Max Lucado from his book ‘Cure for the Common Life’ wrote:

Jesus . . . made Himself of no reputation . . . He humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death, even the death of the cross. Philippians 2:5, 7-8

My teenage acquaintances included a handful of Christians, none of whom were cool. One minister’s daughter passed on beer parties and gossip. As a result, she spent most lunch hours and Friday nights alone. A tennis player came back from a summer break with a Bible bumper sticker on his car and a smile on his face. We called him a Jesus freak.

My voice was among the mockers. It shouldn’t have been but it was. Somewhere inside I knew better, but I didn’t go there for advice. My parents took me to church. My minister told me about Christ. But did I make a big deal about God and the church? No. I had something far more important to promote.

My reputation. An athlete, a flirt, a beer drinker, a partyer. I polished and protected my reputation like a ’65 Mustang. What mattered most to me was people’s opinion of me.

But then I went off to college and heard a professor describe a Christ I’d never seen. A people-loving and death-defeating Christ. A Jesus who made time for the lonely, the losers . . . a Jesus who died for hypocrites like me. So I signed up. As much as I could, I gave him my heart.

Not long after that decision, I traveled home to meet some of the old gang. Only minutes into the trip I grew nervous. My friends didn’t know about my faith. I wasn’t sure I wanted them to. I remembered the jokes we told about the preacher’s daughter and the Jesus freak. Did I dare risk hearing the same about me? Didn’t I have my status to protect?

One can’t, at once, promote two reputations. Promote God’s and forget yours. Or promote yours and forget God’s. We must choose.

God grants us an uncommon life to the degree we surrender our common one.

Joseph did. Matthew describes Jesus’s earthly father as a craftsman (Matthew 13:55). He lives in Nazareth: a single-camel map dot on the edge of boredom. Joseph never speaks in the New Testament. He does much. He sees an angel. Marries a pregnant girl, and leads his family to Bethlehem and Egypt. He does much but says nothing. A small town carpenter who never said a scripture worthy word. Is Joseph the right choice? Doesn’t God have better options? An eloquent priest from Jerusalem or a scholar from the Pharisees? Why Joseph? A major part of the answer lies in his reputation: he gives it up for Jesus. “Then Joseph [Mary’s] husband, being a just man, and not wanting to make her a public example was minded to put her away secretly” (Matthew 1:19) ~Max Lucado, Cure for the Common Life (W Publishing Group, a Division of Thomas Nelson, Inc., P.O. Box 141000, Nashville, Tennessee 37214) 83-84  (continued)

 

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