Feeling left out normally isn’t a pleasant experience.

But maturity tends to soften the blow by providing a more realistic perspective of a situation. Exclusion isn’t only something we learn to deal with. It often just becomes irrelevant.

But one thing is certain, the relationships we do choose to develop are sustained by reciprocity.

If they’re not, then they usually go south at some point, because the ground rules of healthy relationships are commonly established at their beginnings. For example, Jesus Christ insisted that His disciples help perfect the mutual nature of their relationship with Him. He said to them:

“Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ shall enter into the kingdom of the heavens, but the one who is doing the will of My Father who is in the heavens [shall enter]. Many will say to Me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in Your name, and in Your name cast out demons, and in Your name perform many miracles?’ And then I shall confess to them, ‘I never knew you. Depart from Me—you who are practicing lawlessness’” [Matt. 7: 21-23] [my emphasis]

γινώσκω: (gî-nōse-kō), have knowledge of, find out, learn, understand, perceive, discern, to have knowledge acknowledge, recognize, be very certain, remember

ἀνομία: (â’-nô-mîâ) wickedness, lawlessness, sin

Jesus demanded that my walk with Him take place on the same path that He’s on.

I can claim to know Christ, proclaiming everything He said. It might sound credible to the world, but if my words and actions don’t resonate with the Spirit Himself [see: Rom. 8:16], then perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised “on that day.”

If I didn’t practice what I preached, He’s gonna know about it.

He’s gonna know all about me for sure.

But He’s not gonna know me.

“Therefore everyone who hears these words of Mine and acts on them may be compared to a wise man who built his house on the rock.” [Matt. 7:24]

When asked what he’s done to live a healthy life into his nineties, Clint Eastwood once quipped:

“I get up every morning and I don’t let the old man in.”

This sounds like a great mental strategy to help impede the normal process of metabolic aging. If I don’t let him near me, he can’t rub off on me. And I’d be a better man for it—or maybe just an older one.

Because while longevity is an inherent objective, it can be pointless trying to achieve it as a natural man. That man is more of a threat to me than some dude with a sickle and hoodie:

“…a natural man does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him. He cannot understand them, because they are spiritually appraised.” [1Cor. 2:14] [my emphasis]

He’s the old man I’m determined not to let in.

The apostle Paul wouldn’t let him back in either. In his letter to “all who [were] beloved of God in Rome, called as saints, he confirms that the faithful regenerate man—that is, the one who continues to walks in newness of life, has shed the old sinful temperament [or “old man”] that once controlled him:

“Therefore we have been buried with Him through baptism into death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead through the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have become united with Him in the likeness of His death, we shall also be of the resurrection, knowing this, that our old man was crucified with Him, in order that our body of sin might be done away with, so that we would no longer be slaves to sin, because he who has died is freed from sin.” [Rom. 6:4-7] [my emphasis]

[ἄνθρωπος: (ân’-throw-pôs) man, people, mankind, person]

That old man tries to find his way back in my life once in a while. But I’m every bit as confident about my struggle as Clint is about his—actually more so, because his battle is all his to fight.

But not mine.

Because whenever I think I could lose a battle, I remember that Jesus Christ has already won the war. So if I can keep my old man down in his grave, I can rest assured I’ll be raised from mine someday.

Can you say that Clint?

“Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with Him…” [Rom. 6:8]

Any suggestion that gender can be exchanged or re-formulated breaches the limits of sanity.

Everyone in his right mind knows this. As a logical, moral people, we know we shouldn’t even be having conversations about something so preposterous. The real issue, then, is that not everyone is in his right mind.

[How do people become callused to God’s truth? see: Rom. 1:18-32]

Fortunately, this isn’t just my opinion. Gender is actually a Biblical concept. That means God first created sexual distinction and then He defined the differences. These differences didn’t emerge randomly or evolve over a period of time.

For this reason, gender cannot be correctly understood or applied outside of a Scriptural context. In the International Council on Gender Studies’ publication, Five Aspects of Man, the groundwork upon which transgenderism is built can be described from a Biblical perspective:

It is “…the direct result of feminism and homosexuality built on the foundational sins of idolatry and autonomy.”

If a man doesn’t understand why God created him, then he’s going to build his life around something other than Him by creating idols for himself. The result is that everything and everyone connected to his Biblically mandated authority and guardianship begins to fall apart.

Because a wife and children are responders, they learn to reject the husband’s/father’s authority in the same way that he rejects God’s authority. And so begins the cycle of delusion and depravity—a generational devaluation of the created order which was originally proclaimed to be “good.”

And while autonomy isn’t always a bad dog, the context here suggests an attitude completely free from external control or influence—something clearly incompatible with being a disciple of Jesus Christ. The result is that autonomous behavior simply becomes a warm-up act, setting the stage for just about any form of decadence to perform.

Sexual deviance is now a rockstar singing its final song. With razor edges, it’s shredding the remaining remnant of a great moral fabric under which free people once shrouded themselves.

How long will we allow the show to go on?

It’s a real heart-breaker.

Some might recall a popular catchphrase of the 70’s: “Hey man, WWJD?” It was an acronym for “What would Jesus do?”

Though it was seriously overworked, it was often an effective means of administering either encouragement or shame. It eventually became versatile enough to be used solemnly or with levity. The interesting thing was that sometimes it actually worked.

After all, Jesus Christ was a paradigm of integrity for His people, wasn’t He?

But I used to wonder how anyone could retain his dignity and allow himself to be humiliated and tortured at the same time. Common sense seems to suggest that integrity not worth defending can hardly be considered to exist in the first place.

So what did Jesus do?

He offered Himself up for slaughter yet maintained the dignity He deserved. But did He accomplish this simply because He was God—being the only One able to legitimately execute this particular task of Biblical prophecy and, as a result, live again to tell about it?

If that were true, what would’ve been the point?

I believe He chose to suffer as a man for more reasons than I can understand. But I’m also convinced that, by suffering as a result of true obedience, He demonstrated the essence of dignity rather than absence of it.

I can even conclude that, if my integrity isn’t in tact, then perhaps my ability to obey is compromised as well.

But then, I could strive to be like the Person of Jesus.

Though He suffered pain like any other man would, He chose not to focus on it. As a man, He had the capacity to hate those persecuting Him because it was unjust. But He chose not to.

The things He did—or didn’t do, weren’t necessarily a model for me to follow in every circumstance.

But His reasons were. And His choices paid for my freedom to make the right ones.

That’s what Jesus did.

I’d like to think I’ve been the one who chose what I did with my life.

But when I look back, that’s not completely true. Just like everybody else, I have specific needs, desires, skills and talents. So, it follows that I’ve learned to focus on the things which sustain me—the skills and talents.

The thing is, I had to discover some of the things I can do well.

Because I didn’t know I could do them until that happened. When I was a kid, I knew that I had predominant gross motor skills. I realized that by comparing what I did with others. As a result, I chose to develop my talents and profit from it.

But, eventually, the Lord got my attention. I often say that He took hold of me by the ears and wouldn’t let go. That made it impossible to unhear what He said. And I’m grateful that I couldn’t because He showed me that I could do His work in ways I never imagined.

I also learned not to waste any time getting started. [see: Matt. 25:14-46]

His gifts to me were extraordinary—precious gems hidden in plan sight, revealed to me as spiritual capital, waiting to be invested for His purposes. From then on, I began to sow my seeds in a different field.

The irony of finding and developing spiritual gifts is that we often don’t become aware of them until we’re mature enough to develop them in a way that glorifies God.

But then, there’s a joy that accompanies authentic servanthood—the same joy that fueled the hearts of Abraham, Moses and the prophets Samuel and Isaiah:

“Here I am, Lord!”

So, leave no stone unturned seeking the gifts God has prepared for you. They don’t always fall in your lap. Define them, and seek to perfect them. Prepare yourself by honing the skills you already have and sharpening your tools. Then all you need to do is show up.

I guarantee He’ll put you to work.

It wasn’t actually a physical place, but I spent a lot of time there.  

Even though I knew a certain level of responsibility was expected from me, I was convinced I was a work in progress, and that, eventually, I’d gain the maturity and insight needed to live fully accountable to Him.

But nobody seemed to be in a hurry for that to happen. 

And I must confess that I still spend a night there on occasion.  But, in hindsight, I’m able to see what made me a parolee for so long.  It was an insatiable desire to have my cake and eat it too.

I was hell-bent on getting what I deserved. 

For much of my adult life, I was aware of a spiritual struggle going on inside me.  Godliness was a genuine goal, but I couldn’t find a way to give up my love for the world and all that was in it.  And, unfortunately, I wasn’t alone.  I had a massive support system in that house.  If anyone tried to hold me accountable for my behavior or my speech, there was always someone willing to plead my case.  I never even had to ask for it. 

And, of course, I was always obliged to reciprocate. 

But the Lord was my parole officer, and, after a while, He did indeed give me what I deserved.  He handed me over to the duplicitous lifestyle I couldn’t seem to get enough of.

As a result, my fence sitting went from a being frequent passion to an insufferable habit. Eventually though, I discovered the reason why fences are built, and it wasn’t for people to sit on.

I also discovered that I actually could walk consistently on the right side of them.

My God is a patient, powerful and compassionate God.  

That’s a fact. 

I couldn’t help notice the young man squirming impatiently in the pew.

It continued until the sacraments of The Lord’s Supper ritual were eventually distributed to him and the rest of us present in the local congregation. But then, having partaken of the bread and juice, he flew the coop.

I had to assume he thought participating in Christian communion was a crucial act of self-preservation in itself. But what caught my attention was that, regardless of what he might have thought it meant, he took it very seriously.

And that’s important.

Because sincerity was the focus of the apostle Paul’s letter to the church of God which [was] at Corinth when he recounted to them the significance of Jesus Christ’s covenantal supper with His disciples. [see: Matt. 26:26-28]

So, what was Paul trying to get across to the congregations whenever they would come together to share The Lord’s Supper? [see: 1Cor. 11:23-33]

I would think that taking the sacraments “…in remembrance of Christ” would be at the top of the list. [vss. 24-25] It seems easy enough. But to seriously consider [or remember] what Jesus did and what happened to Him as a result is both unsettling and humbling.

Having repeated Jesus’ words, Paul wrote:

“For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until He comes.” [vs. 26]

[καταγγέλλω: (kâ-tân-gê’-lō) proclaim, make known, preach, teach, advocate]

I used to unwittingly limit the full context of this sentence. Sure, every time I took communion, I was declaring that Jesus died on the cross and that He’s coming back again. Right?

But I’m also saying something more profound.

By “proclaiming” His death, I’m demonstrating to the world my intention to die also to the power of sin. That’s making a serious statement.

But Paul mentioned something else worth repeating:

“Therefore whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner, shall be guilty of the body and the blood of the Lord.” [1Cor. 11:27] [my emphasis]

[ἀναξίως: adverb, (â-nâck-sî’-ōs) in an unworthy, improper or careless manner]

So what would make a man unworthy to take communion? I’m certainly not qualified to say, but I can learn how to make that determination about myself. Paul had some suggestions:

“But let [a] man examine himself, and in so doing, let him [decide whether to] eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For the one eating and drinking does [indeed] eat and drink judgment to himself if he does not discern the body correctly. For this reason, many among you are weak and sick, and many die. But, if we were discerning ourselves correctly, we would not be [in the process of] being judged. [1Cor. 11: 28-31] [my emphasis]

[δοκιμάζω: (dô-kî-mâ’-zō) test, examine interpret, discern, discover, approve, prove, demonstrate]

It appears that some level of prayerful introspection is necessary for any disciple of Jesus Christ to be able to demonstrate to Him [and to himself] that he is in fact worthy of sharing in The Lord’s Supper.

But whatever might make him unworthy of actually partaking of these sacraments is for him alone to decide.

According to Paul, our Lord demands us to solemnly qualify ourselves for the occasion of Holy communion. If I can see that I’m not able to do that, I might want to pass on the bread and grape juice that day.

If I don’t, then perhaps I should get serious about accepting the consequences.

Human freedom has always been achieved by choice.

But that’s not something that’s recently been disclosed in a New York Times Best Seller paperback. These pathetic cycles from enslavement into liberation and back into bondage over the past 6000 years are evident to anyone willing to read history.

The pagan world consistently separates any belief concerning religious freedom from that of civic freedom, envisioning the two as oil and water. On the other hand, I’m convinced that every faithful disciple of Jesus Christ perceives freedom as possessions in aggregate rather than in categories.

He knows that some measure of moral liberty must prevail in every box he creates for himself—otherwise he isn’t really free.

By reading the Bible, he can discover a common thread of thought that’s woven throughout all the texts: Men who eventually become aware of their weakness and depravity are summarily drawn to a mindset that seeks to rightfully abolish any form of bondage that might otherwise enslave them.

For them, freedom is a state of mind—a way of life.

The Lord God created human beings in His own image that He might offer them the choice of whether or not to seek fellowship with Him. As a consequence, their freedom to choose that fellowship doesn’t appear to be optional. They either accept it or reject it.

But only because of Christ’s death is the foundation for all forms of freedom established.

Yet, somehow we’ve been pursuaded that the freedom that Jesus offered to mankind isn’t relevant to every aspect of His disciples’ lives. A sermon preached in a registered [501c-3] congregation today is likely to suggest that “Jesus didn’t get into politics.” But, in fact, Jesus Christ was the most “politically” polarizing force that ever walked on the Earth.

[(political: of or relating to government, a government, or the conduct of government) The Merriam Webster Dictionary also defines “politic” as an adjective, suggesting such synonyms as advisable, desirable, expedient, judicious, prudent, tactical and wise.] [see also: Isa. 9:6]

He did indeed tell the Pharisees to give Caesar back his coins [Matt. 22: 17-22]. But I’d do well not to read too much into that. Even though indentured servitude was [and is] sometimes a circumstance to endure, Jesus never encouraged His disciples to willfully submit to unrighteous rule.

It seems to me that my freedom from the bondage of sin because of Christ should be the basis upon which I seek to liberate myself from anything that tries to subjugate me.

Though a slave to Him, I am otherwise created as a sovereign in my responsibility of self-determination.

Sound familiar?

“It was for freedom that Christ set us free; therefore keep standing firm and do not be subject again to a yoke of slavery.” [Gal. 5:1]