Good Works

The UN Refugee Agency says the country of Columbia has hosted 3 million refugees and migrants from neighboring Venezuela. Columbia has also had the second highest number of Internally Displaced Persons, IDPs, in the world. Since 1985, violence and threats from armed groups have caused 6.7 million Columbians to flee their homes and go elsewhere in the country. Almost 20% of Columbia's population have been traumatized by the refugee, migrant or IDP experience. Here's one pastor’s story:

In 1984, Pastor Jose Higinio Licona and his family experienced violent displacement themselves in their hometown. His family owned a 6-acre farm, milked cows, and grew yucca and corn. One evening, when Licona returned from church, he found dozens of uniformed men with guns in his house, nonchalantly sipping his wife's lemonade. They demanded that he join their force. Pastor Jose decided it was time to flee with his family and a few animals. During their flight, they had to sell their animals and food became scarce. They never got their land back. Pastor Licona's current church is small, only about two dozen people. But most of them could report similar stories of loss as IDPs.

Since they were IDPs themselves, Licona's church started helping Venezuelan migrants when they started coming about 4 years ago. They butchered cows and harvested a half ton of yucca. They helped migrants pay rent and apply for temporary protection status. They hosted dinners offering Venezuelan dishes, offered counseling, and shoulders to cry on. They're helping 2,000 Venezuelan migrants who settled in the area. Pastor Jose says helping migrants is instinctive, "How could they not? We are all IDPs!"

This church has given from what little it had. What sacrifice!

Charles Feeney was raised by working-class parents who struggled during the Depression to pay a $32 monthly mortgage. He served in the Air Force and got into the duty-free shopping business. The business went global. Profits were enormous. By the early 1980s he was plowing tax-free annual dividends of $35 million into hotels, land deals, retail shops, and clothing companies. He later invested in tech start-ups and multiplied his income exponentially. By age 50, he had palatial homes in New York, London, Paris, Honolulu, San Francisco, Aspen, and on the French Riviera.

But as Feeney said later, “I just reached the conclusion with myself that money, buying boats and all the trimmings didn’t appeal to me.” So, Feeney sold his limousines. He quit going to fancy restaurants and bought his clothes off the rack.

He decided to give away his money before he died—secretly. He gave $2.7 billion to fund 1,000 buildings on five continents, and his name appeared on none of them. He gave grants by cashier’s checks to conceal the source.

Feeney funded public-health facilities in Vietnam, the University of Limerick and Trinity College in Ireland, AIDS clinics in South Africa, Operation Smile’s free surgeries for children with cleft lips and palates, a medical campus for the University of California at San Francisco, and earthquake relief in Haiti.

In his last decades, Feeney did not own a home or a car, wore a $10 wristwatch, preferred buses to taxis and, until he was 75, flew coach. He lived in a two-bedroom rented apartment in San Francisco.

Why did he do it? He said, “I cannot think of a more personally rewarding and appropriate use of wealth than to give while one is living, to personally devote oneself to meaningful efforts to improve the human condition.”

Daniel Skeel serves on the faculty of UPenn Law School, specializing in bankruptcy law. In recent years he has been increasingly bold in bringing his faith to bear on his scholarship. Much of that witness can be traced to what he sees as the New Testament’s inescapable—and inescapably radical—understanding of debt (and debtors).

Skeel reflects,

There came a point, where I realized that the story of the Gospel, and the idea of the fresh start with bankruptcy, are very closely parallel. The idea is that you’re indebted beyond your ability ever to escape that indebtedness (and) you can’t get out on your own. It’s almost exactly the same trajectory as the idea of who Jesus is from an evangelical perspective. (It) emphasizes that reconciliation with God can come only by embracing Christ as the Savior, not through a believer’s good works.

This sort of language might cause some hearers to balk (how simplistic!), but its pastoral traction cannot be denied. Not among those carrying student loans, not among those with mortgages, to say nothing of those asked to repay a “debt” to society. Debts weigh on people, and the prospect of the clean slate has a gut-level allure and immediacy, whatever your financial situation.

In other words, it’s not an accident that Jesus used so much debt language. It’s not something to be minimized. And not just because it’s timeless, but because it’s profound. What other type of imagery could make the burden of sin—and sin’s forgiveness—more concrete?

In 2021, Rayner Conway was downsizing her four-story, 3,500-square-foot home to a condo less than half the size when her husband of 50 years died unexpectedly. The designer the couple had tasked with preparing the space, faced a fresh challenge. Could she devise a comfy home for her suddenly solo client—whom she calls “a firecracker”—while also making a tough transition not just bearable, but invigorating?

The article went on to explain how the designer had a strategy for "spotlighting meaningful artwork, weaving in treasured heirlooms and swathing the rooms in a bright palette designed to stand out, not hide away."

Conway said, “Many women of my generation look at [downsizing] as giving up their previous life, but I saw a new chapter. I’m 73. I can do whatever … I want.”

Possible Preaching Angle:

In sharp contrast, in the Kingdom of God, growing older or “retirement” doesn’t mean doing whatever I want. It’s an opportunity to serve God and others and leave a Christ-honoring legacy.

Garret Keizer was asked by his minister to visit an elderly parishioner, Pete, in a nursing home. Garret finds out that Pete loves bananas, so he starts bringing some on each week’s visit. Garrett said:

I was standing with my Chiquitas in line at the supermarket behind one of those people who seem to think they're at a bank instead of a store. She must have had three checkbooks. I shifted from one foot to the other, sighing, glancing at the clock. I wanted to catch Pete before supper. No doubt I was feeling the tiniest bit righteous because I was about the Lord's business on behalf of my old man, who needed his bananas and was looking forward to my company. And here was this loser buying an armful of trivial odds and ends and taking my precious time to screw around with her appallingly disorganized finances.

When I finally got through the line, I watched her walk to her vehicle feeling that same uncharitable impulse that makes us glance at the driver of a car we're passing just to “get a look at the jerk.” She got into the driver's seat of a van marked with the name of a local nursing home and filled to capacity with elderly men and women who had no doubt handed her their wish lists and checkbooks as soon as she'd cut the ignition.

In her book Atheists Finding God: Unlikely Stories of Conversions to Christianity in the Contemporary West, Jana Harmon explored why atheists came to faith in Christ. One big factor included the kindness of Christians. Harmon writes:

Nearly two-thirds of the former atheists I spoke with thought they would never leave their atheistic identity and perspective. They were not looking for God or interested in spiritual conversations. So, what breached their walls of resistance? ... Something [disrupted their] status quo.

She shares one story about how some Christians became the catalyst that disrupted the atheistic worldview by Christlike kindness:

Jeffrey became an atheist following a childhood tragedy where he lost two brothers in a house fire. His deep pain fueled a vitriolic hatred against God and instability in his own life. During the next 20 years, he developed strong arguments to support his emotional resistance to belief. When his wife unexpectedly became a Christian, his anger against God only grew.

One evening his wife called and asked him to pick her up at the home of the Christians who had led her to Christ. Jeffrey was expecting a heated exchange, but instead received warm hospitality. Feeling valued, he was drawn back again and again toward meaningful conversation. Over time, his walls of resistance began to melt, friendship and trust developed, and intellectual questions were answered. Eventually, he lost his resistance to God and found the peace and joy that had long eluded him.

When amateur drone pilot Josh Logue launched a routine flight, he expected to find unusually high stream waters from an unexpectedly heavy rainfall. What he found, however, surprised and alarmed him. The image on the controller screen showed what he thought was a large shadow on the road.

Josh said, “I zoomed in on it. Oh, it’s a car and a giant hole down here!” Immediately, he recruited his dad and a neighbor, a firefighter with the Denver Fire Department, to try to help. Once there, they found a Jeep Grand Cherokee SUV, upside-down in a large sinkhole, with rapidly rising waters rushing around it. And to their further surprise, they found two people inside, who’d been there for fifteen minutes. If the water rose another six inches, the vehicle would be completely submerged. After dialing 911 for help, they got to work.

Ryan Nuanes was the neighbor who accompanied Josh and his dad. He began communicating with the couple trapped inside, trying to ascertain how much air was still in the vehicle. Meanwhile Josh’s dad left to find chains for his pickup truck, which they would eventually use to help pull the Jeep on its side so that first responders could rescue its occupants. Ryan said “I’ve been a Denver firefighter for 25 years. And it was the most dire situation that I had seen.”

Within ten minutes, responders from the local fire, sheriff, and state patrol were on the scene, and they all collaborated with the rescue effort. Once rescued, the man and woman inside the Jeep were transported to the hospital for further treatment.

Josh still has ambitions of becoming a professional drone pilot. Before this incident, he wasn’t sure how to make such a transition. But now he certainly has something valuable to point towards. He said, “It’ll be a story that I’ll tell.”

Possible Preaching Angle:

Each of us has the capacity to act as a “Good Samaritan” to others. God uses those who make themselves available for service at critical moments of need.

The search for self-esteem through religion and moral virtue presents a greater problem. No matter how good we have been and what we have done for God and others, there is always somebody whose relative goodness makes us feel less than.

Consider the example of John and Libby Moritz who lost all three of their children in a car crash. In response to their grief, they founded a nonprofit for vulnerable children. They sponsored orphanages in Mexico and Grenada, provided scholarships in Kenya and India, alleviated hunger in the Philippines, and provided shoes in Guatemala. They bought a large farm and turned it into a foster home. In virtually everything, they became other-centered. They used their own money to fund the work. In the summers, John tended to his swimming pool business. During off months, they visited the orphanages and programs they sponsored.

Unsurprisingly, the article about the Moritz’s began, “Prepare to feel a little guilty. It’s not that John and Libby Moritz would want anybody to feel guilty. It’s just that if you want to compare good deeds checks list with them, yours will probably come up short.”

A high-level NFL star (it’s Tom Brady if you want to use his name) recently expressed the essence of works-righteousness that lurks in all our hearts apart from Christ. After what he called an “amicable divorce,” he said, “All you can do is the best you can do, and that's what I'll just continue to do as long as I'm working, as long as I'm being a dad."

Then he defined what it means to be a “professional” athlete:

So I think the interesting thing for, you know, a football player, an athlete in general is, you're out there--I always say we're not actors, even though we're on TV--that is our real self out there and we're trying to do our best … We all have our unique challenges in life and we're all humans and we do the best we can do.

He concluded:

I want to … always try to do things the right way as well. And to deal with things that are in your life, that have challenges--you want to deal with them in the best possible way. So, I want to always be able to hold my head high on and off the field, and I'm going to try to continue to do that for as long as I'm here.

Possible Preaching Angles:

This illustration is not meant to criticize this athlete. It shows our need for a Savior because no matter how much we try to do our best it will never give the new life Jesus promises. This athlete shows the futility of works righteousness for all of us.

As a result of a streak of good behavior, over one thousand inmates from the Snake River Correctional Institution were served dinner from a local Burger King franchise. Amber Campbell, speaking for the Oregon Department of Corrections, said such meals help people in prison feel normal.

“Some of these men hadn’t had a Whopper for years,” said Campbell. “The things we might just take for granted in our day-to-day lives are things that people don’t have in prison. We want to make good neighbors of the folks who are incarcerated.”

The cost of the food was paid for by the prisoners themselves, although a former inmate says that cost can be prohibitive. “If you don’t have someone on the outside sending you money, you won’t be going to many of these,” said Luke Wirkkala. He lived at Snake River for four years before his murder conviction was overturned and he was later acquitted. He said, “Just having food that is closer to normal makes you feel, even for just a short while, like you are not in prison. You never totally forget where you’re at, but it’s just a little lessening of the pressure for an hour or two.”

Possible Preaching Angle:

Rewards for good behavior can result in more good behavior. When we offer hope along with punishment, we can show God’s mercy and forgiveness.

2022 saw some truly bizarre Guinness World Records, including:

• Fastest time to find and alphabetize the letters in a can of alphabet soup (2 minutes and 8.6 seconds).
• The farthest tightrope walk in high heels (639 feet, in four-inch stilettos)
• The largest gathering of people with the same first and last name (178 Hirokazu Tanakas in Japan, beating the 2005 record of 164 Martha Stewarts).
• Fastest time to eat 10 Carolina Reaper chilies.

Possible Preaching Angle:

This is a lighthearted look at human “accomplishments.” But it does raise the question, “What new and innovative activity can you accomplish for the Lord and his Kingdom this year? How can you use your spiritual gift to unlock new avenues of service or outreach for the Lord?”

Like many people, Pat Allen enjoys needlepoint as an activity. But where some needlepoint projects last a few months or even a year, Allen has most everyone else beat.

Allen attends Westminster Presbyterian Church in northeast Portland, and helped start a project using needlepoint to embroider cushions on the church’s wooden pews. It was so massive, it took 150 volunteers, many of whom had been laboring for more than 30 years.

The task was so daunting because of its scale. The church has 80 pews, most of which are 18 feet long. That’s over 1,440 feet of needlepoint stitches across 700 different patterns. The cushions for the 70 pews in the main sanctuary were completed back in 2004, but the last ten pews in the balcony took much longer to complete.

And they might have taken even longer, but there was an unexpected silver lining to the pandemic’s dark cloud. Allen said, “That was the one good thing about COVID. It gave everybody time to stitch.”

Gwen Harper is a longtime volunteer who led the effort until her death in 2019. “Sometimes I think about it as building a cathedral. Just one brick at a time, and you keep going until it’s done.”

Possible Preaching Angle:

God rewards those who continue in the faith with steadfast perseverance, trusting that their labor will not be in vain.

Beatrice Fediuk decided to write a resumé for heaven as her obituary. When she finally passed at age 94, the Winnipeg Free Press printed the resumé in its entirety. It starts: "Dear Lord, please accept my application for Eternal Life. My resumé is as follows." She divided her obituary into sections—like a real resumé—objectives, references, training, experience, volunteer work, and hobbies.

Beatrice gave a summary of her life history, saying she was born on October 22, 1927, to “loving parents Eugenie and Alfred. ... I have left my daughter Michelle, her husband Perry, my granddaughter Kali, and many nieces and nephews on earth, as there are no openings for them in Heaven just yet."

She shared her memories, saying: "Lord, you know that (as a teacher) I never had any 'teacher's pets.’ Rather, I put my heart into teaching those with learning challenges, or difficult family situations. It was here that I feel I did my best work. … I also continued volunteer work, knitting scarves for underprivileged children.”

Summing up her CV, she added: "Lord, I hope that you will find that I have met my Objectives and deserve a place in Your heavenly home. You know where to find me to further discuss my qualifications."

Possible Preaching Angle:

Sadly, this is how many good people plan to arrive in heaven—on the basis of good works and good intentions. But as Scripture clearly says, “He saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy (Titus 3:5).

A survey by Pew Research Center shows that American Protestants believe that:

46% Faith in God alone is needed to get into heaven

52% Both good deeds and faith in God are needed to get into heaven

46% The Bible provides all the religious guidance that Christians need

52% In addition to the Bible, Christians need guidance from church teachings and traditions

They say that a picture is worth a thousand words, but this picture is worth much, much more. Several photos on Twitter in early March show row after row of empty baby strollers left at a local railway station. Each photo was liked or shared tens of thousands of times in just a few days.

The strollers were an act of solidarity from Polish mothers wanting to support their Ukrainian counterparts. Because of the immediacy of the Russian invasion, most Ukrainian men were either conscripted or voluntarily stayed to defend their homeland. This meant that many mothers of small children were forced to flee with their children in tow and little else. Many of the strollers included basic supplies like warm blankets.

The Polish government’s response to the refugee surge included a hotline for travelers to call and get up-to-date information and advice regarding crossing the border. As of April 21, 2022, authorities estimated that over 2.8 million people sought refuge from the war by traversing into Poland.

Possible Preaching Angle:

God is with the poor and marginalized who have no resources to secure their safety, and with those who minister to them with empathy.

In a survey, two in three Americans told LifeWay Research, “Yes, I am a sinner.” But on what to do about it, self-confessed sinners were split.

All Americans:

34% I work on being less of a sinner

28% I depend on Jesus Christ to overcome sin

5% I am fine with being a sinner

Men:

38% I work on being less of a sinner

22% I depend on Jesus Christ to overcome sin

6% I am fine with being a sinner

Women:

33% I depend on Jesus Christ to overcome sin

30% I work on being less of a sinner

4% I am fine with being a sinner

Protestants:

49% I depend on Jesus Christ to overcome sin

31% I work on being less of a sinner

3% I am fine with being a sinner

Catholics

48% I work on being less of a sinner

19% I depend on Jesus Christ to overcome sin

4% I am fine with being a sinner

Are you a good person? There’s an easy way to tell, according to the Internet at least. It’s based on what you do with a shopping cart when you are done with it. If you put it in the designated shopping cart collection area in the parking lot, you’re good. If you leave it to drift off into parking spots, you’re bad.

The test has been discussed on Reddit and Twitter. On Reddit, a user laid out a very detailed description of the theory that essentially claims:

The shopping cart is what determines whether a person is a good or bad member of society. Objectively, the correct action to take is to put the shopping cart where it’s supposed to go. It’s not illegal to abandon the cart, so you can do that without consequence. … Therefore the shopping cart presents itself as the apex example of whether a person will do what is right without being forced to do it. No one will punish you … or fine you … you gain nothing by returning the shopping cart. You must return the shopping cart because it is the right thing to do.

Another said:

For a date you need to take them to a restaurant and do the waiter test & then later go to the store with them & do the shopping cart test.

Finally,

The only way to truly know a person’s character, is to secretly follow them to the grocery store and watch what they do with the cart when they’re done.

You can view the Reddit thread here.

Possible Preaching Angle:

God also tests our character, but instead of the shopping cart test, God uses other measures to examine us: The test of love (1 Cor. 13), the test of the fruits of the Spirit (Gal. 5:22-23), the test of Christlikeness (Rom. 8:29), the stress test (1 Pet. 1:7), and others.

In CT magazine, writer Dikkon Eberhart shares his personal testimony of progression from theological drifter to Orthodox Jew to a born-again experience with Jesus Christ:

I grew up in the Episcopal Church. But in my high teens and young twenties I drifted. At seminary in Berkeley, California, during the 1970s—I created my own religion. I called it Godianity. Certainly, I believed in the existence of God, hence the name of my religion. But I didn’t know much about that Son of God fellow, and the little I did know seemed impossibly weird.

Then something happened. I married a Jew who was an atheist. Then my wife became pregnant and nine months later, our first daughter squirmed in her mother’s arms. Here’s the sudden realization of an atheist: Such a perfect and beautiful creature must be the gift of God, not the product of some random swirl of atoms. My wife’s atheism bit the dust. Her new God belief was Jewish. My Godianity should have taken notice. “Listen up!” it ought to have heard. “You’re in trouble, too.”

That trouble came five years later. Our daughter and I were swinging in a hammock under a tree on a windy day. Normally an eager chatterer, our daughter fell silent and then said, “Daddy, I know there’s a God.” I was enchanted. “How, sweetie?” She pointed at the tree and its leaves. “You can’t see God. He’s like the wind. You can’t see the wind, but the wind makes the leaves move. You can’t see God, but you know he’s there, because he makes the people move, like the leaves.”

My heart swelled with love for this perceptive child, but then she crushed me. She continued, “Daddy, what do we believe?” Really, what she was asking was, “Mommy’s kind of Jewish. You’re kind of Christian. So what am I?” And despite my three advanced religious degrees and seminary employment, I couldn’t answer.

In that instant, I shucked my Godianity. Right away, my wife and I retreated into an urgent executive session. She was a Jew who was no longer an atheist. We resolved, we shall raise our children as Jews. And we did—as Reform Jews. Yet I still teetered on uneven ground, conscious of being an outsider. Then something else happened. During services on the eve of Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, God spoke to me: “If you should desire to come to me, my door is open to you.” Right away, I knew I needed to become a Jew myself, and three years later my conversion was complete.

For some time, my wife and I had noticed something: While Reform Judaism respects Torah, many Reform Jews themselves were selective in their adherence to its strictures. But we objected. We wanted a faith that wasn’t in the habit of accommodating itself to the surrounding culture.

Across our rural road, there happened to be a small Baptist church. Some of our neighbors had invited us to visit, in case we Jews should ever want to know more about Christ. We realized that—oddly—these neighbors seemed concerned for our souls.

More than a year later, desperate for direction, I crossed the road to the church one Sunday morning. That day, the pastor was preaching from 1 Timothy. I was astonished to hear a Baptist preacher using Old Testament references within his message—and with accurate Hebrew nuance. The pastor and I began meeting each week and my wife frequented the women’s Bible study. She and I began devouring book after book, faster and faster, thrilled by each new discovery of seemingly impossible truths that were actually true.

Even as a Jew, I knew the Passion story. But it occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, that story might be real—and if it were, then everything would need to change. Our Torah-based lives would be as dead and ineffectual as Godianity. Instead, we would give our souls to the personal love of the Incarnation, the God-man who dwelt among us. We realized that the Old Testament begged for the climax of the New Testament.

It took nine months, an appropriate duration for re-birth, before I committed myself to Jesus. My wife did the same three months later. Our younger two children followed soon thereafter. When God spoke to me in the synagogue all those years ago, inviting me through his open doorway, I had assumed he was summoning me into Judaism. Little did I know he was actually calling me to Christ.

When waitress Flaviane Carvalho sensed something was wrong with the boy at her table, she took decisive action. Carvalho, a server and manager at Mrs. Potato Restaurant, quickly wrote a note asking if he needed help, and briefly showed it to him. When the boy nodded, she did her best to get him help, eventually calling the police to intervene.

In interviews, Carvalho said two things she observed told her something was amiss. “When I looked at the boy, I saw a big scratch between his eyebrows. I started observing and I could (see) that he was super quiet and sad. I [also] observed that everyone received food but not the kid. I’m a mother also and this was very strange to me because you don’t deny food for a kid.”

Later that evening, officers arrested the boy’s father for child abuse. Orlando Police Chief Orlando Rolón said, “We are 100% convinced that it saved the life of a child. That child was destined to be killed. That’s how severe the injuries were. That’s how horrific the recollection of the abuse the child shared with us was.”

Possible Preaching Angle:

We show the love of Jesus when we protect the vulnerable, especially children about whom Jesus was outspoken in his loving defense.

If you were traveling to outer space, what would you take with you? Photographer Steve Pyke got to find out what items some American astronauts felt were significant enough for that. Starting in 1998, Pyke began a series of portraits of those who had traveled to space or walked on the Moon in the late 1960s and early 1970s. But he also photographed objects that had made the journeys with them. There were the wonderfully geeky working items: a case used to bring the first lunar rock back to Earth on Apollo 11 in 1969 and the geological hammer used during Apollo 12.

But then there were more personal and sometimes surprising artifacts that orbited the Earth and even made the journey to the Moon. A figurine of a Madonna, an unopened bottle of brandy, a golf club, and quotes from famous people, and a copy of the Declaration of Independence. Astronaut Rusty Schweickart brought those quotes on pieces of lightweight onionskin paper tucked inside his tunic during Apollo 9. Pyke writes, “To him, they were pieces of wisdom from Earth that would remain up there, on his person, even if he was lost during the mission.”

Each lunar astronaut was allowed only two pounds of personal items that they could bring back, so the items they chose can be curious, odd, and personal. “The objects that are documented here—the quiet and intimate minutiae—give us access to the very personal, psychological, and human side to the journey into space. What is it that these astronauts and pioneers wanted to take with them on their ultimate journey into the unknown?”

Possible Preaching Angle:

What are you taking on your ultimate journey to heaven? Many things that we spend our life pursuing, such as material possessions, money, fame, hobbies, and status, will be left behind. Among the only things we can take are our own soul (Matt. 16:25-26), our good works done with the right motive (1 Cor. 3:8, Rev. 14:13), and the people we have led to faith in Christ (Dan. 12:3; Phil. 4:1).