Jesus is still the message; Grace is still the means; and Grace Turned Outward is still the ministry to the world. Drop everything else and pick this up. This is what it is all about.
For we are to God the pleasing aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. 2 Corinthians 2:15
You are the living temple of God
Walking around this earth. – John Fischer from the song, “Don’t Veil the Door”
The bulk of the ministry happening through your life today happens merely by you being in the world. It does not require any particular effort from you. It merely is because of what you are. And what are you? You are a pleasing aroma of Christ to God.
The Old Testament stories of biblical heroes are full of fallible people with questionable behavior. With the exception of maybe one or two like Joseph, men and women of faith in the Old Testament struggle and sin and fight and fail and God somehow weaves their story of faith into their lives to where His will was done and lessons are learned. The New Testament, especially the writings of Paul, present more of a balanced view with fewer examples of human weaknesses. That’s why this passage in 2 Corinthians where Paul reveals an inner struggle with his ability to believe God amidst human limitations is a rare opportunity to discover faith amidst doubt.
Before we begin to look more deeply into this New Covenant passage in 2 Corinthians, we need to get one very important thing clear. It isn’t actually stated until further on into the passage although it is implied all along. Until you hear it clearly, you may miss it, because, as we said earlier, this perspective is contrary to our normal way of thinking. What I am referring to is found in the first verse of Chapter 4: “Therefore, since through God’s mercy we have this ministry, we do not lose heart.” The key phrase being “this ministry.”
This week we will take a trip through a passage in 2 Corinthians that we have long held is the least known, most necessary passage in all of scripture for living the daily Christian life. And if it is the least known but most necessary, that would mean a lot of people are living a sort of truncated experience of the Christian life — ourselves included, when we forget, which is often.
by Marti Fischer
We are a people who love knowledge. We study the Word, support causes, fund ministries. But there’s a growing disconnect between what we know and what we do. We’ve mistaken justice for charity. We’ve settled for awareness when the gospel calls us to action.
But Scripture is clear: justice is not an extra—it’s a command. A defining mark of those who truly follow God.
“Learn to do right; seek justice.
Defend the oppressed.
Take up the cause of the fatherless;
Plead the case of the widow.”
— Isaiah 1:17
Last night, Chandler let me know at about eight o’clock that he wanted to go see Star Wars: Episode III – Revenge of the Sith.
“Tonight?” I asked, checking my watch. “It’s too late. Why not this weekend?”
“Today is the last day,” he announced. The Star Wars movie that many say was the best of the series was celebrating its 20-year anniversary with a one-week run in the theaters that ended last night. This would be our only chance to see it on the big screen, and I had a chance to do something fun with my son. So we went for the late show, even though it meant getting to bed around 3 in the morning. It was well worth it.
I’m in a local Starbucks. A man just outside is playing “Fairest Lord Jesus” followed by “There is a Fountain Filled with Blood” on a flute, the couple next to me is smooching and making loud smacking noises with their lips, the espresso machine is shooting out steaming milk and the Grateful Dead is swearing, over and over again in the background, that they will get by. Fine for them. I’m not sure I will. This place that has long been my office away from home is starting to give me a headache. Meanwhile, three mothers come in with their babies in buggies fit for a road trip — all three talking at once as if they were trying to be heard across the Grand Canyon. I’m not sure I can work here anymore.
by Marti Fischer
Do we really have a good excuse for just staying on the sidelines and watching? Do we really need to fear the approaching emotional manipulation with its appeal for what we should be doing? But Marti, how do I get involved with making right what has gone so horribly wrong, and who do I pull in to help fulfill the need?
As to that first question, we no longer have an excuse to be bystanders. If we want to be where God is, we must feed the poor, lift the oppressed, and care deeply.
Marti wanted me to share this song with you today. It’s from one of the most prolific and least known writers of early Jesus Music, Terry Scott Taylor (“Shotgun Angel,” “Fall in Your Father’s Arms” from Daniel Amos, his first group). Lines like “Hide the beer the pastor’s here” in their early songs didn’t exactly endear these guys to the established church. Terry has always been somewhat of a renegade who you could never fit within the confines of the mainstream. He writes what he has to write; it doesn’t matter whether it fits somewhere or not. He’s always been a little like Mark Heard — too dirty for the saints and too clean for the sinners.
John Fischer The Catch 