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- Written by: Don Goulding
But since you excel in everything—in faith, in speech, in knowledge, in complete earnestness and in the love we have kindled in you—see that you also excel in this grace of giving. (2 Corinthians 8:7) (NIV)
“You not come today. We are watched. Sorry, sorry.”
The phone clicked, went silent, and our speaking engagement with an underground church was canceled. Unsanctioned meetings were illegal in China. The government had already imprisoned one member of this Christian cell group and they were looking for others. The Chinese believers I met took risks to come together, and they wept for the joy of fellowship. Would I be as devoted in their situation?
The threat of imprisonment in China separates the faithful from the faithless. The test of loyalty in my culture is very different. It’s often a test of material generosity.
In the passage above, Paul lists indicators of grace at work—faith (yes I have pretty good faith), speech (my language is mostly okay), knowledge (I read the Bible), complete earnestness (well, I try), and love (I’m better now than before). Then he lays out the ultimate litmus test—do I give money?
Money is essential in our world, so it’s a great test of my loyalty to Christ. And the answer is in black and white. All the rest is soft words. Numbers don’t lie. Either I’ve committed a percentage of my income and I give it, or I don’t. With a few simple calculations I can find out if my heart loves Jesus like my mouth says I do.
Heaven watches me with a pen poised over the Book of Recorded Deeds. Reading from the book, God will say to my Chinese friends, “Well done, good and faithful servants.”
Will I, too, hear those words?
Prayer: Holy One, show me how to give money.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
Come, let us sing for joy to the LORD; let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation. Let us come before him with thanksgiving and extol him with music and song. (Psalms 95:1, 2) (NIV)
We jammed into a circus tent with a hundred African Christians. They were gathered for a week of camping, worship, and instruction in Doma, Zimbabwe.
A soloist’s voice spread a mournful plea through the tent. Hearts opened to catch her tempo and ride its momentum toward God. Soon, five or six voices sustained the final note of each phrase. The parts of their harmony ranged from soprano-yellow down to baritone-purple. As more worshipers rose from the dirt floor, new voices cried out the intercessory theme.
Two or three verses into the song, some metered out the base rhythm with handclaps. Others took up counterparts to the percussion of hands. Deft palms grew into an orchestra of clapping that punctuated the flying vocal notes.
The next layer was whistles and shouts. Women spiked the praise with shrill yells as they patted their mouths like an American Indian war call. The whole congregation stomped and boogied until a holy dust cloud rose as an earthier version of the glory of God that pushed the Israelites out of Solomon’s temple.
God’s gift of music has been abducted by the evil one. In days past, African tribal music accompanied the hedonistic worship of ancestral spirits. My Christian friends reclaimed their music for God’s glory. They snatched the sacred prize from Satan’s camp, purified it with the blood of Christ, and reveled before their King with the gift held above their heads.
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- Written by: Don Goulding
Knowledge puffs up, but love builds up. If someone thinks he knows something, he does not yet know to the degree that he needs to know. But if someone loves God, he is known by God. (1 Corinthians 8:1-3)
“Why do they have gargoyles on the church?” “Why do they eat pure fat?” “Why won’t they sit on cement?”
The American teens of our mission trip to Hungary asked too many questions. They wore the leaders down until we finally set a limit—three cultural questions per day.
I also suffer from brainitis. It’s the disease of using knowledge to control my environment instead of trusting God. Brainitis is a fear based malady. I fear that what I can’t understand I can’t control, and what I can’t control will hurt me.
Knowledge puffs up. It inflates my pride into thinking I can manage the unending variables necessary to direct the future. What knowledge should do is make me realize how much more I have to learn. It should humble me into dependence on God.
There’s only one who fathoms every intricacy of all realms. God holds in his consciousness all of history’s words, thoughts, and actions, and he weaves them into a tapestry of eternal prosperity for those who love him.
Because of God’s sovereignty and love, it’s okay to lay down the news reports. I must let my spiritual organs recover from all that data saturation. Rather than feeding my fearful whys, it’s time to bask in God’s friendship.
Love cures brainitis. I’m called to the productivity of love, not to the waste of worry.
Prayer: Almighty God, silence my whys with your love.