Wednesday was particularly autumn-like in these parts. The weather was chilly and damp and Londonesque, and the most resilient among the colorful leaves yet unfallen seemed to be hanging on for dear life. I stopped by the grocery store on my way to mid-week supper at church, and noticed upon approaching the market a gentleman who seemed nearly oblivious to the world around him.

The man was dancing. I mean really dancing, right there on the sidewalk. The boombox-delivered tunes were lively, and evoked happy memories of days gone by. (That would have been the most likely reaction of anyone 40 and up.) The songs that you hear on the car radio that instantly transport you to a simpler time.

At first most of the shoppers and passersby seemed outwardly unmoved by the gentleman’s unusual behavior. Maybe they’d seen him before. Then, as if on cue, these strikingly gut-level and ear-to-ear grins would erupt — as if drawn out of a well where they couldn’t be contained.

It was obvious that this man was there to dance, regardless of human reaction or response. He was apparently not offended by my snapping a picture, though I apologize for the fuzziness of this photo. There simply was no lull in the action so that I could get a better one.

I’d love to know the guy’s story. Maybe he’s between jobs. A former entertainer of some sort perhaps. Or just a victim of the economy whose creativity couldn’t be snuffed out. At the very least, the street dancer is an industrious chap willing to expend a boatload of energy for only an occasional tip.

Now I’m not advocating that we all take to the streets of Paducah where we’ll bust a move for a living. But I do think there’s much to be learned from our uninhibited neighbor at the grocery store. I’ll suggest just three such lessons, seeking forgiveness in advance from anyone who wants me to be deeply theological all of the time.

1. Life’s too short to be overly concerned about what everybody thinks.

2. If it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing with passion.

3. A song and a smile go a long way, and may in fact start an epidemic.

If you are in Christ, your right standing with God is eternally secure. It’s based on Christ’s righteousness, which you have received by faith, and which has been fully credited to you. You are forgiven, clean, and whole. You’re a totally new creation (Second Corinthians 5:17) by God’s grace through the cross where His Son died in your place.

Were we to live our lives with a view of the gospel of Jesus always before the eyes of our hearts, we would be free indeed. We would continually celebrate our own resurrection life in the Christ whom the grave could not defeat. And even on rainy days, we would sing and dance for an audience of one: our Savior, Lord, and King.

Gifted, Session 9 (Recorded live in the Great Room on October 16, 2013).

Click here to listen or download: 2013.10.16.GiftedMidweekSeries.Session9.CharlesMoore

Gifted, Session 10 (Recorded live in the Great Room on October 23, 2013).

Click here to listen or download: 2013.10.23.GiftedMidweekSeries.Session10.CharlesMoore

Gifted, Session 11 (Recorded live in the Great Room on November 6, 2013).

Click here to listen or download: 2013.11.06.GiftedMidweekSeries.Session11.CharlesMoore

Jesus was baptized. Captivating. Matthew 3:13-17 is where I find myself today. Mark and Luke record the event as well.

The Jews were accustomed to a regular purification ritual. It came from the Torah and involved washing with water, and was called “mikveh.” And it’s clear that Jesus purposefully selected John to do this. “John the Baptist” was immersing people in the waters of the Jordan River because there was enough water there to do that.

Most of us equate Christ’s baptism with God the Father’s undeniable validation of His Son’s ministry, and indeed it was. But that’s just one dimension of this amazing account. Therein lies the intrigue.

John was conducting “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” (Mark 1:4). Why would the sinless, perfect, spotless, blameless Son of God need to participate in something designed for sinners? Christ had no sin. He knew no sin.

Though John was reluctant to do it, Jesus made it clear that it had to be done: “to fulfill all righteousness.”

What did Jesus mean by that, in light of the fact the He lacked no righteousness?

This is our Lord’s first public identification with people like you and me. Show me a religion where God lowers Himself in order to save, and I’ll say: “You must be reading the Bible!”

Jesus is choosing to identify with us. I want you to remember that this week when you’re tempted to believe that you’re all alone. That nobody understands. That nobody cares.

There is One who cares supremely about even our deepest needs.

In Matthew 3, Jesus is preparing to serve as our perfect substitute. He is entering into the order of Melchizedek so that He can serve as our High Priest and our sacrifice for sin. So He chooses to fulfill certain legal requirements. Every legal requirement, to be exact.

Christ is preparing to remove from us the well-deserved wrath of Almighty God.

He will die for us.

But that’s only the beginning.

Jesus will also positively procure our righteousness. That’s why He insists that John baptize Him.

Christ not only took away our sin by dying for us on the cross, but He earned for us a perfect righteousness – so that we could be positioned as if: a) we never sinned; and b) we always perfectly obeyed, every one of God’s requirements.

Christ died for us.

Christ lived for us too.

Second Corinthians 5:21.  For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.

What a Savior!

You are not alone. Far from it. You are loved with love so strong that not even sin and death can stop it.

Do you matter? Does God know who you are, and where you live? Does your life count? Are you important in the grand scheme of things?

Are the things that happen to you random? Is there any rhyme or reason in the universe, especially as it relates to the things that affect you?

Is human history marching toward any kind of goal?

The last verses of the Book of Ruth capture my attention this morning (4:13-22). Another one of those sections of Scripture that we’re tempted to rush through because we’re looking for something more exciting.

Look no further.

Talk about life turning on a dime! God simply put Ruth in the right field, with the right farmer. That’s all it took. Ruth the Moabitess has been transformed from “foreigner” (2:10) to “not (even) one of your servants” (2:13) to “servant” (3:9) to “wife” (4:13) – all in a short period of time. All because she met that one farmer, the kinsman-redeemer Boaz.

Now Ruth and Boaz are happily married, and Ruth gives birth to a baby boy.

I love Verse 17. And the women of the neighborhood gave him a name, saying, “A son has been born to Naomi.” They named him Obed. He was the father of Jesse, the father of David.

In case you’re unfamiliar with the story, Naomi is the new baby’s grandmother. She was Ruth’s mother-in-law.

As far as I know, this is the only time in the Old Testament where folks other than a child’s immediate family members are present for the child’s “naming day.” It’s really a community-wide celebration.

This baby is Grandma Naomi’s “son” in the sense that he will restore the family name of Naomi’s deceased son, Mahlon.

Now when we come to a genealogy like this, we’re tempted to skip over it. But don’t do that. This particular genealogy from Boaz and Ruth to David appears in four other Bible passages. It must be significant.

Not only will Obed’s life signify the restoration of lots of dreams that had died way back in Moab, but Ruth’s great-grandson will be King David. Yep, the King David.

God fulfilled the greatest hope of His people through the lineage of David’s grandfather, who was born to Ruth the foreigner. When the New Testament later opens, it starts with “the genealogy of Jesus Christ, the Son of David.” Jesus was the Kinsman-Redeemer, you know. The Light of the nations. Lord of all.

Meanwhile back in Ruth, there’s another genealogy spanning nine centuries and ten generations. Since King David’s family tree reaches back to Perez, we can conclusively establish that David’s lineage extends back through Judah (Genesis 49), Jacob (Genesis 28), and Isaac (Genesis 26) all the way to Abraham (Genesis 12). Absolutely amazing!

The next time someone tells you that the Bible is a hotchpot of random unreliable stories, tell them you know better.

The person you meet today may be the person whom God determined, before the foundation of the world, to change your life. Or maybe you’re meant to change theirs. Or both.

The Bible is one story of one God, and one people whom the one God has called out for His glory. You and I are called to be part of that cosmic, wonderful, and unstoppable plan.

Coincidence? Not a chance.

God is raising up a people from every nation, tribe, people, and language. Lord, I want to be in that number.

Dr. Seuss’s first book didn’t go so well. It was rejected by 27 publishers. Michael Jordan was cut from his high school basketball team. Walt Disney was fired. A local newspaper decided that he lacked creativity. This photo shows 10-year-old Disney (center right) at a gathering of Kansas City newsboys in 1912.

The film school at UCLA didn’t accept Steven Spielberg as a student. Abraham Lincoln failed miserably at politics, at least at first.

You get the point. The first word is not always the last word.

Thankfully, that simple truth is magnified in the Christian life. “It’s Friday, but Sunday’s comin’!”

We will pass through, and even under, our share of clouds and dark spots along the way … but the long-range forecast is San Diego sunny.

Romans 15:13 is a marvelous word of blessing from God’s Word: May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope!

The entrance of Jesus of Nazareth into the world brought joy (Luke 2:10) and peace (Luke 1:76-79), but also a real hope for all who call upon Christ’s name by faith. Joy and peace are the credentials of our heavenly citizenship, and hope is somehow connected to both. In the verse from Romans that we’re considering today, Paul mentions all three.

If you really want to know what difference it makes to be saved, think about your life without joy, peace, or hope. That’s a Friday without a Sunday.

Our hope comes from the Lord (Psalm 39:7), and specifically from knowing and trusting Christ (Romans 15:12; Ephesians 2:12). We understand that, factually, but it’s good to remind ourselves that we can’t create hope or produce hope on our own – since we’re generally so accustomed to thinking that we have to work hard to get what we need or want. Hope is a free gift, in a sense, because it stems from our grace-relationship with Jesus. Hope simply can’t be manufactured, no matter how hard we may try.

But exactly what are we longing for, when we long for “hope” to abound?

Hope is a confidence in the unwavering goodness of God (Proverbs 13:12). Notice in our initial verse that Paul did not simply mention “peace,” but he mentioned “peace in believing.” There is an element of faith that is connected to joy, peace, and hope.

It’s difficult to think about faith without thinking about our need to wait on the Lord, so we might want to consider that the hope we’re looking for might not be ours with lightning speed – but may in fact be the result of a growing love relationship with our Savior over a period of time (Romans 8:23-25). With a season or two of trials thrown in for that well-rounded Christian character that the Spirit is producing in us.

The English Baptist pastor John Gill (1697-1771) wrote of the kind of hope that only God can give. He taught that hope is produced in the human heart by the Holy Spirit. That the object of real hope is God – not any of the creature comforts that we might think we need in order to be hopeful.

Pastor Gill believed, and so do I, that hope is gospel-centered and gospel-saturated. As we grow in the knowledge of Christ’s love for us, and in awareness of His incessant faithfulness on our behalf, we become more and more hopeful – no matter what’s going on in the world or in our lives. Gill believed that trials enhance hope. I think he was right. Maybe not a particularly fun thought, but a great one nonetheless.

We never outgrow our need for hope. The good news is that Christ never stops providing it.

So go ahead and write that book that you’ve been meaning to write. Even if it “fails,” you didn’t. Because you’re standing on a Book that tells you who – and whose – you really are.

One of the great privileges of serving as a pastor is that I get to recruit. Not exactly like a coach recruits, but similar in many ways. Similar in the sense that one of my goals is to get you excited about life at First Baptist Church. More than that, I want to get you excited about living the Christian life! We’ve got the best thing going that’s going.

I think about Paul and his love for the Philippian church. He founded the church by simply preaching the gospel of our Lord Jesus in the city of Philippi in Greece. When the apostle penned 1:3-11 – where my heart is drawn today – he was incarcerated in Rome (some kind of house arrest, I suppose), waiting to be tried before Caesar. Paul couldn’t visit the church, but he could receive reports on their progress, write letters to encourage them, and pray for them. He loved the people who were the church.

People still are the church.

During what many call his “second missionary journey,” the Apostle Paul and his colleagues had been divinely directed to “come over to Macedonia and help us” (Acts 16:9). Paul and the others traveled to Philippi, where they proclaimed the gospel to Lydia, the Philippian jailor, and others. God blessed with saving faith – and a church was born. So the relationships between Paul and the Philippians were especially close.

When you think about Paul writing to the Corinthians or to the Galatians, he comes across like a watchdog! But with these Philippians he seems more like a lap dog. I’m glad the Bible lets us see this side of Paul. It’s important.

When Philippians was written, some 10-12 years had passed. But Paul’s love for the Philippian church had not waned at all. As a matter of fact, Paul said that he thanked the Lord every time he thought about them.

Are you grateful to have a church family? I mean truly grateful. Our relationships with our fellow recruits ought to be precious to us. We have a “partnership” in the gospel (3:5). That word “partnership” – maybe your English translation renders it “participation” – is the Greek word “koinonia.” It refers to intimate Christian fellowship. Beyond small talk and on to what matters most to us: sharing our rubber-meets-the-road real life, in Jesus Christ, with each another.

Notice that Paul found great joy in this thought, and in this reality. Do we?

I just received a handwritten note from a young man in our church named Mason. He thanked me for “sermons very detailed and informative” and for being “very inspiring.” I’m more honored by that communication from a 13-year-old than I would be honored by correspondence from a company president. As a matter of fact, someone needs to come into the office and scrape me off the ceiling! I’ll be able to live on the energy from Mason’s letter for at least a few weeks.

You know why?

Because Mason and I have a partnership in the gospel. And that’s what it’s all about.

Paul could have been super depressed, and we could not have blamed him. But he was not bummed out at all, because his friends were standing with him – even though he was on death row. That was a real partnership, because standing up for an unpopular person was risky business in those days. (I’m not sure it’s any easier now.)

You may have heard that love is blind. Not true. Real love charges in with its eyes wide open.

How did Paul know that he was writing to truly regenerate (saved) people? Because he saw their lives being changed – really changed – by Jesus Christ. And because he was certain that they belonged to Christ, Paul made a certain promise to them: God would finish in them the work that He began (3:6). And when God does the job, the end results are perfect. Hard to believe for the Philippians – or for any other church – but true nonetheless.

Paul was saying something like this: “What joins us together in genuine fellowship is gospel participation. We’re not in this by our own design, but by the common life in Jesus that we share.”

So Paul prayed for more and more fruit. For more and more love. “Righteousness that comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God.”

It just doesn’t get any better than that, pardner.

“For the beauty of the earth

For the glory of the skies,

For the love which from our birth

Over and around us lies.

For the joy of human love,

Brother, sister, parent, child,

Friends on earth and friends above,

For all gentle thoughts and mild.

For each perfect gift of Thine,

To our race so freely given,

Graces human and divine,

Flowers on earth and buds in Heaven.

Lord of all, to Thee we raise,

This our hymn of grateful praise!”

Folliot S. Pierpoint penned those words in 1864. Though I didn’t include every stanza, they’re the lyrics of a song that I always associate with the season of Thanksgiving. I learned them as a child and they’re still with me, as is so often the case when tunes grip our young, impressionable minds.

I’ve been thinking deeply about those “perfect gifts” endowed to us by the Lord as I’ve been preparing the “Gifted” series. But the hymn lyrics express gratitude for more than just those special abilities that we generally refer to as “spiritual gifts.” Pierpoint praises God for, among other things, the gift of human relationships.

I thank God for the friends that He has given me. With these friends I share the joys and sorrows of life. By these friends I’m held accountable. To these friends I owe a debt of gratitude for their faithful perseverance in prayer and love.

I’m particularly grateful that my West Coast friends have stayed in touch since our eastward relocation. I had feared that distance would blur the affection, but that has not been the case. To all of our CCCLH and Growth Group buddies reading the blog, Eileen and I want you to know that you’re still close to our hearts.

Precious friends hosted me for a 36-hour SoCal wedding trip last month, while others came here last weekend to meet our Kentucky church family. FBC, you were described by our California friends as “the most loving church we’ve ever visited.”

It was so much fun to show off Western Kentucky. We hiked, picked pumpkins, explored the lakes, and ate hot browns. You should have seen the faces of our friends from “the O.C.” as I drove them well beyond Paducah civilization (and even G.P.S. range) to a pumpkin patch in the middle of nowhere. It wasn’t the end of the world, but you could see it from there.

Our family of friends — both old and new, there and here — felt like one family. Just as it should be. “Flowers on earth,” but a foretaste of heaven indeed.

This morning I’m getting ready for Christmas. “What’s up with that?” you may be thinking. I wouldn’t blame you – it’s a bit early. But what I mean is that I’m thinking ahead about what might bless our church family this year in terms of pondering and celebrating the Incarnation of Christ. I want it to be special in every way.

I’m drawn to a passage in Galatians that straddles Chapters 3 and 4. It’s the part where Paul talks about Christians as “sons of God” and “Abraham’s offspring” and “heirs according to promise” and “adopted” into God’s family. Amazing truths! Maybe our holiday focus will center on those things this year. We’ll have to wait and see what the Lord has in mind about all of that, but I think it’s right to start getting excited about Christmas now.

After all, we live in a world where sin has robbed people of so many good things. Christmas is like a breaking news bulletin: “It won’t be that way forever! Good will prevail! God will triumph!”

Kind of makes you want to start decking those halls, doesn’t it?

“But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth His Son …”

Sin has met its match, because what God promised Abraham will be fully realized. The Law could only show us our need for a Savior. The Christmas news bulletin is: He’s here!

If you and I are in Christ, then we’re those adopted sons and daughters. I think it’s high time that we did a little growing up into who we really are. Sound like a plan?

Here might be a few places we could start:

1. Let’s learn to truly learn to love God as a Father.

Your relationship with your dad wasn’t perfect? That’s O.K., friend. Honor your dad for who he is, or was. You now have a Heavenly Father who is perfect in every way. Who also, by the way, loves you with a perfect love.

2. Let’s learn to truly love others as we have been loved.

“Neither Jew nor Greek.” Hmmm. I suppose that rules out my not liking those weirdoes who prefer that other kind of church music.

3. Let’s learn to truly walk in freedom from religion.

Now you know that I’m a huge proponent of freedom of religion, but that’s another topic. Right now I’m talking about your need and mine to be free from manmade rules and regulations that choke that life out of our joy in Jesus. “No longer a slave, but a son.” Cool.

4. Let’s learn to truly walk in healthy and life-giving Christ-esteem.

If you have children or grandchildren in school, it’s very likely that their educators are sold out on the power of self-esteem. There’s nothing wrong with a proper view of self, but it’s way overrated. You know that the Bible offers much, much more: a sound and true understanding of who we are in the Lord Jesus Christ! (Stay tuned. I feel sermons bubbling up right and left.)

That’s all for now. I’m off to find some mistletoe.

I just received a distressing call from a pastor friend of mine in another part of the country. A member of the church there who “has it all” — health, money, privilege, and opportunity — has decided to trade in his believing wife for an illicit affair. Now there is the pain and reality of church discipline. Another severed family, as well as a wounded church family, lie in the wake of this man’s series of devastatingly selfish choices.

It doesn’t take long for any of us to shipwreck our lives, as well as the lives of those closest to us. Not long at all.

Are you living wisely today?

The writer to the Hebrews sounded the warning like this (2:1): “We must pay much closer attention to what we have heard, lest we drift away from it.”

The Greek “drift away” carries with it the idea of slipping — like a ring slipping off your finger in soapy water. Implicit is the notion of going in the wrong direction.

The Greek “pay much closer attention” is a nautical term, and communicates a sea captain’s obligation to wisely and skillfully navigate a ship to safety. If you think about a “ship” in the days when the New Testament was written, you’re not imagining a ski boat that can be easily “shifted into reverse” when the water gets too shallow — but a vessel that must be guided so carefully that it is always steered clear of any place that might mean disaster.

Sin is like the iceberg that sank the Titanic. What lies above the surface may appear harmless and in fact beautiful, but what lies beneath can tear out your guts.

In thinking through my seafaring theme, I’m propelled toward the more recent Costa Concordia disaster. Another deadly voyage that nobody thought could happen.

It took expert teams almost two years, and millions of dollars, to hoist that Italian cruiseliner back to its upright position — though it hadn’t even gone all the way under. My point is that it’s much easier to avoid a shipwreck than to fix one. “Minor shipwreck” makes about as much sense as “barely pregnant.”

You and I must keep our eyes on the Lord Jesus Christ. The same gospel that saves also sanctifies. When you and I are marveling over the finished work of Christ for us, that’s the best posture for protection against the worst decisions we could ever make. Only Christ can “deliver us from evil.”

And keeping our eyes on Jesus is proof positive of His persevering grace in us. All the truly redeemed will sail safely home.

Greetings from the Great Smoky Mountains! Some clean, crisp autumn air and a stroll by a gently meandering stream does a person good, you know. We all need refreshment and a dose of renewed perspective. Josh enjoyed his own teenage diversions with FBC friends who are likewise roaming the foothills of East Tennessee.

It’s not just a refreshed view of God that I need from my r and r, but a no-kidding look at myself too. The former best produces the latter, in my opinion.

Luke 5:27-32 records our Lord’s call of Levi (Matthew). It was one thing for Jesus to touch and bless sinners and unclean persons; it was another for Christ to call one of those fringe dwellers into the ministry. Such was Levi, viewed by most as the traitor par excellence by nature of his vocation as a tax collector for those nasty Romans.

The Bible doesn’t seem to make much of Matthew’s calling except that he “left everything” behind in order to follow Christ, and that Matthew quickly threw quite a shindig in honor of Jesus — complete with a guest list that would curl your hair. As always, Jesus seemed eager to feast and celebrate with sinners of every stripe, which did not go over well with the religious crowd. Remember them? Talk about party poopers.

Within that context, Jesus reminds us of His mission: He comes to heal those who are truly sick. The tone of the text leaves me more than reminded that I better not get too smug in my own spiritual self-assessment. After all, I’m the one who needs a doctor. I’m the sinner in the story.

I am so gut-level thankful that none of those guests at Levi’s party was required to get his (or her) act together before Jesus could show up. Just the opposite in fact: Christ was driven to show up at the party because the guests were an assortment of real-life messes. That’s our Savior. Grace on the scene.

In spite of us, we’ve been eternally loved (Romans 5:8).

For someone, somewhere, soon … would you be that grace?

See you Sunday morning!