Selected Excerpts from Max
Lucado’s
It’s
Not About Me
Rescue From
the Life We Thought Would Make Us Happy
Bumping
Life Off Self-Center
Blame the bump on Copernicus.
Until
Copernicus came along in 1543, we earthlings enjoyed center stage. Fathers
could place an arm around their children, point to the night sky, and proclaim,
“The universe revolves around us.”
Ahh,
the hub of the planetary wheel, the navel of the heavenly body, the 1600
Pennsylvania Avenue of the cosmos. Ptolemy’s first-century finding convinced
us. Stick a pin in the center of the stellar map and you’ve found the earth.
Dead center.
And, what’s more, dead still! Let
the other planets vagabond through the skies, not us. No sir. We stay put. As
predictable as Christmas. No orbiting. No rotating. Some fickle planets revolve
180 degrees from one day to the next. Not ours. As budgeless as the Rock of
Gibraltar. Let’s hear loud applause for
the earth, the anchor of the universe.
But
then came Nicolaus. Nicolaus Copernicus
with his maps, drawings, bony nose, Polish accent, and pestering questions. Oh,
those questions he asked.
“Ahem, can anyone tell me what causes the
seasons to change?”
“Why do some stars appear in the day and
others at night?”
“Does anyone know exactly how far ships
can sail before falling off the edge of the earth?”
“Trivialities!” people scoffed. “Who has
time for such problems? Smile and wave, everyone. Heaven’s homecoming queen
has more pressing matters to which to attend.”
But
Copernicus persisted. He tapped our collective shoulders and cleared his
throat, “Forgive my proclamation, but,” and pointing a lone finger toward the
sun he announced, “behold, the center of the solar system.”
The
news wasn’t well-received. For over half a century, people denied the facts.
When like-minded Galileo came along, they imprisoned him. You’d of thought he
called the king a step-child or the Pope a Baptist. The throne locked him up
and the church kicked him out.
People didn’t take well to demotions back
then.
We still don’t.
What
Copernicus did for the earth, God does for our souls. Tapping the collective
shoulder of humanity, he points to the Son—his Son¾and says, “Behold the center of it
all.”
We Need to See His Glory
God has one goal: God. “I have my reputation to keep up” (Isaiah
48:11 MSG).
Surprised? Isn’t such an attitude,
dare we ask, self-centered? Don’t we deem this behavior “self-promotion”? Why
does God broadcast himself?
For the same reason the pilot of the
lifeboat does. Think of it this way.
You’re floundering neck-deep in a dark, cold sea. Ship sinking. Lifejacket
shredding. Strength waning. Through the inky night comes the voice of a
lifeboat pilot. But you cannot see him. What do you want the driver of the
lifeboat to do?
Be quiet? Say nothing? Stealth his
way through the drowning passengers? By no means! You need volume! You need him
to amp it up! In biblical jargon, you want him to show his glory. You need to
hear him say, “I am here. I am strong. I have room for you. I can save you!” Drowning
passengers want the pilot to reveal his preeminence.
Don’t we want God to do the same?
Look around. People are thrashing about in seas of guilt, anger, despair. Life
isn’t working. We are going down fast. But God can rescue us. And only one message
matters. His! We need to see God’s glory.
Make no mistake. God has no ego
problem. He does not reveal his glory for
his good. We need to witness it for ours. We need a strong hand to pull us
into a safe boat. And, once aboard, what becomes our priority?
--more--
It’s Not About Me Excerpts, page two
Simple. Promote God. We declare his
pre-eminence. “Hey! Strong boat over here! Able pilot! He can pull you out!”
Passengers promote the pilot. “Not
to us, O Lord, not to us, but to your name give glory because of your
lovingkindness, because of your truth.” (Ps. 115:1) If we boast at all we
“boast in the Lord” (2 Corinthians 10:17).
The breath you took as you read that
last sentence was given to you for one reason, that you might, for another
moment, “reflect
the Lord’s glory” (2 Corinthians 3:18). God awoke you and me this morning for
one purpose: “Declare his glory among the nations. His marvelous deeds among
the peoples” (1 Chronicles 16:24).
“God made all things and everything continues through him and for him. To him be the glory forever and
ever” (Romans 11:36, emphasis mine). “There is only one God, the Father, who
created everything, and we exist for him”
(1 Corinthians 8:6 nlt, emphasis
mine).
Why does the earth spin? For him.
Why do you have talents and
abilities? For him.
Why do you have money or poverty?
For him.
Strength or struggles? For him.
Everything exists to reveal his
glory.
Including you.
Limited by Love
Do you really want the world to
revolve around you? If “it’s all about you” then “it’s all up to you.” Your father rescues you from such a burden.
While you are valuable, you aren’t essential. You’re important, but not
indispensable.
Still don’t think that’s good news?
Perhaps a story would be helpful. My
father, an oil field mechanic, never met a car he couldn’t fix. Forget golf
clubs or tennis rackets, my dad’s toys were sockets and wrenches. He relished a
wrecked engine. Once, while he was driving us to visit his sister in New
Mexico, the car blew a rod. Most men would have groaned all the way to the
mechanic. Not Dad. He called a tow truck and grinned the rest of the way to my
aunt’s house. To this day I suspect paternal sabotage. A week of family
chitchat repulsed him. But a week under the hood? Forget the coffee and cookies. Hand me the manifold. Dad did with a
V-8 engine what Patton did with a platoon-- he made it work.
Oh, that the same could be said for
his youngest son. It can’t. My problem with mechanics begins with the end of
the car. I can’t remember which one holds the engine. Anyone who confuses the
spare tire with the fan belt is likely not gifted in car repair.
My ignorance left my dad in a
precarious position. What does a skilled mechanic do with a son who is anything
but? As you begin formulating an answer, may I ask this question, what does God
do with us? Under his care the universe runs like a Rolex. But his children?
Most of us have trouble balancing a checkbook. So what does he do?
I know what my dad did. Much to his
credit, he let me help him. Holding wrenches, scrubbing spark plugs--he gave me
jobs to do. And he knew my limits. Never once did he say, “Max, tear apart that
transmission, will you? One of the gears is broken.” Never said it. For one
thing, he liked his transmission. For another, he loved me. He loved me too
much to give me too much.
So does God. He knows your
limitations. He’s well aware of your weaknesses. You can no more die for your
own sins than you can solve world hunger. And, according to him, that’s okay.
The world doesn’t rely on you. God
loves you too much to say it’s all about you. He keeps the cosmos humming. You
and I sprinkle sawdust on oil spots and thank him for the privilege. We’ve
peeked under the hood. We know what it takes to run the world and wise are we
who leave the work to his hands.
To
say, it’s not about you is not to say
you aren’t loved, quite the contrary.
It’s because God loves you that it’s not about you.
--more--
It’s Not About Me Excerpts, page three
God’s Tools
You’re
acquainted with house sitters. You’ve possibly used one. Not wanting to leave
your house vacant, you ask someone to stay in your home until you return. Let
me describe two of your nightmares.
The house sitter redecorates your
house. White paint is changed to pink. Berber carpet to shag. An abstract
plastic chair sits in the place of your cozy loveseat. Their justification?
“The house didn’t express me accurately. I needed a house that communicated who
I am.”
Your
response? “It’s not yours! My residence does not exist to reflect you! I asked
you to take care of the house not take over the house!” Would you want this
tenant?
You might choose him over nightmare
number two. She didn’t redecorate, she neglected. Never washed a dish, made a
bed, or took out the trash. “My time here was temporary. I knew you wouldn’t
mind,” she explains.
Of
course you’d mind! Does she know what this abode cost you?
Both house sitters made the same
mistake. They acted like the dwelling was theirs. How could they?
Or,
better asked, how could we? When it comes to our bodies, the Bible declares
that we don’t own them. “You are no longer your own. God paid a great price for
you. So use your body to honor God” (1 Corinthians 6:19, 20 cev).
Use your body to indulge your
passions? To grab attention? To express your opinions? No. Use your body to
honor God. “Use your whole body as a tool to do what is right for the glory of
God” (Romans 6:13 nlt). Your body
is God’s instrument, intended for his work and for his glory.
The
Corinthian Christians had serious trouble with this. When it came to the body,
they insisted, “We can do anything we want to” (1 Corinthians 6:12 cev). Their philosophy conveniently
separated flesh from Spirit. Have fun with the flesh. Honor God with the
Spirit. Wild Saturdays. Worshipful Sundays. You can have it all.
Paul disagreed. He dismissed the
dichotomy. He reminded his readers that God interwove body with soul, elevating
both to equal status. Your body is no toy. Quite the contrary. Your body is a
tool. “Do you not know that your bodies are members of Christ himself?”
(1
Corinthians 6:19).
I remember seeing a sign on a
mechanic’s toolbox that read: “Don’t ask to borrow my tools. I use them to feed
my family.” Understandable request. To do his work, the mechanic needed his instruments.
He needed them present and functional. When he looked for his wrench, he wanted
to find it. When he pulled out a screwdriver, he wanted it to be clean. His
work was important, hence his tools were important.
What work is more important than God’s? Doesn’t it stand to reason that God’s tools
should be maintained?
It’s Not About Us
Why did God help you succeed? So you can make him known.
David
Robinson knows this. Speaking of someone whom God made good, this seven-foot
tall basketball player for the San Antonio Spurs was good. For fourteen seasons
he dominated the league: MVP, All-Star, two championship rings, two Gold
Medals. But it was his character that caught the attention of the public. These
words appeared in the Washington Times
the day after Robinson’s departing championship victory.
Robinson showed that a player did not have to be cheap or
dirty to be effective. He did not have to clutter his body with tattoos or
litter the NBA cities with illegitimate children. Robinson never felt a need to
bring attention to himself, to shimmy after a good play or point to the crowd,
as if to say, “Look at me. Aren't I something special?”
--more--
It’s Not About Me Excerpts, page four
The good guys won. Robinson won.
Decency won. We all won.
Minutes after hoisting the trophy
overhead, David was interviewed by a national network. “People in San Antonio
know what I’m going to say,” he told the reporter. And we did. We did because
we had heard him say it and live it for so long. “All the glory goes to God,”
he announced.
Three thousand years ago another
David declared the same truth. “Riches and honor come from you alone, for you
rule over everything. Power and might are in your hand, and it is at your
discretion that people are made great and given strength.” (1 Chronicles
29:12).
By Max
Lucado
Available
March 9, 2004
Integrity
Publishers
For more
information: McClure Muntsinger Public Relations, 615.595.8321