No Need for A Costume (Friday Devotional)

Therefore confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, so that you may be healed. The prayer of the righteous is powerful and effective.

- James 5:16

Like a lot of people, we spent last night passing out candy to trick-or-treaters, smiling at all the different costumes the kids were wearing. From Avengers to cowboys, Stormtroopers to ladybugs, a steady stream of children came to our front porch hoping that ours would be a house that passed out “good candy” (based on their faces, it was.)

Halloween is a fun night because it gives everybody a chance to dress up for the night, to put on a mask or a cape and pretend to be somebody else. For one night, you’re not a benchwarmer on your flag football team, you’re Iron Man. For one night, you’re not gap-toothed or chubby, you’re Princess Elsa. On Halloween, everybody gets to pretend to be who they wish they were instead of who they actually are.

Unfortunately, many of us think we have to approach church as though every day is Halloween—we put on a mask of cheerful righteousness and show our brothers and sisters in Christ only the person we wish we were. Whether because we’re worried about others’ judgment or because all we see are Christians who seem to have it all together, there’s a reluctance to come through the church doors without some degree of pretending.

Yet Scripture encourages us to lay aside our masks and come to one another honestly in confession and prayer. When you are willing to show fellow believers who you really are—your struggles and your highlights—you can rightfully call them your brothers and sisters in faith instead of just likeminded acquaintances.

Christ established the church knowing that we are capable of far more for the kingdom together than separately—but if we’re going to walk the journey of faith together, we must really do it together, not with performative righteousness but with sincerity. So may we put the costumes away and love one another well, offering one another truth instead of a show.

Changing the Scenery (Friday Devotional)

“But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

- Acts 1:8

Something I learned about myself early in adulthood—something which continues to be true today—is that I can’t be cooped up in an office all day long. The custodian at our church has already gotten used to finding me doing laps around the building when the weather is nice in the afternoon, just as our ministry assistant has grown accustomed to me doing my sermon writing on Fridays at a nearby coffee shop. And rarely does a day go by that I eat lunch at my desk—whether at home or a restaurant, I’m out of the building midday.

My office is a comfortable place, ideal in many ways for getting work done: my books are there, my laptop charger is already plugged in, and the Wifi is (usually) reliable. But sometimes you just need a change of scenery.

When Jesus gave his final instructions to the disciples before ascending into heaven, he urged them to spread the gospel far and wide. While they were called to first be his witnesses in Jerusalem, they were then to move to the larger community of Judea, then to the hostile territory of Samaria, and ultimately to the very ends of the earth. Jesus did not intend for the gospel to be a localized message reserved exclusively for the disciples’ friends and family—if the kingdom was to flourish, Jesus’s followers would have to go beyond the familiar.

That command extends to us today—for us to be obedient to the commission Jesus has given us, we have to be willing to change the scenery every once in a while. The circle of people to whom we show the love of Christ cannot be so tight that there’s no room for more; our routines cannot be so regimented that we’re unwilling to go places the gospel has not yet reached.

Sharing the gospel is not something reserved for a certain day of the week, a particular building, or a special group of people. So may you be willing to step out of your comfort zone in the name of obediently sharing your faith—in the name of evangelism, may you be willing to change the scenery.

What Ministry Looks Like (Friday Devotional)

Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who activates all of them in everyone.

- 1 Corinthians 12:4-6

If you’d dropped by my office sometime this week, there are any number of things you might have found me doing: studying Scripture, talking with a prospective member about faith in Christ, and praying for our church and surrounding community, just to name a few things. Those, after all, are some of the duties of a pastor. That’s what ministry looks like.

If you’d gone just a few blocks down the road to my house, you’d have found my wife engaged in a totally different world of tasks. You might have found her calling to check on me while she changed our daughter’s diaper. You might have seen her reading to our son while our daughter slept, making sure he got some one-on-one time with Mommy. No matter when you dropped by, you’d have seen tired eyes but busy hands, the marks of a person trying to take care of others. Because that’s also what ministry looks like.

I’d hazard a guess that, if you looked hard enough, you’d find acts of ministry happening all over our city—at the dentist and the police station, in cubicles and hospital rooms, on the DART train and the school bus. Wherever the lonely are comforted, the hungry are fed, and the hurting are healed, the Lord is at work. Wherever you see the love of Christ being modeled, you are witnessing ministry.

Sometimes we fall into the trap of thinking ministry is reserved for the professionals, that it takes a seminary degree or the approval of an ordination council to make you fit for “real ministry.” But Scripture is clear that we are all called to proclaim the gospel, to bear witness to the grace of Jesus Christ. So as you go about your daily work, whatever it may be, do so not just with dedication but with holy purpose, ready to live for Christ in everything you do—because that’s what ministry looks like.

Most Valuable (Friday Devotional)

Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

- 1 Corinthians 13:7

My mornings start the same way every day. At 4:30, my alarm goes off and I stumble into the living room to pour my first cup of coffee. I spend the next hour curled up in a comfortable chair reading, then at 5:30 I lace up my tennis shoes and run 2 miles. By the time I’ve showered and gotten dressed, the rest of my family is awake and I spend some time with them before heading to the office. From beginning to end, it’s a routine that borders on ritual, beloved and unchanging. Whatever else the day brings, it always starts with my routine.

…except this week. And next week. And probably the one after that.

With a newborn baby at home, my morning routine is suddenly a thing of the past. Sometimes that’s because 4:30 is feeding time, and I’m too busy burping Katherine or changing her diaper to read. Sometimes it’s because Katherine woke us up so many times in the night that I’m loath to get up any sooner than I have to. And in the case of one morning this week, it’s because when I try to read, I’m too tired and stressed to focus on what I’m reading.

I’ve missed my routine, no doubt, and I look forward to the day when we’re all on roughly the same sleep schedule. But I realized something the other morning—and when I say morning, I mean 1:30 in the morning—when I was giving Katherine a bottle: even the things we value most pale in comparison to the people we value most.

In 1 Corinthians 13, Scripture’s famous “love chapter,” Paul tells us much of what it means to love—how love is patient and kind, how it keeps no records of wrongs, how it rejoices in the truth. And again and again, Paul makes clear that love is, at its core, unselfish. When you love someone, getting your way is less important than their well-being. When you love someone, your hopes and ideas can give way to theirs. Love, as Scripture says, “bears all things.”

On the cross, Christ showed us the ultimate example of love by giving himself for us, sacrificing his very life for our sakes. Those who would seek to follow him must understand that love is built upon that foundation: not affection or commonalities, but a willingness to sacrifice. For when we love, we are able to see what—and who—is truly valuable.

The Smallest Teachers (Friday Devotional)

At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” He called a child, whom he put among them, and said, “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever becomes humble like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me. If any of you put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were fastened around your neck and you were drowned in the depth of the sea.”

- Matthew 18:1-6

For the past three days, I’ve been getting to know my daughter, Katherine Joye Camp, who we welcomed into the world on Tuesday morning. The days and nights have been filled with diaper changes, feedings, photos, visits by family and friends, and not nearly enough sleep. And as you probably guessed, I love our little girl more than I ever could have imagined.

In the quiet moments in our hospital room, when the nurses have been busy elsewhere and Katherine’s been contentedly sleeping, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the responsibilities Jesus gave us with regards to children in Matthew 18. The Lord not only cared about children, but wanted us to learn from them—and in six simple verses, gave us three separate instructions.

The first is to become like children—to humble ourselves by recognizing and even embracing our own vulnerabilities so that we might rely on our Father instead of ourselves. Since her birth, Katherine has been totally reliant on the adults in her life, especially her mother and me. For her to flourish, she is counting on us to be with her and give her what she needs. Jesus says that as adults, the greatest in the kingdom of heaven is the one who adopts exactly that posture, who abandons any pretense of self-sufficiency and instead recognizes that it is God who sustains us. In a world that calls for strength, Jesus calls us to be as vulnerable as children.

The second instruction Jesus gives us is to welcome children—not just to tolerate them, but welcome them as though they were Christ himself. For the past three days, I’ve been reminded not only of the joys of caring for infants, but of the inconveniences as well: they can’t follow instructions yet, they can’t control their own bodies yet, and generally speaking they don’t give you much of a break. And yet Jesus says were are to respond to these most demanding of humans not with cold shoulders or begrudging help, but open arms. The weakest among us are also the neediest, but as far as Christ is concerned that is more reason to love them, not less.

Jesus’s final instruction is to make the world safe for children, to keep them safe from “stumbling blocks” which might cause them to fall away from the Lord. Our approach to life is often self-centered—we’re thinking about what we need to get through the day, what we need to stay happy and healthy. Jesus reminds us to broaden our focus and think about how our actions are affecting the least among us. For three days now, I’ve had to be more concerned with Katherine’s needs than my own, and while the world says that kind of attitude is the exception, Jesus says it should be the norm. Life doesn’t happen in a vacuum—we each have a responsibility to think about how we’re affecting the weak and the vulnerable among us.

In three days, Katherine Joye has already reminded me of something Andrew Kenneth has been showing me for nearly three years, something Christ himself told us: that children are not only learners, but teachers. If we will give them our attention, our respect, and our love, who knows what spiritual lessons they will teach us.