Watch Your Mouth

In the current culture, it seems what goes into the mouth is given much more thought and priority than what comes out of it.

Even Jesus and His disciples discussed which is more important. As Mark 7:18 describes, “Are you so dull?’ He asked. ‘Don’t you see that nothing that enters a person from the outside can defile them?’”

Sadly in today’s setting much more focus and importance is put into what types of food goes into a mouth, while what comes out of it seems to be given very little thought.

Yet Jesus took great care to explain why what goes into the body through the mouth, is not as important as what comes out of it. “Don’t you see that whatever enters the mouth goes into the stomach and then out of the body?” (Matthew 15:17)

Continuing His dialogue with them on the topic, Jesus had more to say about it, “He went on: ‘What comes out of a person is what defiles them’” (Mark 7:20).

Current culture seems to foster hateful, hurtful, and careless words designed to humiliate and destroy others, and supports the sharing of it through public and social media for the whole world to hear or read.

As well, worldwide share-ability through technology has escalated the effects of its destructive reach.

Still Jesus emphasized that what comes out of peoples’ mouths is destructive to themselves (Matthew 15:11) a truth seemed lost in today’s society.

Yet how many people might think twice about what they are writing or saying if they understood their words are defiling themselves?

If individuals truly understood how their words towards others are actually revealing more about their own heart, along with causing much harm personally, they might reconsider the things they say and write.

Luke 6:45 explains how “A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in his heart. For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of.”

If you’ve been tempted to jump onto the social media insult wagon, consider your words as Ephesians 5:31 urges, “Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice.”

Instead of lashing out with your words, Colossians 3:8 encourages, “But now you must also rid yourselves of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips.”

Ask God to, “Set a guard over my mouth, Lord; keep watch over the door of my lips” (Psalm 141:3).

When you do, Scripture assures, “Those who guard their lips preserve their lives, but those who speak rashly will come to ruin” (Proverbs 13:3).

Three Questions To Ask About Your Feelings

What are human desires? They’re your emotions and your affections. And once you become a Christ-follower, your life should be controlled by God’s will, not by how you feel.

The Bible says in 1 Peter 4:2, “From now on, then, you must live the rest of your earthly lives controlled by God’s will and not by human desires” (GNT).

When you’re angry or upset or frustrated—whatever you’re feeling—ask yourself these three questions:
1)“What’s the real reason I’m feeling this?” Maybe the answer is fear or worry. Maybe it relates to something a parent said to you years ago. And then when someone else says something similar, that person becomes the target of all your pent-up anger.
2) “Is it true?” Is what you’re feeling at that moment true? There’s a point in the Bible where Elijah gets so discouraged that he goes to God and complains, “God, I’m the only one in the entire nation of Israel left serving you.” And God challenges him, saying, “Are you kidding me? I’ve got all these people who are still serving me! You’re acting like you’re the only one trying to do the right thing in the whole world! No, that’s not true.”
3) “Is what I’m feeling helping me or hurting me?” Will you get what you want by continuing to feel this way? Many feelings seem beneficial, but they’re actually self-defeating.

For example, let’s say you go to a restaurant, and the service is extremely slow. You wait a long time to be served. Then a couple comes in 15 minutes after you and gets their meals before you do. You become increasingly irritated until you feel something welling up inside you. You can ask yourself today’s three questions:
What’s the real reason you’re feeling this? You’re hungry!
Is it true? Yes, you’re frustrated because the service is slow.
Is what you’re feeling helping you or hurting you? It’s hurting you. Getting angry with the server won’t get you better service. Does nagging ever work? When somebody tells you all the things you’re doing wrong, does it make you want to change? No, all it does is make you defensive.

So you can conclude that managing your emotions—choosing calm over anger—is the best path.
When you stop to ask yourself these three questions, you’ll get a better grip on why you feel the way you do and what you need to do to help the situation.
Don’t let your feelings control you. Choose to deal with how you feel—to manage your emotions—today.

Storm Protection

In every life, the rain will come down and the streams will rise. That’s why, when we hear the Word of God, we need to listen as though our lives depend on it because they do. Our spiritual lives do.

Jesus, in His conclusion to the Sermon on the Mount, said, “Whoever hears these sayings of Mine, and does them, I will liken him to a wise man who built his house on the rock: and the rain descended, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house; and it did not fall, for it was founded on the rock” (Matthew 7:24-25 NKJV).

In contrast to the wise man who built his house on the rock, Jesus made this statement about the people who don’t do this: “Everyone who hears these sayings of Mine, and does not do them, will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand: and the rain descended, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house; and it fell. And great was its fall” (verses 26-27 NKJV).

We’re in a spiritual battle, and we fight a spiritual battle with spiritual weapons. In fact, Ephesians 6:17 tells us that the sword of the Spirit is the Word of God. So when the Devil comes with a temptation, we need to respond with the sword of the Spirit. Or when the Devil whispers in your ear, “You’re not really a Christian. God hasn’t forgiven you,” we need to respond with the sword of the Spirit.

Memorize the Word of God. Use the Word of God. It will help you in times of temptation and in times of trial. As the psalmist wrote, “Your word I have hidden in my heart, that I might not sin against You” (Psalm 119:11 NKJV). Know the Word of God.

“Love’s Flagship”

See the people hiding in the closet? The folks ducking behind the stairwell? That’s you and me. We’re avoiding the bill collectors. This is the eve of eviction. The bank has given us one day to pay the mortgage. Credit-card agents are camped on the front lawn. Loan sharks have our number on speed dial. But we are broke. We’ve peddled our last food stamp. The water is disconnected, the car repossessed, the furniture picked up, and now the IRS agent is knocking on the door. He wants back taxes. “I know you are in there. Open up!”

So we do. He tells us how much we owe; we remind him that turnips give no blood. He mentions jail, and at this point a warm bed out of reach of creditors doesn’t sound half bad.

Just as he mentions for the sheriff, his cell phone rings. It’s Washington. The president wants a word with us, an explanation from us. We have none. No defense. Only a plea for patience. He listens in silence and asks to speak with the agent again. As the president speaks, the suit nods and says, “Yessir…Yessir…Yessir.” He closes his phone and looks first at you and then at me. “I know who you know, but your debt is paid, “he says, tearing up the papers and letting the pieces fall.

Maybe you didn’t know God did that for us. Maybe no one has told you about “God’s…patience and willingness to put up with you” (Romans 2:4 CEV). Could be you dozed off the day I preached from Psalm 103:8: “The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love” (NIV). If so, no wonder you’ve been edgy. No wonder you’ve been impatient. Bankruptcy can put the best of us in a foul mood. You know what you need to do?

Step out on the porch. Stand where the IRS guy stood, and look at those papers – the torn pieces scattered and strewn across the lawn. Stare at the proof of God’s patience.

You were in debt!

Those times you used his name only when you cussed? God could have blown up at you. But he didn’t. He was patient.

Those thousand sunsets you never thanked him for? He could have put you on beauty rations. But he didn’t. He was patient.

Those Sundays you strutted into church to show off the new dress? It’s a wonder he didn’t strike you naked. But he didn’t. He was patient. And, oh my, those promises: “Get me out of this, and I’ll never tell another lie.” “Count on me to stand up for you from now on.” “I’m done with temper tantrums, Lord.” Goodness gracious. If broken promises were lumber, we could build a subdivision. Doesn’t God have ample reason to walk out on us?

But he doesn’t. Why? Because “God is being patient with you” (2 Peter 3:9).

Paul presents patience as the premiere expression of love. Positioned at the head of the apostle’s Love Armada – a boat-length or two in front of kindness, courtesy, and forgiveness – is the flagship known as patience. “Love is patient” (1 Corinthians 13:4).

The Greek word used here for patience is a descriptive one. It figuratively means “taking a long time to boil.” Think about a pot of boiling water. What factors determine the speed at which it boils? The size of the stove? No. The pot? The utensil may have an influence, but the primary factor is the intensity of the flame. Water boils quickly when the flame is high. It boils slowly when the flame is low. Patience “keeps the burner down.”

Helpful clarifications, don’t you think? Patience isn’t naïve. It doesn’t ignore misbehavior. It just keeps the flame low. It waits. It listens. It’s slow to boil. This is how God treats us. And, according to Jesus, this is how we should treat others.

He once told a parable about a king who decides to settle his accounts with his debtors. His bookkeeper surfaces a fellow who owes not thousands or hundreds of thousands but millions of dollars. The king summarily declares that the man and his wife and kids are to be sold to pay the debt. Because of his inability to pay, the man is about to lose everything and everyone dear to him. No wonder the man fell down before the king and begged him, “Oh, sir, be patient with me, and I will pay it all.” Then the king was filled with pity for him, and he released him and forgave his debt.

The word patience makes a surprising appearance in the story. The debtor does not plead for mercy or forgiveness; he pleads for patience. Equally curious is this singular appearance of the word. Jesus uses it twice in this story and never again. It appears nowhere in the Gospels. Perhaps the scarce usage is the first-century equivalent of a highlighter. Jesus reserves the word for one occasion to make one point. Patience is more than a virtue for long lines and slow waiters. Patience is the red carpet upon which God’s grace approaches us.

Had there been no patience, there would have been no mercy. But the king was patient, and the man with the multi-million dollar debt was forgiven.

But then the story takes a left turn. This freshly forgiven fellow makes a beeline from the courthouse to the suburbs. There he searches out a guy who owes him some money. He grabbed him by the throat and demanded instant payment. His fellow servant fell down before him and begged for a little more time. “Be patient and I will pay it,” he pleaded. But his creditor wouldn’t wait. He had the man arrested and jailed until the debt could be paid in full. The king is stunned. How could the man be so impatient? How dare the man be so impatient! The ink of the CANCELLED stamp is still moist on the man’s bills. Wouldn’t you expect a little Mother Teresa-ness out of him? You’d think

That a person who’d been forgiven so much would love much. But he didn’t. And his lack of love led to a costly mistake.

The unforgiving servant is called back to the castle.

“You evil servant! I forgave you that tremendous debt because you pleaded with me. Shouldn’t you have mercy on your fellow servant, just as I had mercy on you?” Then the angry king sent the man to prison until he had paid every penny.

The king’s patience made no different in the man’s life. To the servant, throne room mercy was nothing more than a canceled test, a dodged bullet, a get-out-of-jail-free card. He wasn’t stunned by the royal grace; he was relieved he hadn’t been punished. He was given much patience but gave none, which makes us wonder if he actually understood the gift he had received.

If you find patience hard to give, you might ask the same question. How infiltrated are you with God’s patience? You’re heard about it. Read about it. Perhaps even underlined Bible passages regarding it. But have you received it? The proof is in your patience. Patience deeply received results in patience freely offered.

But patience never received leads to an abundance of problems, not the least of which is prison. Remember where the king sent the unforgiving servant? “Then the angry king sent the man to prison until he had paid ever penny” (Matthew 18:34 NLT).

Whew! We sigh. Glad that story is a parable. It’s a good thing God doesn’t imprison the impatient in real life. Don’t be so sure he doesn’t. Self-absorption and ingratitude make for thick walls and lonely jails.

Impatience still imprisons the soul. For that reason, our God is quick to help us avoid it. He does more than demand patience from us; he offers it to us. Patience is an ingredient of the fruit of the Spriit. It hangs from the tree of Galatians 5:22; “The Spirit produces the fruit of love, joy, peace, patience.” Have you asked God to give you some fruit? Well I did once, but…But what? Did you grow impatient? Ask him again and again and again. He won’t grow impatient with your pleading, and you will receive patience in your praying.

And while you’re praying, ask for understanding. “Patient people have great understanding” (Proverbs 14:29). Could it be your impatience stems from a lack of understanding? Mine has.

Before anything else, love is patient.

For an example, come with me to Paris, France, 1954, Elie Wiesel is a correspondent for a Jewish newspaper. A decade earlier he was a prisoner in a Jewish concentration camp. A decade later he would be known as the author of Night, the Pulitzer Prize – winning account of the Holocaust. Eventually he’ll be awarded the Congressional Medal of Achievement and the Nobel Peace Prize.

But tonight, Elie Wiesel is a 26-year old unknown newspaper correspondent.

He is about to interview the French author Francois Mauriac, who is a devout Christian. Mauriac is France’s most recent Nobel laureate for literature and an expert on French political life.

Wiesel shows up at Mauriac’s apartment, nervous and chain-smoking – his emotions still frayed from the German horror, his comfort as a writer still raw. The older Mauriac tries to put him at ease. He invites Wiesel in, and the two sit in the small room. Before Wiesel can ask a question, however, Mauriac, a staunch Roman Catholic, begins to speak about his favorite subject: Jesus. Wiesel grows uneasy. The name of Jesus is a pressed thumb on his infected wounds.

Wiesel tries to reroute the conversation but can’t. It is as though everything in creation leads back to Jesus. Jerusalem? Jerusalem is where Jesus ministered. The Old Testament? Because of Jesus, the Old is now enriched by the New. Mauriac turns every topic toward the Messiah. The anger in Wiesel begins to heat. The Christian anti-Semitism he’d grown up with, the layers of grief from Sighet, Auschwitz, and Buchenwald – it all boils over. He puts away his pen, shuts his notebook and stands up angrily.

“Sir,” he said to the still-seated Mauriac, “you speak of Christ. Christians love to speak of him. The passion of Christ, the agony of Christ, the death of Christ. In your religion, that is all you speak of. Well, I want you to know that ten years ago, not very far from here, I knew Jewish children every one of whom suffered a thousand times more, six million times more, than Christ on the cross. And we don’t speak about them. Can you understand that, sir? We don’t speak about them.”

Mauriac is stunned. Wiesel turns and marches out the door. Mauriac sits in shoch, his woolen blanket still around him. The young reporter is pressing the elevator button when Mauriac appears in the hall. He gently reaches for Wiesel’s arm. “Come back,” he implores. Wiesel agrees, and the two sit on the sofa. At this point Mauriac begins to weep. He looks at Wiesel but says nothing. Just tears.

Wiesel starts to apologize. Mauriac will have nothing of it. Instead he urges his young friend to talk. He wants to hear about it – the camps, the trains, the deaths. He asks Wiesel why he hasn’t put this to paper. Wiesel tells him the pain is too severe. He’s made a vow of silence. The older man tells him to break it and speak out.

The evening changed them both. The drama became the soil of a lifelong friendship. They corresponded until Mauriac’s death in 1970. “I owe Francois Mauriac my career,” Wiesel has said…and it was to Mauriac that Wiesel sent the first manuscript of Night.

What if Mauriac had kept the door shut? Would anyone have blamed him? Cut by the sharp words of Wiesel, he could have become impatient with the angry young man and have been glad to be rid of him. But he didn’t and he wasn’t. He reacted decisively, quickly, and lovingly. He was “slow to boil.” And, because he was, a heart began to heal.

May I urge you to do the same?

“God is being patient with you” (2 Peter 3:9). And if God is being patient with you, can’t you pass on some patience to others? Of course you can. Because before love is anything else.

Love is patient.