False teachers and the end times

originally posted March 3, 2013 as "Leaders who deceive"

I've been a Christian for decades, and so I have done my share of timelines and studying Revelation. I've listened to arguments over whether the church will be raptured before the Tribulation, mid-Trib, or post-Trib. Sometimes, it all gets jumbled in my head: the Tribulation, the battle of Armageddon, the rapture, Jesus returning. I am not an engaged scholar on these matters.

There are a few things I'm sure of. The "end times" exist. Just as destruction came in the days of Noah, so judgment will come on the earth. Jesus, Paul, and Peter all said that there is a suddenness to the end, a surprising element for those who think that things will always keep on they way they are now (Matthew 24:42-44; 1 Thessalonians 5:2-4, 2 Peter 3:10, Revelation 3:3, 16:15). Christians should not be surprised that this age has an end. When Jesus taught His disciples about the Holy Spirit, He explained that the Spirit would teach us about things we need to understand about sin, righteousness, and judgement. The world in general does not understand nor like to think about judgement. Christians do, because it gives meaning to how we live.

Aside from Revelation, there are several passages that speak about the end: Matthew 24 (parallel in Mark 13, Luke 21), 1 Thessalonians 4-5, 2 Thessalonians 2, 2 Timothy 3, 2 Peter 3, and Jude. In many of these passages, the author is writing about false teachers, as if a discussion of false teachers, who have been in the church from early days, automatically makes one think about the end. In 1 John 2:18, John says, "Dear children, this is the last hour; and as you have heard that the antichrist is coming, even now many antichrists have come. This is how we know it is the last hour." The end and false teachers go hand in hand.

So here's a question: what does a false teacher look like? These passages give many specific examples, but step back with me for a moment. Jesus said that at judgement many people would approach the throne and say, "Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name and in your name drive out demons and in your name perform many miracles?" (Matthew 7:22). These people, whom the Lord told to leave Him, that He never knew them, had successful ministries. If you claim to have driven out demons and performed miracles, it is likely you have really seen something like this happen in your ministry. It seems likely that these ministries might look valid and good to an observer.

Jesus said, "False messiahs and false prophets will appear and perform great signs and wonders to deceive, if possible, even the elect. See, I have told you ahead of time" (Matthew 24:24-25). When we see huge earthquakes on the news, don't we think perhaps it is the end times? However, when you hear of miraculous things happening in a ministry, do you consider that this may also be a problem? The church in Revelation is persecuted; the false prophet performs great signs and is exalted and popular. Many popular church people want to say that the church looks mighty and great--well, the antichrist comes from the church, yes, but...do you hear a warning bell?

"Watch out that no one deceives you," Jesus says in Matthew 24:4. We, possibly even those of us who really know Jesus, are in danger of deception. We're in danger of persecution and, worse yet, mistaking something for Jesus when it is not.

In Mark 13, Jesus says, "At that time if anyone says to you, 'Look, here is the Messiah! or, 'Look, there he is!' do not believe it." I have always had a hard time imagining people claiming to be Jesus, and anyone telling me I should go check it out. And yet in my day, I have seen revivals erupt where Jesus' power is supposedly at work, that cause people to buy plane tickets and go there, to encounter Jesus.

I feel convicted to build on solid rock. I need Jesus to stir my heart and engage my mind. I am in danger of being deceived by religious things that I might love, things that might compel me because they are powerful and look like God.

In the end times, we will not be able to avoid persecution. We will not be able to avoid war and natural disasters. Relationships will be strained and painful. The world may fall apart, and I may suffer, but this one thing I know: we have been warned about deception. If Jesus told me to be on my guard, then He does not intend for me to be trapped.

The unbeautiful losers claim the winning ticket

The other day I was leaving Panera after meeting with a friend, and I caught my reflection in a mirror. Our pastor had been preaching on Saul and David, how mankind emphasized outward looks, but the Lord looks at the heart. I thought, "I am not very pretty," but my friend and I had just been encouraging each other in the Lord, in the midst of unpleasant circumstances, and I knew that when the Lord looked at my heart, He saw beauty there. Not because of anything inherent in me, but because of His Spirit in my life. He does indeed make all things beautiful--even me.

(photo by Jesse Millan)

In Luke 14, Jesus tells a story about a man who threw a wedding banquet for his son. All of his invited guests--the pretty people, the ones you thought would accept an invitation to the Oscars--made excuses. The master said, fine (he was pretty angry), and sent his servants out to gather in the poor, the crippled, the blind, the lame. The beautiful people have their own agendas, their own source of confidence. It is the point where you know you have nothing that you realize you do indeed need God.

I saw a Facebook page the other day called "Hookers for Jesus." This page was an invitation along the lines of Jesus' story: come as you are. Don't wait to clean up and make yourself beautiful; you need Him now. The banquet is ready, and your seat is waiting.

I was once helping a pastor with a group game at a church event. We were playing a trivia game and awarding prizes, and for some reason, we needed to select a second group apart from the obvious winner. I said, "Choose the table with the lowest score," and the pastor rebuked me with the comment, "No, Angie. We don't reward losers at this church."

Too bad. God loves losers. It's often the losers who bother to listen to Him. I should make a Facebook page called "Losers for Jesus."

We do not need to revel in our sinfulness, but don't paint it over and pretend it's not there. Jesus died for us because we are weak and we fail. Our weaknesses qualify us for His table. Bon appetit.

How an introvert entertains

If you just love having people over, if it is as easy for you as falling off a log, then skip this blog entry.

My husband and I are both content being quiet. I have more need for socializing than he does, but most days saying hi to the checker at Walmart would satisfy my need for people. However, our entire married lives, we have socialized and even entertained in our home. For introverts, it is important to start with why.

If you would rather be curled up with a good book or cuddle in front of a movie, why bother cleaning the house for company that you won't enjoy?

Our motivation for entertaining is simple: people matter. The real meaning in life will boil down to relationships. Proverbs 14:4 says, "Where there are no oxen, the manger is empty, but from the strength of an ox come abundant harvests." Your house will stay clean and your lives will be comfortable with minimal relationships, but it will lack purpose and fruit.

And so our children's friends are welcome in our home. And we go out of our comfort zone in order to invite friends to share a meal. Here are my tips for entertaining as an introvert.

1) Stretch. When someone says, "Let's get together" or your child says, "Can so-and-so sleep over?", say yes. If your ladies' group or church group needs someone to host a party, say yes. If your goal is to have people in your home, and you're introverted, it's not going to feel instinctive. You have to train yourself to open the door and smile.

2) Go small. Introverts use trappings to make us comfortable: the most fantastic meal, incredible decorations, the best party game, the most people. Leave that game behind, because now you know why you are gathering with people: because people are important. Worry less about cleaning and menus and prepare yourself to engage. If you are tired and empty when the company arrives, you won't make connections--which is the entire reason you are doing this.

3) Stop. Just because you've hosted your small group for two years doesn't mean you have to keep doing it. Just because the sleepover is always at your house doesn't mean it has to be this time. Just because you host a cookie decorating party with your neighbors every December doesn't mean you have to do it this year. Do not be a slave to schedule. God is in charge of your life, not you, and He can make a beautiful connection with work you've already done, or bring back a tradition that you don't have the time for at the moment. Life is always changing; let it change, and look for God's yes, not your own.

1 Peter 4:8-10 says, "Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms." This passage teaches us that as we are hospitable, we should also be amply forgiving, and we should serve God with the gifts and grace He gives, not out of comparison or compulsion, but with His joy.

May God bless your home as you put the oxen of grace and hospitality to work, looking for His harvest in your life and the lives of those around you.

Performance and nose-piercing

My daughter has been sick, and she's been watching a lot of teen drama. Of course we all roll our eyes at teen drama. But there was a moment in this story that was useful to me.

This teenage girl was going to a poetry slam to try to impress a boy. Her poem was a piece of fluff, and she didn't advance. Afterwards she asked the judge why, and he said, "We were looking for something a little more raw." So she pierces her nose and seeks some angst to make her poetry better.

This story resonated with me because in my twenties, I wrote and sought to publish my poetry. I'm now in my forties, and I can clearly see why I was so frustrated in those days. The people who were judging my poetry held to values that were completely different than mine. We both respected the craft of language, but I was looking for meaning, and the crowd who judged what was and wasn't publishable wanted an expression of the twentieth-century crisis of meaning in our post-modern chaos. It is very hard to seek the approval of people whose standard is not something I respect.

(The audience at the All Asia Cafe reacts to scores presented for a poem in the preliminary rounds of the 2011 National Poetry Slam. Photo © 2011 Richard Beaubien. I still love poetry.)

Yet I was somehow seeking their approval, like the nose-pierced girl in the story. If they said my poetry was good, then I had a meaningful life. But in order to remain true to myself, I had to convince them that my words were powerful and my old-fashioned sense of God and truth were real, themes they largely rejected. It was like going to a beauty contest and expecting praise for my lovely flute playing but not bothering with the swimsuit and evening gown.

Then I realized that somehow, I have even been struggling with the values of American television. In another strain of the tv drama, the mother gave a morning-after pill to her son's girlfriend, whose parents would have freaked for religious reasons over her having sex. She bemoaned why he didn't use a condom, when they kept them in the bathroom and always talked with him openly about "wise" sexual choices.

In this story, I'm the wacko religious parents, who appear in every tv drama and are always belittled. However, I am not seeking to please this crowd. Even though my God is invisible, some day I will stand before Him and answer to how I have raised my children. The world may cast me as stupid, an irresponsible, head-in-the-sand parent, but someday I really believe reality will shift, and "their" opinion is not the one that matters.

This small epiphany expanded yesterday: I'm also not seeking the approval of my church friends, or family. Voices of approval or disapproval slip into my head very easily, but there is one voice I am listening for. It takes work to constantly tune in to Him. I can miss His conviction, and I can miss His direction if I do not consciously bring my parenting to His altar and listen. I have to be still, and I have to be intentional.

In this blog article, let me be one small voice encouraging you to listen to Dad. I may need to come back and reread it myself, on those days I feel like piercing my nose and performing for the poetry judges.

Nativity

Reposted from December 14, 2009

This year, at my daughters' choir concert, I watched little 6-year-olds march into the church in their adorable sheep and shepherd outfits. Three teenagers carried in gifts, wearing splendid robes, like choir boys carrying the sacred items to the altar.

We know that celebrations of the nativity like this are not meant to be representations of the actual event. I started wondering...what would an American equivalent be? Joseph and Mary, good, church-attending kids, who got pregnant out of wedlock. Heads shake, because although we hope they do better, we know that so often church kids look just like the world. They drive an Aerostar, handed down in the family, to Kansas City, because Joseph hears they are hiring there, and he desperately needs a job. They don't have enough money for a hotel, and they are run out of several parking lots for vagrancy. One shop owner, locking up for the night, tells them to park behind his rental house, which hasn't been leased yet. He can't let them stay in the house, but they can sleep in their van in the driveway without fear of being run off.

In that van, in that borrowed driveway, Mary gives birth to the Savior of the world, whose head is cone-shaped, and he snorts a lot. We don't know His apgar score; they clean Him up as best they can and wrap Him in a blanket that Joseph's mom had bought for them, a beautiful new one, blue because Mary was just "sure" it would be a boy. The Savior, helpless in their arms. He's too tired to nurse, so they cuddle up as best as they can to try to sleep.

In a bar not too many streets over, some Hispanic landscape workers have stopped to have a beer before heading home. They are laughing and telling stories, the only people there except the owner and a waitress, when suddenly a brilliant light appears from the wall. A form appears in the light and speaks to them: do not be afraid, there is good news. The angel gives them an address, tells them they will find a baby newly born in an Aerostar van, and then suddenly the inside of the bar is bathed in light and angels everywhere, on every wall, across the ceiling, as if the roof has been lifted off and transported them all to heaven, giving glory to God Almighty...and then it stops. It's just a bar again. The men are stunned. They leave their drinks, their expensive equipment and run the few blocks to the place where the angels told them they would find a child. Sure enough! The beautiful blue blanket, the tiny, impoverished family, somehow just like them. The men marvel at the angel's accurate words. What a visitation! What could this mean! They tell everyone they meet, but no one understands it. The media won't even pick up the story, because it's just a group of Hispanics with a wild tale (from a bar, no less). The owner of the bar buys a picture of an angel to hang on the wall; they will never forget this night in this one run-down watering hole. This is the first place Jesus is exalted, God's choice of a church service.

Joseph does find work as a welder (his trade), and they rent a small house, and the baby grows. Mary gets a job at a fabric shop and Jesus stays with a woman next door who takes in a few neighbor kids. She's not registered with DHS, but they trust her, and she is very fond of their child. One day when Mary stops to pick up Jesus after getting off work, she finds three men in business suits talking with Jesus' caretaker. They were wanting to know if this was indeed Jesus BarJoseph, born on such and such date. Mary is puzzled and a little hesitant to answer their questions, but God somehow eases her heart, that it is safe to say yes. They have been searching for this child. The white-haired man who seems to be in charge introduces himself as Warren Buffett. Mary does not know who he is, but he says that he has been waiting for this child, and he would like to be a silent benefactor. He has set up a trust fund for the child, to provide private schooling, an allowance for necessary living expenses, and a college education. He would like to finance any venture that the child chooses when He is grown...could they sit and talk? Mr. Buffett has brought his lawyer and accountant. He assures Mary that he wants nothing in return; it is a blessing simply to silently provide what he can. Mary marvels at this. She remembers the immigrant workers who came when Jesus was born, and she stores these things in her heart. Her son will now be able to go to a good school, have decent clothes. How good of God to provide, even before the child is in preschool.

Because Mary and Joseph are not wealthy, the neighborhood where they live is a little rough. They are sometimes harassed for being Middle Eastern. When Jesus is about two, a very bad character begins asserting influence. He is an Asian gang member, recently moved to Kansas City from Los Angeles, and he has some ideas about what should be happening in their corner of the world. As his influence grows, their neighborhood becomes very frightening, and they often find themselves under attack by this new gang. One night, warned in a dream, Joseph is instructed to take their son and flee to Arkansas...

Wouldn't it be fun to set up a nativity with a tiny model Aeorstar, three figures stuffed inside, Hispanic workers running towards it, sometimes modeled with a weedeater in hand, to show their trade. A figure of Warren Buffet and two other men in suits standing to the side, with briefcases. Our version has a limo that these businessmen arrived in, and there is a stray dog cocking his head and looking in the van, curious like everyone else.

Merry Christmas.

A gift finds its life

During the holidays, I think about family maybe more than usual--the gift of family in general, but also those who have passed on. And I enjoy where my kids are in the moment: preschoolers with their fascination of boxes (not the gift you actually bought), school-age children who are learning to give and not just receive, or teenagers who are finding their own path. This year, those two sentimental moments collided.

My daughter, home from college, suggested to my high school senior that they have a party. It was delightful to me to watch them plan food and activities together, contact friends, and work through obstacles. In the two days leading up to it, the girls and I shopped and cooked, and furiously cleaned the house. Yes, they cleaned the house. It was like Christmas-come-early for me, as you might imagine.

The eldest was telling me the litany of drinks, which included coffee. (Side note: I'm so glad she's the type of college student who came home passionate about coffee instead of alcohol. Way to go, girl.) She was also planning to make punch and asked if I had a bowl.

In the last year of her life, my husband's grandmother lived with us. I have so many memories of her. She was opinionated and deeply loyal to her family. She always had "suggestions," which she usually sort of forced on you, and yet you still felt loved in all her bullying. (My husband didn't always react so well to her, which is probably the difference of living with her for one year vs. having a lifetime of bossiness.) One time, she showed me this punch bowl that she had and announced, "You're going to need this, with three girls. You'll have parties and weddings and all sorts of receptions. You'll need a punch bowl."

Right. Of course, she lived decades in Tennessee, raising her daughter in the 50's and 60's. Punch bowls were probably a requirement in her world, but I just didn't see it happening in mine. The punch bowl, filled with glasses, stayed at the top of my husband's closet.

But when my daughter said, "Do we have a bowl for the punch?" I suddenly remembered it. We dug it out. It was resting on a cut glass plate, and as we unloaded all the glasses, there was something like a candy dish inside. I realized it was a tier: the bowl rested on the odd little piece and then on the tray to make a chalice. She had included hooks for the sides of the bowl, from which you could hang the cups.

And all the cups were mismatched. The bowl was this amazing contraption, but the cups were some smooth, some with glass fruit patterns, some cut in all different styles. Two of one pattern, four of another, for a total of 24. I love mismatched things. It feels a bit modern somehow, the hodgepodge of styles, held together with the punch theme.

And the first time I cared about it was my daughters' first party as young adults. The punch bowl served my eldest's favorite recipe: Hawaiian punch and Sprite, not fancy at all. It was gobbled up by the dozen teenagers in my home (mostly boys, who I'm sure didn't really care about the beautiful little glass punch cups).

And there was the memory of Grandmother, standing in my kitchen: "I told you that you would need a punch bowl."

For parties.

For weddings.

For all kinds of receptions.

I guess when I go forward in this life, I will be equipped with the punch bowl I didn't know I needed. Heritage is like that--it gives you things you never knew you would want.

Mary, did you know?

At least once during the Christmas season, I spontaneously burst into tears over a Christmas song. Usually, it's "Mary, Did You Know?" but today it was something similar: "You're Here" by Francesca Battistelli.

The line, "I'll be watching when you change the world" is what started me blubbering. My children are poised on the edge of adulthood. I want to watch them change the world. I've worked to teach them what that looks like: loving people, not seeking your own glory, serving others, listening, committing. I'm not sure if any of us get a "big assignment." We're each a part of the church, this amazing organism that is Jesus Christ in a hurting world.

But what did it look like, for Mary, when Jesus changed the world?

I was talking with one of my girls about Christianity in the car the other day. We were talking about how deeply she questions her beliefs, and I simply reassured her: if you seek God, you will find Him. By asking questions, you are making sure that the foundation for your life is solid and worth building on. A solid foundation is worth having, so ask away. She knows that there are claims on your life when you follow God. She struggles with the truth that, as a Christian, you can't just do whatever you want.

We have three desires for our daughters' future spouses: 1) be kind and respectful, 2) follow Jesus, and 3) be willing and able to support a family. My daughter said that she hoped she would be attractive to a Christian, even though she questions God so much.

My heart cried out, "Oh, yes, baby. You will be attractive to the kind of man you will need." I really believe that each of my children will grow up to change the world, just because they are so alive and beautiful. They are salt and light. Wherever God takes them, they will bring healing, preservation, and a brightness that is in them because of God.

The world, however, can be harsh and ugly. And I think the world will hurt them. I've watched it already in the "safe" environment of school and church.

So when Francesca Battistelli sings, "But I'll be watching when you change the world," I think of Mary at a distance as Jesus is being scourged. I think of her watching him impaled on a cross and hanging naked like a criminal.

Because He was saving us.

She had a few people around her who were heartbroken with her, but her heart was so shattered that God warned her in advance what was coming (Luke 2:35), just so she would know that this was not beyond Him: it was actually the plan.

If I want the Lord to work in the lives of my children, my expectations should be the same as Mary's. I do not believe that they are guaranteed health, wealth, and happiness; I believe that God wants to touch people, and my child will be a part of that. And it might hurt.

"For it has been granted to you on behalf of Christ not only to believe in him, but also to suffer for him" (Philippinas 1:29). It has been granted.

"Son though he was, he learned obedience through what he suffered" (Hebrews 5:8).

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you [or your children] face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything" (James 1:2-4).