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TD Jakes - Accountability


TD Jakes - Accountability
TOPICS: Accountability, Responsibility

I’m excited, I’m ready, I’m blessed, I’m inspired, I’m fired up! I’m ready to delve into the Word of God, and I believe that God is going to bless you tonight in a very special way. I want you to turn to the Book of Genesis with me as we prepare to explore the Word of God. I’ve got a message tonight that spoke to me powerfully, and I hope it resonates with you in the same manner. I will be teaching on accountability, so don’t log off; stay with me right now. Accountability—it’s a word we often avoid because we don’t like to be accountable to anything or anyone.

However, if you are going to be a disciple, you must have discipline. If you have discipline, you must be accountable. Accountability, in itself, is a form of worship because it acknowledges that there is someone I am accountable to, that I am not here by myself, that I am gifted, that I have something that has been commissioned to me—my strength, my health, my body, my talent, my resources, my job, my career, my mind, my IQ, my intellect—all of it is a gift given to me. Job said, «Naked came I into the world, and naked shall I return.» So all I have to do is recognize my responsibility to be accountable to God—not for what He gave you, nor for what He gave the guy down the street, but for the things that He has given me.

Now, if you’re just logging on and didn’t have a chance to give, throughout the time that I’m teaching, there will periodically be a prompt on the screen offering you an opportunity to sow into the Kingdom of God. You cannot reap what you do not sow. So, avail yourself of that opportunity. As we go into the Word of God, we are eager to dive in. Let’s turn to Genesis chapter 3, verses 6-9, and then we’ll move on to Genesis chapter 4, verses 4-9.

Hear the Word of the Lord: Genesis 3:6. «And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat, and gave also unto her husband with her, and he did eat. And the eyes of them both were opened, and they knew that they were naked; and they sewed fig leaves together and made themselves aprons. And they heard the voice of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and Adam and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God amongst the trees of the garden. And the Lord God called unto Adam and said unto him, 'Where art thou? '»

Okay, we will pause there for a moment. Oh Father, bless Your Word and sanctify it into our hearts and spirits. As we delve into Your Word, let us excavate from the treasures of Your Word those truths that are relevant to our lives and deepen our understanding of You. While we comprehend who You are and what You require of us, we also want it to be pertinent to our situation—a word that speaks to our lives in a special way. I thank You for what You’re going to do, and I believe You will do it; I trust You to do it in the name of Jesus. Amen.

We are in the Book of Genesis, which is the book of beginnings. Everything starts here concerning the understanding of God’s plan. It does not explain God; it does not claim to explain God; it is not meant to explain the creation, although it does chronicle the creation. The focus of the Bible is to reveal God’s plan for man’s redemptive salvation, so that we might come to a deeper understanding that Satan had a trap, but God had a plan. How do we walk into that plan? How did we get into trouble, and how do we get out? That is what we want to know.

Throughout our class tonight, I will give you five questions. You can call it an exam if you like, but these five questions are significantly important to me. They’re largely important because God is asking the questions, not me. God is asking the questions, not Moses, who is recorded to have written the Pentateuch. It is not Moses asking; God is asking the questions.

Now, you understand as well as I do that God created man from the dust of the earth, breathed into him the breath of lives, and he became a living soul. God created a garden and an environment for man to be fruitful, to multiply, to replenish, to subdue, and to have dominion—five things: be fruitful, multiply, replenish, subdue, and have dominion. God gave all of that over to man, put it in his hands, and placed the man and his wife in the garden. They’re walking around in the garden with only one commandment: everything is lawful to them except for one thing—the tree of life for their sustenance and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, which they are not to eat from.

There they are, in a period we call innocence, walking in the presence of God, worshiping Him, seeking Him, serving Him, and understanding Him. The Bible says that the woman had a conversation with Satan, who comes in the form of a serpent. He is not truly a serpent but comes in that form. Satan can manifest in many ways. The Bible says that he has transformed himself into an angel of light; he can come as a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He comes in the form of a serpent, and the Bible says that she enters into this conversation and engages him, which is a big mistake. She’s having a conversation with him, but she’s not alone; the man is with her.

The Bible says the man is with her, and the interesting thing is that we often challenge and chastise women for their responsibility in the process, but the reality is the man was there, too. He may not have been saying anything, but he was with her. You know how we men can be; sometimes we don’t speak up. She has this conversation with the serpent, and the serpent is trying to challenge what she knows about God. It is Satan’s job to come against what you know about God, and he starts saying, «Hath God said?» He spins the word of God to fit what he is trying to accomplish. Next thing you know, she partakes of the forbidden fruit.

Whatever that fruit was, I don’t know what it was, and neither do you or anyone else. We can speculate—apples, oranges, watermelons, maybe kumquats—but whatever it was, it could be symbolic of something that was not fruit at all. It could have been an action. I don’t know. Whatever it was that she was not supposed to do, she did it. The Bible talks about why she did it, though. It says that when she saw—let me get this right because I think this is important—the Bible says that when she saw that the tree was good for food (the lust of the flesh, hunger), and that it was pleasant to the eyes (the lust of the eye), and a tree to be desired to make one wise (the pride of life), she partook of the fruit.

Now, it’s important for you to understand what I just pointed out to you in those three things; they encompass all that the world has to offer: the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life. The Bible will later say that’s all that’s in the world. In this seductive process that occurs between them, the enemy uses everything available to him. That’s all he has to work with—to tempt you, to tempt me, to tempt any of us. The specifics might differ; it may not be bread, but it is always the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye (something he exposes you to), or the pride of life (your ego, your pride)—those issues not solely driven by passions, the lust of the flesh, or by illicit wandering of the eye, the lust of the eye.

The third category, the pride of life, is everything he has to use, and that’s what God is concerned about. We might focus on the details of sin, but God categorizes sin. The Bible says that Jesus was tempted in all points like we are—and yet without sin—but He wasn’t tempted in all ways. He couldn’t be tempted in all ways since He wasn’t married. He couldn’t be tempted to cheat on a wife. Certain details simply weren’t applicable to Him due to His situation because, at the essence, the points matter: the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life.

When Jesus was baptized in the Jordan River and went into the wilderness to be tempted, He, too, was tempted in the same way. «If thou be the Son of God, turn this stone to bread"—the lust of the flesh. You’re hungry; you’ve been fasting for 40 days. «You know you’re hungry. Use your power to turn something into something else to satisfy the lust of the flesh.»

Jesus rebuked him with the Word of God. «Come here; let me show you all these kingdoms, and I will give them to you if you bow down and worship me.» This is the lust of the eye—look at what I can give you! Then he takes him up to a high place and says, «If you bow down and worship me, I will give you power; I will make you ruler.» This is the pride of life. That’s all the enemy has to work with.

You pass these three tests, you’ve got it. She didn’t pass the test. Not only did she partake of the fruit, but she also gave it to her husband, and he did eat. That’s when all hell broke loose—pardon my expression. It wasn’t when the woman partook of the fruit; it was when the man did. The Bible states that when Adam fell, all of mankind fell in him, because of him. Why? Eve was deceived; the scriptures are clear on that—it does not say that Adam was deceived. Eve was deceived; Adam was not. He made a conscious choice to die with his bride, whereas the last Adam made a conscious choice, a decision first in the Garden of Gethsemane, ultimately executed on the cross, to die for his bride. One died with his bride; one died for his bride.

When Adam died with his bride, boom! Their eyes were opened; innocence was gone. It’s a terrible thing to lose your innocence. Some of you know what I’m saying. You lose your naivety, and all of a sudden, you see things from a perspective you’ve never seen before, exposed to something you shouldn’t have been exposed to. Boom! Their eyes were opened, and they knew that they were naked.

This is powerful stuff I’m sharing with you tonight. They knew they were naked. You cannot convict someone of a crime if they do not know they committed it. If they didn’t know, it might be manslaughter, but it can’t be murder; sometimes it can’t even be manslaughter if they are judged incompetent to comprehend right from wrong. That’s why they bring in psychologists in court cases to ensure that the person is competent enough to stand trial. Do you know what you’re saying? That’s why they read you your Miranda rights and ask whether you understand what they’re saying. Because they have to ensure that you’re competent. The Bible is clear—they knew! And because they knew, their eyes were opened. They knew they were naked; they were afraid; they hid themselves.

They heard the voice of God walking through the cool of the garden. They both heard Him. They both ran and hid; they were afraid. They heard His voice. Let me emphasize: they heard His voice. They knew they were naked. Instead of coming out and saying, «I made a mistake, and I don’t know how to fix this,» they were afraid and hid themselves. Anytime you see someone hiding, it’s not just because they are wicked; it’s a deeper issue because they were afraid, they knew they had heard, they were afraid, they hid. That’s what shutting down is. It’ll help you understand people; it’ll help you understand your children, your co-workers, your employees, and others you go to church with. They heard God; they knew they were naked, and they were afraid. The voice of the Lord walked through the cool of the garden.

Now they heard, they knew, they were afraid, and they were naked. The Bible says they sowed fig leaves to cover themselves, aprons so that they would not be naked. Both of them did everything together. They were both partakers of the fruit. But God does not call them. The Bible says God cried out, «Adam, where art thou?» Now tonight, we’re talking about accountability. We’re not just rehearsing the story of Adam and Eve; we’re really after accountability.

Accountability says, first of all, that there is somebody above me. I’m not accountable if you’re not above me. I’m accountable to the person who has given me stewardship. I’m accountable to the one who has gifted me. I’m accountable if I take a loan from the bank. I don’t take the money and give it to the neighbor across the street because I’m not accountable to the neighbor; I’m accountable to the one who has gifted me. God has gifted them; God has planted them in the garden; God has given them dominion; God has given them authority. They are accountable to God. That’s why when they heard His voice, they knew they were naked, they were afraid, and they hid themselves because they were accountable.

All of a sudden, that accountability has been challenged. But this is what I’m after: when the voice of the Lord walks through the cool of the garden, God, who is omnipotent and all-powerful, who is omnipresent in all places at all times, who is omniscient and knows all things, now asks a question. When God, who is omniscient and knows all things, asks a question, do you really think He wants you to inform Him of something He doesn’t know, or is it a rhetorical question? It is the first of five questions I’m going to give you tonight, and I’m going to get out of your way. God Almighty comes walking down through the cool of the garden and asks Adam a very simple yet complex question to answer: «Where art thou?» He didn’t ask, «Where is Eve?» He didn’t ask, «Where is the serpent?» He didn’t ask, «Where’s the fruit you left laying on the ground?»

He didn’t ask that. He didn’t ask, «Where’s the money?» He didn’t ask anything. He said, «Where art thou?» He didn’t ask you, «Where are your friends?» or «Where’s your family?» No, no, «Where art thou?» God wants to know, «Where are you?» Accountability over oneself—that’s the first step to healing and restoration. For you to come to grips with, «Where am I? Where am I in life?» The Bible says in Isaiah chapter 6 that the angel cried out, «Who will go and work for us?» and the answer came from Isaiah: «Here am I, send me. I’ll go.» «Here am I» is open disclosure. «Here am I» means nothing to hide. I’m coming out from behind the bushes. Adam has hidden himself among the trees, covered himself with fig leaves. Maybe he thought God would think he was a tree. He has tried to look like who he’s with, but he’s not.

Have you fellowshiped with trees to the point that you’ve lost your identity? You tried to look like one of them but you really weren’t one of them, and you sewed on a little fig apron so that you would appear like you were one of them, and you’re in the club with them. You hang out with them, you laugh at their jokes, and you listen to their stories, and you try to fit in. Man is designed and wired to want to fit in. Adam is hiding himself among the trees, dressed in fig leaves, but he’s not a tree; he’s just dressed like one. Camouflage. Some of you are hiding out in places that you are not really a part of, but you’re hiding out with them because you want so much to belong. You’ve gotten away from God, and you’re disconnected from God, so you want to be connected with trees.

You’re not a tree! Take the fig leaves off! You’re not a tree! You’re hanging with trees, but you’re not a tree. You look like a tree, but you’re not a tree. You do what they do, you wear what they wear, you go where they go, but you’re really not one of them. God is calling you out of the sociological construct that you have built around yourself to hide in, and God is saying to you—not them, not they—"Where are you?» Where are you? It’s a hard question to answer sometimes. Where are you in your life? Where are you in your head? Where are you in your mind? Where are you in your understanding of God? Where are you?

You come home, but you’re not at home. You go to work, but you’re not at work. You go to church, but sometimes you’re really not there, and people don’t notice that you’re missing, but God knows that you’re missing, that you’ve lost yourself in your circumstances, that you’ve lost yourself in your environment, that you’ve lost yourself in your problems, that you’ve lost yourself in your crisis, that you’ve lost yourself in the situation. God is calling you, as you are, naked, exposed—all things are open before Him with whom we have to do—and God is saying, «Adam, you may be uncomfortable; you may be afraid, but I call you out. You’re not a tree! Where are you?»

Accountability over oneself. Introspection is some of the hardest work to do—to really force yourself to locate yourself: «Where am I? Where am I really? Am I here? Am I really here? When I’m present, am I really present, or is my body in one place and my head in another?» How do I get it all back together again when it feels like it’s all shattered and coming apart? God is saying, «Adam, hey Adam, where art thou?» It’s a wake-up call. It’s not really God wanting you to inform Him; it is God giving you a chance for self-discovery. Accountability over oneself: «Where art thou?» Not «Where is your wife?» Not «Where is the serpent?» Not «Where are all the people that got you into this trouble?» No! You’ll never get better until you come to grips with this first question: «Where art thou?»

I’m a drug addict hiding in drugs. I’m hiding in problems; I’m hiding in sin. I’m hiding in sex; I’m hiding in trouble. Here I am, afraid, yeah, naked, yeah, ashamed—probably. Here am I; I come out with my hands up. You got me! I’ve located myself, not just so that I can come to you, but also so that I can come to myself. You remember when the prodigal son said he had gone and spent all of his substance on riotous living and spent it on harlots? When he ran out of money and all of his friends left, he ended up in the hog pen.

The Bible said he came to himself. What do you think that means? That he was unconscious? Absolutely not! He was about to eat the food that the swine did eat. He was not unconscious, but the Bible uses a word that sounds like he was unconscious, as if somebody comes to themselves. Sometimes God will say, «Hey, hey, hey! Wake up! Where are you? Where are you right now? Where art thou?» That’s the first question. Where are you in your marriage, in your ministry, in your heart, in your life? It is a hard question because it requires absolute honesty, and it’s so much easier to talk about where other people are and what they need to do and what’s going on in their life and what’s wrong with them.

What was wrong with your mother? What was wrong with your father? What was wrong with your neighborhood? What was wrong with your school teachers? What was wrong with your preacher? God is asking you about them; He’s asking you about you. «Where art thou, Adam?» Adam starts talking about everybody else. «Well, the woman Thou gave me—» you know, excuses. She says, «A serpent.» No, no—accountability over oneself! I’m challenging you to come to yourself and say, «Yeah, I heard that voice. I came to church; I’m listening to the Bible class. I was naked, I hid myself, I was afraid, and I hid myself. I heard. I knew. I heard that voice. I was afraid. No, I heard the voice. I knew I was naked. I hid myself.»

Let’s go deeper into this, if we will. Let’s go just a little bit deeper. He is hiding out with the trees. He and the woman had pulled together some fig leaves and had made aprons. The moment they pulled the fig leaves, the fig leaves were just like the man and the woman. The fig leaves were separated from their source of life, tied to a branch. Jesus said, «I am the vine.» The vine goes into the soil. Jesus said, «Except ye abide in Me, and I in you.» And all of a sudden, he has disconnected the fig leaves. You know why? He’s disconnecting other things because he’s disconnected. Hurt people hurt people. Disconnected people want to disconnect other people.

He disconnected the fig leaves because he is disconnected, and he’s just like them. While he’s sewing them, they’re dying, and the one who’s sewing them is dying, and they’re both dying because they’re separated—not because they cease to exist. Death in the Scriptures is not the sensation of life. Death in the Scriptures is separation. «Where art thou?» «Where art thou?» Right now—what’s up with you? That’s what God is saying. That’s what God is saying: What’s up with you? Where are you? I know how I created you. I know how I left you. I know how I formed you. I blew the breath of life into your nostrils; I caused your lungs to breathe. I know you! This is not you! Where art thou? That’s question number one: self-accountability.

I’ve got to come back to me. I am not one of these trees! I don’t care how many fig leaves I put on; I’m really not one of them! I dress like they dress; I walk like they walk; I laugh at their jokes; I go to the Christmas party with them, but I’m really not one of them! God says stop dressing up like something you’re not. You know you’re not a tree; you’re a man! Come out from behind those trees because I want to deal with you. Can I go deeper tonight? I think we’re having a talk with God, and I think that’s a very important thing.

In Genesis 4:4-9, we find Cain and Abel. Now Cain and Abel have been born; they are the children of Adam and Eve. This is after the fall; they have been born in sin. They were not born before their parents fell; had they been born before their parents fell, perhaps they would have had eternal life. But now they’ve got damnation; they’re born in sin and shaped in iniquity because they are born under the curse of their parents. And now that they have grown up, the Bible says Abel also brought of the firstling of his flock and of the fat thereof, and the Lord had respect unto Abel and to his offering. But unto Cain and to his offering, He had not respect, and Cain was very wroth, and his countenance fell. And the Lord said unto him, «Why art thou wroth?»

Question number two: «Why are you angry? What are you angry about, Cain? Why are you angry? Are you comparing yourself with Abel? Are you envious of your neighbor? Are you upset with the other church down the street, the other choir, the other singer, the other vocalists? Why are you angry? Are you upset with your sister or your brother? Why are you angry? You’ve got to get down to why you’re angry.» God is asking questions. The Judge of the Universe has hit the scaffold, and He’s questioning the witness.

«Why are you angry?» You’ll never get better until you answer that question. There have been times in my life when I said I was angry and didn’t even know I was angry. I’d argue with somebody, try to talk to me: «You’re angry.» I’d say, «I am not angry. I’m not angry. I’m good, man. I’m good. I’m fine. See? I’m good.» About an hour and a half later, I came to myself, and I thought, «Oh my God! I am angry!» I was talking nice about people that I was secretly even hidden from myself angry with.

«Why are you angry?» The truth of the matter with Cain is that Cain was angry because God had respect unto Abel’s sacrifice, and God had blessed Abel, and He had rejected Cain. Cain felt rejection, alienation, and separation, and he was angry. He was so angry. I’m talking to somebody tonight: beneath all the makeup, eyelashes, nice dresses, suits, ties, jeans, whatever you wear, beneath all of that camouflage, you’re angry! That’s why the marriage isn’t working; that’s why the job isn’t prospering—because you’re angry. You’re angry like Cain. You’re angry like Hannah. Hannah was angry. You remember Hannah in the Bible? She was angry with Peninnah, and she finally went to church. She had to pour out before she could ever receive. She wanted to have a child; there was no room to have a child. She was full of anger. You can’t be pregnant with life and death.

In the old church, we used to call it «purge,» and they’d put you on the altar and have you calling on Jesus unti you started foaming in the mountain; it wasn’t a pretty sight. But they have you calling and calling and calling. They call it purging. Sometimes we need to do that—not the way the old church did, but we need to get whatever that is on the inside out. If it’s tears, if it’s anger, if it’s frustration, it’s got to come out. You can’t control it down in there forever; you’re going to explode; you’re going to implode.

The second question of accountability is, are you accountable for your emotions? You are accountable for how you feel. You’re not accountable for how others feel; you’re not accountable for them; you’re accountable for you. That’s why forgiveness is a gift you give yourself. So, you’re accountable for you. Where are you? Why are you angry? You’re accountable for how you feel. I’m not saying you’re not justified, but you’re accountable for how you feel. You can’t control what life hurls at you; you can’t control what people think of you; you can’t even control what they say about you. The only thing you can control is how you respond to it. You can control whether you let it in or whether you allow it to change you. Why are you angry? I know you can. This is not you.

The third question—let me go to the third question. I feel something starting to crack open; I don’t know who it is, but I’m going to ride it till I break it. Number three: Why has your countenance fallen? You don’t even look like yourself walking around. You don’t look like yourself. I know you; I made you; I created you. God is saying, why has your countenance fallen? Over here, the joy of the Lord is your strength. And if the enemy had his way with you and did what he wanted to do, he would take your joy away until your countenance falls. Because when your countenance falls, so does your strength.

And God said, look at you; you don’t look right; you’re not yourself. Why has your countenance fallen? Why have you allowed this to affect the way you present yourself? When you come to work on defense and you went to choir rehearsal on guard, and you come in the house ready—I’m ready; don’t you even try it! I wish you would! Look at you; what’s wrong with you? Why has your countenance fallen? Why has the light gone out in your eyes? Why has the enthusiasm drained out of you? You don’t look right. God made you, and He says, I hold you accountable for how you present yourself, and you’re not doing a good job.

So, we have three questions of accountability. The first one is to find you: where are you? And after you deal with not being present and being hidden in your own life, hidden from pain, living in fear of being hurt again, and scared of disappointment to the point that you’ve contorted yourself into something that you don’t even recognize anymore, after you deal with that, why are you angry? Why are you angry? Number three: why has your countenance fallen? The kids can tell; the dog can tell; the cat can tell; everybody can tell. You used to be the light in the house; you used to be the life of the party; you used to be the person everybody was waiting on. Why has your countenance fallen? Why have you now distorted how you present yourself? You’ve turned into something you really are not.

I have to do what I have to do. I have to wait—wait, wait, wait—why has your countenance fallen? And then number four—I’m almost through with God’s exam for accountability—but number four is a doozy. I’ll say it in King James language: if thou doest not well, will I not receive you? Did I not give you the same opportunity that I gave him? You see, the problem with Cain is that he has made the mistake of his father. His father and mother sold fig leaves around themselves, and now Cain is trying to offer God the same cursed stuff that his parents did. It’s a generational curse. He is operating as his parents did before they were covered by the blood. He’s offering God the fruit of the ground; he’s offering God works. No man can be saved by works. He’s offering God that which has been cursed, that which comes from the ground. He’s offering God the sins of his parents. Abel, on the other hand, is offering God what God required, what God Himself went and got for his mother and father and covered them with coats of skin. This kind of sacrifice says, without the shedding of blood, there is no remission of sins. This is a sacrifice that God will accept.

Then God hits Cain with the facts: I’m not mad at you; I don’t dislike you; I don’t hate you; I haven’t cursed you. You had the same opportunity that Abel did. Don’t be angry with people because they sacrificed in ways that you wouldn’t. Don’t be angry with people who make better choices when you could make them too. God hits him with the truth: I am not a respecter of persons, but I am a respecter of sacrifice. If you do what Abel did, you could get what Abel’s got. This is the turning point of the text. This fourth question, to me, is the crux of the whole issue. It is simply this: why don’t you fix this? All Cain had to do right here was walk over to Abel and say, «Show me how to do what you’re doing.» But that would require humility. All he had to do was get clarification, go back out there, and ask God, and do what Abel did.

«If thou doest not well, will I not receive you?» is an opportunity. To me, it is the most powerful question. Number four is the most powerful question. If you get it right, you’ll never even have number five. If you get it right, you can start over again. If you get it right, you can change the trajectory of your entire life. Why don’t you fix this between you and your daughter? You can’t be responsible for how they respond; you can only be responsible for how you feel. Why don’t you fix this? You’ve always felt less-than because you made less money, and you felt less successful than somebody else.

Why don’t you fix this? Why don’t you focus and stop making excuses, and stop being angry, and stop letting your countenance fall, and stop losing yourself in your chaos and your crisis? Why don’t you stop hanging out with the trees? Why don’t you fix this? This is grace; this is the fourth question, but this is grace all day long: «If thou doest not well, will I not receive you?» Cain never answered the question. Some of you go to church, and you clap your hands, and you know the gospel songs. You play Kirk Franklin in the car and all that kind of stuff, and you have some of my CDs, and you listen to Bishop Evans and different ones. All that’s great, but the question is, why don’t you fix this? You know, but why don’t you fix this?

«If thou doest not well, will I not receive you?» No, he wouldn’t listen. So he walks away, still angry, countenance still fallen, refusing to fix what needs to be fixed. One day when he was out in the field, and Abel came out into the field, he killed his brother. Who are you killing over what you will not fix? Is it your daughter? Are you killing her with your anger over your ex? Is it your son? Are you killing him while trying to prove a point to somebody who went off and married someone else because you’re angry? Anger unchecked always leads to murder—murder of reputation, murder of opportunity, murder of something—but it always leads to murder. Anger unchecked can set you 40 years off schedule; it’ll set you behind. Why don’t you fix this? Cain killed his brother—his own brother—because he didn’t deal with his own self. He killed his brother; his brother never did anything to him—not one thing. People will kill you who you never did anything to because of their own issues. Why don’t you fix this?

And this is what gets me—this right here is what gets me. All he had to do was kill a lamb, but because he would not kill a lamb, he killed a man. This is what Jesus means when He says, «My yoke is easy, and My burdens are light.» What I’m asking you for is easier than what you’re about to do. I only wanted a lamb, not a man. But a man is coming much later in the story; His name is called Jesus. It’s not Abel, but you ended up shedding innocent blood because you wouldn’t deal with yourself. Review: Where are you? Why are you angry? Why has your countenance fallen? Why don’t you fix this? You’re accountable for yourself; you’re accountable for your emotions; you’re accountable for how you present yourself, and you’re accountable for the change of your behavior. Why don’t you fix this?

No, I won’t listen. I’ll go to church, but I won’t listen. I’ll listen to music, but I won’t listen. I’ll sing in the choir, but I won’t listen. I’ll let this stuff hide in my heart all my life; I won’t listen. I’ll pastor, but I won’t listen. I’ll be a bishop, but I won’t listen. I’ll be a businessman, but I won’t listen. I’m going to be—this is just how I am—stubborn. And now you kill your brother. Now you beat your wife in front of your son and daughter; now you attack your husband, scratching up his face like a cat. But you’re going to still get ready for choir rehearsal? Why don’t you fix this? He killed his brother. I cannot tell you how many people kill their marriages, kill their opportunities, kill their careers. I admit I’ve self-sabotaged myself. I understand what it’s like; I get it. I’m not exempt from it; I’m not above it. I am one from among you. I’m just preaching the book; I’m teaching this book to you tonight to tell you that if you don’t offer up the lamb, you’re going to end up killing the man. And here comes God up to Cain, just like He walked up to his father and said, «Adam, where are you?»

He walks up to Cain and asks him a question—question number five: Where is your brother? Question number five suggests to us that we are accountable for the people around us. Some things we endure not because we like them, not because we enjoy them, not because we’re happy, and not because it’s what we want to do. Some things we endure for the betterment of the people we love—that you are accountable for the person at the desk across from you, and for the altar who sings behind you, and for the neighbor who lives down the street. God is watching how you treat other people.

And when you get through slashing them, you’re good at it because you never let go of that anger, and you’ve never fixed your countenance, and you’ve never fixed your issues, and you’re a slasher. God said, I heard the blood of your brother crying out to me from the ground. Don’t you think you’re accountable for those people you slashed with your tongue or your text, or for the trolls on social media? Don’t you think God is going to hold you accountable for slashing people to ribbons just because you have a knife sharp enough to do it? That doesn’t mean you should go ahead and slash your brother.

I heard the blood of your brother crying out to me from the ground. Where is your brother? And Cain is still smart-mouthed; he answers the question with a question: I don’t know; am I my brother’s keeper? He’s not a bad person, though God loved him; God challenged him; God examined him. But He does hold him accountable. When Cain got through, Abel is now dead. The first family has their first murder, and Cain is driven into the land of Nod, never to be gathered with his family again. Adam and Eve are grieving because they’ve lost two sons simply because they would not answer the questions of accountability. We’re accountable for ourselves: Where are you? We’re accountable for our feelings, our emotions, our moods, our attitudes.

Why are you angry? You’re accountable for the spirit you carry on your face and bring to work and around other people. Why has your countenance fallen? You’re accountable for the lack of taking responsibility to do the hard work of fixing stuff. And it is hard, and it is difficult. But God is saying, if you do not do well… I did not receive you; that means number four is: why don’t you fix this? Because if you don’t, you’re going to lose your brother. Your brother may be your husband; he may be your wife; he may be your children; he may be your future.

Where is our brother? I only ask you for a lamp, so tonight we’re talking about accountability. We’re talking about hard work here. This might sound easy, it might go quickly, it might be tasty, it might be fun. You might be writing all kinds of wonderful stuff down and sending it to me—thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you—but the reality is, if you really take this accountability exam tonight, it’s truly hard work. Honest to goodness, I tell you it’s hard work, and it’s not a test you only take once in your life; you go through it again and again and again. I know what I’m talking about; I’ve taken this test over and over again. I’m there, but I’m not there. I’m here, but I’m not here. I’m doing it, but I’m not doing it.

«Adam, where art thou?» I hide amongst the trees; I dress like them, I act like them. I really wasn’t one of them, but they kept me company in my agony. You’re not one of them; I call you out from the trees. You dress like Adam. Where are you? Why are you angry? Now that’s a killer; that’s a tough one. Because sometimes a grown man is angry over little boy stuff, and sometimes the reason the beautiful young woman, all dressed up and smelling good, just a real cutie pie, turns into an alley cat is because the little girl in her is still hurting.

Why are you angry? And you scratch everybody away over somebody in your history. Why do you run around with your countenance fallen? You’re accountable for carrying a better spirit on your face, and you do. So why don’t you fix this? Why do you let the silence fill your house and fill your life until the kids can feel the tension? Why don’t you fix this? I tried, I tried; I couldn’t do it. Go back again. God is holding you accountable, because if you don’t do the hard work of humbling yourself and fixing this, and being accountable for your choices and your decisions and your behavior, and stop telling yourself the lie that you’re cursed, you’re not cursed; you’re loved. It’s not too late; you’re not in too deep. It’s just going to take a little sweat, and it may take a little time to raise a lamb.

I don’t know; you may have to breed them; it may be next year. But why don’t you get on the road to fixing this before you end up at the fifth question: where is the brother? Tonight we talk about accountability, and it’s something we all have to do over and over again, doing check-ups and physicals, and taking exams repeatedly at different moments in our lives. We don’t always pass the test, I will admit it, but we must take the test over and over again until we get the courage to answer. Because Cain is here to teach us that questions we do not answer turn into murder, and we don’t need another thing to die—not me, not you, not us, not now.

We don’t need another thing to die because we were too hard, too tough, too stubborn to answer the question: accountability. That’s what he gave me to share tonight, and I’m sharing it with you. You best believe that God wouldn’t have me share it if you didn’t need it. I don’t know exactly what he’s talking about; I’m just a mailman. I didn’t open the letter; I just dropped it off at your house. I don’t know what names to call, I don’t know what streets they live on; I don’t know anything about them other than that God sent me to ask you the question. You have to come up with the answers; God bless you, I’m praying for you. Let’s pray right now.

Oh my God, this is hard work; this is a tough test. The questions are deep and complicated. They sound simple and mundane, ritualistic, maybe even trivial, but when you really dig into them, they are heart-hurt, painful, gut-wrenching work. Rehabilitation work, reconfiguring work, reconstructing work. But if that’s what it takes, I hold myself accountable. I hold my emotions accountable; I hold the way I present myself accountable, and I hold my decisions and choices accountable. I’m going to fix this, and I am going to be accountable, Lord, for the people around me. I’m going to love better, I’m going to live better, I’m going to be nicer, I’m going to be kinder, I’m going to be more considerate, I’m going to be better. Help me to be better. I know I’ll never be perfect, but let me be better. In Jesus' name, amen.