It's Not About Me

I finished up a good read today.....well not really a "good" read, an excellent one. I've been reading It's Not About Me by Max Lucado. His writing really gives a new perspective about your place in the world, how much God adores you, and how we as believers should be carrying the torch of the gospel. My favorite chapter is the last. I've typed it out below....

"So you like Jewish authors?"
The fellow asking the question sat on the aisle seat. I had the window, which meant I had a view of the runway. The mechanical crew was repairing a bird dent on the wing. While they worked, I read. As I read my Bible, the rabbi interrupted.
"So you like Jewish authors?"
The twinkle in his eye betrayed his pleasure in the question. His chest-length mop of a beard couldn't hide his smile. I had spotted him earlier in the waiting area. The tassels from his shirttail and hair-clipped yarmulke led me to peg him as the pios, silent type.
Pious. Yes. But silent? He loved to talk. He loved to talk Torah. I was in for a lesson. Tucked away in the ceremonies and laws of Moses, he explained, are pictures of God. Who could offer a sacrifce and not weep for God's grace? Who could read about servants redeeming their kinsmen and not think about God redeeming us? And who could reaqd the third commandment without remembering to live for God's glory?
I signaled a time-out, opened to Exodus, and read the third command: "You shall not take the name of the LORD your God in vain." (20:7) My puzzled experssion was enough to request an explaination.
"Don't think language; think lifestyle," he instructed. "The command calls us to elevate the name or reputation of God to the highest place. We exist to give honor to his name. May I illustrate?"
By now the damaged wing was fixed (the plane's; can't speak for the bird). And as we gained altitude, so did the rabbi. I took notes. He proceeded to create a story involving a Manhatten skyscraper. Everyone in the building works for the CEO, who offices the top floor. Most have not seen him, but they have seen his daughter. She works in the building for her father. She exploits her family position to her benefit.
One morning she approaches Bert, the guard. "I'm hungry, Bert. Go down the street and buy me a Danish."
The demand places Bert in a quandary. He's on duty. Leaving his post puts the building at risk. But his boss's daughter insists, "Come on now; hurry up."
What option does he have? As he leaves, he says nothing but thinks something like, If the daughter is so bossy, what does that say about her father?
She's only getting started. Munching on her muffin, she bumps into a paper-laden secretary. "Where are you going with all those papers?"
"To have them bound for an afternoon meeting."
"Forget the meeting. Come to my office and vacuum the carpet."
"But I was told..."
"And I am telling you something else."
The woman has no choice. After all, this is the boss's daughter speaking. Which causes the secretary to question the wisdom of the boss.
And on the daughter goes. Making demands. Calling shots. Interrupting schedules. Never invoking the name of her dad. Never leverging her comments with, "My dad said..."
No need to.
Isn't she the boss's child? Doesn't the child speak for the father? And so Bert abandons his post. An assistant fails to finish a task. And more than one employee questions the wisdom of the man upstairs. Does he really know what he is doing? they wonder.
The rabbi paused here. We both felt the plane nosing downward. His remaining time was short. But his point was clear. The girl dishonored the name of her father, not with the vulgar language, but with insensitive living. Keep this up and the whole building will be second-guessing the CEO.
But my traveling partner wasn't finished. He scratched his bearded chin and lifted both eyebrows as he propsed, "But what if the daughter acted differently?" and then proceeded to recast the story.
Rather than demand a muffin from Bert, she brings a muffin to Bert. "I thought of you this morning," she explains. " You arrive so early. Do you have time to eat? And she hands him the gift.
En route to the evelator she bumps into a woman with an armful of documents. "My, I'm sorry, Can I help?" the daughter offers. The assistant smiles, and the two carry the stacks down the hallway.
And so the daughter engages the people. She asks about their families, offers to bring them coffee. New workers are welcomed, and hard workers are applauded. She, through kindness and concern, raises the happiness level of the entire company.
She does so not even mentioning her father's name. Never does she declare, "My father says..." There is no need to. Is she not his child? Does she not speak on his behalf? Reflect his heart? When she speaks, they assume she speaks for him. And because they think highly of her, they think highly of her father.
They've not seen him.
They've not met him.
But they know his child, so they know his heart.
By now the flight was ending, and so was my Hebrew lesson. Thanks to the rabbi, the third command shouldered new meaning. Paul, another rabbi, would have appreciated the point. He wrote: " We are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were making an appeal through us" (2 Corinthians 5:20). The ambassador has a singular aim-to represent his king. He promotes the king's agenda, protects the king's reputation, and presents the king's will. The ambassador elevates the name of the king.
May I close this book with a prayer that we do the same? May God rescue us from self-centered thinking. May we have no higher goal than to see someone think more highly of our Father, our King. After all, in's not about....well, you an finish the sentence.
"You know how the story ends?" the rabbi asked as we were taxiing to a stop. Apparently a punch line.
"No, I don't. How?"
"The daughter takes the elevator to the top floor to see her father. When she arrives, he is waiting in the doorway. He's aware of her good works and has seen her kind acts. People think more highly of him because of her. And he knows it. As she approaches, he greets her with six words."
The rabbi paused and smiled.
"What are they?" I urged, never expecting to hear an orthodox Jew quote Jesus.


"Well done, good and faithful servant."

........May God sustain you until you hear the same........