Fine Prints: May, 2007

God Told Me, Again May 5

Metamorphosis and Motherhood  May 12 

Sometimes It's Just Too Simple  May 19  

Playing With Power May 26

God Told Me, Again

On February 10, I preached about the third commandment—the one that tells us not to misuse God’s name. I suggested that the prohibition applies to attaching God’s name to anything that isn’t worthy of such a connection.

I questioned the rather common statements "God told me" or "God said to me"—which I suggested in most cases mean nothing more than "I have a strong conviction" or "I feel impressed."

More recently I happened upon an article on the Internet that highlighted the potentially debilitating impact such a claim can have. The following is excerpted from "God Told Me" (http://tracyyoung.wordpress.com/2006/12/26/god-told-me/):

"A very sweet girl sat across the round table from me at church in between services . . . . She is a larger girl, but short in height.

"‘Yes, the Lord spoke to me about my spouse,’ she said as she placed her drink onto the table. ‘God told me that my husband would be over six foot tall, blond hair, blue eyes, gorgeous and comfortably rich.’

"‘Six foot tall?’ I said, trying to resist looking at her short frame.

"‘OVER six foot tall,’ she said with joy in her voice.

"‘Oh, sorry. So, have you met anyone that meets these requirements from God?’

"‘Oh, a couple, but they were married. You just wait, though. Somebody who looks like that will one day just come up to me, and then we will get married ourselves.’

"‘Do you go out with other men in the meantime?’

"‘Heavens no! God told me what I am going to have, and I am just going to wait until he shows up one day. Until then, I will not go out with any ‘normal’ guy. I will only go out with my future husband.’

"Just then, a very shy guy approached the table. He was not over six foot tall. He probably barely made five foot three. His hair was dark and he wore average clothes. He definitely was not gorgeous, but he was handsome enough. I had seen him around the church and knew that he walked with God . . . . You could tell that he was slowly getting his confidence up to ask my friend a question.

"‘Excuse me, Mary, uh . . . I was wondering if you would like to go to this Christian concert on Friday at . . .’

"Cutting him off, Mary spoke. ‘Sorry! Not interested. Henry, I think you are a nice guy and all, but you are not what I am looking for. Thank you’.

"I watched this guy’s face deflate, and he slowly turned and left. This was an awkward moment. I wondered if God really did speak to her. I hoped that He did, because she was going to miss out on a lot of nice people if God did not speak to her."

Hmmm.

Whether it’s a lonely girl, religious broadcaster Pat Robertson, you or I who feels we’re being spoken to by God, simply saying we feel "convicted" or "impressed" is always safe. Implying divine inspiration for our impressions may destroy our credibility with our listeners and give us a distorted picture of God Himself.

Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor

Metamorphosis and Motherhood 

Last Sunday I received an unexpected phone call. Had I not been seated, I might have fallen over. The call came from a young woman–I’ll call her Samantha–who requested my address so she could send me $800. The story is this:

With money our son James received as a result of injuries sustained in an auto accident (many of you remember the event), he bought some rental property. I help him look after it and do most of the liaising with the renters.

Anyway, three or four years ago, a house was available and a young unmarried couple applied. Both had just graduated from high school. Both came with extremely high recommendations from their current and former employers. Plus the young man’s parents were highly supportive and very much involved in trying to get them set up.

The only problem was, the relationship went south about two months after they moved in. Samantha wanted to continue renting, however. So she asked if she could share the house with a couple of other young people. And for a while things went well. But partying soon took precedence over paying the rent. And after a few months, it became necessary to have a straight talk. Rather than have an eviction on their record, they cleared out, leaving about three fourths of their belongings for us to deal with.

While cleaning, we came across a very candid expense list on the bulletin board belonging to one of the sub-renters. It contained not only detailed food, rent and utility costs but also drug costs–and they weren’t from CVS or Walgreen's; they were from Joe and Tom and Sam!

Eventually I tracked Samantha down–hers was the only name on the lease–and she promised to pay when she got caught up. Within a couple of weeks, however, she no longer worked at the same place, had changed her phone number and had vanished. I was unable to make further contact–until Sunday, that is.

She told me her conscience had been hurting her for the past two years and that she was trying to get her life together. She said she was managing the local outlet of a national chain. She told me she had a 14-month-old child and that she was getting married soon. She said that having just received her tax refund, she was determined that the very stale rent charge was going to be the first thing to get paid.

On Wednesday the check arrived.

I don’t know what motivated Samantha to make right an old debt. But I have a hunch. I don’t think it was the fiery sermon of a hell-fire preacher or the smooth message of a purveyor of prosperity theology. My guess is that it was her becoming a mother.

Being a parent–especially being a mother–makes the world look altogether different. The Bible says it was after Methuselah’s birth that Enoch walked with God. Maybe I’m dreaming, but I’ll bet Samantha looked into the face of her baby and said to herself, If this world is going to be a wholesome place for this little darling to grow up in, I’d better make sure that I’m doing all I can to make it that way.

Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor

Sometimes It's Just Too Simple 

As a kid I enjoyed the biblical story of Naaman the Syrian leper. And as an adult I’ve come to believe that the story contains some rather important insights about human behavior.

You remember how it goes: Naaman is desperate to be rid of his leprosy. So desperate, in fact, that he’s even willing to listen when an Israelite slave girl assures him that a prophet in her home country can definitely work a cure. Never mind that she’s a slave because her country has pretty much been overrun by the Syrians. That fact alone might lead a less desperate person to question the power of Israel’s God and the prophets who work in His name.

But Naaman is desperate.

So he heads off to Samaria to see Elisha. And to show how grateful he’ll be if Elisha can pull it off, he brings along as gifts about 750 pounds of silver, 150 pounds of gold and ten outfits of clothing.

Elisha’s nonchalance really gets to him, however. He expected the prophet to engage in some impressive hocus-pocus. Instead, Elisha merely sends out a servant to tell him to go wash seven times in the river Jordan. Naaman is so ticked that he starts for home in a huff.

Fortunately, he has some servants with a little broader perspective. "Hey," they say, "if he’d asked you to do something really tough, you’d have knocked yourself out to do it. Instead, all he asks for is seven baths. What’ve you got to lose?"

They’re right. He knows that deep down inside. But it all seems just too simple. How could seven plunges into a dirty river cure anybody of anything? But he’s traveled a long way. And he suddenly remembers how much he wants to be healed.

Even though it seems just too simple, he gives it a go. "And," the Bible says, "his flesh was restored and became clean like that of a young boy" (2 Kings 5:14, NIV).

So what’s the message for us today?

Just this: Don’t automatically assume that the best answer is the most complicated one. Take health, for example. A high percentage of people would be in fine shape if they could find balance in just three things: rest, exercise and diet. RED, for those who find acrostics helpful. Just learn to think RED.

Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not suggesting that every health problem would automatically disappear if we found more frequent respite from our frantic pace of life and slept more; exercised adequately; and limited the quantity and improved the quality of our food intake. But it’s amazing how many problems would get solved by nothing more than RED.

But that’s too simple, we think. So we seek pills, potions, experts and expensive equipment—when RED is more often than not the answer.

In my doctor’s office hangs a cartoon: "I understand that it’s hard to fit an hour of exercise into your schedule each day," the doctor is telling the patient. "But is it going to be any less disruptive to fit in 24 hours a day of being dead?’

As Naaman discovered, some things seem just too simple. But if they work, who cares?

Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor

Playing With Power 

Back in my early education I had math teachers who wanted to see the process as well as the conclusion. They’d give points for being headed in the right direction even if you never made it to the right destination.

In the intervening years, I’ve come to believe that those teachers may have been on to something. Revealing the thoughts behind our actions might not be a bad idea. If we knew why people behaved as they do, we might be willing to cut them a little slack. But if we judge solely on their actions, well . . .

Anyway, that’s all just background for what I really want to say—which has little to do with math. It’s about money. Asking for money. And whether I like it or not, asking for money is high on a preacher’s job list. So here’s my dilemma.

Typically, when preachers ask for money for some special cause, we make our appeal in spiritual terms. We talk about the blessing of partnering with God. We may quote Proverbs 11:25—that those who water others will be watered themselves also.

We may talk about the moral obligations that come with material blessings. In general, we’ll do our best to make our listeners feel that they must contribute to the cause we’re promoting or be . . . well, let’s just say, less than committed.

In short, preachers have at their disposal a powerful motivational tool. And it’s a power that can be—and frequently is—abused. If you don’t believe me, just spend a few moments watching nearly any major televangelist.

I have little problem urging everyone—generically, as a spiritual discipline—to give money to worthy causes, to the degree they’re able and to the degree they’re convicted. I don’t have a problem encouraging them to put God to the test, as He Himself invites us to do.

My problem is in tying the spiritual rhetoric to the specific cause I’m advocating, however worthy I deem it to be. I have major reservations about speaking in such a way that my words might imply that, if you were truly committed, you’d give to my pet project.

So why am I telling you this? Simply to give insight into the thought processes behind my modus operandi. For example, when I sent out my recent mass mailing (concerning our new Youth Chapel) to all "Members, Attenders and Friends of Markham Woods Church," I simply outlined the need, shared the dream and invited a contribution—large or small—from any who had the wherewithal and the desire to give.

But I didn’t make a strong spiritual pitch. It’s not that I don’t believe in the spiritual benefit that comes from partnering with heaven. It’s that I feel so strongly that it’s between individuals and God just how their contributions should be allocated.

I have no trouble inviting support for specific projects. And I have no trouble talking about the spiritual obligations and opportunities that come with material blessings. But I have considerable problem talking about both in the same breath.

Call me crazy, but that’s how my mind—and my conscience—works.

Jim Coffin, Senior Pastor