I’m sitting on a chair at my desk, because I believe the chair will hold me up for as long as I sit in it. If I believed the chair was literally on its last legs and would collapse at some point, sending me quickly—and unexpectedly—to the ground, I would not be sitting here.

 

Earlier this morning, I took a quick break to run an errand for my lovely bride. I drove my car to complete that task, because I believed the car would get me safely to my destination. That faith, if you will, also involved a trust in other drivers, that they would travel in the correct lanes, stop at red lights, yield when required, etc. Had I believed that my car was not roadworthy, or that the other drivers were going to break traffic laws, I would not have driven my car.

 

A little over 30 years ago, I married the aforementioned lovely bride, because I believed we both meant the vows we made, when we promised to take one another from that day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health. I believed that each of us would love, honor, and cherish the other until death do we part. Had I believed that either of us (or both of us), did not really mean those vows, I would not have said, “I do.”

 

I live out what I believe, even if I’m just sitting at a desk or running an errand. I do likewise in the more important aspects of life, such as marriage and faith in God. My actions reveal my beliefs. I suspect the same is true for you. You see what I believe; I see what you believe. In the case of faith, if you believe that God is real, that the Bible is His Word, that He came to the earth in the person of Jesus, that He lived a perfect life, that He died on the cross to pay the penalty for your sins, and that He not only knows what’s best for you, but wants what’s best for you, then you do your best to obey Him and put your eternity in His hands. If you don’t believe those things, then you obey yourself or someone else. Stated simply, if your faith is in Jesus, you follow Him; if it’s not, you don’t.

 

Speaking for myself, I do believe in Jesus, so when life doesn’t make sense, I still follow. When I have trouble understanding something in the Bible, I still believe. When God tells me to do something I don’t want to do, I still strive to do it. When God tells me not to do something I want to do, I still do my best to avoid it. When I’m struggling and hurting and suffering, I turn to God, not away from Him. When doubts and questions shake me to the core of my soul, I still trust in Him. When life in this world seems utterly hopeless, I don’t give up. Why? Because, again, I believe that God is real, that He knows what’s best for me, and that He wants what’s best for me. His ways are better than mine and He always has something good in store for me, sooner or later (even if the “later” will happen in heaven).

 

And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him. – Hebrews 11:6

 

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, declares the Lord. As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. – Isaiah 55:8-9

 

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. – Romans 8:28

 

Troy Burns

My friend woke up with a splitting headache, so his mom (who’s a doctor), told him to take three ibuprofen. My friend did not take the medicine and his headache worsened. So, I knew right then and there that ibuprofen is ineffective for taking away the pain of headaches.

 

Another friend drove a car that kept overheating, so he took it to a mechanic who diagnosed the problem as a broken water pump that needed replacing. My friend did not replace the pump and his vehicle continued to overheat until his engine was damaged and he could no longer drive. So, I knew right then and there that water pumps do not prevent automobiles from overheating.

 

I know man who’s a Christian and he once had a lustful thought about a woman who was not his wife. He also joked around with his fellow employees for about 20 minutes when he was supposed to be working. He earns $36.00 per hour, so he essentially stole $12.00 from his company by failing to do his job for one-third of an hour. In addition, he’s dealt with multiple, ongoing struggles when it comes to loving and forgiving other people. So, I knew right then and there that Christianity is false and it doesn’t work in our lives.

 

If you haven’t guessed already, I’m sharing hypothetical scenarios that illustrate something I see all too often: judging the Christian faith based on the failures of those who follow Jesus, rather than on Jesus Himself. If a Christian does something that God says not to do (or if he avoids something that God says he should do), that does not mean that God is false. What it does mean is that the person messed up and failed to follow God completely.

 

Having said that, for those of us who follow Jesus, this does not mean that the way we live in this world is not critical; it is. I know too many people who have struggled with their faith, and even lost it entirely, because of the way Christians have acted. I always remember the song, “What if I Stumble?” released by DC Talk more than 25 years ago. The lyrics sum up the issue quite well:

 

 

The song takes seriously the high calling of representing Jesus on this earth, as it repeatedly asks the questions: “What if I stumble? What if I fall? What if I lose my step and I make fools of us all?”

 

As the old saying goes, “You may be the only Jesus some people ever see.” This can be a good thing or a bad thing. We can live in a way that doesn’t make sense unless God exists, and thereby shine our lights in this dark world and lead other people to the God we serve. That’s a good thing. We can also live in a way that demonstrates our lack of faith in what we claim to believe. That’s a bad thing and it’s caused too many people to want nothing to do with Christianity.

 

Take the ibuprofen. Replace the broken water pump. Do what God says and avoid what He says to avoid. Live like you actually believe what you say you believe. It means everything for yourself and for the world that’s watching.

 

Troy Burns

On a recent trip down memory lane, I read some old blog posts, one of which began with the following words, written nearly two years ago:

 

 

Those thoughts come from a blog entitled, “Goodbye for Now.” I can write much of the same today, as my girl prepares for her final trek to Arizona in less than two weeks, except this current blog is entitled, “Goodbye Forever?” I’m exaggerating, of course, since she’ll still come home to visit, but she’ll never reside in my house again. I do know that in some ways this will always be her house, but I also know that it’s no longer her home.

 

She’s engaged to a young man whom she’ll marry shortly after graduating from college next spring. I was the first man in her life, but she’ll soon begin her journey with the last man. As I shared earlier, she stole my heart; now her own heart belongs to someone else. And her new married life will be lived in Phoenix, some 1,400 miles away from her childhood home, where we celebrated so many “firsts,” and are now faced with so many “lasts.”

 

But it’s not all sad and gloomy. In that blog from nearly two years ago, I also shared some of what blogger and author Kami Gilmour wrote: “Be fully present to support [her] and look forward to the future through the lens of [her] life, not backward through the lens of my life.” Instead of mourning what I’m “losing,” I’ll do everything I can to focus on how exciting this new stage of life will be for her.

 

It feels like I’m saying “Goodbye Forever,” but in reality, it’s just another version of saying “Goodbye for Now.” And no matter what happens on this earth, since my daughter and I both follow Jesus, we can look forward to the time when we’ll live eternally in a new heaven and a new earth, where God “will wipe every tear from [our] eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away” (Revelation 21:4). When that time comes, we’ll never have to say “Goodbye” again, not for now and not forever.

 

Troy Burns

– Mark Batterson in Win the Day

 

That quote has stuck with me since we first discussed it in our previous message series. If we really care about living God’s way, and not giving into temptation, there will be pain. It’s not a question of if, but when. It’s sometimes painful—and can even feel like a sacrifice—to do what God says, and to steer clear of what He says to avoid. But, again, if we truly want to live God’s way, it’s much more painful to give in to temptation and live with that regret. It will hurt either way, but one type of pain is worth it.

 

If temptations were easy to resist, they wouldn’t be tempting. But we know better; we know from too many personal experiences that overcoming our sinful desires is really, really hard. We see in the Bible that temptations are to be resisted (James 4:7), endured, and escaped (1 Corinthians 10:13). We also see that temptations cause suffering and we need help to overcome them (Hebrews 2:18). In addition, the ungodly desires that tempt us are harmful and can lead us into ruin and destruction (1 Timothy 6:9).

 

The writer of Hebrews encourages us to “throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles,” and then a few verses later, we’re reminded that, “in [our] struggle against sin, [we] have not yet resisted to the point of shedding [our] blood” (Hebrews 12:4). That verse makes it clear that our efforts to overcome sin and temptation launch us into an extremely difficult and painful battle. It calls to mind the struggles of Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane, just before He was arrested and eventually crucified. He prayed to His Father, God, to take away His suffering, but then He said, “Yet not my will, but yours be done.”

 

Jesus’ soul was overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death, and He dealt with the most severe conflict with temptation that He had ever encountered. He experienced such anguish that as He prayed intensely, His sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground. Or, you might say, His resistance to sin was so great that it forced His blood through his pores.

 

Of course, in Hebrews 12:2, we see that the unimaginable struggles of Jesus were worth it to Him. He endured the cross because of the joy set before Him. He chose the pain of present-tense discipline over the pain of future-tense regret. For those of us who follow Jesus, we can do the same. We will never have to endure the horrific suffering that Jesus endured, specifically because He already went through it for us. But we can follow His example and fight, with everything we have, against temptation and sin, knowing that while the battle is painful, it is more than worth it.

 

Troy Burns

Hear me, my Chiefs! I am tired; my heart is sick and sad. From where the sun now stands I will fight no more forever. – Chief Joseph

 

Perhaps more than any other time in my life, people are divided. They take passionate stances on issues, often moving to the extremes on one side or the other. The most vocal among us speak publically about their beliefs and opinions. They appear to enjoy conflict and express an intense dislike, if not hatred, for those they consider to be enemies on the other extremes of the issues.

 

In the 1993 movie, Searching for Bobby Fischer, a young chess prodigy named Josh Waitzkin refuses to harden himself in order to become a champion like the famous, but unlikable, Bobby Fischer. Josh does end up taking lessons from a former great champion named Bruce Pandolfini. In one scene, Bruce asks Josh, “Do you know what it means to have contempt for your opponent? Josh replies, “No,” and Bruce explains, “It means to hate them. You have to hate them Josh, they hate you.” To that Josh replies, “But I don’t hate them.”

 

I can relate to young Josh in that interchange. There are people who seem to hate me, simply because my beliefs are different from their own. My natural response is to hate them back, but I don’t. I might disagree with them, but I have no personal hatred for them as fellow human beings. In fact, since I strive to follow Jesus, my goal is to love every person the way God loves them, as we learn from the most well-known of all Bible verses: For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life (John 3:16).

 

I also know from the Bible that while Jesus was being crucified (not because of a single crime or sin He ever committed), He said to God, Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing. If Jesus can ask that for the very people who were killing Him in such an unjust manner, perhaps I can show some grace to those who despise me.

 

It also helps me to remember that while we are in a battle, other people are not my enemies, no matter how much they might view me that way. As we discover in Ephesians 6:12, our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the powers of this dark world and the spiritual forces of evil.

 

What’s more, I have no interest in fighting with anyone, especially not in a public manner where we essentially scream at each other through megaphones on a busy street corner, so to speak. Those who agree with me will say, “Exactly!” or “That’s right!” Those who disagree will not be swayed in the least; if anything, they will push back even harder and treat me more like their enemy.

 

Having said that, if someone wants to sit down with me, in person, and have a calm, rational discussion where each of us listens, seeks to understand the other, and demonstrates compassion, then I’m all in for that. Otherwise, I’m out and I will fight no more forever. Instead, I’m striving to live out the words of the apostle Paul in Romans 12:18: If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.

 

Troy Burns

Our country is divided, marked frequently by two opposite extremes. If you don’t believe me, you’re ignorant and probably evil, and I never want to speak to you again, nor do I want anything to do with you for the rest of my life. I don’t mean that seriously, of course, but it seems that many feel that way when it comes to other people with whom they disagree.

 

Perhaps the heart of the problem is that we do not look deeply and honestly enough at ourselves. I remember our beloved former pastor at Sunrise, the late Mark Kent, preaching on a Sunday morning and noting how people often say they won’t attend a worship service “because there are too many hypocrites in church.” Mark’s response was basically this: “No, that’s not true. There’s always room for one more.”

 

As was often the case, Mark delivered some deep truth, mixed with a healthy dose of humor. His point, obviously, was that we’re all hypocrites. There may be different degrees, motives, and intentions, but we all live in ways that don’t line up with what we say we believe. But instead of admitting that and dealing with it, we tend to judge other people for doing essentially the same thing we’re doing.

 

Along those lines, I read the excerpt below from the new book, Uncanceled, by Phil Robertson, of “Duck Dynasty” fame:

 

 

If that doesn’t summarize what we see in our nation and in the church, I don’t know what does! Jesus talked about judging others in Matthew chapter 7, where He said that we will be judged in the same way we judge others. One of the many dangers of passing such judgment is that our own standard will come back to haunt us. To make things worse, when we condemn someone’s behavior, whether it’s sinful or simply different than our own, we almost never use the proper standard of judgment.

 

We tend to judge others according to our own strengths and opinions, and our judgments are based on extremely limited knowledge. We should also recognize the difference between arrogant and humble judgment. I ran across some examples of both kinds:

 

Arrogant judgment says, “I would never do something like that.”

 

Humble judgment says, “Though I may not struggle like they do, I sin against Jesus in 10,000 other ways.”

 

Arrogant judgment says, “I’m better than them.”

 

Humble judgment says, “We both need Jesus.”

 

Speaking for myself, I have enough trouble judging my own motives, let alone someone else’s. And even if I could judge properly, I know that I sin and fall short as much, if not more than, the people who are supposedly worse than I am. With that in mind, I’m deciding to control what I can control: my actions. I want to become a better version of myself and actually live out what I say I believe. I’ll know I’ve succeeded when I’ve earned the best possible reputation with those who know me better than anyone else in the world.

 

This is summed up well by Mark Batterson, who writes the following in his book, Win the Day: “Relationally, success is when those who know you best respect you most. At the end of the day, I want to be famous in my home.”

 

Troy Burns

I act like a kind, joyful, and patient person at the church building on Sundays, then sometimes when I leave the parking lot and another driver cuts me off, I react like an unkind, miserable, impatient man. That’s just one of many examples I could share, but it illustrates these haunting words: “It’s much easier to act like a Christian than it is to react like one… It’s our reactions that reveal who we really are.”

 

Those words come from Mark Batterson in Win the Day, the book we’re using as a basis for our current message series. As I read the chapter for this week, I was struck by the author’s words and found myself looking into a mirror, figuratively speaking. I’m often happy with my actions, and I’m often horrified by my reactions, especially since the latter reveals more about who I really am. How do I know that’s true? Jesus said as much:

 

⁴³ No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit. ⁴⁴ Each tree is recognized by its own fruit. People do not pick figs from thornbushes, or grapes from briers. ⁴⁵ A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of. – Luke 6:43-45

 

I hate to admit it (in fact, it hurts me to admit it), but there’s often little difference between professing, or even actual Christians on the one hand, and people who don’t follow Jesus on the other. And what hurts me the most to admit is that I’m part of the problem.

 

As one of my closest friends says it, “I want to be a Christian on the inside.” He knows how easy it is for us to pretend outwardly, to be hypocrites, while something entirely different is going on inside of us. He wants to be the same, inside and out, and live as a genuine, obedient Christ follower in every aspect of his life. So do I.

 

Have you ever eaten a bunch of garlic, and no matter what you did, you could tell by other people’s reactions that you still reeked of the stuff? A number of years ago, I had the opportunity to travel with some good friends to Seattle for a couple of Mariners games. A huge highlight of the trip (for me at least) was eating an order of their popular garlic fries, loaded with lots and lots of chopped garlic cloves. The fries were absolutely delicious and enhanced what was already a magical experience at the ballpark.

 

If you’ve ever eaten a large amount of garlic, you know what happens for quite a while after you eat it. You smell very strongly of the stuff and there’s not much you can do about it. You can brush your teeth, scrub your tongue with a paper towel, chew gum, eat breath mints, and wipe the gum or mint juice all over your face, but the smell will likely stay with you until at least the following day.

 

A few of us on that Seattle trip had eaten garlic fries and then drove back to Spokane the next day. The day after that (now two days removed from the garlic fry consumption), the wife of the guy who drove our group to Seattle and back got into her car and said, “this thing reeks of garlic!” The issue with garlic is that the odor doesn’t just come from your mouth, it’s actually expunged through your pores as you sweat, as well as through your mouth. In other words, you can’t really contain the smell no matter what you try.

 

To circle back on what Jesus said, maybe the garlic is the bad fruit from the bad tree, but what if we eat something that creates a much more pleasant aroma? Might that be the good fruit from the good tree? I want to be the good man who brings good things out of the good stored up in my heart. That means my heart needs to be right, and God can change my heart and make me a Christian on the inside. Then it will be a good thing when my reactions reveal who I really am.

 

Troy Burns

The first time I attended college, I majored in English and gained a lifelong love for language and literature. I still read poetry and novels to this day, one of which includes a passage describing a rattlesnake: “The Creator of the Universe had put a rattle on its tail. The Creator had also given it front teeth which were hypodermic syringes filled with deadly poison.” After that description, the author wrote, “Sometimes I wonder about the Creator of the Universe.”

 

As a follower of Jesus, I’m taken aback by such writing, yet I admit that in my life, I’ve wrestled with serious questions and doubts. I also know that the Bible contains some deep questions for God, even some accusations that are thrown His way. One such passage that jumps to mind is in Psalm 44:

 

 

Another such passage is found in Psalm 77:

 

 

And just one more example includes questions raised in Psalm 13:

 

 

Perhaps the bigger question is why we even have to struggle so much in the first place. Why did God even allow the option to sin and to make wrong choices that lead to terrible outcomes? Why were Adam and Eve able to sin, in the event we call “the fall?” Why would God permit such a tragic event, such a flagrant act of rebellion, in full knowledge of its horrific consequences?

 

The Bible does not tell us directly why God permitted sin to enter the world. But from what we do know in Scripture, we can trust that God had good reasons for allowing the fall, whether or not we fully understand them. It’s also critical to remember that, as James N. Anderson writes, “Our world is not merely a fallen creation. It’s a fallen creation into which the eternal Son of God has entered, taking on human nature, perfectly expressing God’s likeness in our midst, living a morally flawless life, making atonement for our sins through his sacrificial death, rising in triumph from the grave, and ascending into heaven, where he continually intercedes and secures for us an eternal joyful dwelling-place in God’s presence.”

 

In addition, when we read the Bible, not just a secular novel, we find a remnant of faith in the writers, despite their struggles. As we read later in Psalm 77, following the writer’s seemingly unheard cries of distress:

 

 

And as Psalm 13 continues, after the writer feels forgotten by God:

 

 

If you were not aware of the Bible passages in which the writers question, and even accuse God, you may be taken aback, as I once was. But what’s the difference when people of faith work through their doubts and questions? Hope.

 

We tend to think that doubt will lead to a weakening, or even an abandonment, of our faith. But what if the opposite is true? What if we respond to our doubts in ways that will actually help us grow stronger in our faith? As Lee Strobel writes, “A bout of doubt may turn out to be one of the healthiest and most hope-inspiring experiences you’ll ever go through.”

 

Doubt is different than unbelief. If we’re struggling with doubts, we’re not fully believing or disbelieving. We’re just stuck on some questions or concerns. Doubt is not sinful and God does not condemn us when we ask Him questions, even the really hard-hitting questions. If that were the case, we wouldn’t read some of those challenging words I shared from the Psalms.

 

A genuine faith is a tested faith. As Rufus Jones writes, “If you have not clung to a broken piece of your old ship in the dark night of the soul, your faith may not have the sustaining power to carry you through to the end of the journey.” As we climb out of the depths of despair, and as we fight through our uncertainties, we can arise with a deeper, more hope-filled faith than we had before.

 

Troy Burns

When we took my daughter to college in Phoenix last summer, I drove every single one of the nearly 2,800 round trip miles. I didn’t have to do that. My wife and my son, who are both excellent drivers, made the trip with me and were more than willing to drive. But I still drove every mile myself. Why? Control. I wanted (needed?) to be the one operating the vehicle at all times.

 

And it’s not just driving that presents a control issue for me. My natural inclination is to “take the wheel” in every circumstance of my life. When I do that, if things don’t go my way, I might struggle to trust God. I don’t like to admit it, but the truth is that I often act as though I’m in charge of my life. If I’m brutally honest with myself, I even try to control things so much that I forget about God (or at least leave Him out of it). But the undeniable fact is that I have little control over my life. And if you’re reading this, maybe you realize that the same is true for you. The more control you seek, the less you actually have.

 

In an old movie revolving around race car driving, the main character has a crash and his doctor says, “Tell me what you love so much about racing.” The driver replies, “Speed. To be able to control it. To know that I can control something that’s out of control.” In response, the doctor answers, “Control is an illusion, you infantile egomaniac. Nobody knows what’s gonna happen next: not on a freeway, not in an airplane, not inside our own bodies, and certainly not on a racetrack with 40 other infantile egomaniacs.”

 

On the other hand, I read a quote from Skye Jethani that not only reminds me of the doctor’s words in that movie, but also reveals the solution to the problem: “Faith is the opposite of seeking control. It is surrendering control. It embraces the truth that control is an illusion – we never had it and we never will.”

 

That’s the bottom line: I seek control when I need to surrender control. It’s even true when it comes to the language I use to write this blog. As I often discover, the words of others are more powerful than my own. This is the case in the song, “Control,” by Tenth Avenue North, with these fitting and meaningful lyrics:

 

 

I’m praying that God will help me to give up what I want the most: control. And if I remember that He is in charge of everything, anyway, I just might be able to do it. I don’t know what will happen next, but God does. I’m trying to pry my hands off the wheel right now. I’m almost there…

 

Troy Burns

 

Lately, the old song by Don Moen (quoted above) has practically “played on repeat” in my mind. Of course, the real source of the lyrics is the Bible, where we read that God is “the one who made a road through the sea, a pathway through the surging waters,” and that He is about to do something new when He “will make a road in the wilderness and paths in the wastelands” (Isaiah 43:16, 19).

 

The old song plays in my head because, as we all know, life is unbearably difficult at times, to the point that we face challenges we believe are impossible to overcome. But God is in the business of making a way where there seems to be no way.

 

A few months ago, I was sharing with our elders and youth minister about how hopeless it can feel when it comes to the difficulties we face in living through the current situation in America and in the world. I even told them that the apparent impossibility of these circumstances has made me feel like giving up on more than one occasion. On the positive (and more important side), I also shared how God convicted me that we are here in this time and place for a reason, and that giving up in the midst of a crisis or challenge is not the right time to walk away.

 

Since I love to run, I described an analogy about those stretches on the road when I’m ascending a steep hill, and how I never let myself walk until I reach level ground again. During those times, I tell myself that if I need to walk, I can do it after I’ve crested the hill. Then what usually happens (actually, what always happens) is that once I return to level ground, I no longer need to walk. With this in mind, I told our leaders that I’m praying and trusting that something similar will happen with the challenges we face.

 

What’s incredibly encouraging is to see is the unity of our leadership. I believe if we continue to focus on the bigger picture of showing love and concern for others, while striving to do what is biblical, then God will bless our efforts greatly. They say the darkest hour is just before dawn. Maybe it’s no coincidence that a “Sunrise” could be just around the corner for us.

 

At the risk of sounding overly optimistic or naïve, I’ve felt for some time that we can potentially come out of this whole thing better and stronger than we were before, even if there are days (and weeks and months) when it just seems to get worse and worse. That’s ultimately up to God, of course, but if we are faithful and prayerful, and if we continue to focus on what’s most important, God just might “make a way where there seems to be no way.” He just might reveal a breathtaking sunrise to follow that darkest hour. One of our elders, Bud, discussed it in the sense of doing our small, but necessary part and then seeing God do His miraculous, seemingly impossible part. As Bud said, “We just need to figure out what our five loaves and two fish should be. Then we can watch God feed 5,000.”

 

Troy Burns