ALL IN

“She put in everything—all she had to live on.” Mark 12:44 

Last Friday our family celebrated a local high school senior at her graduation party.  Since our friend is headed to my alma mater, Auburn University, we all proudly donned burnt orange and navy blue.  Several others at the party also wore the same colors, but I knew their fashion choices were out love for the senior—not loyalty to the school.  In other words, they weren’t ALL IN.  

Those two words became Auburn’s slogan for the 2010 championship football season and have stuck around as one of the Tigers’ mottos.  The phrase is displayed with pride on t-shirts, billboards, and brochures as a short and simple declaration of complete commitment and unwavering allegiance to the school and all of its endeavors. 

Auburn fan or not, ALL IN is a fun motto for football but a much more fantastic motto for faith.  It is a declaration of complete commitment and unwavering allegiance, not to a program or institution but to a person—Jesus Christ.  As Christians who have been graciously given “new life into a living hope,” ALL IN is what we’re supposed to be, but what we often struggle being.  However short and simple the words are to say, they are tough to live.  God knows this, so instead of only giving explanations, He gave us examples.  Two ladies whose stories aren’t far apart in the book of Mark show us what ALL IN looks like—or better yet, what ALL IN sounds like—clanging coins and cracking stone.

The widow at the temple didn’t need a t-shirt to declare her loyalty—or a megaphone.
Two copper coins ringing in the coffer were louder than any cheer could ever be.  

“Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts. But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a few cents”(Mk 12:41-42).  Most never heard the quiet clinks, but to Jesus they were the deafening roar of total trust.  ^“Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, ‘Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others.  They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on’”(Mk 12:43-44).  ALL IN.  Literally.  We’re not given the prologue or epilogue of this story, but we can be sure that such devoted dependence and sacrificial obedience move the God of heaven to supply what is needed here and to store up treasures there.  The poor widow may have left with empty hands, but her heart was full of trust that the One who never let her down would never let her lack.  ALL IN.

 

Mary felt the same.  

More than perfume flowed through the broken alabaster box as she anointed Jesus that evening in Bethany. Absolute devotion, bursting passion, and enormous gratitude poured onto His head and feet.  Though the contents were her financial and social security, she cracked the stone and held nothing back.  ALL IN.  Some scoffed at what they thought was waste, but Jesus’ rebuke was severe.  “Don’t give her a hard time.  Her attitude and actions are beautiful, and her story will be shared from now through eternity”(Mk 14:6-9). The scent of her sacrifice lingered on His body even at His burial. ALL IN.

For us, ALL IN might sound different than clanging coins or cracking stone, but the attitude is always the same. Devotion. Obedience. Trust. Love. Sacrifice. Praise. Gratitude. And even extravagance.  We can never love God too much, trust God too much, or worship God too much.  His grace and mercy call us to complete commitment and unwavering allegiance.  Every moment we must choose, and we should never hesitate.

How can we be less than ALL IN for the One who went all out for us?

Less Is More

The season of Lent starts today, and during the weeks leading to Easter, many Christians focus on Christ’s sacrifice by giving up something considered delightful or enjoyable.  The idea behind the action is that our small sacrifices continually remind us of His big ones.

Jesus gave up heavenly glory to reside on planet Earth.  He gave up the adoration of angels and the perfection of Paradise to face the taunts and jeers of doubters and deniers.  And, in the end, He gave up His body and soul to bring us to Himself.  Such sacrifice is worth way more than forty days of focus, but six weeks is a good start.

Though we should meditate and marvel on this every day, an honest confession most of us could make (me at the top of the list) is that sometimes we take our salvation like we take running water—for granted.  We know it’s a big blessing, but not often enough do we stop at marvel that with the turn of a knob, the very substance essential for physical life comes flowing out—clear, clean, steady, and ready.  Granted, the comparison isn’t close, but not often enough do we stop and marvel that the salvation needed for spiritual life is poured out on us graciously and constantly from the heart of our ever-loving, always faithful God.

Simply put, intentionally giving up something during Lent helps us marvel more.  The daily refrain from an activity we usually engage in or an item we regularly consume prompts us to praise the One who gave up so much good for our good.  The purpose is not to be miserable but for the break in routine to refocus our desires on His delights.

So if you’ve given up a hobby, spend your “freed up” time in God’s Word.  If you’ve given up interaction on social media, increase your connection with God through prayer and reading.  If you’ve given up sugar, find the sweetness of Scripture like you’ve never tasted before.  If you’ve given up carbs, discover anew that the Bible is more sustaining and fulfilling than any bread could ever be. (One of my girls suggested giving up school for Lent, but her mean mother quickly nixed any such idea.)  The point isn’t what we give up, it’s that we give up something as a small but sincere reminder of how much Christ sacrificed for us.

And just perhaps during these days of less, we will find ourselves filled with more—more love, more joy, more hope, more praise, and more awe of the God who loves so much He gave—and gave up.

Grace! I Want Grace!

“From the fullness of his grace we have all received one blessing after another.”  John 1:16

 

Last Saturday my family babysat two little girls.  Our charges--one and a half and two and a half years old, respectively, arrived with diapers, jammies, and a music DVD.  It is no exaggeration to say that from the minute they walked in until thirty seconds before they walked out, the disc played non-stop. The second tune was the praise song, “This Is Amazing Grace,” and the key word in the title became the anthem of the youngest.  

“Grace!  I want grace!” she sweetly, strongly, and excitedly proclaimed.  The moment the last song would end, her mantra would begin.  “Grace!  I want grace!”  Since she’s still learning to talk, the words “I want” often came out garbled, but her demand for “grace” was always clear.  When (the first three times around) I failed to immediately push the repeat button on the DVD remote, she dissolved into tears as she stared at the blank screen sorrowfully proclaiming, “Grace.  I want grace.”  And when the familiar sights and sounds began again, cheers replaced her tears as she joyfully announced, “Grace!! Grace!!”

About the fifth time through, during that two second interlude of silence between songs, I clicked over to check on the USA Figure Skating Championships. I thought that since movement and music would still be showing, we might get away with it, but the child was not fooled.  Immediately she recognized the imposter and began her imploring wail--“Grace!  I want grace!  Grace!  I want grace!”

The skating costumes were flashier than the outfits worn by the kids on the DVD, the motions more graceful, and the music more dramatic, but since the clever toddler knew what authentic “grace” looked and sounded like, no cheap imitation—no matter how extravagant or appealing—would do.  

We can all learn a lesson from the little one.  From the time we were babes in our faith, we’ve been repeatedly saturated in grace.  As the slave-trader turned song-writer John Newton penned, “Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved.  How precious did that grace appear the hour I first believed.” Actually, that amazing grace appeared way before our belief.  It showed up when Christ came down to give His life for ours, and it was working in our hearts even before we were His.  God’s grace not only saves us, but over and over and over, day after day after day, God’s grace sustains us, strengthens us, and straightens us up.  His grace fills us with joy, peace, contentment, and purpose, and His grace binds us to Him now and forever. “Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home.”

Sometimes we fail to recognize the beauty of such blessing.  At other moments the enemy catches us in a lull and diverts our attention to something that appears more flashy and dramatic, but we should not be fooled.  Style is not substance, and our desperate hearts need the real deal—no cheap imitation will do.  May we quickly recognize any imposter and begin the imploring wail of “Grace!  I want grace!”  

There is no stronger or sweeter word for it flows from the holy heart of a perfect Father whose willingness to endure the worst allowed Him to give us His best—His grace.  From now to forever, through the tears, the cheers, the victories, the failures, the marvelous, or the mundane, our mantra should stay the same. “Grace!  I want grace!”

Nothing else will ever do.