For I have often told you, and now say again with tears, that many live as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their end is destruction; their god is their stomach; their glory is in their shame. They are focused on earthly things. [Philippians 3:18-19 (HCSB)]
I have a love-hate relationship with my camera and its autofocus. An enormous golden silk spider hangs over the boardwalk we take through the mangroves to the beach. Officially the Nephila clavipes, the female of this species is the largest non-tarantula-like spider in North America. This impressive arachnid has spun her giant orb-like web high above the walkway. She often scares tourists when they glance up to see her suspended above their heads. While I managed to get a shot that of spider, I’d hoped to get a few more of others that have spun their webs down closer to the boardwalk. Autofocus, however, was my enemy. Because their webs were nestled in the trees, the camera looked right through the spiders and focused on the large branches and leaves behind them. My camera focused only on the spider when nothing was behind the creature, but it had plenty on which to focus when pointed at the spiders in the mangroves. The ease of having a small point-and-shoot camera that is so easy to use keeps me loving (but occasionally hating) it.
Similar to a camera with autofocus, we occasionally focus on the wrong things in life. The consequences, however, are far worse than a few blurry photos. Like my camera, we look at the big things in the background—the unimportant things—rather than what is right in front of us. We automatically focus on all that we lack rather than the little that we have, on all that’s wrong rather than what is right, and on the doors that are shut rather than the door that is open. We worry about our tomorrows rather than focusing on today and see all of the reasons we can’t rather than the reason we can. We focus on the mistakes of yesterday rather the possibility of tomorrow and how bad we are rather than how great our God is. In short, we focus on the world instead of focusing on God. He’s right there in front of us but, sometimes, all that other stuff in the background keeps us from seeing Him! We need to set our autofocus on God and His promises rather than the world and our problems.
Focus on giants – you stumble. Focus on God – Giants tumble. [Max Lucado]
When trouble comes, focus on God’s ability to care for you. [Charles Stanley]
“Biology!? Math!? English! AAHH!” groans Nancy in a recent one of Guy Gilchrist’s comics. “I shouldn’t have to memorize anything I can Google!!” she protests with a frown. Oh, I feel your pain, Nancy; indeed, I do! Were it not for my Bible’s concordance and Google, I’d be hard put to include Bible verses in my devotions. I can manage to remember the gist of many verses but don’t ask me for chapter or verse and you’d better not quote me because my words won’t be exact. If quizzed on Scripture, I definitely would need an open book test and, like Nancy, would much prefer having access to Google.
An illustration of a man stooped over with an enormous sack on his back adorned the cover of the church program. The man had a troubled look on his face as if thinking, “I’ve got this all this, now what I am supposed to do with it?” The words “Life does not consist in the abundance of possessions,” were superimposed over the picture.
Like many, I mistook the phrase, “just deserts” for “just desserts.” The phrase comes from a now obsolete meaning of the word “desert” which was something deserved or merited. However we spell or say it, we tend to take a certain amount of pleasure when our enemies, adversaries, and those people who manage to make our lives difficult or downright miserable get what they deserve. “Poetic justice,” we say while watching them reap the consequences of their actions. Bad attitudes, excess drama, inappropriate behavior, substandard performance, selfishness, pettiness, laziness and insubordination all have a way of catching up with people. It’s hard to have any sympathy for them when they end up in a world of hurt of their own making. Jesus doesn’t tell us we have to be sympathetic but He does say we have to love and pray for them! We don’t have to allow their poison to seep into our lives, make excuses for them, enable them, tolerate horrible behavior, or become embroiled in their drama, but we do have to love and pray!
Last January, an official in a northern city was found guilty of twenty counts of bribery, extortion, and conspiracy along with mail, wire and tax fraud. His crimes netted him over $2 million in ill-gotten gains. Last month, he was sentenced for those crimes and, while he didn’t protest his innocence, he did protest his punishment. His crimes were merely “ethical mistakes” made because he was inexperienced and just doing his job. His lawyer compared his offenses with those of other corrupt officials, asserting his client’s felonies were less criminal so a shorter sentence was in order. In addition, he wasn’t really all that guilty since, in spite of his dishonesty, the city still managed to collect over $700 million in fines from the program he managed. Being just a little guilty, however, is much like being just a little bit pregnant—no matter how you spin it, you’re still guilty or pregnant.
I was right. In fact, I was so right I deserved a gold star and he was so wrong that he should have gotten a big red “F” but he never admitted it. Although I congratulated myself for not saying, “I told you so!” I still wanted him to eat a little humble pie. Then the Holy Spirit did His job and rightly convicted me of being a bit self-righteous and a whole lot mean-spirited. I was reminded of Luther, a man from our church who I called “a disciple of Christ” in a previous devotion. He always greeted people with a smile and the phrase, “Jesus loves you and I do, too.” As I heard Luther’s words in my mind, I stopped in mid-gripe and remembered that Jesus loves my man and I do, too.