Smyrna: The Tested Church

This is the second post I'm writing in a series about the letters to the seven churches of Asia in Revelation 2-3. Last week we looked at the letter to the church at Ephesus, and today it's on to the church in Smyrna. Here's what Jesus says in Revelation 2:8-11:

To the angel of the church in Smyrna write: These are the words of him who is the First and the Last, who died and came to life again. I know your afflictions and your poverty--yet you are rich! I know the slander of those who say they are Jews and are not, but are a synagogue of Satan. Do not be afraid of what you are about to suffer. I tell you, the devil will put some of you in prison to test you, and you will suffer persecution for ten days. Be faithful, even to the point of death, and I will give you the crown of life. He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. He who overcomes will not be hurt at all by the second death.

The letter to the church at Smyrna is an interesting one. In most of the letters, there is some kind of warning given in which Jesus tells the church to repent and change in some way. But in two of the letters--Smyrna and Philadelphia--there is no such warning. In this letter, Jesus doesn't say "I know your deeds" and then go on to explain how the church isn't living up to what it should be. Instead, he says, "I know your afflictions."

Smyrna was a church under pressure. They were suffering. They were persecuted. They were afflicted. They were following Christ, and Satan was coming at them because of it. They were slandered by others in the community and even faced the prospect of death because of their faith. And yet, in spite of this, they had continued to hang in there. They endured.

But Jesus knew what they were experiencing. He says, "I know your afflictions." I think there may be a couple different layers to this. Of course Jesus had knowledge that the church at Smyrna was suffering. But he knew their affliction in a deeper way. He knew it because he too had experienced it. He too was slandered and accused and beaten. He was even killed in the most gruesome terms. Jesus hasn't asked his church to go where he hasn't already blazed a trail. He knows the church's suffering because he has suffered and is present with us in our suffering. And that's a comfort truth, I think.

Another comforting truth is that there is something else on the other side of suffering. The church's afflictions aren't the end of the story. The beginning of this letter identifies Jesus as the one who had died and come back to life. The cross wasn't the end of Jesus' story because he bust out of the tomb three days later. And suffering isn't the church's end because there is a crown of life waiting on the other side. In verse 10, Jesus said that the Smyrnans (?) would suffer for ten days. This is a symbolic number drawn from Daniel 1, where Daniel and his three friends, while captive in Babylon, are tested for ten days of eating only vegetables. The meaning? Ten stands for a period of testing that has a limit. The testing doesn't go on forever. And just as Daniel went through ten days of testing to come out successfully on the other side, the church at Smyrna would go through persecution for a time to burst out in glory on the other side.

It's really difficult for me to draw very good applications from this passage for the contemporary American church. The church at Smyrna experienced some serious persecution and suffering for their faith. Their lives were literally at stake. It seems a little presumptuous for me to compare my own conditions to theirs. American churches are facing the same situations that they were.

But nevertheless, even American believers do suffer. It might look different than it did two thousand years ago. But being a follower of Jesus always comes with a cost. It might be vocational, relational, or financial. A person's reputation might be spoiled because of a decision for Christ. It might mean leaving behind a life of comfort and ease for something less cozy. When we face these kinds of circumstances, what comfort can we draw from the letter to Smyrna?

Jesus knows our affliction. He's right there with us. And he's been there before. He can guide us through it because he knows the way. He can strengthen us with the same power that brought him back from the dead (Eph. 1:18-20). We can get through the crap of life because God gives us a vision of what's waiting for us.

And everyone looks better in a crown.

Ephesus: The Orthodox Church

I've decided to try a little experiment. For the next few weeks, I will be writing a specific series of posts on the letters to the seven churches in Revelation 2-3. I've done series of posts before, but never one that will take this long. But these seven letters in Revelation are really interesting I think, and they're definitely worth taking a good look at. So for a little while, I'll be looking at each letter at a time, trying to see how our churches, or even our personal lives, might look a lot like these ancient churches, and also trying to see how these letters challenge, encourage, and guide us in our own lives and faiths.

One other note: a lot of my thoughts on Revelation are due to the Revelation class I took under Shane Wood at Ozark.

The first letter that Jesus gives through the apostle John is to the church at Ephesus. Here's what it says in Revelation 2:1-7:

To the angel of the church in Ephesus write: These are the words of him who holds the seven stars in his right hand and walks among the seven golden lampstands: I know your deeds, your hard work and your perseverance. I know that you cannot tolerate wicked men, that you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not, and have found them false. You have persevered and have endured hardships for my name, and have not grown weary. 

Yet I hold this against you: You have forsaken your first love. Remember the height from which you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first. If you do not repent, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place. But you have this in your favor: You hate the practices of the Nicolaitans, which I also hate.

He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To him who overcomes, I will give the right to eat from the tree of life, which is in the paradise of God.

As in several (but not all) of the letters in Revelation 2-3, this one starts with a commendation. The Ephesians are commended for their perseverance and hard work. They are careful to test those who might be false teachers. They guard their doctrine closely. It seems like the leaders there had taken seriously Paul's warning to shepherd the church and be on guard against "savage wolves" (Acts 20:25-31). The Ephesians staunchly defend the faith against those who seek to distort it, including the Nicolaitans that are mentioned in the letter.

But not everything in Ephesus is as it should be. They are criticized for having forsaken their first love. It's not entirely clear what this means, but it's likely that it includes both love for God and love for others--two loves that go hand in hand anyway (1 Jn. 4:19-21). After all, this is at the center of Christian ethics. Jesus himself the injunctions to love God and love your neighbors as the two most important commandments. And the Ephesians had forgotten that. They were doing great on maintaining the truth of their faith, but they had forgotten to practice love. And without love, the good things we do really aren't that helpful (1 Cor. 13).

So what can we learn from the letter to the Ephesians?

You can have all your doctrinal ducks in a row and still be missing the big picture.

The Ephesians had their doctrine down. They were orthodox. But they were missing love. And there's still churches like that today--who do an awesome job of defending sound theology and doctrine but who do it with a hardened heart. And maybe we do that as individual Christians. I think that Bible college or seminary students are especially susceptible to this. You begin your academic career filled with a passion for God, for his Word, and for serving the world. But after a few years of study, you've forgotten your "first love," even though you dedicate great energy to writing sound doctrinal sermons or critiquing the latest theological fad.

Jesus' word to the Ephesians, and maybe to us as well, is to recapture the love. This doesn't mean that we abandon sound doctrine. No need to throw out the baby with the bathwater. But we may need to take a step back and remember why it is that we do what we do. It's out of a love for our Creator and for his creatures.

And what's the promise to the Ephesians if they repent and get the love back? They get to eat from the tree of life.

It is autumn, after all. Who doesn't want a good apple? Or pie....or cider....

Snack time.

Child of God

"How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!"
-1 John 3:1

I think that verse from 1 John is one of the most wonderful statements in the entire Bible. We are children of God! It's actually a pretty common description of our relation to God that we find in Scripture. God is our Father, and we are his sons and daughters. Over the past week or so, I have been thinking about all of the various implications of this truth.

When approaching this topic, it's sadly necessary to point out that a lot of people have major problems with the idea of God being their father because they then view God in light of their own biological father, who may not be a good person at all. But thankfully, the fatherhood of good isn't based on the crappy fathers that exist in the world. God is what a father should be. A lot of fathers come nowhere near this, but this doesn't diminish the wonderful truth of the kind of father God is and what it means for us to be his children. So here's a few ideas that are associated with our identity as sons and daughters of God:

God's love for us isn't based on what we do or don't do
A child shouldn't have to earn his father's love, and thankfully, we don't have to try to earn God's love. In fact, it is impossible for us to earn God's love. Nothing we do or fail to do merits God's favor. But he loves us in spite of the things we do. Our sin doesn't disqualify us from God's love. That's what it's like in a strong parent-child relationship. A child might spit in his dad's face and do anything he can against him, but the father still love him because he is his son. It's like the the father in the parable of the prodigal son in Luke 15. The son takes a good chunk of his father's money and quickly loses it in what the Bible delicately calls "wild living." When the son comes back, dirty and ashamed, the father rushes out to him, wraps his arms around him, and throws a party because his lost son had come home. The disrespect the son had shown the father didn't affect the father's love. How liberating it is to know that we don't have to earn spiritual merit badges to get our heavenly father to care for us.

God's love doesn't stop
At no point does a good father stop and say, "You know what? I used to really love my child, but I think I'm over that." A father's love lasts forever, regardless of what happens. There isn't an expiration date on his love. That's how it is with God's love for us too. There is nothing that can stop God from loving us. Even if we don't care about his love, he continues to love. Even though the world is a big crazy place and he might have a lot of crises on his plate, he loves us. Paul famously writes in Romans 8:38-39 that "neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Nothing can come between the Father's love for us. It reminds me of the movie Taken and how the Father never stopped searching for his daughter, regardless of who or what got in his way. Getting between that father and his daughter was a dangerous place to be. Satan may try to separate us from God's love. But I don't think it'll work out too well for him either.

God doesn't guilt-trip us
When a good father looks at his child, he doesn't immediately think about all of the way that child has disappointed him. A father forgives, and then that is the end of the matter. He doesn't say, "Now Billy, remember how you took those cookies from the cookie jar and then lied about it four months ago? Don't you still feel bad about that?" And yet, some people think that's exactly what God does. They think that God is always there to remind us of the ways we have messed up, and this live with an unbearable sense of guilt, even though God has forgiven them. But I don't think that's God's voice pouring guilt into their ears. It's Satan, the accuser. As children of God, we can live free from guilt because Jesus Christ has already paid our penalty. Romans 8:1 says that "there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." God has removed our guilt, so that now there is no one there to accuse and condemn us (Rom. 8:33-34).

We have an inheritance
Galatians 4 has a lot of incredible material about what it means to be a child of God, and one of the points that it brings out is that children receive an inheritance. In this chapter, Paul contrasts children with slaves. In Christ, we are no longer slaves, but are rather made sons and daughters of God, and he writes in Galatians 4:7, "So you are no longer a slave, but a son, and since you are a son, God has made you also an heir." Later in the chapter, he uses an allegory that considers the son of Hagar (a slave) and Sarah (a child of promise). Verse 30 says that "the slave woman's son will never share in the inheritance with the free woman's son." As God's children, we look forward to "an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade--dept in heaven for you" (1 Pet. 1:4; cf. Matt. 25:34). Our Father won't leave us out in the cold. And that's something to get pretty dang excited about, I think.

We can approach God without fear
A child should have no qualm about coming to his father about anything. There is an intimacy between father and child, and Scripture tells us that, because of Christ, we have that same kind of intimacy with God. Galatians 4:6 says, "Because you are sons, God sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, the Spirit who calls out, 'Abba, Father.'" We can come to him with any problem at any time, and he welcomes us with open arms. A child doesn't have to go to a "professional" to take a request to his father for him. He doesn't have to go through a mediator. An amazing truth is that God wants us to come to him. He is always ready to hear us. He wants us to communicate with him freely and openly. Hebrews 4:16 says we can "approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." The creator of the universe is also our loving Father. Sweet.

We should begin to look something like God
Before you come to apartment and drag me out so that you can take me to the street corner and denounce me as a heretic, let me make it clear that I'm not saying that we become gods or anything like that. But as God's children, we should begin to resemble him in some ways. We use phrases such as "Like father like son" and "A chip off the ol' block" to talk about how children resemble their parents. For an example, here's a picture of my dad and me. As I have gotten older (and decided to also grow a goatee), a lot of people say that we look alike. (Which I take to mean that we both look freakin' good in a tux.) When people look at me, they can see something of my father in me. And as Christians, when the world looks at us, they should see something of God in us. In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says, "Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect" (Matt. 5:48; cf. 1 Pet. 1:15-16). As God's Spirit works in us to sanctify us, we are molded and shaped so that we reflect the holy character of God.

What are other implications of being a son or daughter of God? What benefit of being God's child are you most grateful for or astounded by?

On a final note, if you have some time check out the story that ESPN's Outside the Lines did about Joplin here, and continue to pray for Joplin. I love that city.

The D-Heff Show

If you're anything like me, sometimes you watch a TV show and think, "Man, it would be pretty awesome to be a character on that show." That's the appeal of television, of course. All of these shows portray an imaginative image of life. Even what we call "reality shows" are anything but real. No matter how much you might want it to be so, the truth is that real life just isn't like your favorite sitcom. Here's a few ways in which this is true:

1. Real conversations aren't full of memorable witticisms

I think a good sense of humor is one of the most important qualities a person can have. I like to be around funny people, and I hope that at least on occasion, people find me humorous as well. But no matter how funny your friends and you might be, you're not funny all the time. But that's not how it is in a sitcom. In a sitcom, a conversation consists of perfectly timed puns and wisecracks. Awkward smalltalk doesn't exist in a sitcom. No one wants to watch a group of friends sitting around a table and talking about how there's construction on I-75 or about how it's been an unusually warm weekend for October. But in reality, such conversations are common. You have to talk about such mundane things sometimes because, well, sometimes there just isn't much else to say. Every other sentence can't be a clever joke. Which leads to the second point:

2. Sometimes you'll say something you think is funny, and no one will laugh

We've all been there before. You're at dinner with friends, and you formulate some quip in your head that you just know is the most hilarious thing that has ever been uttered in human speech. In your head, it's amazing. But once it leaves your mouth, you realize that it's not funny at all. It's moronic, in fact. It doesn't even make sense. And instead of standing and taking a bow to the uproarious, you sit in shame as everyone gives you an uneasy glance and continues with their conversation as if you had said nothing. Of course, an even more embarrassing situation is when no one laughs at your joke except you. You don't want to be the guy who laughs at his own corny jokes. On a sitcom, though, this isn't a problem. After any moment that is intended to be funny, the laughtrack gives its approval. Wouldn't it be nice if real life came with a laughtrack? Maybe I should keep a speaker in my back pocket so that whenever I say something no one laugh at, I can hit a button and receive that immediate affirmation of a kind laugh. It would be a real ego-booster.

3. You have responsibilities and a job

Now, most characters in a sitcom also have a job. But have you ever noticed how rarely they are actually there? (Not including shows like The Office, of course). Sitcoms don't show their characters are work, sitting in a cubicle pushing paper all day. The people in sitcoms are always hanging out in apartments or bars or going on roadtrips. They're never too busy. They don't spend their evenings going to meetings or taking kids to soccer practice or going grocery shopping. They spend them sitting around with their friends or getting into zany predicaments. But that's not what your life is like. You get up at 6:30, go to work all day, and when you get home you're too tired to do much besides sit around and watch a sitcom. Then the next day, you do something similar. You don't have time to spend five nights a week just hanging out with friends. But for a sitcom character, it really doesn't matter much how much time is spent at work. And yet....

4. You don't have unlimited cash flow

For rarely going to work, it seems like very few sitcom characters have major money problems. When one character says, "Hey, let's all go out for a drink," you never hear another character say, "You guys go ahead. I'd better sit this one out. I only make minimum wage, and I haven't paid my electric bill yet this month." I guess old show The Honeymooners would be an exception to this rule, but that's an exception. For the most part, sitcom characters have no worry about finances, and they all live in trendy apartments with a large main room so that all the other characters can come over for parties and the camera can still fit everyone in. They never live in little one-bedroom jobs with absolutely nothing on the walls like I have. 

5. Real world problems can't all be solved in 22 minutes

This is the typical format of a sitcom episode: some situation arises (a crazy inlaw is coming over for Christmas, one character's favorite restaurant is closing, or Cory and Topanga's relationship is on the rocks), then the characters spend the episode trying out futile (yet comical) methods for solving the problem, and in the end everything works out. All of this is contained in a nifty half-hour slot, so that after watching, you are able to go on with your day stress-free. But that's not how real life is. Real life is complicated. Some situations are complex. Your spat with a significant other might last for days, or even weeks. Your jerk boss might continue to be a jerk as long as you work there. Real problems don't all have a definable beginning, middle, and end, all with a snazzy bow on top. Life is messy, and its problems don't all come with commercial breaks so you can go use the restroom before having to deal with it again. Sometimes you just have to hold it.

What are some other ways that life isn't like a sitcom?

Where Friends Come From

A couple months ago, I moved to a new city where I knew next to nobody. As I have written about in previous posts, since then I have been trying to adjust to a new period of my life, and one significant change is in my social life as I have needed to meet new people. In this time, I have thought some about exactly how friendships happen. Do you ever think about that? Take a moment to run through a list of some of your friends, and ask, "How did that person and I become friends?"  You normally don't think much about how your various friendships have developed. You just know that you have friends, and you don't stop to think about how that happened in the first place.

But the truth is that any friendship has to have some sort of beginning. Relationships are created ex nihilo.

So how do friendships happen?

That question is probably asked by more people than one might realize. I would suspect that there are a lot of people that just don't know how to build friendships. (And by "out there," I mean "sitting on my couch and typing on my computer"). I did a little Google search on the topic just a bit ago and found a site that covers "How To Make Friends and Get a Social Life" (www.succeedsocially.com). People want to know how to make friends. So how does it work?

I think it's different for different people. We all have different ways that we tend to make friends.

There are some people who talk their way into friendships. When I say that, I don't mean that they're deceitful or anything like that. I simply mean that there are some who create friendships simply through conversation. They can sit with someone at a coffeeshop and talk and talk forever, and then the two people walk out the door as best buds.

That's not how I roll. Now I try my best to make good conversation with people. I just feel that I'm not all that great at it. I (once again) relate to Donald Miller's sentiment when he writes in A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, "I can get tired when I talk to somebody new, because if there is silence in the conversation, I feel it's my fault." Of course, that isn't a necessary way to feel, but I think it might be a common one for a lot of people. It's an awkward and uncomfortable thing to be around people you don't know well with nothing to do but make conversation. It works for some people, but not so well for others.

What I have come to realize is that, historically, I tend to begin most friendships by sharing a common experience. It happens by doing something together--playing basketball, playing ping-pong or cards, going bowling. (Or maybe it's just that I really like games....) But for me, it's difficult to sit in a room and make small talk for very long. I simply run out of things to say. I need an activity to go along with it.

So what about you? How do you tend to make friends? Are you one of those people who can do it by just by conversing? Do you also prefer to have a common activity with someone? Or do you just stare at someone across the room for a while? Or maybe you just randomly add strangers to your Facebook friends list. (Or maybe you're Google+ list? I'm not cool enough for that yet).

Or maybe it's by reading someone's blog and then sending him Chick-fil-A gift cards. I hear that's a pretty popular method.

The Power of Prayer

Recently I have been reading through Luke's gospel, and the other day I noticed a contrast that is made that I had never noticed before. That probably means that I'm reading more into the text than there actually should be, but even so, I figured it's worth sharing.

One of the reasons that Luke's gospel is interesting is in its structure and the way that Luke arranges the narrative. Luke 9:51 is a turning point in the book: "As the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem." From that point on, Jesus' eyes are fixed on Jerusalem, where he would be arrested, tried, and crucified. For half the book, then, the story is pushing continuously toward Jerusalem and the cross. Jesus has a determined spirit. He is constantly moving forward to Jerusalem, and even though he continues to teach and heal, the story is directly mainly on what would happen at the cross. So from Luke 9:51 on, we see the incredible determination and resoluteness of Jesus as he heads to the cross.

Jesus isn't the only one who had this sense of resoluteness, however. We see the same attitude in his disciple Peter as well. After all, Peter had made some major sacrifices in choosing to follow Jesus. He had left behind his family, friends, and business at the call of Jesus. He brings this truth to the service in Luke 18:28, when he says to Jesus, "We have left all we had to follow you!" And in the upper room on the night before Jesus' crucifixion, Peter even says that he is ready to go to the cross with Jesus. In Luke 22:33, he boldly declares, "Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death." At this point in Luke's narrative, Peter shares the same determination and unflinching steadfastness that Jesus has.

But not long after this, Jesus and Peter look much different in their readiness to go to the cross. Jesus is arrested and continues to demonstrate the resoluteness that characterizes his actions and words throughout Luke. When asked by the priests if he is the Son of God, he says simply, "You are right in saying I am" (Lk. 23:70). Then, when Pilate asks him if he is the king of the Jews, he replies, "Yes, it is as you say," (Lk. 23:3). A defense attorney would probably say that Jesus isn't doing a very good job in defending himself. He doesn't try to dodge around the charges that are presented against him. Instead, he faces the whole ordeal with apparent confidence. He continues to demonstrate great determination. He knows his mission, and he carries it out without turning aside to other possible paths. The Jesus whose eyes had been fixed on the cross since Luke 9:51 carries that cross through the streets, knowing that is why he had come.

Compare that with what happens with Peter. Less than 24 hours earlier, Peter had pronounced that he would go with Jesus even to death. But that's not what happens. Peter doesn't end up on the cross next to Jesus. Instead, he's found in the courtyard of the high priest, and when a little servant girl suspects that Peter is one of Jesus' disciples, he adamantly denies it. Not just once. Three times. The Peter in the courtyard looks a lot different from the Peter in the upper room.

So why the change? Why does Jesus maintain his determined spirit, but Peter forgets his promises and denies Jesus?

I think the answer to these questions comes down to Gethsemane. Between the upper room and the courtyard, Jesus and his disciples go to the Mount of Olives in Luke 22:39-46. And that's where the actions of Jesus and Peter are very different. Jesus spends the time in fervent, intense prayer to his Father. He asks that if it possible, he not need to go to the cross, but he still submits himself to the Father's will. His prayer is so intense that Luke even writes that "his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground." On the night before his resolve will be tested most strongly, Jesus spends significant time in prayer with the Father.

Peter's prayer in Gethsemane doesn't quite look like Jesus'. When they first get there, Jesus tells his disciples, "Pray that you will not fall into temptation." But it's late at night, and the disciples had had a long day of preparing for the Passover, so they were naturally tired. When Jesus goes to them after his prayer, he doesn't find them in prayer. He finds them sleeping, and he has to kick them awake and remind them to pray.

I wonder how Peter's story might have been different if he hadn't slept through Gethsemane. What if he had spent the time in focused prayer as Jesus had? Would he still have denied Jesus in the courtyard? Or would that time in prayer have given him the strength to move forward with the same resolve that Jesus has the next day?

I think we sometimes forget about the power that is available through prayer. It was Jesus' prayer that gave him the inner strength to carry through with the plan God had for him. That night of prayer was like the time it takes for a knight to put on his armor. Peter, on the other hand, neglected that time of prayer, and he was unprepared for the challenges that awaited him.

In his book Power Through Prayer, E.M. Bounds writes, "Prayer is one of the eminent characteristics of strong spiritual leadership. Men of mighty prayer are men of might and mold things. Their power with God has the conquering tread."

The good news for Peter is that his denial wasn't the end of the road, and it's interesting to me to look at how some of the "big" moments in his later ministry were accompanied by prayer. Acts 1:14 says that Peter and the other believers in Jerusalem "all joined together constantly in prayer." Not long after that, Pentecost happens, and Peter preaches a sermon that resulted in three thousand people coming to Christ. In Acts 3, Peter and John are going to the temple to pray when they bump into a crippled beggar, whom Peter then heals. In Acts 10, Peter is on the roof praying when God gives him a vision that leads to him going to Cornelius and sharing Christ with the first Gentile Christian. And in Acts 12, when Peter is miraculously brought out of prison, it is when the "church was earnestly praying to God for him."

I hope we don't neglect the centrality of prayer in our own lives. Whether you preach in a church, help with the youth group, or just strive to be a godly family member and friend, you need prayer. In prayer, we gain the strength to do what God has for us to do. Ignoring prayer is like trying to run a marathon without water. We won't get too far.

Believe me. I run marathons all the time.

Fearfulness to Fearlessness

I'll be honest from the front. The idea for this post didn't originate with me. In fact, this is what my friend Charlie is teaching about to his youth group tomorrow. I don't think many kids from his church read my blog though, so we should be safe.

When you were little, there were a number of things you were probably afraid of. We all have fears of some sort. For me, there were a lot of things. Dogs. The dark. Being kidnapped. Storms. Spiders, bees, and other creepy-crawlies. I was a pretty nervous kid. I couldn't handle horror movies, and still refuse to watch them today.

Now as a pseudo-adult, I have gotten over some of those childhood fears, but now a new crop of fears has taken their place. I still have a number of fears: The unknown future. Becoming a schizophrenic when I'm older. Women.

Tomorrow Charlie will be teaching how, when we come into contact with Jesus, our fearfulness gives way to fearlessness. And when I look at what the Bible has to say on the topic, it certainly seems like that's how it should be. Scripture repeatedly tells us that we don't need to be afraid because we have God on our side. In story after story, someone is told to not be afraid. Here's a few examples:

Hagar is told not to be afraid after being sent away from Abraham and his family (Gen. 21:17)

Moses tells the Israelites not to be afraid when they're sandwiched between the Red Sea and the Egyptian army (Exod. 14:13)

God tells Joshua not to be afraid when he takes of the leadership of Israel after the death of Moses (Josh. 1:9) 

Saul's son Jonathan tells David not to be afraid of Saul, knowing that God will make David the next king (1 Sam. 23:17)

Elisha tells his servant not to be afraid of the surrounding armies because "those who are with us are more than those who are with them" (2 Kgs. 6:16)

Nehemiah tells the Jerusalemites not to be afraid of their enemies and to remember the Lord (Neh. 4:14)

Jesus tells the Twelve not to be afraid of those who kill the body, and also not to be afraid, since they are worth more than sparrows, which God cares for (Mt. 10:26-31)

Jesus tells the disciples not to be afraid when they see him walking on water (Mk. 6:50)

Gabriel reassured Mary by saying "Do not be afraid" (Lk. 1:30)

God speaks to Paul: "Do not be afraid; keep on speaking, do not be silent. For I am with you" (Acts 18:9-10)

The church at Smyrna is told not to be afraid of suffering because they would be given a victor's crown (Rev. 2:10)

All of this is just a small sampling of times when people in the Bible are told to let go of their fear. It happens all over the place. God's people are afraid, but he reassures them and pulls them toward fearlessness because of his presence and work in their lives.

When I was a kid and was faced with a frightening situation, there was one thing that would alleviate my fear--when my dad was around. My dad is a pretty big guy, so when he was near, I knew I had nothing to fear. He wouldn't let a dog maul me. He wouldn't let a stranger snatch me up and stuff me in their trunk. He had my back.

The Bible calls God our Father. That metaphor has a number of layers to it, but I think one truth it communicates is that we don't need to be afraid of anything. A father looks out for his children. So whatever our fears might be--lack of money, relational failure, future plans, telling others about Christ--God is with us. He's our perfect Father, with perfect love and perfect power, and he can take care of our problematic situations. We can remember the words that God spoke to Joshua: "Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go."