Author: Mike

But by faith we eagerly await through the Spirit the righteousness for which we hope. (Galatians 5:5 – New International Version)

For we, in Spirit by faith, the hope of righteousness eagerly expect. (Galatians 5:5 – Original Greek word order)

Hmmm… isn’t this interesting?  Just after coming down on those who try to get God to like them by “following the rules,” the Apostle Paul writes the words above.  He says that trying to make yourself okay with God by keeping God’s laws is the same as cutting yourself off from Christ.  (And he is writing to believing Christians!)

Galatians 5:5 is a key verse for our “attempts” to be more like Jesus.  We can expect God to do it.  We cannot do it—on the contrary, the Spirit does it in us, according to our faith.  We wait on God for the righteousness to come.  When we try to do it ourselves, we actually push ourselves farther away from Jesus.

Expecting God, awaiting God—one gets the picture of a child staring out the window, looking for UPS to deliver a present from Grandma.  She knows it is coming without a doubt, but nothing she does can make it appear.  Still, she looks for it, she hopes for it, and when it arrives she is ready by the front door.  

The “eagerly expecting” righteousness is our part.  The rest is God’s part.  I’m expecting this truth will trouble a few who read this.  It will seem, perhaps, I am saying we have no responsibility to live righteously.  Of course we do—we have free will and must apply that righteousness—in the same way that it is the child’s responsibility to open the package when it comes to the house and put the gift to use.

There is so much righteousness that I am waiting for—a heart that loves my spouse like Jesus loves, wisdom to lead in the home and ministry, strength to face the difficulties of every day life, freedom from my insecurities, patience with my family and extended family, a generosity of spirit and of stuff, a soul that longs to be close to God each moment of the day and night, etc., etc., etc.

This is supernatural. It is the thing that humbles us because we realize our need for Christ.  When Jesus said, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness for they will be filled,” (Matthew 5:6) He was talking about miracles.  It’s a miracle when it happens for us.  The Apostle Paul knew that.  We should, too.

painting by: http://www.katinalowe.com / @katina_arts 

We’ve made it to our final week of Lent!  I tackle our last Deadly Virtue — Generosity — as the antidote to greed. This theme is especially fitting on this Wednesday of Passion Week. Today is known as Spy Wednesday to mark the day that Judas (the “spy”) agreed to betray our Lord.  And why? Because, being consumed by greed, he asked the chief priests, “What are you willing to give me if I deliver him over to you?” So they counted out for him thirty pieces of silver. Judas lacked the virtue of generosity. 

 

“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”—Jesus, Matthew 6:19-21

“I’m convinced that the greatest deterrent to giving is this: the illusion that earth is our home.” —Randy Alcorn, The Treasure Principle

“I do not believe one can settle how much we ought to give. I am afraid the only safe rule is to give more than we can spare. . . . If our charities do not at all pinch or hamper us, I should say they are too small. There ought to be things we should like to do and cannot do because our charities expenditure excludes them.” – C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

The Deadly Virtue of Generosity

Oseola McCarty worked all her life washing and ironing other people’s clothes. She didn’t earn much, but she always saved her money. Her one regret was that she had little education, for she had quit school to help her family. In 1995, at age 87, she did an amazing thing: She gave $150,000 (a value of $257,500 today) to the University of Southern Mississippi, in her home town, so that other young people could afford to stay in school. An award-winning children’s book, The Riches of Osceola McCarty, illustrated by Daniel Minter, tells the story of McCarty, a woman who loved the Lord and loved to give.

In a church where I was on staff, there was a group of guys who called themselves the Desperados. This was an amazing group of young men. If they heard about a family that was in financial need, they’d buy groceries—and not just the regular stuff. They bought steaks, wine, candles, flowers and, of course, all the other stuff a family needs. They would set it on the porch late at night, ring the doorbell and run away into the darkness, watching for the family’s reaction from a safe hiding place. 

They got the idea from some Desperados at another church. There, those Desperados found out about a woman who had no money and no gas in her car after she had just barely made it to the church service. They managed to get into the pew behind hers, reach under her seat, grab her purse, find the keys, slip her purse back, drive the car to get gas (while one of them stayed behind to hold the parking place), put the car back, and then return the keys along with slipping a $20 bill into her purse—all before the church service was finished. Can you imagine what she thought as she started her car and watched the gas gauge needle slowly sweeping toward the full mark?

The dictionary defines generosity as “readiness or liberality in giving,” and “openhandedness, marked by ample proportions.” Contrarily, the vice of greed is defined as, “excessive or rapacious desire, especially for wealth,” and “a selfish and excessive desire for more of something (such as money) than is needed.” Here’s the deal: you can’t be greedy in the same instance that you’re being generous, for the virtue kills the vice (see Matthew 6:24). That’s why we call it The Deadly Virtue of Generosity. How does a person becomes generous as opposed to greedy? The answer might surprise you.

“But who am I, and who are my people, that we should be able to give as generously as this? Everything comes from you, and we have given you only what comes from your hand.” —King David, speaking to God in 1Chronicles 29:14

We must remember that we are receivers before we can even think about being givers because God made us to be receivers first. He is the Giver and we are the receivers—over and over again. Everything we have comes from Him, and He has been very generous. Just look around: Where have you seen God give to you in over-the-top ways (or even in sneaky ways?) The Bible says that God loves a “cheerful giver.” That is because cheerful giving is what God does. It’s a blast to give away the stuff God has given to us, but we have to start with a theology of receiving that stuff first. Everything we think we own, we owe to God. We are trustees of all that we have received.

It is not, “How much do I give to God from what is mine? It is, “How much of God’s do I keep for myself?” Some Christians get stuck on the concept of the tithe; that is, the Old Testament concept of giving 10% of one’s crops, herds, and income. It is not about giving 10% of our money to God. God owns everything anyway. He doesn’t really need our measly 10%. Allow me to illustrate: I remember taking my young son to McDonald’s. He ordered a Happy Meal. We sat down, and after a while I asked him for one of his french fries. He didn’t want to give me one. I thought to myself, “I can go over to the counter and buy this kid enough french fries to bury him, but he won’t even share one of them!” We all know that it wasn’t about me needing a french fry—it was about him needing to learn how to share. Maybe that’s how God looks at us. 

More than a billion people out of the Earth’s six-and-a half billion live in desperate poverty caused by famines, earthquakes, war, corrupt governments, lack of education, disease, unfair trade laws, and false philosophies. At least 200 million of these one billion desperately poor people are followers of Jesus Christ (Galatians 6:10). In North America, there is an increasing disparity between rich and poor, largely along racial lines. Meanwhile, middle and upper-class Americans, including Christians, now eat out an average 30% of their meals (except for now during the coronavirus pandemic). At the same time, the amount of money spent on sports, recreation, lawn care, video and computer games, home entertainment centers, pets, and dieting has skyrocketed. But Christians are giving less to charities than ever before, from an average of 4% of their total incomes in 1960 to an average of 2% recently.  

People who watch Christian trends have made two staggering calculations. If every American Christian did give 10% of their incomes, the additional amount of money that would be raised above and beyond the current level would be enough to eradicate world poverty in our lifetime. Second, the average age of major donors for both church and parachurch organizations is now well over 65 years of age. Current Christian work is being funded largely by retired people, who themselves lived a more frugal lifestyle a generation ago. Thus, unless patterns of Christian generosity change dramatically, a majority of currently existing ministries will close their doors for lack of finances within one generation.  

One of the weirdest things is that while all this is happening, some Christian leaders are promoting a health/wealth gospel that pretends it is God’s desire for the already affluent American Christian (by Third-World standards) to become even richer. Even if we don’t feel rich, we don’t have to be rich to be greedy—many have little but their life is consumed by getting more. It is our conviction that the first step away from this madness and into the virtue of generosity is to begin with a theology of receiving. We are the wealthiest nation in the history of the world. We have received much—and to whom much is given, much is required. We are to be receivers first, givers second, and to be generous as God is generous.

Responding to the Deadly Virtue of Generosity

• Who (apart from Jesus) is the most generous person you’ve ever heard of? Who, on earth, has been the most generous to you? Why do you think those people gave so much?

• An eminent 20th-century innovator in the world of manufacturing and construction, R. G. LeTourneau tithed 90% of his personal and business income to the Lord’s work, establishing a foundation, a liberal arts and technical college, as well as making significant contributions to expanding the work of his church and its denomination. Do you think it is possible to be too generous? What percentage of your own income do you think would be too much for you to give? What percentage would be too little?

• If you decided to be a Desperado like the guys in the stories above, what is one way that you might pull something like that off? Or, if you were to begin being like Oseola McCarty, where might you direct your additional generosity—to what organization or persons?

• While being a helpful resource, money can never satisfy the deepest longings of the human heart. It can’t provide purpose, fulfillment, or true joy; furthermore, “The love of money is a root of all kinds of evil,” according to 1Timothy 6:10. Think of someone who is greedy with money. How does that greed affect the rest of their life?  Contrast that with generous people you know. How are their lives different, in all areas?
  

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  For Fun

  Two friends met in the street. One looked sad and on the verge of tears. The other man said, “Hey my friend, how come you look like the whole world has caved in?” 

  The sad fellow said, “Let me tell you. Three weeks ago, an uncle died and left me fifty thousand dollars.”

  “Sorry about your uncle, but fifty grand’s not bad at all…”

  “Hold on, I’m just getting started. Two weeks ago, a cousin I never knew kicked-the-bucket and left me ninety-five thousand tax-free dollars to boot.”

  “Again, sorry about your cousin, but I’d like to inherit that kind of money.”

  Then the dismal fellow added, ”Last week, my grandfather passed away and I inherited almost a million.”

  “That’s too many deaths in a short time. I can understand why you’re so sad.”

  “And what’s worse—this week—nothing!”

  ———————————————————

  A Christian farmer is overjoyed to see that his cow is pregnant. Not being in need, he plans to raise the calf and sell it for profit. Time passes and the cow ultimately gives birth to two calves. The farmer is even happier, rejoicing and thanking the Lord.

  He tells his wife, “God has been so gracious to us, when I sell these two calves at market, half the proceeds will be given unto Him.” The farmer’s wife commends his for his generosity.

  One day, several weeks later, the farmer returns home from his work day on the farm, saddened and reserved. His wife asks him what happened.

  “The Lord’s calf died,” he replies.

With “shelter in place” orders, travel bans and various restrictions, do you have that sense that our whole country is being asked to do something like practice Lent together?  The goals may differ but, there is something familiar about it.  Perhaps, The Church—in her wisdom—has championed Lent throughout the centuries knowing that there will always come a time when everyone is asked to “go without.”  Because of Lent, The Church would then be prepared to lead the way in times such as this, offering practical help and Holy Hope.  Below, Dave Meserve writes about a virtue that helps us navigate today’s challenges. 

The DEADLY VIRTUE of DILIGENCE     

Like most on our list of Deadly Virtues, the words Mike and I have chosen don’t necessarily carry the meaning today of their original intent.  Our latest virtue, DILIGENCE, is no exception.

When I hear “diligence” my picture is of an auditor obsessed with attention to detail in order to honor “due diligence,” the most common use of this word.  It’s as if diligence is only about satisfying some legal requirement. Hardly makes the heart beat faster. 

The original idea of diligence is far more captivating.  Our English word arrives to us from the Old French meaning “attention, care” and carries the sense of “taking delight” in something. It is “love and care through being attentive.”  Now that quickens the heart.  

Our Greek New Testaments offers something which is interesting for its stark contrast to the Deadly Sin of Sloth.  Diligence “speeds up” something within us, moving us to action and effort. Putting this all together, diligence is “love and care through being attentive” where our care is in earnest.  This is a foundational virtue.

We learn from the Epistles what we are to earnestly care about: the poor (Gal. 2:10), keeping spiritual unity (Eph. 4:3), confirming our calling (2 Peter 1:10) and especially being diligent toward one another (2 Cor. 7:12). It is all about a having a heart that deeply loves and cares. 

Other things to note from our Scriptures:  

• When Paul attaches virtues to the spiritual gifts, he specifically attached the virtue of diligence to the gift of leadership (Rom. 12:8).  Spiritual leadership demands love and earnest care.
• Paul says that earnest care was produced by the church’s “godly sorrow” (2 Cor. 7:11). A heart that can repent is a mark of a heart that can love and earnestly care. 
• Peter writes a beautiful progression that begins with faith and ends with love. He says that we must speed all of these virtues along by “applying all diligence” (2 Peter 1:5). Diligence is foundational to fully exhibit all the other virtues.  

Diligence is deadly to the sin of sloth.  We might call it laziness today, but it is deeper than how we tend to use the word.  The heart of what it means to be lazy or slothful is not caring.  In the early centuries, it was called acedia which literally meant to be “without care”.  It was seen as a core sin as it strips away the very soundness of our soul. It has been called “the sin of the empty soul … a weariness of the soul.”

In this sense, the slothful person refuses to care or is incapable of doing so.  To live with this, as one writer put it, is like being “on spiritual morphine: you know the pain is there, yet can’t rouse yourself to give a damn.” Not only does it make us unable to care, it takes away our ability to feel bad about it.

My favorite reference for this condition comes from ancient monks who called this “the noonday devil” as it came upon them most intensely in the heat of the day. They would see this as an attack by the “demon” of sloth.  We may refrain from that language but can appreciate their diligence in the face of this foe.    

They believe that these “demons” could not act directly on the intellect and so, instead, they aroused bad thoughts by working on the memory and the imagination. For example, “nostalgia” — remembering the past far more fondly than reality suggests — was one way those “demons” would create sloth in the soul. If the best days are behind you, why care in the present? 

Similarly, to subvert the imagination by obsessing over a “grass is greener” future also removed your soul from being attentive to others. You cannot love and care for others in the present when you are infatuated with your future. 

When young monks needed help with sloth they would seek out an elder.  Their elders resisted the modern advice of recommending a change of scenery or to go “treat yourself”.  Instead they would insist on the virtue of diligence. 
 

Let’s end with some of that ancient wisdom to help us strengthening diligence as a means to fight sloth.  Most of this comes from Evagrius, a 4th century monk. I’ll add my paraphrases in bold. 

• When sloth came upon him in the desert, Abba Anthony prayed to be delivered and was shown that any physical task, done in the right spirit, could free him. Do something physical to help get you out of your bad thoughts.
• When a young monk faced sloth in the repetitiveness of his work and scenery, the counsel would be to not look without but within; “Go, sit in your cell and your cell with teach you everything.” Your listlessness should not be avoided simply by continually changing scenery. Face yourself in the place you are. 
• “What heals sloth is staunch persistence… Set a measure for yourself in everything that you do, and don’t turn from it until you’ve reached that goal.” Make small, manageable goals throughout your day and stay with them until done.
• “As far as we are able, exalt the mercies of Christ” to battle the despair of sloth. The reading of Scripture was essential to reorient them to reality along with “praying intelligently”. Read your Bibles out loud and sit with the words for a few minutes everyday. Talk to God about it.  

I honestly love how practical those ancient monks were. As for our hopes of loving and caring through being attentive, there is nothing better to shake us out of care-lessness than fostering the deadly virtue of diligence. 

Prayer

O God, make speed to save us. O Lord, make haste to help us.

If there is a time we need to earnestly care it is now. May our eyes be open and our ears attentive to the world just around us. And, as we face the challenges of our times may we also learn to face ourselves. 

Keep us from nostalgia that refuses to look forward with hope and from a corrupted imagination that doubts You are at work in our present. 

Help us, O Lord, to see Your love through attentiveness toward us — every single day — that we may be diligent ourselves to the things You so deeply care about. Amen. 

Responding to the Deadly Virtue of Diligence

1. Reflect on the definition of diligence as “loving through attentiveness”.  Who has modeled that for you?  In particular, how are they attentive and to what are they attentive? 
2. The heart of diligence is to care deeply about something/someone.  What do you care deeply about right now?  What moves your heart to action? Has anything begun to shape your heart during this time of a global pandemic? 
3. Have you had a season that might fit the description of sloth/acedia when nothing much seemed to matter in life?  How do you describe it?  Do your remember what helped you move on? Are you in that kind of season right now? 
4. Depression v. Acedia. Writer Kathleen Norris* puts it this way: Depression generally has an identifiable and external cause whereas acedia arises out of nowhere, emerging from inner depths without warning nor reason. Depression is more amendable to treatment. It will disrupt life so that, eventually,  you cannot fail to notice and take action. Acedia is more subtle when it wells up and “only the venerable practice of spiritual discernment is of much use.” Reflect on these distinctions. Where does it take you? 
5. Of the four practical responses listed above, which are the most natural for you?  Which are the least? Is there one you that is calling to you?

LOVE: what more can be said? The old adage, “familiarity breeds contempt” may be a temptation when you first glance at this week’s theme of LOVE.  “The Church talks about love all the time!” You may be thinking to yourself. Yet, to speak of it as a “DEADLY VIRTUE” changes the conversation. I (Mike) bring this week’s devotion. Read on and stay strong during these strange days and our final weeks of Lent.

Love doesn’t make the world go round. Love is what makes the ride worthwhile. 

—Franklin P. Jones

“He that but looketh on a plate of ham and eggs to lust after it hath already committed breakfast with it in his heart.”

—C.S. Lewis, Letters to an American Lady (March 10, 1954) 

It may seem odd to call “love” a virtue. I think it seems odd because our culture continually tells us that love is a feeling. Those of us who have been well-loved—or who have attempted to love well—know that it’s not just a feeling. Love is intention and action and difficult to accomplish (much of the time). If you don’t believe this, then re-read 1Corinthian’s 13:4-8 where we are told that love is “patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.” When Jesus tells us to “love your enemies” in Luke 6:35, love, obviously, becomes a virtue.

Love, the virtue, is the mortal enemy of lust, the vice. Lust is a passionate, overmastering yearning. It’s an intense craving, usually for something sinful. Most of the time we use it to refer to an illicit sexual desire. As C. S. Lewis said in Mere Christianity, “Love is the great conqueror of lust.” Here is the irony. We lust because we think that the object of our immoral fascination will make us ecstatically happy—not understanding that God does want us to be ecstatically happy in ways that are true and lasting. Our lusts, as a matter of fact, move that happiness further and further out of our reach. God wants us to love so that we can actually find the joy that we seek. 

Take the problem of pornography, for instance. After a few decades as a pastor of young men, I can tell you that most of them are seeking sexual intimacy and the pleasure associated with it (of course). Here’s the thing: God created them to long for that and He’s the one who came up with the whole idea of sex in the first place. The problem is that by lusting after the images on their computers and elsewhere, these young men are actually pushing the intimacy they pursue farther away—for they were created to love someone who loves them back within a secure covenant of marriage. I’ll repeat: God wants us to love so that we can find the joy that we seek—joy that is only found in Him who is Love. Hidden within every one of our lusts is a desire for something good. As G. K. Chesterton said, “Every time a man knocks on the door of a brothel he is looking for God.”

If lust is damaging to what we were created to enjoy, then love (by its very nature) is healing; although, it may not be easy. In his fantasy book, The Great Divorce, Lewis employs an allegory of lasting impact. It is worth a long look.

There is a man upon whose shoulder sits “a little red lizard, and it was twitching its tail like a whip and whispering things in his ear.” This lizard would implant lustful thoughts in the man’s mind and give him dreams that had “sometimes gone too far in the past.” In the book, a large flaming angel extends its hand and asks the man’s permission to kill the chattering creature. After much mental and spiritual struggle, the man finally agrees. The man “gave a scream of agony such as I never heard on Earth. The Burning One closed his crimson grip on the reptile: twisted it, while it bit and writhed, and then flung it, broken-backed, on the turf.”

As this happens, the man himself begins to be remade—more solid, brighter, stronger, larger—and something seemed to be happening to the lizard. “The creature was still struggling and even growing bigger as it struggled. And as it grew it changed. Its hinder parts grew rounder. The tail, still flickering, became a tail of hair that flickered between huge and glossy buttocks. Suddenly I started back, rubbing my eyes. What stood before me was the greatest stallion I have ever seen, silvery white but with mane and tail of gold. It was smooth and shining, rippled with swells of flesh and muscle, whinnying and stamping with its hoofs. At each stamp the land shook and the trees dindled.”

“The new-made man turned and clapped the new horse’s neck. It nosed his bright body. Horse and master breathed each into the other’s nostrils. The man turned from it, flung himself at the feet of the Burning One, and embraced them. When he rose I thought his face shone with tears, but it may have been only the liquid love and brightness (one cannot distinguish them in that country) which flowed from him. I had not long to think about it. In joyous haste the young man leaped upon the horse’s back. Turning in his seat he waved a farewell, then nudged the stallion with his heels. They were off before I well knew what was happening. There was riding if you like! I came out as quickly as I could from among the bushes to follow them with my eyes; but already they were only like a shooting star far off on the green plain, and soon among the foothills of the mountains. Then, still like a star, I saw them winding up, scaling what seemed impossible steeps, and quicker every moment, till near the dim brow of the landscape, so high that I must strain my neck to see them, they vanished, bright themselves, into the rose-brightness of that everlasting morning.”

Lust is an impoverished, pitiful substitute for the love God gives us when we submit to His ways. The Virtue of Love will carry us through this life and into the eternal joys of Heaven.

PRAY

Lord, I confess my sin of lust to you and I denounce it for the vice that it is. 

Help me to love instead—to honor the ones I have lusted after instead of using them. 

May I not seek my own pleasure but strive for the joy that you want to give me by loving as you love. For you are love, my God, and the model of what it means to love another person. 

May my love be patient, kind, not envious, not boastful, not proud. 

May it honor others and not be selfish, not be easily angered and may it keep no record of wrongs. 

May my love never delight in evil but rejoice with the truth, always protect, always trust, always hope, always persevere and never fail. So be it by your great power and your love for me, Jesus. Amen.

Responding to the Deadly Virtue of Love:

• Who, among your family and friends, has loved you the best? Pinpoint a few specific examples of how that love was shown to you. Have you ever loved others in the same way? Why or why not?

• It is said that lust seeks a legitimate desire by illegitimate means. Examine just one of your lusts. What do you think might be the “true good” you are searching for in the wrong way? How would God want you to pursue it?

• In our overly-sexualized Western culture, where do you think the culture has, indeed, embraced love over lust? Why? 

• Name one person in your life that you want to love better.  What is one way to exhibit the virtue of love these last few weeks of Lent?

“Before his death, aged 63 . . . the NBA’s Wilt The Stilt Chamberlain, confessed to some misgivings about his estimated 20,000 lovers. “It would have been better for me to have one woman 1,000 times,” said Chamberlain. “I wasn’t bragging that I was a great lover. Actually, you can say that I had so many women because I was such a bad lover. They never came back a second time.” —Tony Parsons in GQ Magazine, 22 February 2013

• FOR FUN:
•  I asked my girlfriend to meet me at the gym but she never showed up.  I guess the two of us aren’t going to work out. 
• How do you get a farmer’s daughter to fall in love with you?  A tractor. 
• I dated a Communist once.  I had no idea. She seemed sweet. But it didn’t end well.  Honestly, I should have noticed all the red flags. 
• Love is telling someone to go to hell and worrying about them getting there safely.

We are being asked, for the sake of our communities, to suspend normal rituals and routines, and keep to ourselves until further notice. You have been receiving advice and warnings by the virtual truckload.  Dave and I have no intention to pile on.  All we want to do is help you keep your Lent fresh and your souls clean.  This week’s virtue may be the most initially unappealing; yet, we think it is absolutely crucial for these strange days. Dave writes this week’s entry.

“I denied myself nothing my eyes desired; I refused my heart no pleasure.”
~ Ecclesiastes 2:10 

“I guess a modern version of heroism is regaining control of social impulses, saying ‘no’ to a thousand shallow contacts for the sake of a few daring plunges.”
~ David Brooks

Temperance: let’s give it another try. 

It is impossible to write anything this morning without acknowledging the strange times in which we live.  With the coronavirus, we are witness to something that literally affects every American (and world citizen) in real time.  It is an unavoidable backdrop to Lent 2020.  And we see no need to avoid it. 

Mike and I understand these Seven Deadly Virtues as speaking into our present situation. Lent is not a distraction to real life but the path to walk gracefully through it.  Therefore, it is precisely during times of disruption where virtue is most needed and where vice is most tempting.  

That brings us to our Deadly Virtue of the week:  TEMPERANCE.  The word itself has lost its place in our language except to conjure up images of an angry, axe-wielding woman of old (see the fascinating Carry Nation) or, perhaps, the Puritans in general.  

The dictionary helpfully describes temperance as “habitual moderation in the indulgence of a natural appetite.”  The King James Bible keeps temperance in the text when our modern translations use self-control.   The concept is easy to grasp; to be temperate is to exercise voluntary self-control. 

Despite America’s Puritan heritage, we must admit that temperance has become a very un-American virtue.  We are not exactly known for voluntary self-restraint.  The writer of Ecclesiastes (quoted above) may be our culture’s patron saint; we, too, are tempted to deny ourselves nothing which our eyes desire. 

Temperance is the antidote to the sin of gluttony.  Where temperance moderates indulgences, gluttony impulsively over-indulges.  Fundamentally, gluttony is a failure of self-control, the inability to be temperate with something that is otherwise normal and necessary.    

There was a famous Stanford University study, The Marshmallow Experiment (1970), regarding self-control and children.  Kids could choose one marshmallow in the moment or, if they waited an indefinite amount of time, they could have two.  The conclusion: those who delayed immediate gratification tended to have better long-term life outcomes. 

The idea is sound.  To exercise self-control by choosing not to indulge in something you want — even something good—is part of our personal maturity and our spiritual formation.  And, like all Deadly Virtues, it leads us to better life outcomes.  How is your life of self-control these days?

Both Peter and Paul include temperance/self-control in their lists of virtues.  Peter tells us to add self-control to our knowledge (2 Peter1:6) as he describes the progression of spiritual growth; knowledge requires temperance (see the reflection section below).

Paul places it at the end of his famous Fruits of the Spirit list (Galatians 5:23). It caught me how important temperance must be when its place is alongside iconic virtues such as love and joy.  By calling it a fruit of God’s Spirit, we admit that temperance is more an outcome of following Jesus than something we simply will into our lives.  Like the metaphor suggests, our focus is to cling to the Vine as if our lives depends on it and in season, fruit arrives (see John 15). 

Fasting—historically the centerpiece of Lenten practices—is designed to build the virtue of temperance.  There is much Christ can do with a person who seeks to practice self-control in even one area of their life.  For starters, things get revealed:  chronic dependencies, favorite self-medications, places of constant temptation, “good” things that lead you away from community or responsibility and more.  

All of these personal revelations open space for God if we let temperance do its inner work.  And as we become more proficient at self-control, other areas of our life may open up for God’s grace to move.  Yes, temperance is a foundational virtue that will lead us to a better long-term life outcome. 

Regarding our current reality with the COVID-19 sickness, this is a time for our whole culture, not just the Church, to rediscover the grace and power of temperance.  Where is Christ calling us to restrain ourselves for the sake of our neighbors? 

We need to stop fighting against this archaic-sounding virtue that has the audacity to deny us something within our reach and within our rights.  We need to embrace the Spirit of Temperance and reclaim a piece of our spiritual heritage—and this embracing will help navigate this time of crisis.

Lord, hear our Prayer:  

May this time of “social distancing” create a deeper hunger for community in our neighbors and ourselves.

May our hearts be more focused and our actions more compassionate during this crisis.

May we learn to deny what will harm us while we learn to embrace what will heal us. 

May our attempts at temperance — no matter how small or how frustrating — grant us a greater taste of your grace and may they be marked by Joy.  

May our growth in temperance lead us to you. 

May our failures in temperance lead us to you.

May our true fast be to loosen the chains of selfishness that bind us. 

Lord, grant us the power to do so—in the Name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, 

Amen.

REFLECTION

• During our current coronavirus outbreak, where have you noticed a struggle with self-control?  Is there a good, natural appetite you’re having to moderate or deny? Can you re-focus that to become a spiritual practice by inviting Christ into it? 

• If you have taken a Lenten fast, how is it going?  (Did you give up March Madness?) Consider taking one week for a concentrated fast.  Find one good thing in which you indulge everyday (food, drink, screens, games…) and simply deny it.  See what it sparks within you.  Talk to God about it.

• If you have never read through “The Twelve Steps” of AA*, you would be wise to become familiar with them.  Which steps catch your attention? Is there one takeaway for this time of crisis? (*AA was founded just two years after Prohibition—two different approaches to the same problem of alcohol addiction).

• Peter writes that self control helps us with knowledge (2 Peter 1:5-8).  How might that work? Think about what is involved in knowing something or someone else; what role might self-control/self-restraint play in deepening that knowledge? 

• Temperance (translated self-control) is one of three subjects Paul brings up to a Roman Governor when he was under house arrest (Acts 24:25).  Why do you think he brought up self control? Is this why Felix left the conversation terrified?

For Fun:

A preacher was completing a sermon on temperance. With great expression he said, “If I had all the beer in the world, I’d take it and throw it into the river!” 

The congregation nodded their approval. With even greater emphasis the preacher added, “And if I had all the wine in the world, I’d take it and throw it into the river, too!” 

The people clapped and said, “AMEN.” 

“And if I had all the whiskey in the world,” said the preacher, “I’d take it and throw it into the river!” 

As the reverend sat down, the song leader then stood very cautiously and announced with a smile, “For our closing song, let us sing Hymn 365: Shall We Gather at the River.”

Welcome back to another week of Lent. We hope it has been meaningful time for you so far. 

While we settle into a month named after the Roman God of War, Dave and I invite you to consider that which is deadly to war: The VIRTUE OF PEACE. I write this week’s devotion, and I’ve provided other Biblical passages to consider, several ways to respond, and a hippie cartoon. Something for everyone!

“God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing.” —C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

“First keep peace with yourself, then you can also bring peace to others.” —Thomas a Kempis

“While you are proclaiming peace with your lips, be careful to have it even more fully in your heart.”—Francis of Assisi

THE VIRTUE OF PEACE

The Biblical idea of peace is much more than just an absence of conflict. It is the presence of something better—wholeness. Shalom (the Hebrew word for Peace) denotes something complex that is in a state of completeness. It’s when all the parts of your life are meshing well. it’s the restoration of relationships. Shalom in your marriage is not when you stop fighting—it is when you are working together. The Bible looks forward to the Prince of Shalom bringing peace forever (Isaiah 9:5–6). He will put the whole world to rights and will heal everything that has been damaged. Even now, Jesus restores the relationship between God and humans, between us people, and within ourselves. (Ephesians 2:14–15)

For me, the opposite of the virtue of peace is the vice of wrath. Some people call it anger. “But Jesus did get angry,“ I can hear people saying. Let’s talk about that. Jesus was almost always peaceful and did not get angry very often. Of the few times recorded in Scripture, one was because the religious establishment was preventing the Gentiles from worshiping the true God in the Jewish Temple. The Jewish leaders had erected a marketplace in the court of the Gentiles—which was the only place in the Temple area for non-Jews to pray. (Mark 11:15-18) Moral of the Story: Get in the way of somebody’s search for God and you might be the object of Jesus‘ righteous wrath. 

Jesus also got angry at the religious leaders when they were acting in a hypocritical fashion—placing religious burdens upon the people that they themselves would not lift. (Matthew 23:3-4) So: Put religious obstacles in the way of people getting close to God and you may encounter the anger of Christ. Jesus’ anger is very specific—it’s triggered by His compassion for those being spiritually oppressed.

In my own life, there is nothing that raises my wrath more than being unjustly accused. In other words, blame me of something I’ve actually done and I’ll usually (eventually) agree with you. I might not be happy about it but I won’t get angry. Tell me I’m guilty of something I haven’t done and watch me boil. I will call my wrath justified. But is it?

Did Jesus release his wrath when he was accused of casting out demons by the power of Satan? No, instead, He resorted to reason. He said, “a house divided against itself will fall.” (Luke 11:17-19 ) When accused of breaking the Sabbath laws by healing a man or a woman on that day, he again resorted to reason. He said that if you would rescue—or even just care for—your animal on a Sabbath, then why shouldn’t He heal a person? (Luke 13:10-17, Matthew 12:9-14) Most famously, perhaps, is when Jesus was being falsely accused at his trial before the Sanhedrin in the middle of the night. He didn’t get angry—He remained silent. (Matthew 26:62-63) So much for my own “righteous anger.” It is anything but righteous. 

How does one obtain the deadly virtue of peace in situations that usually kindle anything from a brush fire to a raging inferno of wrath? It seems that one must go to the Prince of Peace for that tranquil presence of soul. The virtue of peace, like all the virtues, appears to be a gift. It is a gift one must seek in order to find—and we have to cooperate when it is given. We must open our hearts to be a channel of the Lord’s peace. 

Consider offering this prayer for the virtue of peace. May the Lord meet our need as we continue on this Lenten journey through the Seven Deadly Virtues:

Lord, please place Your shalom—your peace—in my heart. I know what I do in these stressful situations normally, but I don’t know what You would do nor how You would do it. Give me the grace to follow your lead. Use this trial to make me more like You, Jesus. Make me an instrument of Your peace. May I reflect Your character—being quick to hear, slow to speak and slow to anger. Remind me that You have not left my side and that You never will. I can trust You to fight the battles which I will only make worse. Be my Prince of Peace. Help me to forgive those who have wronged me. I place myself in Your nail-scarred hands. Amen.

Responding to the Deadly Virtue of PEACE:

• From this list of Shalom descriptors, select one that resonates with you today: harmony, confidence, balance, completeness, wholeness, health, peace, welfare, safety, soundness, tranquility, prosperity, fullness, rest.

• List the situations in your life right now that are robbing you of peace. There’s no judgement intended here, just be honest.

• What are the most peaceful times of your day? Of your year? Are they peaceful because of external reasons or internal reasons? Think about one time you had peace in a situation that was anything but peaceful—why was that?

• If you were asked to wage war against someone—short of killing that person—how would you do it? Conversely, if you were asked to “wage peace” with the same person, how would you do that?

• Meditate upon and/or memorize one of the following verses of Scripture (NIV):

Isaiah 9:6 For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government will be upon his shoulders, and he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Matthew 5:9 Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

John 14:27  Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

Philippians 4:6-7 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Colossians 3:15 Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful.

1Peter 3:10-11

Whoever would love life

and see good days

must keep their tongue from evil

and their lips from deceitful speech.

They must turn from evil and do good;

they must seek peace and pursue it.

• In John 11:30-44, Jesus gets angry when we don’t expect Him to. It appears that he is angry with death and the distress it causes people who love the person whom has died. How has Jesus brought us great peace with the reality of death?

Welcome back to the second week of Lent! This week, Dave Meserve writes on the Deadly Virtue of COMPASSION. Dave focuses on the meaning of the word in English and Greek (and of its evil twin, the vice of ENVY) and offers thoughts on how to cultivate it in our lives. Be sure read his final paragraph as he confesses his struggle with the heart of compassion and his path forward. I playfully add something for fun at the end. Blessings to you on your Lenten journey.
—Mike

“You never really understand a person until you climb inside of his skin and walk around in it.” 
– Atticus Finch to Scout, in To Kill a Mockingbird 

“Before you criticize someone, walk a mile in their shoes.  That way, you’ll be a mile from them, and you’ll have their shoes.”  
– Deep Thoughts, by Jack Handy

• Who has suffered alongside you in your past? 
• If compassion is a virtue of proximity, who in your life may be comforted by your coming closer?  What is one step you can make toward them this week? 
• Where do you need compassion right now?  Can you take that to Jesus?  Will you take that to your community?  How will you do that?  
• Paul places two commands regarding compassion next to each other: “rejoice with those who rejoice” and “mourn with those who mourn” (Romans12:15).  Which is more challenging for you? Can you think of a recent example of either? 
• If you are one who posts online:  consider posting something that does not invite comparison to your wonderful life but invites compassion toward those who suffer in some way.
• For further reading: The stories of Cain and Abel (Genesis 4) and Saul and David (1 Samuel 18-19) are great cautionary tales about the danger of choosing envy over compassion.

For Fun … The Talking Frog.

An 85 year-old retired military officer had one hobby—he loved to fish. 

He was sitting in his boat one day when he heard a voice say,  “Pick me up.” He looked around and couldn’t see anyone. 

He thought he was dreaming when he heard the voice say again, ”Pick me up.”

He looked in the water and there, floating on the top, was a frog.

The retired officer said, “Are you talking to me?”

The frog said, “Yes, I’m talking to you. Pick me up, then kiss me. I’ll turn into the most beautiful woman you have ever seen. I’ll make sure that all your friends are envious because I will be your bride! I’ll adore you and kiss you every day.”

The retired military officer looked at the frog for a short time, reached over,  picked it up carefully and placed it in his shirt pocket.

The frog said, “What, are you crazy? Didn’t you hear what I said? I said, ‘Kiss me, and I will be your beautiful bride. I’ll make sure that all your friends are envious. I’ll adore you and kiss you every day.’”

He opened his pocket, looked at the frog and said, “Nah. Honey, at my age, I’d rather have a talking frog.”

Dave and I are excited to offer you some things to ponder each week  Our first week is about the “Deadly Virtue” of HUMILITY, the antidote to the sin of pride.  I write this section and then we both add some ways to respond whether you are reading this by yourself or using this for a small group. May Jesus meet you on your Lenten Journey!   –Mike Sares

“I’d like to be humble, but what if no one notices?”    

—John Ortberg

Humility, according to the dictionary, is “freedom from pride or arrogance : the quality or state of being humble.” As C. S. Lewis wrote (more helpfully), “True humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less.” How pleasant it is when we meet and talk with people who are not as concerned with their own agendas as they are with whatever is before us at the moment. Even more, what about those folks who are more concerned about us than themselves? We tend to love being with them.

Pride is an excessive opinion of one’s own importance—whether in thought, word, or deed. Pride is known as the first of the “deadly sins,” for it leads to every other sin. Not only does it destroy a proper view of ourselves, it damages our relationship with others and with God Himself. What kills pride? Humility. Humility is the way to not becoming the kind of person most of humanity despises. This is how the Bible puts it: “When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom.” (Proverbs 11:2) 

If the choice between humility and pride is so clear, then why do humans consistently choose the vice over the virtue? Perhaps we are so insecure that we work hard to establish our worth in the eyes of those around us (and even in our own eyes). Maybe pride is just a selfish preoccupation with ourselves. Whatever the reason, pride ravages the rapport we have with anyone. It looks like this: the more pride we have, the more we despise it in other people and the more we resent any perceived neglect. Pride is a pretty sure-fire way of not getting along with folks at home, at school, at work, or in the neighborhood.

Recognizing this about us, Jesus offered instructions to those at a dinner who had chosen the prestigious seats at the table. “When someone invites you to a wedding feast, do not take the place of honor,” He said. “… But when you are invited, take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all the other guests. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” (Luke 14:8-11)  Jesus contends that we humans are given two choices: either humble ourselves or be humbled by others and by God. It is a strong warning from the God-man, but there is hope. 

In the same way that pride is a door to every other vice, so humility is the portal to every other virtue. Humility appears to be the foundational virtue of Christ Himself, “Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross!” (Philippians 2:6-8) 

Thinking of ourselves less and thinking of others more is the obvious basis for compassion, generosity, and love—all virtues that have humility as their foundation. Not assuming we are entitled to excessive rest and pleasure makes way for diligence and temperance. Being humble enough to accept whatever circumstances we find ourselves under (looking to the Lord for strength) brings us great peace (Philippians 4:12-13). Thus, we find that all other virtues are built upon humility.

To get us started, consider praying this prayer for humility as we embark on this Lenten journey through the Seven Deadly Virtues:

“O God, your Word says that You resist the proud and give grace to the humble: grant me the virtue of true humility. Keep me from false humility, which is only pride in dress-down clothes. Jesus, you are the perfect pattern for me; let me follow in Your footsteps. Let me learn of You, Jesus, for You are gentle and humble of heart.”

Responding to the Deadly Virtue of HUMILITY:

• If humility is thinking of yourself less and others more, who in your life has modeled this kind of humility toward you? What is one way you hope to be more like that person? Is there one practical way you might move in that direction? 
• If it’s true that the pride we hate in others may reflect something about ourselves, think of a very prideful person you know. Describe what bothers you the most; is any of that pride true of you as well?  Anything about that you want to ask God to help you overcome?    
• For a creative spiritual practice, every day for the next week—when in conversation with another—do NOT say something you want to say. Resist adding something that is not necessary but makes you look good (or thoughtful, or well-read, or generous, or “humble”…)   
• For further reflection on humility, read about Mother Teresa. What is most attractive about her to you?
• Meditate upon and/or memorize one of the following verses of Scripture:

Ephesians 4:2, Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love

Philippians 2:3-4, Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others.

James 4:6, But He gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says: “God opposes the proud but shows favor to the humble.”

Just for fun:

One Tuesday afternoon in the church sanctuary, a senior pastor and his associate pastor were collecting the leftover bulletins from the previous Sunday. Light was streaming into the church through beautiful stained-glass windows and playing upon the large, rough, wooden cross hanging on the wall.

Looking up and suddenly overcome by the majesty of God, the senior pastor abruptly sat down in a pew proclaiming, “Lord, I am nothing!” 

Not to be bested, the associate pastor also knelt down and exclaimed, “Lord, I am nothing!” 

The church’s handyman, working in the back of the sanctuary, joined the holy fervor. He fell onto the floor crying, “Lord, I am nothing!” Whereupon the senior pastor nudged his associate and whispered, “Look who thinks he’s nothing!”