The Thief Who Tithed

            Years ago, I remember hearing my college preacher, Rick Atchley, mention in a sermon about an article he had read in a newspaper. A widow, living in New Jersey, was robbed of $7000 in jewelry, coins, and dollar bills. It was everything valuable that she owned.

            The thief, going through the loot, had noticed that the widow had set aside some money in an envelope for a church where she worshipped. Consequently, the robber took that money, addressed the envelope to the church, put a stamp on it, mailed it off, and kept the rest for himself.

            It was as if he was saying, "It wouldn't be right to take something that belongs to the church. But what you can get from people in the world you take and stick in your pocket."

            Rick applied that to God’s people in the book of Amos. They were dividing their lives into two categories: one dedicated to the Lord on the Sabbath (Sundays for us) and the other dedicated to the rest of the week—when they could exploit people.

            When we take from people, we are taking from God.

            When we exploit people, we are exploiting God.

The Baron and the Lion

            Rick Atchley told the story of a baron who had a lion, which he kept for a pet. Tragically, the lion one day killed the baron.

            Rick pointed out that some people have pet sins. The lion was not designed to be a pet, and neither are sins—both will kill you.

The Temple of the 1000 Buddhas

Rick Atchley once related the story about a temple located in Kioto, Japan. It was called the “Temple of the 1000 Buddhas.” When one entered into that temple to worship, he encountered 1000 images of Buddha—each one slightly different than the other. Why? So that the worshipper could go in and find the image of Buddha that looked most like him. That would be the one he worshiped.  

Could we be guilty of similar worship?

"How do you get 300 people to worship God together when they can't worship God alone?"

--Ravi Zacharias

The Cannon Inside

Years ago, I heard Rick Atchley in sermon revive a story from the literature of Victor Hugo. A sailing ship is caught in a storm out on the high seas. The waves toss the ship back and forth when, suddenly, the sailors hear this terrible sound coming from beneath the deck. They know immediately what it is. A cannon has broken lose from it's moorings and is rolling back and forth pounding the walls of the ship.

The sailors realize the cannon is much more dangerous than the waves. If someone does not secure it, it will bust a hole in the side of the ship, and they will sink. Two sailors risk their lives and, under great duress, they use their strength and finally secure the cannon.

In life, it's not the high winds nor the waves blowing us around that destroy us. It's what's inside. You cannot always choose when it's going to rain or when there's going to be a storm, but you can choose how you react to that storm.

My fellow staff member, Tim Henderson, often tells people he counsels, “It’s not what happens to you that matters. What matters is how you react to what happens to you.”

I have found in my nearly half a century that one of the most important components in living is one we can absolutely control. This component can be summarized in one word—attitude.