The Choice

Based on Isaiah 55.

You are invited.

Come to the feast –

drink in the goodness

eat your fill

be satisfied.

No money needed –

            Just you.

You are invited

just as you are.

On the fence?

Look around.

The world promises

            abundance

            happiness

            satisfaction

            life

And we buy it.

We spend our money.

And we keep spending...

            hoping for more.

There is never enough

            money

            time

            love.

The world’s promises

            do not satisfy.

We still feel

            empty

            inadequate

            malnourished

            dead.

There must be more.

You are invited.

Come and eat what is good –

            Delightful!

Listen carefully. Find           

integrity

goodness

life-nourishing words.

Find Love.

God promises

            sure, solid, enduring love.

There is rich food here –

food for the body

food for the mind

food for the soul

God is here. Emmanuel –

God with us.

Return to the Lord

            choose the feast.

Come as you are. Find

            forgiveness

            community

            grace.

Seem too good to be true?

God’s ways

            are not our ways.

God’s thoughts

            are not our thoughts.

God abundantly pardons.

God fills us with good things.

God loves us.

You are invited.

You are welcome

            at this table.

So come.

The Elephant

How do we name the elephant in the room? I suppose the first step is to have the courage to walk into the room. Right now it feels like I’m in the room all by myself. With the elephant, of course. And there it is, just staring at me with its tiny dark eyes, watching my every move. Maybe it is wondering, just like I am, what I am going to do.

Time passes. The silence is deafening.

And then a friend comes in and I am so thankful for the company. I know my friend can see the elephant, but she chooses to walk around it, acting like it isn’t there. We talk. About health. About work. About life. We even laugh. And then she leaves.

And the elephant is still there. The one we both ignored.

Another friend comes in. This time I am anxious because I know we need to name the elephant, but I fear she, too, will ignore it. Instead she acknowledges that she heard about the elephant and she stops and looks at it for a minute and then turns uncomfortably away.

I thank her for visiting. I am glad for the company. But the elephant is still there.

“Okay, God. I need your help. There is an elephant in the room and no one is talking about it! What am I supposed to do?”

Silence. But this time the silence is different. God is there. I am not alone.

Slowly the answer comes – in the form of a question. Why is it that God so often answers my questions with a question? “Why aren’t you talking about it?”

Honestly: “I don’t know where to begin.”

And then I am reminded of the parable of the four blind men and the elephant. Each blind man describes the one part of the elephant that he touches. Based on their limited experience of the elephant their descriptions are vastly different from one another. The tusk feels nothing like the tail; the ear feels nothing like the foot.

And God says, “Begin with what you feel.”

“Okay...”

I feel like I’ve been blindsided. I feel hurt. I feel uncertain. I feel afraid. I feel so very vulnerable. And, in all honesty, I feel shame. How could I have been so naive?

I feel like we need to talk about the elephant in the room, even though it is painful and so very uncomfortable. And more than that, I need you to support me, even if we disagree about what we see and feel. I’m tired of arguing. I just want to know that I am loved.

And God says, “So do they.”

"Duh."

So here is the invitation: Need to talk about the elephant in the room? If so, come in. Or invite me out, if that is more comfortable. It might be easier if the elephant isn’t staring at us. Let’s talk. Begin with what you feel. I’ll do my best to listen. And maybe, together, with time, we can figure out what to do about the elephant.

Be Like Her!

Sermon from August 20, 2017. For context, read Matthew 15:10-28.

I remember the rise of gangs in Durham. I was a teacher in the Durham Public School system and over the course of several years I watched the culture in our schools change. While gang violence rarely occurred on the school campus, it was hard to miss the signs. These young men were angry and defensive; and clearly the school system wasn’t meeting their needs.

As it became increasingly evident to me that these young men could care less about atoms and molecules and gravity, I found myself asking what they did care about. And they were more than happy to share. They dreamed about having a secure job where they made enough money to live comfortably. They dreamed about having a wife and children and a nice home. I remember one boy saying he wanted a home with a two-car garage and a white picket fence.

In most cases these dreams contrasted sharply with their current existence. Some of these young men were essentially homeless, finding a sofa here or there to sleep on. They didn’t know who their fathers were and their mothers were incarcerated or too high or too busy to care. Others lived in homes that were so small or so crowded that the only place they could be alone was on the toilet. Still others came to school hungry or high. No wonder learning about the Periodic Table and Newton’s Laws were simply not on their radar.

I finally got bold enough to ask some of the boys in my classes why they joined gangs. Across the board the answer came down to wanting a place to belong; a place to feel safe. The boys needed a place where they were respected and valued and treated with dignity; they longed to be seen as fully human. 

All of these young men were African American or Hispanic – they joined gangs like the Bloods and the Crips and the Norteños. And they were proud to belong to these brotherhoods. These boys and their stories were one of the reasons I left teaching – the public school system simply could not meet their needs. I felt like my hands were tied – there was so very little I could do. I wondered if maybe the church could help.

Today I see the rise of a new type of gang. These gangs draw in young white men. These gangs are called the Neo-Nazis and the Aryan Brotherhood and the Alt-Right – they are all white supremacist gangs. Sadly, I do not know any of these young men – my paths don’t intersect with this population.

But I wonder if their anger and hatred isn’t fueled by the same dreams and the same needs as the black and Hispanic boys I knew in Durham. Dreams for a better life – the deep desire for a place to belong – and that overwhelming need that all of us share – that need for affirmation and love.

I also recognize that these groups must be stopped. Flying Nazi flags and calling for ethnic cleansing and actively hating the Jews and the African Americans and anyone who does not look like them is pure evil.

As Christians who have promised through our baptismal vows to put an end to evil, injustice and oppression in all its forms, we cannot sit idly by.

That brings me to our gospel lesson today. I find this story of Jesus and the Canaanite woman to be deeply problematic. It is hard to imagine Jesus being silent when a woman is calling for help. It is even harder to wrap my head around Jesus telling her that he “was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” In John’s gospel Jesus says, “I am the light of the world” – not of Israel, but of the world. Jesus also says “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son” – world. And in Luke’s gospel Jesus is nearly thrown off a cliff for affirming that God’s salvation is offered to all – Jew and Gentile alike.

But here – right after Jesus tells his disciples that what comes out of their mouths proceeds from their hearts – here Jesus’ words and actions seem completely out of character.

I wonder if Matthew isn’t calling our bluff. I wonder if Matthew is intentionally portraying Jesus this way just to make us look critically at who we are as the Church today. And by Church I don’t mean just this congregation, or even the United Methodist Church.  I wonder if God isn’t challenging the predominantly white Protestant and Catholic churches across this nation today to really see Jesus through this text.

Imagine being the Canaanite woman in this story – the mother of a child who is tormented by demons. Sadly this doesn’t take much imagination for some of us. Our children are truly tormented by demons like alcohol and drugs, or self-loathing and insecurity. It could be that this woman’s child is tormented by the demon of hatred and racism that seems to be running rampant today.

Do you hear the anguish in her voice as she calls out to Jesus, “Have mercy on me?” Have mercy on me, Lord! My child is tormented by a demon! Have mercy! Unfortunately, too often the Church does exactly what Jesus did in this case – the Church says nothing. He did not answer at all. He just kept walking. My heart breaks for that mother as the Church remains silent.

But the mother is persistent; she doesn’t give up. She cries even more loudly, “Have mercy on me!” And the disciples, the followers of Jesus, urge him to send her away. She’s a disruption. A nuisance. All the Church seems to hear is her shouting – no one seems to hear her pain.

And if this isn’t shocking enough, Jesus then says, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” This is the Church in survival mode. This is the Church saying, we need to take care of ourselves. We don’t have enough for anyone else. This is the church operating in scarcity mode. This is the Church that has lost sight of its true calling – we were sent to make disciples of all nations. Just look at Matthew 28. We have been assured that one day people from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, will stand before the throne and before the Lamb, crying out in a loud voice, “Salvation belongs to our God.” See Revelation 7. Jesus was sent to rescue lost sheep everywhere.

Friends, when the Church says, “Send her away, we’ve got to take care of our own,” we need to remember the courage and persistence of the Canaanite woman and go and kneel before our Lord and Maker in the middle of the crowd of naysayers and cry, “Lord, help me.” Lord, help us. We cannot cure our own children without your help. The demons are too strong. The roots of hatred and racism run too deep. Lord, help us.

I really struggle with the fact that in this moment Jesus still doesn’t relent. He responds, “It’s not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs.” But perhaps this is the only way to rattle the Church out of her complacency. Perhaps it is only when Jesus utters a profoundly dehumanizing and racist comment that we begin to see our own sin. Jesus calls this mother unworthy and I, for one, cry NO! This is not the God I worship. I believe that this mother – and her demonized child – are both beloved children of God created by God in the image of God. I will not accept that label for this foreign woman – this compassionate mother – this astonishing human being.

I love that the mother won’t accept this label either. She persists, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs from their master’s table.” Mothers everywhere are emboldened to lift their voices and cry out on behalf of their children. No one should be left behind. No one should be excluded. Everyone, even the least and the last and the lost, deserve a seat at the Lord’s Table.

Friends, we have been silent for too long. In fact, we have been silent for so long that groups like the Alt Right have come to see Christianity as irrelevant. Are we going to become irrelevant and stand by as white supremacy and racism deny the dignity of each human being? Or are we going to be like the Canaanite woman? She was loud and insistent, she was wise and insightful, she was courageous and persistent. And Jesus – and the Church – need that right now. Jesus and the Church need mothers – and fathers – who will stand up for their children. Jesus and the Church need people just like you and like me to stand up for people everywhere – black, Hispanic, white – Jewish, Muslim, Christian – rich and poor – lost and found. And I know that when we do stand up – for all our children – Jesus will respond, “Great is your faith.”

Brothers and Sisters in Christ, are we going to sit idly by as the Church becomes irrelevant? Or are we going to live into our baptismal vows and accept the freedom and power God gives us to resist evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves? Are we going to let the demons possess our children? Or are we going to truly put our faith in Jesus Christ and trust in his grace to save us all – and I mean all?

It’s time for us to have the faith of this Canaanite woman. Jesus can and will cast out these demons – if we are willing to be like her. I am ready. Are you?

Truth Telling

July 3, 2016

I need to share a secret with you. I have discovered that the person sitting on your left is a liar.  Interestingly, I have also discovered that the person sitting on your right is a liar. And you are hopefully not at all surprised to learn that the person sitting in your seat is also a liar.

According to research, 60% of people cannot go 10 minutes without lying. On average, we tell between 10 and 200 lies every day. We lie to our parents, our friends, and even strangers. We tell lies to fit in. We lie to make ourselves look better. We lie to feel good about ourselves. We lie to gain advantage. We lie to hide our weakness. We lie to shift blame. We lie to avoid confrontation. Some lies are small, others are big. But the truth is, we are all liars.

Just think about it: We lie about our weight, we lie about our age, we lie about how much we drink, we lie about the websites we visit, we lie about our abilities. We lie to ourselves and others about all sorts of seemingly trivial things – maybe you call it stretching the truth. And sadly, too often these seemingly trivial lies lead to bigger lies – lies about things that really matter.

Paul’s letter to the Romans says in chapter 3: “There is no one who is righteous, not even one... Their throats are opened graves; they use their tongues to deceive... There is no fear of God before their eyes.”

No one is righteous, not even one. Lying is like the air we breathe! Of course, we learn to lie early. By 6 months most babies know they can cry to gain attention. By age 4, 90% of children have learned to lie to get what they want. I suspect most of us told the “I don’t feel good, I can’t go to school today” lie.

Friends, I bring this up today because I am overwhelmed by the amount of deception I am encountering every day. Through Financial Peace University a whole group of us are being challenged to face the truth about our finances – and let me tell you, it is painful. But the thing that is even more painful is the reality that our youth are being caught in really dangerous lies – lies that can significantly impact their futures. Heartbreaking lies. While I have been wrestling with ways to respond, the tipping point came this week when a colleague confessed to me that she had lied to her congregation.

Friends we are in the midst of a deception epidemic. And I am at a loss.

A Catholic priest once asked me whether I preached sermons or homilies. When I asked the difference he said that a homily unpacked a passage in scripture and a sermon spoke on a theme. Normally I preach homilies – I love wrestling with the text assigned for the day. And our texts for today are awesome! But today I feel called to preach a sermon. I need to speak about deception. Because we all know deception is not of God. God is light; in him there is no darkness at all. Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

Let me speak to three specific points about deception and truth telling:

• Our Moral Code       
• The Slippery Slope             
• Truth Seeking

#1 – Our Moral Code

Have you over noticed that we say lying is wrong – that lying is a sin – but we still do it? Have you ever wondered why? Let me share two stories:

Do you remember Koko the gorilla? Koko knew basic sign language and had a kitten as a companion. Apparently one day Koko tore the kitchen sink off the wall. She then communicated through sign language that the cat had done it. Perhaps Koko feared punishment. Perhaps Koko didn’t want to disappoint her care provider. Isn’t it interesting that even a gorilla can lie?

I also read this week about dolphins that are trained to detect submerged mines and enemy divers. They are trained through positive reinforcement – getting lots of fish when they find an enemy mine. Interestingly, this leads them to lie – identifying a mine when there isn’t one just to get the fish. The trainers keep working with them, changing the reward system, until they are reliable. But even a dolphin will lie, just to get a reward.

You might say we learn to lie as a way to preserve ourselves and our families. Think of Rahab – she lied about the spies so that her family would be saved. Or Corrie ten Boom and others like her, who hid Jews in their homes during World War II. They lied to save the lives of others. And I wonder: Does this make lying acceptable? Is lying ever okay?

Dan Ariely has done extensive research on lying and our moral code. We are all likely to cheat a little bit, just to feel good about ourselves. In a simple study, he gave two groups of college students a quiz with 20 math problems. After 5 minutes he told them to stop. The first group was given $1 for every completed problem. On average each person got $4. The second group was told to rip up their paper and report the number of problems they had completed. On average each person got $7, stretching the truth just a little.

He then repeated the study, with the students tearing up their papers and reporting their results after 5 minutes. But this time he had an actor stand up after 30 seconds and claim to be done. He gave the actor $20 and the actor walked out. And here’s the thing that is so interesting. All of the students were from one university. The actor was wearing a sweatshirt from that university in the first group, and from a rival university in the second group. When the students saw the person from their university walk out with $20 they, on average, walked out with $10. When they saw the person from their rival university walk out, they on average, walked out with $5.

Friends, there are many reasons we lie. But the bottom line is that we learn to lie from our family and our friends. Every time our children see us driving 65 in a 55 mile per hour zone, our children are learning. Every time we participate in a lie – when we become willing participants in the lie – we are causing harm to ourselves and to our community. And this hurts God.

#2 – The Slippery Slope

Let’s face it. We’ve all told lies that really make no difference. It can be as simple as responding “I’m fine” when someone asks how you are doing. Or as minor as “Sorry I’m late – there was traffic.” Or as small as “I just found your email – for some reason it ended up in my spam folder.”

But the potential is there for these small lies become habits. You start lying about lying. You know you were late because you left the house late. But you tell yourself you left the house late because you needed to finish up something when in truth you didn’t want to go to the meeting in the first place. Half truths. Rationalizations.

And as you lie about lying you can develop a habit of lying. It gets easier with each lie. And that twinge of awareness begins to fade. You quit feeling guilty about the lies. This leads you to start believing the lies you tell others. This self-deception is incredibly dangerous. Once you reach this point, while you may still be seeking the Light, you are well on your way to the dark side.

Let me provide an example: A married man became friends with a woman in his office. She often stopped by his desk to chat. They began having lunch together. Initially he felt this twinge of guilt – after all, he was married. But he kept lying to himself. It was just lunch – nothing more. He wasn’t cheating on his wife – they were just eating together. There was nothing wrong.

Friends, we all recognize this as a slippery slope. The devil really is a liar and the father of lies! It is so easy to start rationalizing our lies, to justify them as a positive good! Our lunch conversations will help the business grow! Our lunch conversations are giving me more to talk about with my wife each night. Our lunch conversations are good for my soul! Not.

And our desire to feel good about ourselves leads to broken relationships. Our insatiable desires get us into holes that are so deep we can’t find our way out. Suddenly lawyers are involved. Our curiosity about something becomes a full-blown addiction. Our world falls apart. And our families and our communities suffer the consequences. And God weeps.

#3 – Truth Telling 

How do we stay off this slippery slope? By telling the truth!

Jesus is the truth. When we start spotting lies and naming them we start walking in the truth. When we walk in the truth we start building trusting relationships. And when we start living in the truth we discover healing.

Of course, someone will say, “You can’t always tell the truth!” Just think of Jim Carrey’s movie, Liar, Liar. Telling the truth all the time is hurtful!

Friends, there is a big difference between blurting out rude thoughts and being truthful. What if the truth is that we are afraid? What if the truth is that we don’t want to hurt anyone? What if the deeper issue is that we hate confrontation? Do we defend our lies because it is hard to speak the truth in love? Do we continue to lie in order to avoid facing truths that are disappointing or upsetting? Do we justify our lies out of fear of the truth?

The truth is, every time we lie we hurt God. Lies violate the one who created us. Lies create dividing walls between us and the One who is the Truth – lies led to the crucifixion of Jesus Christ – lies lead to a chaos that is not of God.

So, how do we become truth tellers?

I think we start by telling ourselves the truth. Journaling is a profound way to create space for speaking the truth to ourselves. Anyone who has ever kept a journal knows this. Here we can write about our deepest fears, our greatest challenges, our unspoken desires. The pages of our journals become a sacred space for truth telling and open our eyes to the lies we tell ourselves.

Interestingly, studies have shown that people who keep journals are much less likely to lie than people who do not keep journals. Think about that!

Along with telling ourselves the truth, we become truth tellers through confession. “Merciful God, we confess that we have not loved you with our whole hearts.” Our silent confession needs to name our deceptions before God. Openly and honestly. We need to confess our faults before God. And then we need to claim the forgiveness we have received in the name of Jesus. We need to embrace the freedom to be truth tellers granted to us through Christ. Then, when we share the peace of Christ with others we affirm our desire to walk in the light, to be children of the light, and to be the light for others.

Finally, we become truth tellers when we tell others the truth. We need safe spaces to speak openly with a spouse or friend or counselor or pastor about our desires, our doubts, our fears, our justifications.  We need safe spaces to be vulnerable, honest, real. We need each other. We need the body of Christ.

When the prophet told Naaman to go and wash in the Jordan seven times, Naaman went away angry. It took his servant saying to him, “If the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it? How much more, when all he said to you was, ‘Wash, and be clean’?”

Friends, we cannot undo ingrained patterns of behavior over night, but with God all things are possible. Like Naaman, we need to acknowledge our disease and desire healing. And then, like Naaman, we need to go on a journey – seeking out the Great Healer. Our journeys may be easy or they may be hard – we might initially go the wrong direction, as Naaman did. Ultimately, our journeys will humble us. And when we finally reach the foot of the cross – when we kneel before our Lord and cry for mercy – we need to believe and embrace the simple truth: “You are forgiven!” We have been washed in the blood. We have been made clean. We are beloved children of God. We are not alone. In the name of Jesus Christ, we are forgiven.

The World In Which I Live

Consumerism, affluenza, greed...

Anger, grudges, fear...

Selfishness, loneliness, barrenness...

Hunger, thirst, longing...

Pain; deep, searing pain...

The truth is that this is the world in which I live.

In this world husbands cheat on their wives.

In this world children are sexually abused.

In this world mothers lose their babies.

In this world loved ones die of cancer.

In this world friends are addicted.

Suffering is all too real.

It is easy to get trapped

in the nets of this world.

It is easy to get lost

            in the darkness.

There must be more to this world...

Lord, please let there be more to this world!

If this is all there is to this world

            I surely will die.

Jesus Christ came into this world:

Jesus, the Light of the World.

Jesus, the son of Mary.

Jesus, the Redeemer.

The truth is that Jesus changed everything about this world.

The blind can see, the deaf can hear,

the lame can leap for joy.

The lost are found, the hungry are fed,

            the imprisoned are set free.

This is also the world in which I live –

            a world full of life!

And I get to choose...

            the darkness or

                        the light,

            death, or

                        life.

I choose the light.

I choose life.

I choose Jesus Christ.

In this world the woman caught in the act of adultery

            is set free.

                        “Go, and sin no more.”

In this world the thief on the cross next to Jesus

            is set free.

                        “Today you will be with me in paradise.”

In this world, broken people stumble their way

            to the foot of the cross

and experience forgiveness.

In this world, hungry people find their way

            to the Lord’s Table

                        and experience mercy.

In this world, lonely people find their way

            to the community of faith

                        and experience communion.

In this world, people from all walks of life

            find their way to Jesus

and experience grace.

You ask about the world in which I live?

            I live in the world of light.

            I live with the Good News of Jesus.

            I live as part of the body of Christ.

I love this world –

this world that is overwhelmed with suffering,

this world that is drenched in love,

            this world that is overcome through compassion.

You ask about the world in which I live –

I live in this world

            in all it’s beauty and brokenness.

I live in this world

            full of saints and sinners.

And I wouldn’t trade the gift of this world – God’s world –

            for anything.

Weeds

I’ve often wondered who had the brilliant idea of putting in a slate walkway to the parsonage. While it is attractive, it requires constant maintenance. This is because the most fertile soil in all of Alamance County is found in the cracks between the slates, and the weeds spring up overnight. Seriously!

Recently I have found myself thanking God for the person who had the brilliant idea of putting in a slate walkway to the parsonage. Clearly that person understood stress and the need for activities that provide stress relief. That walkway is a gift from God!

When I find myself in the midst of a stressful phone conversation, I step outside and do some weeding while I talk. As I pull and tug at the weeds that seem to have a tenacious hold on the walkway, I find I am able to relax, push beyond the stressor, and get to the root of the matter. Difficult phone conversations are always better when I’m pulling weeds.

When I find myself wrestling with a challenging passage of scripture, I take a break and sit in the middle of the walkway digging my nails into the beautiful black soil that holds these weeds, prying the weeds out one at a time. And somehow God speaks as my nails get dirty and the walkway gets clean. And the scripture once again becomes holy.

Today at high noon in the 90-degree heat I found myself sitting on the hot slate pulling the weeds and then carefully putting the dirt that clung to the roots back into the cracks. Only minutes before, the incredible stress of ministry had me pulling my hair out. And then I remembered the weeds. It is always better to pull weeds.  It was too hot to be out there for long, but those few minutes in the blazing heat gave me some much needed perspective.

Much like weeds, stress is inevitable. Especially in fertile soil. God has created these perfect conditions for growth – rich soil, warm sunshine, plenty of rain. Of course the weeds are going to grow! But these conditions are also ideal for growing the things that are of God. A food ministry that is flourishing. A day care that will soon be filled with noisy, wonderful children. A church overflowing with incredible and faithful people. And with each weed pulled the stress melts away. And the beauty of this ministry is boldly revealed. And I thank God for the person who had the brilliant idea of putting in a slate walkway to the parsonage.

Good Is Good Enough

I am not a perfectionist. But I do like to see a job well done. Recently, in an email exchange with a friend I was reminded, “Don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good.” Of course this led me to wonder if I was actually trying to be a perfectionist, or if I was just trying to be a good steward of my resources. I can certainly understand, by the intensity of my email, that I was pushing to get it right. The truth is, my goal wasn’t perfection. What I wanted was for my decisions to be thoughtful and faithful. I wanted to make good decisions.

I love the proverb: “Don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good.” Striving for perfection can actually hijack a project. Trying to get every detail just right can prove to be impossible, and a great project can fall apart before it ever gets started. But more importantly “good” is actually a good goal, theologically speaking. In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, each day of creation concluded with “And God saw that it was good.” Not perfect. Good. And better than good in God’s eyes is “very good.”

So often we strive for great or wonderful or perfect instead of good. There’s this sense that “good” isn’t good enough. But there’s something about goodness – somehow it speaks of beauty and simplicity and harmony and integrity. Goodness isn’t about competition or hierarchies. Goodness isn’t about perfection. Goodness is somehow tied to faithfulness. And goodness, not greatness or perfection, is a fruit of the Spirit (see Galatians 5:22, NIV). Clearly, “good” is pleasing to God.

Interestingly, on the day before this email exchange I heard Greg Jones speak at Duke Divinity School on Resurrecting Excellence.  As he spoke of leading the church in the 21^st century, he made the comment, “Beware of mediocrity masquerading as faithfulness.”  Another proverb. I think we fall into this trap too often – often unawares.  Consider those times when we claim we are being good stewards of our resources and thus we are being faithful, when in fact we are afraid of taking a risk or we are afraid of failing. We claim that what we are doing is good, when the truth is that we don’t want to step on toes, offend anyone, or move out of our own comfort zones. At those times we settle – yes, settle! – for the status quo rather than pushing for that which is truly good. We settle for mediocrity and call it faithfulness. When in fact it is neither faithful nor good.

Perfection is often impossible. Mediocrity is often too easy. Yet just like the three bears and their porridge, there’s that third option that is just right: goodness.  Don’t let the perfect be the enemy of the good. Beware of mediocrity masquerading as faithfulness. And from the book of Proverbs: “Those who plan good find loyalty and faithfulness” (14:22b). So why don't we strive to do good?