How Should My Relationship
With My Church Affect Me?
Ephesus 4:1-3
1 I, therefore, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you to walk worthy of the calling with which you were called, 2 with all lowliness and gentleness, with longsuffering, bearing with one another in love, 3 endeavouring to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.
I believe the greatest need of the new millennium is not economic, not social, not political. The greatest need of our generation is for the church to be the church of the first century.
The church is misunderstood by many people. They have saw a service on TV or heard about one and said the church is irrelevant for my life. We have miss communicated the Church’s importance in the lives of people.
ILL: A lot like this one man’s story about...
Several years ago, I returned home from a trip just when a storm hit, with crashing thunder and severe lightning. As I came into my bedroom about 2 a.m., I found my two children in bed with my wife, Karen, apparently scared by the loud storm. I resigned myself to sleep in the guest bedroom that night.
The next day, I talked to the children, and explained that it was OK. to sleep with Mom when the storm was bad, but when I was expected home, please don’t sleep with Mom that night. They said OK. After my next trip several weeks later, Karen and the children picked me up in the
terminal at the appointed time. Since the plane was late, everyone had come into the terminal to wait for my plane’s arrival, along with hundreds of other folks waiting for their arriving passengers. As I entered the waiting area, my son saw me, and came running shouting, “Hi, Dad! I’ve got some good news!”
As I waved back, I said loudly, “What’s the good news?” “Nobody slept with Mommy while you were away this time!” Alex shouted. The airport became very quiet, as everyone in the waiting area looked at Alex, then turned to me, and then searched the rest of the area to see if they could figure out exactly who his Mom was.
Read Ephesus 4:1-3
Prisoner of (in) Jesus. It was for the cause of Christ, Paul went through various events. It was with healthy pride he would declare his captivity.
A few years ago, back in 1990, USA was involved in what was known as the Persian Gulf War. Troops took on the Iraqi forces out in the desert of Kuwait. In those two months, January and February, USA won an outstanding victory, and had relatively few casualties.
One of the interesting things about that war was the majority of our troops weren’t injured or killed by the enemy. They were the victims of what is called “friendly fire,” from artillery.
Friendly fire is where you are hit by ammunition by your own troops. In other words, it’s where your own soldiers become your worst enemy. You can’t prepare for it, and you never see it coming.
Right now in the church today, our biggest enemies aren’t from outside, they’re from within. The weapons that are used aren’t rifles and missiles. It’s our own words and attitudes. A lot of fellow church members are seriously wounded because the results of friendly fire. Nonbelievers avoid some of our churches because they know they’ll be landing in the middle of a war zone.
How many of our church folk become victims of friendly fire? How many times have you been a victim of friendly fire? More important, how many times have you attacked a fellow brother or sister with friendly fire?
It’s a sad day when Christians of the church of Jesus Christ become victims of each other because of gossip and ridicule. Hard to prepare for, and you never see it coming.
We speak about each other with mistrust, how will we get a community to trust us? (Called LIFESONG - lost 7 pastors, endtimes
(Two people came in this week - Quit, endtimes)
Paul is calling the people of God to be the people of God!
If my church is healthy and I am healthy in the church, it will affect three key areas of my life:
1. My Walk
It’s Practical
-It is working out through my walk.
-I don’t know what will happen today but I know I am to walk to the glory of God.
It brings value
-no calling higher for a human.
This truth transforms our actions:
Could a man who raped slaves, mocked the gospel, and tried to destroy the faith of others, ever hope to know God, let alone be used by Him? John Newton was such a man. In his book "Out of the Depths" he shares his testimony of how he raped, beat and sold slaves to the highest bidder but then God touched Him with His grace.
Out of love for God in the years to follow he wrote these words, "Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost, but now am found, was blind, but now I see."
Could someone who had two mental breakdowns and attempted suicide three times ever be used of God? William Cowper was such a man. He was a man who constantly battled depression to the point of suicide, but one day he read John Newton’s story and became convinced that God could reach William Cowper with His grace. And out of sheer joyful expression he later wrote, "There is a foundation filled with blood Drawn from Immanuel’s veins; and sinners, plunged beneath that flood, lose all their guilty stains, lose all their guilty stains, lose all their guilty stains, and sinners, plunged beneath that flood, lose all their guilty stains,"
2. My Heart—undeserved honour always produces these affects upon the person.
Lowliness - view of self in reference to your Lord and His assignment.
Gentleness—means unresisting, uncomplaining disposition of mind which enables us to bear without irritation or resentment the faults or injuries of others.
What causes a critical spirit?
1. Negative ness - A bad attitude and a negative view of life.
2. Insecurity - By putting others down, they are inwardly trying to feel more important or that “they know more.”
3. Immaturity - Criticism becomes a reaction of disappointment, because their expectations in others have been crushed.
4. An Unrenewed Mind - Put-downs, making-fun-of, criticism, sarcasm are the world’s ways of reacting to the faults of people.
5. The evil one - As we may realize, the Devil specializes in influencing people to the negative behaviors.
Longsuffering
-you don’t pay back
-a suppression of anger, taking on the infliction
The very first murder occurs in the family setting.
Most murders of in families.
Reasons for hate build up:
1. I have a right to hate, I was wronged.
2. The offense was too great.
3. They are not truly sorry.
4. They’ll do it again.
5. They did it again.
6. I’ll be a hypocrite if I forgive, because I don’t feel like forgiving.
7. I’ll forgive, but I won’t ever forget.
Bearing one another in love
-These 3 come together to mean bear one another in love.
(If we hit a home run here it affects whole households. Artie baptizes son, Stuart. Carol sharing testimony.)
3. My Focus
Unity (Peace)
With the Spirit
-inner unity
With the people
-outer unity
It is not peace because we are not honest, it is peace because we are honest and gentle:
Court Room: Farmer, Judge, Lawyer.
Insurance Claim: against the farmer by the company because the farmer wanted compensation after he had signed a waive stating that there was nothing wrong with him after the accident.
Judge said, "Did you not say that there was nothing wrong with you?"
Farmer: "Well, it’s was like this..."
Lawyer: Object, just answer the question.
Farmer: "Well, it was like this,..."
Lawyer: I object.
Judge: "Let’s just let him explain.
Farmer: "I got into the accident with my truck and in the back was my prize cow. When this other vehicle came out of no where and hit us. Myself and my cow fell out of my truck on to the side of the road."
"I laid there until the police arrived. One officer went up to my cow and saw that it had injuries. He took out his gun and shot it. Then he walked over to me and said, "How do you feel?"
Everyone has value. (Story)
The world is losing its sense of community. God knew we needed community and designed one by providing a local church. It is not prefect in its expression of love for each other but with your help and my help ad God working through us, we are going bring His church as close as we can to heaven.
Humans have a great capacity for compassion and generosity, though usually we don’t use that capacity often enough. However, Jesus urged us to use that capacity freely especially in His church. As he said, in his Parable of the Sheep and the Goats, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.” [Matthew 25:40]
Story by Doug Showalter illustrates the meaning of family:
Titled: Something for Stevie
I try not to be biased, but I had my doubts about hiring Stevie. His placement counselor assured me that he would be a good, reliable busboy. But I had never had a mentally handicapped employee and wasn’t sure I wanted one.
I wasn’t sure how my customers would react to Stevie. He was short, a little dumpy with the smooth facial features and thick-tongued speech of Down syndrome.
I knew some people would be uncomfortable around Stevie so I closely watched him for the first few weeks. I shouldn’t have worried. After the first week, Stevie had my staff wrapped around his stubby little finger, and within a month my truck regulars had adopted him as their official truck stop mascot. After that, I really didn’t care what the rest of the customers thought of him. He was like a 21-year-old in blue jeans and Nikes, eager to laugh and eager to please, but fierce in his attention to his duties. Every salt and pepper shaker was exactly in its place, not a bread crumb or coffee spill was visible when Stevie got done with the table.
Our only problem was convincing him to wait to clean a table until after the customers were finished. He would hover in the background, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, scanning the dining room until a table was empty. Then he would scurry to the empty table and carefully bus the dishes and glasses onto cart and meticulously wipe the table up with a practiced flourish of his rag. He took pride in doing his job exactly right, and you had to love how hard he tried to please each and every person he met.
Over time, we learned that he lived with his mother, a widow who was disabled after repeated surgeries for cancer. They lived on their Social Security benefits in public housing two miles from the truck stop. Their social worker, who stopped to check on him every so often, admitted they had fallen between the cracks. Money was tight, and what I paid him was the probably the difference between them being able to live together and Stevie being sent to a group home.
That’s why the restaurant was a gloomy place that morning last August, the first morning in three years that Stevie missed work. He was at the Hospital getting a new valve or something put in his heart. His social worker said that people with Down syndrome often had heart problems at a early age so this wasn’t unexpected, and there was a good chance he would come through the surgery in good shape and be back at work in a few months.
A ripple of excitement ran through the staff later that morning when word came that he was out of surgery, in recovery and doing fine. Frannie, my head waitress, let out a war hoop and did a little dance in the aisle when she heard the good news. Dan, one of our regular trucker customers, stared at the sight of the 50-year-old grandmother of four doing a victory shimmy beside his table. Frannie blushed, smoothed her apron and shot Dan a withering look.
He grinned. “OK, Frannie, what was that all about?” he asked. “We just got word that Stevie is out of surgery and going to be okay.” “I was wondering where he was. I had a new joke to tell him. What was the surgery about?” Frannie quickly told Dan and the other two drivers sitting at his booth about Stevie’s surgery, then sighed. “Yeah, I’m glad he is going to be ok,” she said, “but I don’t know how he and his mom are going to handle all the bills. From what I hear, they’re barely getting by as it is.” Dan nodded thoughtfully, and Frannie hurried off to wait on the rest of her tables.
Since I hadn’t had time to round up a busboy to replace Stevie and really didn’t want to replace him, the girls were busing their own tables that day until we decided what to do. After the morning rush, Frannie walked into my office. She had a couple of paper napkins in her hand a funny look on her face. “What’s up?” I asked. “I didn’t get that table where Dan and his friends were sitting cleared off after they left, and Pete and Tony were sitting there when I got back to clean it off,” she said, “This was folded and tucked under a coffee cup.” She handed the napkin to me, and three $20 fell onto my desk when I opened it. On the outside, in big, bold letters, was printed “Something For Stevie.”
“Pete asked me what that was all about,” she said, “so I told him about Stevie and his mom and everything, and Pete looked at Tony and Tony looked at Pete, and they ended up giving me this.” She handed me another paper
napkin that had “Something For Stevie” scrawled on its outside. Two $50 bills were tucked within its folds. Frannie looked at me with wet, shiny eyes, shook her head and said simply “truckers.”
That was three months ago. Today is Thanksgiving, the first day Stevie is supposed to be back to work. His placement worker said he’s been counting the days until the doctor said he could work, and it didn’t matter at all that it was a holiday. He called 10 times in the past week, making sure we knew he was coming, fearful that we had forgotten him or that his job was in jeopardy.
I arranged to have his mother bring him to work, met them in the parking lot and invited them both to celebrate his day back. Stevie was thinner and paler, but couldn’t stop grinning as he pushed through the doors and headed for the back room where his apron and busing cart were waiting.
“Hold up there, Stevie, not so fast,” I said. I took him and his mother by their arms. “Work can wait for a minute. To celebrate you coming back, breakfast for you and your mother is on me.” I led them toward a large corner booth at the rear of the room. I could feel and hear the rest of the staff following behind as we marched through the dining room. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw booth after booth of grinning truckers empty and join the procession.
We stopped in front of the big table. Its surface was covered with coffee cups, saucers and dinner plates, all sitting slightly crooked on dozens of folded paper napkins. “First thing you have to do, Stevie, is clean up this mess,” I said. I tried to sound stern. Stevie looked at me, and then at his mother, then pulled out one of the napkins. It had “Something for Stevie” printed on the outside. As he picked it up, two $10 bills fell onto the table. Stevie stared at the money, then at all the napkins peeking from beneath the tableware, each with his name printed or scrawled on it.
I turned to his mother. “There’s more than $10,000 in cash and checks on that table, all from truckers and trucking companies that heard about your problems. Happy Thanksgiving.”
Well, it got real noisy about that time, with everybody hollering and shouting, and there were a few tears, as well. But you know what’s funny? While everybody else was busy shaking hands and hugging each other, Stevie, with a big, big smile on his face, was busy clearing all the cups and dishes from the table. Best worker I ever hired.
