Jesus Isn't Decaf (By Naomi Meyers)

It was meant to be an unforgettable birthday party. We had spent weeks planning. Combing the internet for ideas. Selecting activities. Choosing menu options. Narrowing down the guest list. We’d been meticulous. The children would move from painting pumpkins to playing pumpkin bowling and finally taking turns pummeling a pumpkin shaped pinata. There would be cake, candles and singing. And, most enticing of all to a mom trying to keep her house from destruction, it could all be done outdoors! Except it couldn’t.

As I was happily visiting the local farmer’s market, buying dozens of pumpkins in various sizes, baking a cake and enlisting my neighbor’s help in making Pozole, a hurricane was just as busily churning up the coast. It wasn’t a surprise. We knew it was coming. The weather forecasters had been keeping us informed since the storm was first spotted far out in the ocean. We’d been keeping a frustrated eye on the reports, hoping, praying, the bands of rain and gusts of wind that came our way would hold off long enough to keep our party in motion. 

Sadly, the party date dawned sans sunshine. Instead, rain was falling. The wind was picking up. The long-awaited, carefully planned festivities had to be moved indoors. The pinata was hung from the garage ceiling. Pumpkin bowling was set up below it. A table for pumpkin painting and drying was erected beside the dining table. Decorations were hung. The cake was prepared. All was in readiness. 

The guests came. At least some of them. Others canceled as their parents were hesitant to venture out in inclement weather. We partied anyway. Pumpkins were painted and bowled. Cake was eaten. The children had a fabulous time. Even when it began to rain in earnest. Even when the wind became ferocious. Even when the power went out about forty-five minutes before parents were supposed to reclaim their children. As the weather worsened, as trees fell and flooding caused road closures, I anxiously wondered if I’d have to hold an impromptu sleepover for stranded children. I didn’t. Thank God! All the parents made it back. Even the ones whose 30-minute drive home ended up taking two hours. When everyone was gone, the party evidence cleared, the car safely back in the shelter of my garage, we sat in complete safety and read Bible stories by candlelight. As the wind howled and the rain pounded, I found myself incredibly grateful that our house sat on the top of a rise, that the builders had religiously followed every code and requirement, that we didn’t have anything loose lying about the yard or porches to blow over and crash into windows or cars. We were safe because the builders responsibly erected our home on a firm foundation, following every rule and regulation available. 

We spent about 12 hours without power. Others were not so fortunate. Our property suffered little to no damage. Others were far less fortunate. In the following days, as we ventured out to run errands and go to church, we would see that even those outer bands of hurricane force rain and wind could be devastating. Downed trees littered our development. Flooding persisted. Passing a favorite park we frequented, the truth of the power behind the storm was brought sharply into focus. Where just days before a walking path cut through grass and standing trees, huge rocks, limbs and debris now sat. The path was no longer visible. It would be nearly two years before they could rectify the damage and reinstitute the path around the lake. After ten years of living in the south, we’ve weathered many storms with high winds, driving rain, and pounding hail. In every storm, I am eternally grateful that the builder of our home read every rule and regulation and responsibly followed every guideline and code. The ramifications of failure to do so could have been fatal. 

It’s a similar lesson Jesus was trying to teach in His Sermon on the Mount parable regarding houses and storms. In His parable, two men built houses. They were lovely to look at on sunny days when the breeze was light, the sky was clear, and the water remained confined within the banks of the lake. To the untrained eye, they appeared sturdy and safe. The construction seemed similar. Four walls. A few windows. A proper roof. It was what one couldn’t see that made the ultimate difference. 

Although the visible houses looked substantial enough to keep one safe in a storm, things fell apart underneath. Below the surface, where no one could see, the houses had two different foundations. One builder had taken a shortcut. A massive shortcut. He’d skipped the foundation. Entirely. No concrete slab. No framed basement. No fastening to a rock formation. He simply built his house directly on top of the sand. 

There’s no explanation for why one would do this. We can only guess. Perhaps he hadn’t read the carpentry scrolls. Maybe he’d only glanced over the building guidelines. Perhaps he was in a hurry to house his family. Maybe he was just lazy. His logic doesn’t really matter. He made a fatal error. His house wasn’t safe. It had nothing to secure its walls. Nothing to prevent its collapse should a stiff breeze or flash flood come along. Nothing to recommend his building skills. His house had no substance because he’d skipped the instructions. Refused the regulations. Opted out of the safety code requirements. When the storm arose and his house collapsed around him, he had no one to blame but himself. Why? Because he was responsible for everything he’d read, learned, and been told, but refused to do. He wasn’t ignorant of what needed to be done. He simply chose not to do it. 

Not so the other man. He wasn’t interested in a pretty, yet precarious, facade. He didn’t want a building that would fall at the first sign of inclement weather. He wasn’t interested in seeing his efforts collapse with the first puff of wind. He had no intention of watching his walls float away with the spring rains. He was absolutely going to follow every rule, regulation and guideline because he wanted the finished product to stand regardless of how strong the winds, how hard the rain, how fast the floods. He wanted to know his house was safe. 

Working fastidiously, he willingly undertook the backbreaking work of digging down through sand and clay until he reached solid rock. Using that rock as a foundation, he painstakingly affixed his walls to its immovable bulk. As the house took shape, walls went up, windows were placed, doors were cut, he referred back to the building guidelines frequently. He had to if he wanted his house to stand. He had to explicitly follow the regulations and guidelines if he wanted his house to last longer than the next storm. It would be ridiculous not to follow them. They were right in front of him. Easily accessed. Helpfully clear. Obviously important. A guidebook for which there was no substitute. (Matthew 7:24-27; Luke 6:47-49)

Isn’t it interesting how Jesus speaks to people right where they are in words they have no problem understanding? Isn’t it amazing that his parables and lessons are timeless? They are just as applicable in the 21st century as they were in the 1st century. God did not hand down some obscure dispensation understandable only by learned theologians, preachers, priests and Bible teachers. He didn’t give us a list of guidelines that would make us scratch our heads and wonder what He was talking about. No. God gave us a clear Book of regulations and rules that would be discernible to every person who took the time to read them. God gave us the Bible, the guidebook for earthly living and eternal joy. There is no substitute. (Psalm 119:130)

It often seems we have forgotten that fact, so read it again. There is no substitute for personal Bible reading and communion with God. You need to read His words. You need to apply them to your own life. You need to quiet your soul and allow Him to speak to you through the same words He spoke to people centuries ago. His message hasn’t changed. His lessons haven’t deviated. His guidelines haven’t wavered. His parameters haven’t moved. You need to read them. You need to follow them. The strength of your soul depends on them, and you are responsible for every one. (Isaiah 40:8; Numbers 23:19; Psalm 119:89; Romans 2:13)

Sitting in a church I recently visited, the pastor spoke of the “intentionally ignorant”. The people in the Bible who were present when Jesus walked the earth. Those who could clearly see He was more than just a prophet. Those who watched His miracles, listened to His teachings, yet still chose not to follow. Maybe they had excuses. Maybe they feigned confusion. Certainly they chose ignorance. But they were still responsible. For every word they heard, every miracle they witnessed, every sign they saw proving He was Christ. And they were responsible for what they did, or didn’t do, with that information. (John 5:39-40)

So are you. You are responsible for every command, regulation and guideline in that dust-coated Bible on your shelf. You have God’s word. You have His teachings. You can know His requirements. Simply by reading that Book. Your choice not to do so is no excuse. God wants to talk to you. Personally. He wants to give direction and guidance perfectly crafted to your specific needs. He wants to make your heart a spiritual fortress. He wants your life to be firmly, immovably rooted and grounded in Him. He wants you to read the guidebook. More importantly, He wants you to live by it. (Matthew 7:24; Luke 11:28; John 13:17; I Corinthians 3:10-11)

In a world overwhelmed by overbusy schedules and constant multitasking, God wants you to sit down and read His Word. Carefully. Thoughtfully. Prayerfully. He’s asking you to do more than quickly read a Bible story or scan a Psalm so you can tick the box of daily devotions. He’s calling you to lean in. To Him. To His Word. To His ways. He is urging you to read responsibly, because you are accountable for every word in that Book. Not just the pretty parts. Not just the comfortable parts. Not just the easy parts. You are responsible for every God-breathed lesson between its covers. So read the Book. Read. Your. Bible. Don’t substitute personal reading for professional podcasts, radio programming, or television preachers, no matter how good they may be. Read the Book. Yourself. Take time to listen to the words of God as He speaks to you personally through His recorded Word. Because the strength of your soul in the storms of life depends on it, read the Book. Responsibly. (Hebrews 2:1; Proverbs 12:7; Joshua 1:8; Romans 15:4; James 1:22; Acts 17:11; Colossians 3:16; Psalm 119:11)