| January 2, 2000 |
Vol. II, No. 36
|
Living in Texas for the last seven years, I have learned a little bit about cowboy hats. Enough to know I should not be wearing one, at least. Having spent my formative years in the northeast where we are more likely to say 'you-uns' than 'y¹all,' I figure I am lucky they let me stay here without a passport to begin with.
The phrase 'All hat, no cattle,' would apply to someone like me who tried to dress up like a Texan and act like a cowboy for the day. I would be playing a part and committing a fraud. It is laughable to the natives to see someone walking around a ten-gallon hat who clearly can¹t tell which is the business end of a longhorn. That¹s me. I would be all hat and no cattle.
But we can see a similar fraud perpetrated on the church by some within her ranks. They put on their big, fancy hat by claiming to be a child of God, calling themselves a Christian, and inserting themselves among the company of disciples. Beneath that hat grinds the mind of someone who hasn¹t yet learned about the business end of faith.
The extent of their faith is the occasional appearance at the meeting house. They may even come every Sunday and still be all hat. There are some whose presence is more surprising to us than their absence.
To call oneself a disciple of Christ and then purposely neglect the assembling of the saints is evidence of a faith that is all hat. The command is as clear at the dinner bell at the ranch house: ³And let us consider one another in order to stir up love and good works, not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as is the manner of some, but exhorting one another, and so much the more as you see the day approaching" (Heb. 10:24-25).
Some will lift their brims and eye you suspiciously, then say, "Don¹t you know "'forsaking' means that you quit coming altogether? I still come at least once a month."
Cool your spurs, cowgirl. When we teach that the first drink that leads to drunkenness is as wrong as the last, we make an important point about the incremental nature of sin. It becomes easier with each foray into the shadow of deadly works. With worship, the first willful absence may be as harsh as the first snort of whiskey. But that initial experiment deadens the sensibility a little and the next shot is taken more smoothly. That¹s how you got to be a once-a-monther, pardner.
And you still expect to go to heaven, right? How about if we could change your heavenly reward to a once per month affair? You spend 29 days in Hell and then we¹ll let you cross over for a day. What? You expect more out of God? He expects more out of you, too.
The noble name, "Christian," is not some meaningless appellation, but a descriptive term. When you wear the name of God¹s son, you had better be more than all hat. To be Christ-like means having no priority more prior than accepting and giving the blessings of faith (Eph. 1:3, Acts 20:35). To behave otherwise is hypocrisy, an accusation made by Jesus against the play-actors of his day, the Pharisees and scribes. They were all hat with their enlarged fringes and broadened phylacteries (Matt. 23:5). But when it came to justice, mercy and faith, they were no cattle (Matt. 23:23).
To call oneself a disciple of Christ means something, too. It is a claim to be a follower and student of the Master. What kind of follower is constantly found in places where the Master would never go? What kind of student sits at his Master¹s feet so rarely that his presence would surprise the more diligent of the number? One who is all hat.
"Oh, but I am still a child of God." Good for you. Like the prodigal son was still his father¹s boy (Luke 15:11-32)? Is that the kind of faith you imagine for yourself? Even the prodigal son grew discontented and returned and repented of his sins. When will you lift yourself out of the pig slop of a nauseatingly lukewarm faith (Rev. 3:16) and come home?
I have a child myself and I have to come expect certain things out of her; maybe you expect something similar from your child. I expect her to be at the supper table when the meal is served. Could it be that you, child of God, are expected around a supper table of the Lord, which you are neglecting intentionally (1 Cor. 11:23-26)? How many Sundays has it been now? If my daughter were mysteriously absent from our supper table, I would form a posse and hunt down whomever kidnapped her. She wouldn¹t disappear for no cause at all. Where were you last Sunday, child of God? The Christian whose faith is "all hat and no cattle" -- the hypocrite for you greenhorns who are still having trouble following this -- is in grave and eternal peril. As dangerous as the longhorn is to the city slicker, the devil is more deadly, for his horns reach to the soul.
--Jeff S. Smith, Wonsley Drive bulletin, Austin, TX
It was said of some in Old Testament times that “They feared the Lord, yet served their own gods...” (2 Kings 17:33). At first, such a statement sounds strange -- but on second thought, many today do basically the same thing.
They call Sunday “the Lord’s day,” but are not willing to give Him more than an hour or two of it, and often begrudge that hour or two. It is difficult for them to meditate on the death of Jesus and His glorious gospel because their minds are crowded with thoughts of the secular activities they have planned for the afternoon. They are far more likely to look at their watches to see if the preacher is quitting “on time” than to look into their Bibles to see if he is speaking “as the oracles of God” (1 Pet. 4:11). They seem to be more interested in the meat that perishes than the Bread of Life. They sing, “Take Time to Be Holy,” but in many cases they have far more time for nearly anything else than studying and meditating on the truth that could draw them closer to God.
Many worldly-minded church members realize the need to lay by in store as they have been prospered to show their gratitude for the blessings of God and to follow the example of the first century church, but when the paycheck comes, they think of 1,001 other things before they give thought to the kingdom of God and His righteousness. By the time Sunday rolls around, they have nothing left for God but their spare time and their loose change. They sing, “O How I Love Jesus,” but if Christians were being executed, there would not be enough evidence to convict them. They excuse themselves from giving by saying, “I’m just a poor manager. I never seem to have enough time or money to serve the Lord the way I’d like to.” The real problem that many of us have along these lines could be solved if we, like the Macedonians, would first truly give OURSELVES to the Lord, 2 Cor. 8:1-7. We need to learn first-hand what it means to seek God’s kingdom and righteousness first, Matt. 6:33.
--CRJ
In Matt. 13:31-32, Jesus said, “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and sowed in his field, which indeed is the least of all the seeds, but when it is grown it is greater than the herbs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and nest in its branches.”
Note how Jesus used commonplace things to instruct His hearers about the nature of His kingdom. Many of those in Jesus’ audiences were farmers. Likely almost every family had at least a small garden plot. The smallest seed with which they were familiar was the common mustard seed. The mustard seed had become proverbial when speaking of things that were small. In Matt. 17:20, Jesus spoke of a small amount of faith as “faith as a mustard seed.” Yet in the fertile Jordan River valley, the mustard seed frequently produced a plant much larger than any other herb. Scholars and historians have recorded mustard plants in that area up to ten feet in height, so large that birds sometimes built nests in them. It was this phenomenal, almost unbelievable growth that Jesus used to represent the growth of His rule and His cause.
In modern English, the word kingdom usually suggests to our mind the territory and subjects of a king. In early English, the word was more likely to suggest the rule or power exercised by a king. In other words, kingdom usually suggested kingship or kinghood. This was also true of the Greek word Jesus used originally from which our word “kingdom” is translated.
While it is impossible to conceive of kingship without some thought as to those who are ruled over, the primary thrust of Jesus’ parable was His rulership itself.
Jesus was born to be a king, Luke 1:31-33. Yet, when wise men from the East came to visit the newborn King, they did not find Him in the palace of the present king as they expected. He had been born in a stable in the nearby town of Bethlehem. He did not grow up inside palace walls, but in the despised Galilean town of Nazareth. When He began to call men to accompany Him, He did not choose from the rich, the elite, the Jewish nobility. His first four followers were Galilean fishermen. Another follower was called from among the despised publicans who served as customs agents on behalf of the hated Roman government.
Though multitudes followed Jesus when times were good, when He was arrested and crucified, they all forsook Him and fled. After His resurrection, some of His followers began to reassemble. About 120 of them were known to gather in the city of Jerusalem, including eleven of His original twelve apostles. From this small core of followers, in a very short time, came a congregation numbered at 3,000 -- the 5,000 -- and then more and more, Acts 2:41; 4:4; 6:1, &c. Truly the kingdom of heaven was like the proverbial mustard seed, which from the least of beginnings, came to be a great tree.
--CRJ
The mighty oak was once a little nut that stood its ground.