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The uproar over late night comedian Stephen Colbert’s rant has focused a lot of attention on how far you can go in public discourse. Colbert often talks about his faith and I do not doubt his sincerity. However, I would challenge him to take a look at what Scripture has to say about the words we say and the power they have. That is an uncomfortable challenge I have taken.  I have included an excerpt from my new book Waking Up Slowly about the power of words.

When it comes to social media people seem to be on the attack all the time. We say truly ugly things and assign terrible motives to people we don’t know. I quit going negative on social media many years ago. I affirm where I can and stay silent when I cannot. I just don’t understand what satisfaction people get from savaging someone or something from the safe bunker of the Internet. Maybe I should invent a program that prompts you to pray before you hit send?

The meaning of words can change over the years. Sometimes we diminish the power of words by overuse and misuse. One annoying example for me is the word awesome. If a breakfast sandwich is awesome, then what descriptor can you possibly pull out for a sunset that evening? Another word I would like to reclaim and limit is hate. Hate is a powerful and deeply affecting word. But we toss it around so casually that it makes me wince. We hate everything from Congress to broccoli. I am not sure that this chapter would have made it into this book if my journey had been taken in a non-political year.

I am saddened, sickened, disturbed, and frightened at how the word hate is being hurled in our national discourse. Red-faced people running for office spew vitriol at those they disagree with. It can be an honest and complicated issue that candidates are reacting to, but they reduce the debate to hating their opponents.

Author James Baldwin made this insightful observation: “I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.”

Isn’t that the truth? It is so much easier to demonize than understand. It is up to me and to you to change the discourse. We need to start by allowing God to be the one who defines hate. After all, He does have that righteous and holy thing on His resume.

In the Book of Proverbs, there is a list of seven things that God hates.

eyes that are arrogant,

a tongue that lies,

hands that murder the innocent,

a heart that hatches evil plots,

feet that race down a wicked track,

a mouth that lies under oath,

a troublemaker in the family.   (Proverbs 6:17-19, The Message)

It is heartbreaking that we, the body of Christ, have communicated a very different list of what we think God hates most. Perhaps we do that because the list above deals with the darkness in our own hearts. It is far easier to judge sin that isn’t my issue, instead of the painful work of confronting my own sin. As Philip Yancey wisely observes, “Christians get very angry toward other Christians who sin differently than they do.”

And, inexplicably, we get incredibly angry at people who sin, but who do not share our hope in Jesus. What in the world do we expect them to do? Isn’t that part of why God graciously allows us another day, so that we can be light to those who do not share our faith?

Shouldn’t step one for me and for you as believers be to see how many items on this list that God hates still lurks in my own heart? Does this list look anything like the list of things that we say God hates to many non-churchgoers? To be sure, there are other sins that go against God’s perfect plan and Word. But the consistent thing that I keep confronting is that He is annoyingly more concerned about my heart than the actions of others. God is not attention deficit and I cannot distract Him with a shiny sign condemning someone else’s sin. The politician’s favorite tact of justifying bad behavior with other bad behavior does not work with a holy God. Frankly, I am grateful He loves me too much to give me a pass on my blindness.

Pastor Mark Mitchell is one of many people who has reflected on Rabbi Joseph Telushkin’s assessment of the power of words.

Rabbi Telushkin, author of Words That Hurt, Words That Heal, has lectured throughout this country on the powerful, often negative impact of words. He often asks audiences if they can go 24 hours without saying any unkind words about, or to, another person. Invariably, a small number of listeners raise their hands, signifying “Yes.” Others laugh, and quite a few call out, “No!”

Telushkin responds, “Those who can’t answer ‘yes’ must recognize that you have a serious problem. If you can’t go 24 hours without drinking liquor, you’re addicted to alcohol. If you can’t go 24 hours without smoking, you’re addicted to nicotine. So if you can’t go 24 hours without saying unkind words about others, then you’ve lost control over your tongue.”

Perhaps I am more finely tuned because of this journey to connect more with God and others, but it seems that people talk a lot about things and people that they detest. Hate is a very serious word to use when talking about anyone, and especially another believer. As Christians, we simply do not have that option.

If someone says, “I love God,” but hates a fellow believer, that person is a liar; for if we don’t love people we can see, how can we love God, whom we cannot see?  1 John 4:20

If anyone claims, “I am living in the light,” but hates a fellow believer, that person is still living in darkness. 1 John 2:9

Ouch. It’s very clear—and uncomfortable to hear—that I need to pray for those I disagree with in the faith community.

But beyond that, I think we need to be extraordinarily prayerful about throwing the hate card at anyone. I would suggest that we often allow ourselves to slip from hating the sin to hating the sinner as well. A wise man tells us that “the fear of the Lord is hatred of evil. Pride and arrogance and the way of evil and perverted speech I hate” (Proverbs 8:13).

All of those—pride, arrogance, the way of evil, and perverted speech—are attitudes, not folks. We have a really hard time separating those two and we need to be cautious about flinging around the “hate the sin and not the sinner” cliché. I need to work at that distinction in love.

We certainly see the first half of this Proverb played out every day on cable news.

Hatred stirs up strife,
but love covers all offenses.
(Proverbs 10:12)

The second half of this Proverb has been demonstrated by a few brave souls in my lifetime. Martin Luther King Jr. had some legitimate reasons to hate, but he chose not to. His words have not lost their power: “I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear.”

Another courageous African-American, Booker T. Washington, made a similar choice. “I will permit no man to narrow and degrade my soul by making me hate him.”

I know there are some people who are so evil that they seem unredeemable outside of a true miracle. But I have found the majority of folks that disagree with me are generally decent people, when I take the time to hear their stories and get to know them. We hate people we don’t know and, without a doubt, that suspicious attitude prevents us from ever engaging with them.

I have decided to severely curtail my use of the word hate. I am making the choice to permit no man to degrade my soul by making me hate. And for the spiritual hall monitors, be aware that I am not going squishy on sin. There are actions, attitudes, and sins that I hate.

I have to remind myself that the actions that make me angry are the result of our fallen nature and sin. Hating people will not fix either of those issues. I can’t influence hearts by using inflammatory words. Words do matter. A lot.

 

Twitter makes cowards courageous. The anonymity of cyberspace can make the mean spirited downright evil. I have watched with sadness as Twitter tyrants have destroyed or severely damaged people and institutions. Sometimes the venom is directed at those who simply have a sincere difference of opinion on moral issues. Nothing seems to generate more glee than a Christian leader or institution failing.

Without fail the hypocrite word is used with smug satisfaction.

And it is true. Let me make this personal since I can only speak honestly for me. I am a hypocrite. I do not consistently live up to the teachings of Jesus. I fail. I sin. That is why I need a Savior and not a self-help course. I am confident not in my holiness but in the holiness of Jesus. I remember hearing a pastor say that “we all sin and fall short of the glory of God. But that doesn’t keep us from comparing distances.”

That is exactly what I used to do and still do when I forget why Jesus found it necessary to die for me! I was comparing distances between my own sinful judgement and comments about other people against what I was hearing about another person or place. I condemned without knowing anything about that person’s wounds or struggles. I would self-righteously note that at least I haven’t said something that offensive or done that bad thing! I am not as bad as them!

So what?

God’s Word says I am condemned when I judge, idolize, lie and covet. It doesn’t matter whether it is less offensive than another person’s actions. Whether I fall a millimeter short or miles short is meaningless. I have fallen short. I am a desperate sinner in need of a Savior. Today I asked for the Holy Spirit to examine my heart. I am not responsible for the comments of others. I am accountable for my comments and thoughts before the One who went to Cross to win my forgiveness.

Earlier in this space I wrote about a familiar passage from the Gospel of John. I wondered how Jesus might respond to today’s condemning cyber-mobs. Here is a modern version of a well known story.

A crowd soon gathered, and He (Jesus) sat down and taught them. As He was speaking, the teachers of politically correct speech brought a woman who had been caught in the act of hateful speech. They put her in front of the crowd.

“Teacher,” they said to Jesus, “this woman was caught in the very act of intolerance and hate speech. We say she should be fired, disgraced, and shunned. What do you say?”

They were trying to trap Him into saying something they could use against Him, but Jesus stooped down and looked at the device in His hand. They kept demanding an answer, so He typed a message that appeared on every device in the crowd simultaneously. They read the message on their screen.  “All right, but let the one who has never unfairly judged another and who has never said an ugly untruth about another send the first Tweet!” Then he looked down and typed something else.

When the accusers read this, they slipped away one by one, beginning with the oldest, until only Jesus was left in the middle of the crowd with the woman. Then Jesus stood up again and said to the woman, “Where are your accusers? Didn’t even one of them condemn you?”

“No, Lord,” she said.

And Jesus said, “Neither do I. Remember that every person is precious in My sight and that I loved them enough to endure the Cross. Go and sin no more.”

Forgive me for taking liberties with such an amazing text. But I think it brings it home for us that I (and you) are just like that mob who dragged the woman to Jesus.

Lord Jesus,

Forgive me for my judgement of others. Forgive me for my ugly thoughts. Forgive me for my mean comments about those you love dearly.  And thank you for still loving me in spite of the ugly reality of my own sin. I fall on your grace today. Please remind me to use these gifts of communication only to edify, encourage and inspire.

Thank you for loving me. Help me to love others in the power of Your Amazing Grace.

Amen

Waking Up Slowly is my personal journey to become more connected to God, others and myself. I would love for you to join me on this journey.

(I wanted to share a little excerpt from Waking Up Slowly. I hope you enjoy it!)

I have everything I need as a follower of Christ to be content. Yet I wander looking for something new or the latest trend in the church. What I was looking for in every book, program, study, and event was the sweet Gospel of unconditional love, unmerited forgiveness, and complete acceptance. I was looking for grace. This line from poet Nancy Spiegelberg may be the most indicting summary of my misunderstanding of grace for decades.

Lord I crawled across the barrenness to you with my empty cup uncertain in asking any small drop of refreshment. If only I had known you better I’d have come running with a bucket.

I wish that everyone who hears the gospel message would comprehend the love that God demonstrates to everyone who will receive that love. Instead of turning His back on sinners who deserved just that, God chose to reach out to you and me with a radical plan for forgiveness. A plan that is unlike any other religion in history. Manmade religion always demands something to earn salvation. God’s plan of redemption requires the lost to bring nothing to the table other than sin and need. Nothing. Any other presentation of the sweet gospel of Jesus Christ is a lie.

God saved you by his grace when you believed. And you can’t take credit for this; it is a gift from God. Salvation is not a reward for the good things we have done, so none of us can boast about it.

Ephesians 2:8-9

Not a single requirement other than believing. A gift of grace. Grace that is so vast and inexhaustible that no sin or sinner can exceed the scope of this amazing grace to cover their sin and offer redemption. I coined an acronym for grace that only partially captures the enormity of God’s love.

God’s Radical And Complete Embrace.

God radically offers complete forgiveness embraces me as His child. That is exactly the picture that Scripture paints in the story of the Prodigal Son. The son rebelled, sinned, and suffered the horrible consequences of his actions. The son realized his sin and in humble desperation decides to throw himself on the mercy of his father, believing he had lost all his privileges of being a son.

But nothing had changed for his father. It reads like a Hollywood story of tear-jerking redemption. A child who is lost and hopeless. A father who never quits believing in and loving his son. The son trudging toward an uncertain homecoming with eyes downcast. Hearing a commotion down the path that sounds like distant shouts of joy. Is it a party at the home that was once his? Then the sound of sandals pounding on dirt causes the lost son to look up. What he saw was one of the most remarkable grace stories in history.

And while he was still a long way off, his father saw him coming. Filled with love and compassion, he ran to his son, embraced him, and kissed him. His son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against both heaven and you, and I am no longer worthy of being called your son.’

“But his father said to the servants, ‘Quick! Bring the finest robe in the house and put it on him. Get a ring for his finger and sandals for his feet. And kill the calf we have been fattening. We must celebrate with a feast, for this son of mine was dead and has now returned to life. He was lost, but now he is found.’ So the party began.

Luke 15:20-24

The father placed the finest robe on his wayward son, most probably his own. The robe that was worn on the most special of occasions. The custom would have been for the son to bathe, don clean clothes, and then put on the robe. But in a stunning gesture of compassion, the father placed his robe over his son’s filthy garments. What a gift of unconditional acceptance. Brokenness and all hope of self-salvation stripped away. We all fall on grace when we are completely honest with our hearts.

The story is the same today. The Father ran to forgive me when I acknowledged my sin and need. While I was still dirty and clothed in filthy garments I was forgiven, accepted, justified, and wrapped in the robe of righteousness. I was no longer condemned. Satan would have me forget that the robe of righteousness is wrapped lovingly around me. The author of lies reminds me (constantly) that I still wear dirty clothing. He suggests that I don’t deserve to wear the robe until I clean myself up. That is the power of this story. The robe of righteousness is never earned. It is a gift of grace. On my worst day the Father wraps me up in this precious garment because of His Son Jesus.

How differently I would live if I remembered that truth every day. I am a saint. I am wrapped in the robe of righteousness. I am a new creature who is forgiven, accepted, and wrapped in this incomprehensible gift of grace. Even in my failure Jesus loves me anyway and just as much.

Life gives me sadness, loss, and loneliness, but when I trust Jesus I have hope in the darkest storm. It is hard to live in a community of grace. Legalism is so much easier than grace because it allows me to assess the situation and apply a verse or assign a task. If that person rejects that biblical admonition or task, then legalism allows me to withdraw because he or she is disobedient. Grace does not give me that option. Grace demands that I move toward the struggle of my brother or sister and not away in judgment. No wonder grace is a tough sell!

Grace wears me out and lifts me up. Grace is frustrating and exhilarating.  My old nature screams that people who make bad decisions over and over get what they “deserve.” They don’t “deserve” to be pursued and loved and restored. They made their bed—now let them lie in it. But there is a small quiet voice in my heart that tells me that they have value. That they are loved by their Creator. And that voice asks who am I to decide who “deserves” anything?

Would you open the outrageous gift of grace and accept it as a mind blowing outpouring of love from a Father who delights in you? Whenever you feel sad, unworthy, stressed, angry, frustrated, or unloved, return to that open gift of inexhaustible grace. And bring a bucket this time.

Taken from Waking Up Slowly by Dave Burchett copyright © 2017. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved.

You can give your Mom or someone special a personally autographed copy of Waking Up Slowly. I have 200 special adhesive autograph plates that I am going to send out to purchasers of Waking Up Slowly for Mother’s Day gifts. What a unique gift for Mother’s Day to give her a personalized and autographed book! I will personalize and sign this adhesive plate and promptly mail it to you. And this offer is not just for Mother’s Day. You can grab a personalized copy for a birthday gift or any special occasion.

Go out and buy a copy of Waking Up Slowly or order online now (this is on the honor system). Email me at dave@daveburchett.com and tell me where you bought it, how you want it signed and where you want it mailed. No receipts required. Simple. The cutoff date for Mother’s Day is May 8th or whenever I run out of plates.

Don’t miss out on this unique and special gift for Mom. This offer will end soon so fetch your copy today!

You can read an excerpt, watch the video, read reviews or order at WakingUpSlowly.com.

There is much written about Good Friday. The sacrifice of Jesus Christ on the Cross is incomprehensible to my puny human intellect. There is much written about Easter Sunday. Christians around the world rejoice and proclaim that “He is risen!”. But there is not nearly as much written about one of the saddest and most confusing days in history. The Saturday between the Friday horror of Jesus on the Cross and the Sunday mystery of the resurrection. Some churches do observe Holy Saturday but it was never a tradition in my faith upbringing.

I have been thinking about what that day must have been like for those who dropped everything to follow Jesus. How crushing those events had to be. I imagine the fear they felt that they would also be killed. And for what? On Saturday they feared they had given their careers and their very souls for a false hope.

I think in particular of Peter. I identify so much with him. Like him I throw down bold statements of loyalty to the Lord and then betray them. Like him I draw attention to my own accomplishments instead of recognizing where my accomplishments come from. Like Peter I am a generally sincere but desperately needy follower of Jesus.

You know the story about Peter before the arrest and mock trial of Jesus. Jesus tells Peter that he will deny him three times before the rooster crows at dawn. For many years I breezed by the setup to that prediction.

“Simon (Peter), Satan has asked to sift each of you like wheat. But I have pleaded in prayer for you, Simon, that your faith should not fail. So when you have repented and turned to me again, strengthen your brothers.” (Luke 22, NLT)

Jesus had already prayerfully pleaded for Peter to be used in a powerful and redemptive way before the failure, shame and repentance that Jesus knew was about to happen. Our sin does not take Jesus by surprise. Why does His grace and forgiveness surprise us?

Like me, Peter did not hear the tender words of encouragement from the Lord. Nope. He blustered.

“Lord, I am ready to go to prison with you, and even to die with you.”

After the arrest of Jesus a suddenly less bold Peter followed the crowd. He denied to a servant girl that he knew Jesus. He denied his alliance to another bystander. The crushing sorrow and shame of what happened next is hard to fathom.

About an hour later someone else insisted, “This must be one of them, because he is a Galilean, too.”

But Peter said, “Man, I don’t know what you are talking about.” And immediately, while he was still speaking, the rooster crowed.

At that moment the Lord turned and looked at Peter. Suddenly, the Lord’s words flashed through Peter’s mind: “Before the rooster crows tomorrow morning, you will deny three times that you even know me.” And Peter left the courtyard, weeping bitterly.

I imagined what the expression might have been on the face of Jesus when He turned and looked. I suspect it was a look of sadness, compassion and longing to comfort His friend. But what Peter probably saw was only disappointment and failure. Peter’s tears likely flowed until they could no longer flow. I suspect it was hard to even breathe. His heart literally ached within his chest. His mind could not imagine any future hope. I wonder if he thought about running away or even ending it all. I wonder if he could think at all.

That Saturday was one of the worst days in history and Peter may have felt the pain of that awful day more intensely than anyone. He did not know what would happen the next day. Peter did not yet understand what Jesus had been telling him.

When Luke recounts that Jesus appeared to the Disciples the only one mentioned by name is Peter. What gives me hope this Easter season is the tender story of Jesus affirming and reinstating Peter to be a leader who would “feed His sheep”. That is the grace that changes a heart.

I can betray Jesus. Ignore Him. Live selfishly. At some point I once again recognize my desperate need for Jesus to rescue me. For the one millionth time I turn to Him. And what happens? He lifts my shame bowed head and looks deeply into my eyes. He tells me how much He loves me. That is grace. That is real. That is love. Maybe I won’t have a day quite as bad as Peter on that horrible dark Saturday but his story of redemption encourages me this Easter season.

Saturday was terrible. But Sunday was coming with the wonderful news that He is risen! He is risen for me! Jesus is pleading for me that my faith will not fail. What a joyous hope for all of us this Easter.

 

Sometimes we wonder if God is still there. Sometimes we wonder if He really cares about what is happening in our lives. Sometimes we wonder if it will ever get any better.

Those are questions that every honest follow of Jesus has wrestled with. My friend Bart Millard of MercyMe was pondering those questions when he wrote one of the most powerful songs from their amazing new record Lifer. I found it interesting that in the same time frame I was writing a chapter about doubt in my new book Waking Up Slowly.

Bart can write in a stanza what it takes me hundreds of rambling words to say. But both of us experience the same struggle. We share the hope of grace. We write and sing about how our identity is not worldly success but who we are in Christ and who God says we are because of that relationship. You should be extremely grateful that Bart Millard is the one who sings. We both try to communicate that on your worst day you are loved and cherished by the Father.

But when you write about grace and identity you know that life and/or the Enemy will give you a pop quiz. The lyrics from Even If are powerful

It’s easy to sing
When there’s nothing to bring me down
But what will I say
When I’m held to the flame
Like I am right now

I know you’re able
And I know you can
Save through the fire
With your mighty hand
But even if you don’t
My hope’s still you alone.

As I finished the final edit for Waking Up Slowly I had my test. And I had to decide if the words I was about to share with you in a hardcover book with a pretty cover were true in my own life. I remember talking to my sweet wife about the situation.

“Nothing that happens in my life is a surprise to God. So I will either receive blessings I never expected from this, I will grow in my faith, or a combination of those two.”

“Is that how you feel?” Joni quizzed.

“NOPE!” I responded honestly. “But that is what I am trusting and if I keep believing those truths my feelings will follow.”

I can tell you that they have. God has been present. I have seen His hand in so many ways. I wrote these words in a chapter called The Doubt Bout about my own struggles.

I am drawn to Jesus. I believe that God decided to redeem man through this outlandish plan. No religion offers redemption without works other than the gospel of Jesus. I believe I have seen His hand over and over in my life. But if I am wrong and had the opportunity to live my life over again, I can honestly say I would change nothing.

I consider a life pursuing the impossible goal of becoming like Jesus to be more valuable than any honor or possession I could attain. The teachings of Jesus are so amazing and so radical that I cannot imagine that any man could have imagined them. If you drill down into just His words you will find a sacred pathway that is worth seeking.

Because I have followed the teachings of Jesus, I believe my marriage is still intact. I don’t say that lightly. I honestly believe that without that faith commitment, Joni and I would not have survived. Whatever kind things that my friends and colleagues might say about me are in large part due to how I believe I should respond to them based on the words of Christ. I have been shaped and matured by this radical Rabbi who changed history. He changed me.

The Christian Gospel is that I am so flawed that Jesus had to die for me, yet I am so loved and valued that Jesus was glad to die for me. This leads to deep humility and deep confidence at the same time. It undermines both swaggering and sniveling. I cannot feel superior to anyone, and yet I have nothing to prove to anyone. I do not think more of myself nor less of myself. Instead, I think of myself less. ~ Tim Keller, The Reason For God

I have been changed by these truths. I have confronted my doubts and I have chosen to stay focused on the claims of this Rabbi from Nazareth. If I am wagering my eternity, I choose to wager on Jesus.

Taken from Waking Up Slowly by Dave Burchett copyright © 2017. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc. All rights reserved.

Jesus is not an easy choice at times. The Apostle John wrote that many followers were deserting Jesus after some difficult teaching.

At this point many of his disciples turned away and deserted him. Then Jesus turned to the Twelve and asked, “Are you also going to leave?”
Simon Peter replied, “Lord, to whom would we go? You have the words that give eternal life. We believe, and we know you are the Holy One of God.” (John 6:66-68, NLT)

Indeed. I plant my flag of faith on that hill of eternal truth. Jesus is my hope. Even if…

I know you’re able
And I know you can
Save through the fire
With your mighty hand
But even if you don’t
My Hope’s still you alone
I know the sorrow
I know the hurt
Would all go away
If you’d just say the word
But even if you don’t
My hope’s still you alone

I am trusting that today.