Debt Piles Up

July 27, 2016July 27, 2016 ~ Paul Phillips ~ 1 Comment

God will reward your generosity.

The words came unexpectedly. I didn’t even know the man was paying attention to the transaction which had just occurred in the music store.

I’ve mentioned on several occasions, that with increasing regularity, opportunities pop up to help folks in less advantageous circumstances. Believing that we have been put where we are with a better purpose than amassing wealth, I attempt to make a habit of helping when I can, usually in a mostly insignificant way.

“God will reward your generosity.”

Without thinking, I glanced up at the man in front of me.

“He already has.”

I said the three words that came to me. Nothing more. A total of eight words were spoken on the subject.

We moved on to our business and the terse conversation was forgotten.

I think it needs to be revisited. In a way, it actually was for me later in the day.

A customer from Pennsylvania called to request a CD we didn’t have. I found a company which could provide it and walked the aging man through the process to purchase it on their website.

He was extremely grateful and said essentially the same thing the fellow in my store had earlier.

“God will bless you for this.”

I wonder.

All my life, I’ve listened to the talk of rewards and blessings. I’m confused.

God has given—given—us the magnificent gift of grace. The penalty for our sins has been paid in full. The gift of God is salvation, not of works, but by grace through faith. It’s all Him. All of it. (Ephesians 2:8-9)

And now, if all I do is obey Him, He owes me more?

If I love my neighbor, be he in my music store, or across the country in Philadelphia, I get to keep track of it and present the expense statement for repayment?

I don’t mean to be cynical and I certainly don’t mean to ruffle feathers. Still, I’m looking for the day when we look at the good that others do and simply acknowledge it’s what we all should be doing all the time.

I want us to realize that our love for each other is simply servicing a debt we owe to a Creator who loves us more than words can express.

It’s a debt that can never be paid off.

Never.

I want to be very clear. God owes me nothing.

If I did nothing but good for those around me until the instant of my death, there would never be a hint of any blessing owed me in the ledger kept for such things. Not a feather’s weight would tip the scale in my favor.

I owe Him everything. I always will.

It is true for every saint and sinner who ever walked this dusty earth.

We owe.

But, understand this as well. He never forces us to lift a finger in repayment of the debt.

His love though—His love—makes us into people who cannot help but recognize the claim He has on our actions and attitudes.

We love. Because He loved us first, we love. (1 John 4:19)

Period.

Blessed? Beyond any ability of man to describe.

Rewarded? In ways I will never know—so far out of balance to what I owe.

I owe. Maybe you do too.

We need to be paying up every day we live. Without coercion and without a profit motive on our part, we should give. God loves a cheerful giver. (2 Corinthians 9:7)

We pay on our love debt by helping others. It’s the way the system is designed to work.

The world is sitting with their hands out, waiting for them to be filled.

It’s time for us to pay up.

He’s already blessed us for it.

Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another, for whoever loves others has fulfilled the law.
(Romans 13:8 ~ NIV)

The world does not understand theology and dogma, but it understands love and sympathy.
(Dwight L Moody ~ American evangelist/pastor ~ 1837-1899)

Paying Taxes

March 7, 2016 ~ Paul Phillips ~ 1 Comment

It’s that season again. All you need do is turn on your television and watch a network show for awhile any evening. At some point, you will see an ad about taxes.

Get your refund! Pay less to the government! Use our service and we guarantee you’ll pay less and get more!

Funny how words change meaning over the years, isn’t it? Did you know that taxes and tribute are the same thing? Well—were the same thing—once.

For forty years, it has been right in front of my nose. Forty years and I never saw it.

I was in high school the first time I heard the song, but I’ve never really thought much about the title. I simply considered it a strange thing to call a song.

My Tribute.

That is the title of the song, but over the last thirty-eight years—the number of years I’ve been in the music business—it has rarely ever been asked for by name when a customer has needed the sheet music or accompaniment track for it.

Do you have a copy of “To God Be The Glory”?

We know by now to just go to the file and look up My Tribute. The song was written in the early 1970s by Andrae Crouch. It is still sung on occasion today. I’ve included the lyrics to the first verse somewhere below.

But, why would he name it My Tribute?

The words appear at no place in the lyrics of the song. Not once.

We have come to think of a tribute as a voluntary statement of esteem for a person.

Nancy Reagan, the widow of President Ronald Reagan passed away today and the tributes are thick on the Internet and in the editorial pages of the newspapers.

Frequently, songs are offered in tribute to the vocalists who first made them popular. We pay tribute to our mentors and teachers.

All these things are voluntary. We may refuse to offer these tributes, if we choose.

It hasn’t always been so.

The Teacher was approached by the followers of the religious leaders in His day. They, trying to trap Him, wondered aloud if He thought they should pay the tax to the hated enemy occupying their land. (Matthew 22:15-22)

Is the tribute to be given?

The Teacher knew their hearts, but still He would speak the truth they needed to hear. He asked them to show him the coin of the occupying forces—the very payment they were required to give to Rome. The denarius was produced and He held it up, asking what seemed a rather easy question.

Whose image and inscription are on this coin?

The would-be trappers were, instead, snared by their prey. Anyone could see it was Caesar’s image and title on the misshapen piece of metal. The answer given, they immediately had their own answer—one they could not twist to their own purposes.

Give to Caesar what is his. Give to God what is His, as well.

Do you suppose that last was added on as an afterthought? Did He intend only to tell them they must pay their taxes, but added the part about God only to seem pious?

Hardly.

I said He spoke the truth they needed to hear. All of it.

Do I need to ask the question? I will anyway.

In whose image are we made?

In our culture, we don’t think of it in the same way the religious Jews would have, but whose title is written clearly on us?

They had been commanded to put His Law in their hearts and minds, as well as writing them on their arms and their foreheads! (Deuteronomy 11:18-20)

Whose image and inscription are to be found on us?

The tribute will be paid. Without fail, it will be paid.

One day, every knee will bow and every tongue will pay the tribute. By force, if necessary. (Philippians 2:10-11)

Today, we may pay it freely, giving up the tribute to One who has loved and given Himself for us.

How would we not want to do that openly and joyfully?

Mr. Crouch had the right idea. We, who are made in His image and have His love written indelibly in our hearts, give our tribute.

Our tribute.

What we owe. Nothing more, nor less.

To God be the glory!

Praise God from Whom all blessings flow.
Praise Him, all creatures here below.
Praise Him above, ye heavenly host.
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!
(Thomas Ken ~ Anglican bishop ~1637-1711)

…and he asked them, “Whose image is this? And whose inscription?”
“Caesar’s,” they replied.
Then he said to them, “So give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s.”
(Matthew 22:20-21 ~ NIV)

How can I say thanks for the things
You have done for me?
Things so undeserved yet you gave
To prove your love for me
The voices of a million angels
Could not express my gratitude
All that I am, and ever hope to be
I owe it all to thee.
(from My Tribute ~ Andrae Crouch ~ American singer/songwriter ~ 1942-2015)

Misdemeanors

May 14, 2015May 14, 2015 ~ Paul Phillips ~ Leave a comment

She carried thousands of them. And by thousands, I mean more than twenty.

That big old suitcase of a purse had everything in it. Kleenex, on the off-chance a bloody nose should need immediate attention (hey–it had been known to happen) or even for the occasional tear that might dare to escape from the corner of a little boy’s eye. Band-aids for scraped knees–a virtual certainty–and pricked fingers. Scissors, nail clippers, maps, Bible, suntan lotion (no sunscreen back then), pens, pencils, notepad. . .Well, you get the idea.

The object she carried by the thousands though (or more than twenty–whichever), was a round silver thing with ridges around the circumference. That red-headed lady who raised me carried plenty of quarters for any eventuality.

Lunch money? Get a couple of quarters. Sunday School offering? Pull out a quarter. A stop at the gas station for a few gallons of gas? Four of them would put four gallons in the tank, enough to get around town for another week.

Mom carried quarters. The gargantuan purse’s weight without them? I have no idea. It would have felt feather-light to her if it had ever happened. It never did.

I knew better than to dig through Mom’s purse on my own. If a dig through was called for, she did it herself. I never took a quarter from Mom’s purse. Never.

Did I also mention she kept thousands of quarters on her dresser in her bedroom? No? She did. I think they were the reinforcements for the purse, should it ever feel lighter than normal.

Is it pretty clear where this is headed? Well, let me get right to the point.

I am a thief.

Was.

Am.

Again and again–I cringe as I write the words–and again, I crept into my parent’s bedroom at times when I was sure their attention was on other things–preparing dinner, hanging laundry on the line, changing the oil in the car–and I slipped a quarter into my pocket. A quarter bought a coke in those days. Or, even a play on the pinball machine in the convenience store. Important stuff.

Never more than one at a time did I steal. I convinced myself that it was not as bad as taking two. Or four. Or ten.

No mention was ever made of the missing money. None. But, the red-headed woman knew. She knew.

It was fifty years ago. And still I know myself to be a thief.

Was.

Am.

In the present day, I would never steal from anyone knowingly. Folks leave items at my business–nice things–and I find ways to contact them. I realize a customer has been overcharged and I make sure they get their money back. To a fault, I ensure unhappy folks are compensated. I never want to cheat or steal from a single person again.

I’m not sure how we manage to convince ourselves, but we can certainly fool ourselves, can’t we? I’m not a thief anymore! With Tolkien’s Faramir, I can say, “Not if I found it on the highway would I take it!”

Was.

Yeah.

Am.

You see, stealing is about recognizing who the proper owner of anything is and not taking that thing for ourselves.

Anything.

This is not the time for me to make a list of the things I have stolen just in the last 24 hours. The reader will probably find enough to make his or her own list. It may or may not be longer than mine.

The man limped out of the rain and into my store this morning. I had work to do and was already behind schedule. He needed to talk about important things. Needed to. I grudgingly gave him five minutes of my time and sent him on his way with my variation of go in peace; be warm and be fed.

Recently, I wrote boldly of knowing that nothing I have is my own. The opportunity to serve was not my own. The time was not my own. I am a thief.

Was.

Am.

My Creator has, in His bag, thousands of such opportunities. How many have I sneaked in and stolen, to waste on myself? How many minutes, one at a time, have I slipped into my own pocket?

Let me be clear. I am not legalistically suggesting we cannot have leisure time. It is clear we were created in such a way that rest and recreation is a prerequisite for physical and spiritual health.

The minutes and opportunities I am suggesting have been stolen and squandered do not, by any stretch of the imagination, fit into the category of leisure time.

I knew when I hurried the man out the door, I had not fulfilled my responsibility to him. I knew, and I sent him away. I am a thief.

Was.

Am.

Ah! But, grace. . .

Was.

“Then he said, ‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’ Jesus answered him, ‘Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.'”
Luke 23: 42, 43 ~ NIV)

“Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.”
(J.K.Rowling ~ British novelist)

He's Taken Leave

Random wanderings with Paul Phillips

debt

Debt Piles Up

Paying Taxes

Misdemeanors