On the Anvil - Max Lucado [5]
And your heart will be flamed by my life and my breath.”
I stuck my hands in my pockets and kicked at the dirt.
It’s tough to be corrected (I guess my feelings were hurt).
But it was worth the struggle to realize the thought
That the Cross isn’t for sale and Christ’s blood can’t be bought.
What are you offering to Jesus? What gift does Jesus ask of you?
How do you truly embrace the sacrifice Jesus made?
8: Who Is Righteous?
Question: O Lord, who shall live in your tent?
Answer: He who does what is right. (Psalm 15:1-2, paraphrased)
Have you ever noticed how many people want to be right before God?
Rich people,
Religious people,
Nature people,
City people.
All kinds of people want to be right.
Some people get educated:
They learn all the funny little Greek symbols,
they learn all about theology,
they learn all about manuscripts, papyri, Dead Sea Scrolls,
and so on and on. . . .
They are righteous, they say . . . and they huddle together and sneer at those who are not.
Some people get mission-minded:
They learn new languages,
they teach untaught people,
they take pictures of converts and speak at conferences.
They are righteous, they say . . . and they all huddle together and sneer at those who are not.
Some people get vocational:
They get a job,
they pay their own way,
they rub elbows with the “real world,”
they are drops of leaven in a swelling society.
They are righteous, they say . . . and they all huddle together and sneer at those who are not.
You know, I think that sometimes God looks down at this dusty footstool and sees
the righteous theological huddle,
the righteous missionary huddle,
the righteous vocational huddle
. . . and I think he sighs.
What is righteousness? Who is righteous?
Are you a “righteous huddler”? How can you break out of the huddle?
What is your attitude toward others? What should it be?
9: Hope for Leo?
Let me introduce you to Leo.
I used to eat breakfast at a Cuban restaurant near my house. It was a brief, brisk walk and a good opportunity to think out my plans for the day. My thoughts were interrupted one morning, however, by a spry, unabashed old gent sporting a golf cap and dirty work pants. (He didn’t look his sixty-six years.)
“You a student, son?” (I guess he saw my Bible and notebook.) “I’ve got some college textbooks for sale.” I followed him into an empty house cluttered with lamps, books, end tables—all for sale. He was moving, he explained, “I need to get rid of this stuff.” One topic led to another. Soon we were sitting and talking, Leo with his questions about the pope, the Bible, and “souls”; and me with my questions about Leo.
His history was colorful: “a depression kid”; sold franks at Yankee Stadium and programs at Madison Square Garden; a taxi driver in Miami. Yet although his life was full of experience, his face was void of joy. He spoke of how “You can’t trust nobody no more. It’s a hard world.” When I tried to leave, he insisted that I stay. He was hungry for conversation. His fifth and last child had just left home. He said nothing about his marriage, though family portraits covered the wall. “I want to move . . . somewhere,” he mumbled. Leo was in that era of life when all you have to look forward to is death and all you have to look back on is memories. To Leo, life was very real. To Leo, life was very empty.
Maybe it was unfair that I asked such a painful question, but I asked it anyway: “If you could live life all over again, would you?”
He looked at me and then at the floor. “No,” he said sadly. “I don’t think so.”
It’s hard to be without light in a dark world.
Do you ever feel that you are without that kind of light—even in your walk with Christ? Does life seem empty to you?
Do you experience the hope of Jesus?
How can you live in the peace and hope of Christ—and how can you share it with others?
10: Judas, the Man Who Never Knew
I’ve wondered at times what kind of man this Judas was. What he looked like, how he acted, who his friends were.
I guess I’ve stereotyped him. I’ve always