Thoughts - Acts 28:17

“After three days he called together the local leaders of the Jews, and when they had gathered, he said to them, 'Brothers, though I had done nothing against our people or the customs of our fathers, yet I was delivered as a prisoner from Jerusalem into the hands of the Romans.'” - Acts 28:17

I felt compelled to read this passage last night, even though I wasn't exactly sure why. What struck me there is, to me at least, fascinating, and so I thought I should share it.

It won't be news to most people that the life of the Christian is all about relationship. Obviously, the first and foremost relationship is that with God. Beyond that, the Scriptures also have a lot to say about our relationships with fellow Christians and with the world at large. There is, however, in relationship an element that, I find, is very easy to miss: identity. And in this passage, Paul subtly but effectively addresses what happens with one's identity when one joins with Christ.

First, the rather obvious, but important, background information. Paul was a Jew. Judaism had (and has) a peculiarly strong self-identity, having survived persecution, deportation, and dispersion by clinging to the knowledge of one God and to the law He had given. Beyond that, Paul was a Jew's Jew, a Pharisee who had studied under a man who is still well-noted even today, Gamaliel. In other words, Paul lived deeply into a group that took its identity very seriously. Thus it was that, when a new “sect” appeared to threaten to tear apart Judaism, Paul was zealous in trying to destroy it and save his people. His plans, however, were upset by Jesus in a very powerful way, and, in a noteworthy switch, it became his mission to reach the Gentile population with the Gospel.

After many circumlocutions and go-arounds, Paul got himself arrested in Jerusalem, and was forced to appeal to Caesar to pull his fate out of Judean politics. To appear before Caesar, one had to go to Rome, and we join the story three days after Paul got there, after a very hazardous journey. We don't know what he did those first three days, but on the fourth day, Paul called together the local Jewish leadership. It was kind of a “getting to know you” meeting, Paul's hope being to convince them to let him share the Gospel with the entirety of the Jewish population in the area. And he was successful – until he gave the actual message to the group and the inevitable split reaction and conflict broke out, that is.

The important thing to note here is Paul's way of addressing the Jews in the two messages recorded. In verse 17, they are “brothers”, fellow Jews and co-heirs of the promise to Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and the prophets. Later on, though, when a fair number of them had decided to adamantly reject his message, Paul refers to “your fathers” (v. 25) - “yours”, not “ours”. From this, I see three important lessons.

First, joining with Christ fundamentally changes a person's identity. The change of allegiance in the spiritual realm makes it impossible for one to comfortably fit in one's old way of life. “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” (2 Corinthians 5:17)

Second, this change doesn't mean that we cannot or should not reach out to our former compatriots. Paul, although he knew that his mission was really to the Gentiles, nonetheless insisted on reaching out to his people first. That's why, if you go through Acts, Paul routinely enters a city and heads straight to the synagogue. Generally, what would happen is that a significant group would reject him and start a ruckus, but he at least felt that he had to try. And, as it was, though there wasn't usually a mass acceptance of Christ, at least a few would generally be willing. I imagine this fact is what convinced Paul to keep trying in each new place.

Third, when it became evident that he had done all he could, Paul was willing to lay aside his identity with the group in favor of his identity with God. Because he recognized the fundamental conflict between being Christian and being Hebrew, when he saw hearts hardening in rebellion to God's plan he was quick to separate himself from them. It's not that he ceased to be Jewish; it's that he recognized that these fellow countrymen who refused Christ couldn't be part of his highest identity, and he had chosen to value his identity in Christ over any other.

In other words, Paul had a previous, overarching identity, and one that was, in general, a good one. Even so, he recognized that, having joined Christ, his citizenship was in heaven. (Philippians 3:20) So, while the new citizenship did not mean that he couldn't relate to his former people, it did make it impossible for him to ever again be fully accepted into that group, or to fully accept them. Until, and this is most important, he could show them and bring them into the new relationship as well. And that proved a very effective motivation for his life and ministry!

Thoughts - "Social Justice"

This was written before I really got together my format for the Thoughts. I happened to think of it this evening, so I thought I'd put it up. Enjoy!
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But What Is Social Justice?

Over recent months, I've heard the words "social justice" a lot. What's rather more amazing is just how much I've heard those particular words repeated. Actually, what's interesting in that is that the words seem to be used to the exclusion of any synonymous words or phrases, to the point that I fear the phrase has become merely a buzzword. That's unfortunate, yet understandable, because, while we talk about social justice, about how important it is, etc., what we've failed to do is say what it actually is.

Now to some it may seem rather pedantic to go over a phrase with such an obvious meaning. And, on one level, that's true. However, the more I hear it used, the less convinced I am that we have truly figured out what it means. I think we have some ideas, but nothing cohesive or comprehensive enough to be at all useful.

Connected with that problem is the problem of what do we do with what we know. To put it simply, if we don't know what social justice truly is, how on earth can we put it in practice? Sure, we have some examples, but are they the only, or even the best, ways?

Let me submit to you a candidate for a working definition. I'll take it straight from the horse's (er, Savior's) mouth: "Thou shalt ... love thy neighbor as thyself." (Matt. 5:39) Now, that may appear a little too obvious. However, I would say three things regarding that: 1) simple is good for a childlike faith, 2) for fun, I asked a random Christian to provide a synonym for social justice, and it took them a couple minutes to reach this point, so it's apparently not as obvious as it looks, and 3) it provides some important insights into the topic that should be pulled out. Let me flesh out #3 a bit more.

First, this definition says something about the scope of "social justice." Jesus did a good job of explaining who our neighbor is - see the parable of the Good Samaritan. I'll simply add that even the Samaritan didn't have unlimited resources or reach, but he did well by being ready when God did put someone in his path. We certainly can't help everyone ourselves, but we also can't help but find someone who needs the kind of love Christ commands us to give. Since none of us is a hermit, finding a “neighbor” in need shouldn't be too hard.

Second, it says something about the level of social justice. Just as most of us have no lack of love for ourselves, so we are to spread our love to as many others as possible.

So, are you feeling better now? This isn't so bad. But there are a couple of other things that need to be pulled out:

The third thing this passage addresses is how we approach social justice. Even a cursory understanding of the human condition in the Christian worldview reveals nothing deserving of love in any of us, but instead much that seems completely unlovable. But, although it flies in the face of the demands of justice, we continue to love ourselves, in a kind of self-mercy. Because of this, I find Social Justice to be a rather odd term – if we love ourselves via mercy, not justice, then what place can true justice have in our love for others? The kind of love we are called to give goes beyond, even contrary to, reason and justice – it's an extravagant love, not unlike what Christ showed to us in His crucifixion. It's a love that won't be fulfilled by putting money in an offering plate, a love that won't be satisfied with an afternoon in a soup kitchen, a concern for others that refuses to say “that's enough.” It's also, I might add, as much for myself as others, a love that not only is willing, but desires to turn the other cheek to a slight or injustice against oneself.

Fourth, and finally, it places social mercy in its proper context. As Christ Himself said, loving one's neighbor is only the second-greatest commandment (Matt. 5:39a). Social ministry never supersedes the greatest commandment, to give God His proper worship, in the fullest meaning of the term. Quite bluntly, the social gospel is no gospel of Christ's. You can feed billions, clothe millions, even save thousands from the horrors of human trafficking, and be a total failure in the greater picture. Honestly, what good will a warm fuzzy feeling for you, or a full stomach for them, do when both of you are burning in eternal torment? (see Matt. 18:9) Social mercy is pointless outside of the framework of godliness, and such a framework cannot be attained by putting God in the backseat. God demands that He be placed first and foremost in our lives, not just for His glory, but also for our benefit. Because, interestingly enough, God, in all His God-liness, loved us so much that He died to save us, the greatest act of social mercy ever to occur. If the goal of Christianity is godliness, then, as we mature in Christ, how much greater will our motivation to minister to our neighbors be, and how much more will we be able to love them in a way that can not only provide for them now, but give them greater treasures above?

When all is said and done, it is #4 that truly defines how social “justice” (really mercy) works. It's not contrived, it's not conjured up, it's not random. It's not something to just up and do either. True social ministry can only happen when we are in an intimate relationship with God. When that is the case, we'll see who we are, who we can help, and be driven to help them in a way that serves God's will. When you're working within God's will, it doesn't matter whether you're feeding the hungry, donating to a project somewhere else, or simply listening to the person down the hall – all are true social mercy, and will bear fruit for the Kingdom of God. When you leave God out of it, or use Him as a figurehead for your own ideas, the best of intentions will be misdirected, misapplied, and end up being a hindrance to God's plan.

Thoughts - Matthew 11:28

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
- Matthew 11:28

The Christian life, as commonly understood, can be an extremely busy one. The business of saving souls demands a lot of giving by a lot of people. Even in the Bible, the working, giving nature of the Faith is repeatedly stressed, leading to innumerable discussions of spiritual gifts, methods of evangelism, varieties of social ministry, whole laundry lists of church activities, and so on, and so on, and so on. It leads to a lot of exciting work, and even more exciting results. It also leads to incredible fatigue.

Which is why a lesson that I learned myself only a couple weeks ago continues to stick out so prominently in my mind. I've been very busy lately doing God's work, both in direct ministry and in getting things together to continue following His calling on my life. It's all good stuff, but, after one particularly eventful weekend, I was completely exhausted.

My automatic response to this, being a good Christian, was to pray. And God answered, by providing for me an extremely refreshing nap. As I woke up later, He reminded me of the main verse for today.

OK, I realize that it wasn't the most exciting story. Even so, remarkably, the experience has significantly modified my view of the Christian life, by showing me a couple truths I had missed. Or possibly ignored.

First, for all of our “doing”, Christ's goal was to give us rest, not burden us with work. “I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” (John 10:10) - sounds more like joy than toil. The old system of the law gave us an unbearable burden, and the Jews literally worked themselves into exhaustion attempting to pull it. Christ alone could pull the load, and He invited us (Matthew 11:29-30) to come along with Him, so He could pull it instead of us.

Second, even more basically, Christ's goal was to give. It's true that “It is more blessed to give than to receive.” (Acts 20:35) But realize that, with God, there's very little we can give. Beyond that, if no one receives, then giving comes to a halt. To the audience Jesus was addressing, the problem was in getting people to give. In the Church today, far too often, the opposite issue rears its head: we get so caught in giving that we refuse to receive, even from God.

Now, this in no way reduces the commands of Scripture or the demands of life with God and in the Church. There are a lot of things we are to do, and those are good things. The problem is, we get focused on the to-do lists, and forget about both God and ourselves. God's first concern is for His children – He loves us and wants to take care of us. And, honestly, we need His care. Only when we'll allow Him that access will we have what it takes to minister to others.

Put another way: the point of the Christian life is the two-way relationship with God. Commune with Him and receive from Him, and you can do great things through Him. Concentrate on the “stuff”, however sanctified, and you'll be hopelessly drained.

“And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.”
- Philippians 4:19

Happy Boxing Day!

I just wanted to be the first to wish everyone a happy Boxing Day. This blog being based in and catered to the USA, I'm not exactly sure what anyone will be doing to celebrate this august day, but I wish you well in whatever celebratory activities you may undertake.

Just a note, though: from my understanding, "Boxing" here does not refer to the sport. So, if your plans involve giving someone in the supermarket a celebratory uppercut, you may want to reconsider. Just a thought.

Nathan

Merry Christmas!

Sages, leave your contemplations,
Brighter visions beam afar;
Seek the great Desire of nations,
Ye have seen His natal star:
Come and worship, come and worship,
Worship Christ, the newborn King.

- James Montgomery

A Poem

This appears to be an evening for poetry by the members of the Triumvirate (see here and here). Unfortunately, though, I'm not in a particularly poetic mood. So, rather than attempt to force one, I think I'll post one that I've previously composed.

Yes, my poem is devotional. Don't act so surprised!


The day was closing dark and dreary
The wind was howling, the rain, it poured.
Yet as I watched this, soft and slowly,
A song of praise came to the fore.
The song did nothing to the scen'ry,
It stayed as wretched as before,
But in my eyes, the darkened green'ry,
Was in that moment all transformed:
What had before been gath'ring gloom,
That all within its grasp would capture,
Was suddenly made to assume,
A portal to God's next adventure.

The song that worked this curious act,
Did not address the stormy weather -
Its power indeed was in the fact
That it ignored it altogether.
This song, it took no heed of hap'nings
It stayed the same through thick and thin,
Reminded me of brighter evenings,
And made my joy to surge within.

Oh Lord, You are forever constant,
You changeth not from year to year,
My life may change within an instant,
So precious Christ please hold me near.
And like a song which bears within
Light from outside my present view,
Be Thou to me a Heav'nly hymn,
Let all I see and hear be You!

Thoughts - John 11:16

"So Thomas, called the Twin, said to his fellow disciples, 'Let us also go, that we may die with Him.'"
- John 11:16

This came up in a Bible Study yesterday. There was a point to it, but it kind of got lost. And it shall stay lost, as I think this verse is extremely interesting in its own right.

If you're like me, you're already quite familiar with the context of this story. Jesus is out teaching, and He hears that His friend Lazarus is sick. He waits for a couple of days, and then decides to head to Bethany to see about healing (at this point, actually, raising) Lazarus.

Now, the problem with going to Bethany is that Bethany is within the region known as Judea. And the muckity-mucks of Judea are quite convinced that Jesus needs to die. These folks, however, are not mere thinkers - they also have the influence and drive to help Jesus meet His Maker (logical quandary intended) in an expeditious manner. With this in mind, the disciples try to dissuade Him from this mission - first stating the fact (v. 8) and then arguing the necessity of the trip (v. 12). Thomas put an end to the discussion with his statement, noted above.

There are a couple interesting elements of Thomas' statement. First, Thomas has very little hope here. He's pretty sure Jesus is going to die on this trip, and the rest of the group may join Him. The annoyance and resignation in his voice is almost palpable in the text.

Second, however, Thomas never questions following Christ. He's pretty sure they're all going to die, and yet he chooses to still go with Jesus. The level of dedication felt here by Thomas is simply amazing. The fact that no one sees fit to argue with him seems to indicate that the feeling was mutual.

Now, if this were a happy Sunday School lesson, everything would turn out peachy, and the disciples would learn to trust God to keep bad things away. The problem is, that isn't what happened. The irony of this whole story, you see, is that Thomas and the other disciples were right - although it took a couple stops, it was on this trip into Judea that Christ was captured, tried, and crucified!

What do we make of this, then? I think there are a couple important points. First, it's not inappropriate to think rationally about your actions - what the disciples deduced as happening did, in fact, happen in part. Second, though, they recognized that their reason had to be subservient to their priorities - they were going to go with Christ, whether it seemed smart or not. Third, when they did this, God gave them neither what reason nor hope would have expected - instead, He gave them infinitely more, a place in the founding of His Church!

Someone Else's Thoughts

"The Christian's God does not consist merely of a God Who is the author of mathematical truths and the order of the elements. That is the portion of the heathen and Epicureans. He does not consist merely of a God Who extends His providence over the life and property of men so as to grant a happy span of years to those who worship Him. That is the portion of the Jews. But the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob, the God of the Christians is a God of love and consolation: He is a God Who fills the soul and heart of those whom He possesses: He is a God Who makes them inwardly aware of their wretchedness and His infinite mercy: Who unites Himself with them in the depths of their soul: Who fills it with humility, joy, confidence and love: Who makes them incapable of having any other end but Him."
- Blaise Pascal, Pensees, fragment 556

Thoughts - 1 Corinthians 3:14

"If the work that anyone has built on the foundation survives, he will receive a reward."
1 Corinthians 3:14

I'm in a rebellious mood theologically, so be prepared for some interesting “Thoughts” in the near future. It's not that I want to cause trouble, but I'm increasingly seeing being built up in my mind an image of Christianity that is utterly different from what I've grown up with. And I think much of it started with the passage I want to tell you about today.

This is a passage that I've heard many times before, but never actually understood. Let me reproduce part of it, so we're on the same page:

“Now if anyone builds on the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw- each one's work will become manifest, for the Day will disclose it, because it will be revealed by fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each one has done. If the work that anyone has built on the foundation survives, he will receive a reward. If anyone's work is burned up, he will suffer loss, though he himself will be saved, but only as through fire.” (1 Cor. 3:12-15)

The meaning of this passage, as I've heard it described, goes like this: the foundation is one's salvation through Christ. We build upon this by our actions – gold, silver, and precious stones symbolizing our deeds of righteousness, and wood, hay, and straw denoting our evil deeds. Thus, at the Judgment (“the Day”), that life will be tried, and it will be seen whether one has put his or her salvation to good use, or has squandered it. In either case, what is left (in other words, how much good one has done) will determine the quality of our eternal life: although all who have the foundation will be saved, those who put poor workmanship into it will (logically) receive less of a reward to carry into eternity than will those who worked hard at it.

There's a severe problem with this interpretation, though: we've misidentified what's being built. What we generally pull from this fits nicely with our American individualism, so we're happy with it Unfortunately, though, in so doing, I think we've completely missed the point. We need to look again, and see what the passage actually says.

The first piece of any building is the foundation, and it is this that defines what can be built. Build it too flimsily, and the edifice on top will come crashing down when the bottom fails apart underneath it. Build a giant foundation, and only a minor building on top of it, and you'll be ridiculed for poor planning. The lucky thing for us here is that Paul identifies the foundation of his building: Jesus Christ (v. 11). Interesting, though, that he mentions nothing more than that – it's Christ Himself, not salvation, or justification, or theology, or anything else. Him. And, by the by, that's a rather large foundation!

If the foundation determines the size of the building, then, this must be a large structure. And, like any large structure, it takes a lot of work, and a lot of workmen, to build it. Indeed, from verse 10, not just Paul is working on it. “Someone else” is building on what he started. But, beyond that, others are working on it, or else how would “each one take care how he builds upon it”? So, there is a whole group, of indeterminate size, apparently involved in this project.

Well, now, we're going to run into an issue pretty quick. For, you see, in verse 12, it is apparent that Paul is addressing his remarks on building with quality materials to this group. But these fine folks are building a single building, not a collection of buildings. And, if that's the case, each one can't logically be working on just himself. There has to be one overall edifice that they're collaborating on.

And, in fact, there is, according to verse 9: the Church. The Church, not as an institution, but as a community of people. In verse 16, Paul writes “Do you not know that you are God's temple...?” The 'you' there is plural – literally, “all y'all”. It's a community composed of individuals, yes, but addressed as a cohesive whole and not as a group of atomic units thrown together. And it is that group that is the subject of this work.

Now, one more point, and then the conclusion should resolve itself pretty easily. It could be argued that Paul is only addressing the evangelists of the time – himself, Apollos, & co. The amount of space Paul gives to this discussion, though, and the tone convince me that this was only because the Corinthians were too busy with their infighting to have provided a worthwhile example, so Paul had to bring one in. The goal was for the Corinthians, and, by extension, all Christians, to join in the work.

That's a long path to a simple, yet staggering, conclusion. In the end, yes, each person's individual work will be judged. However, that work includes much more than his own spiritual state – it's what he's put into the building up of the Church. And the Church is so composed that building it up involves, requires, building people up. In other words, Paul's words here, rather than calling us to only improve ourselves for God's Kingdom, call us to improve our brothers and sisters as well. It's a work He sees as worthy of reward. But it's a work that living out will require a significant change in how you look at things.

Ponder that. And then try to live it. If you're like me, it may blow your mind. That's a good thing.

And, fair warning: unless God deters me, you ain't seen nothin' yet...

Thoughts - Mark 1:40-45

"Moved with pity, He stretched out His hand and touched him and said to him, 'I will; be clean.'"
- Mark 1:41

I've been remiss in this lately, and that's not going to be fixed in any great way here. I read this passage last night, though, and thought it worth sharing.

Mark is the earliest of the four gospels, and it starts off in a much simpler way than the others. Luke begins with a formal introduction, as befits the research project his gospel was. Matthew, written to the Jews, starts off with Jesus' ancestry, in that culture His bona fides. John has my favorite introduction, a mystical and philosophical description of all that the incarnation meant, borne of a special nearness to Christ and long years of reflection afterward.

In contrast, Mark just starts. It's all very brief - what takes Luke 3 chapters, Mark gives 11 verses. The general impression is of a whirlwind of activity - about the only individual He has time to talk to one-on-one is a demon-possessed man, and that's mainly to tell the demon to shut up.

In verse 40, however, that changes, and what made, and makes, Jesus different came to the fore. In that verse, the activity stopped. A leper came to Jesus, "imploring Him, and kneeling," (v. 40), with a faith and insight greater than many of his contemporaries, and yet with a humble request for healing.

Jesus could have ignored the man. He could have just spoken a word. But, as He looked at this poor man, He saw a deeper hurt than just his body. Leprosy was both physically destructive and highly contagious, which meant that those who had it lived in a perpetual quarantine. The leper lived as an outcast, human in theory but barred from any participation. You can imagine the hurts and longings within the man, far deeper than the physical disease. Not imagining that there could be any cure for that while his disease persisted, he sought out the One who could at least heal his body.

Jesus, however wasn't satisfied to just go half-way. He wanted to show the man that he was loved as he was, in his "unloveable" state. So, what did He do? He gently, but deliberately, reached out His hand, and touched the man. At that touch, dried skin crinkled and flaked off, and the man cringed from the pressure on his diseased flesh. But in that moment, his physical brokenness was replaced with spiritual wholeness, the overwhelming love of God flowing into his soul and washing away the years of hurt and loneliness. Then, only then, was Jesus ready to address his body.

If Calvary shows the love of God in power, this scene, to me, shows it in stillness. The savior of the world, God Incarnate, for a brief moment gave the most outcast of humanity His attention and acceptance, for no other reason than that He loved the man. To the crowd, it probably made little impression, but to that man, it meant everything.

In this is the essence of the Incarnation. Christ didn't choose to redeem us in a sterile environment, He didn't try to play things safe. Instead, He became a man so He could be right here in our gutter with us, to show us His love on a level we could understand and respond to. He made sure we knew that He saw the filth and squalor of our sin, and loved us anyway. Then, and only then, was He ready to pronounce the words, "I will; be clean," and save us. O that we might know the power of His touch, not just as God, but as man!

What I'm Learning

"The fear of the LORD leads to life:
Then one rests content, untouched by trouble."
- Proverbs 19:23

Some may recall, from way back when, that I've been trying to figure out what God's been up to in my life. Because, back in May, He put me at home when that was the one place I didn't want to be. I've been asking Him for several months to explain this to me. And I think I have a partial answer now.

Basically, I think it's about two things: contentment and trust. I'd been getting shades of the latter for a couple weeks or so now, but the first only really struck me today.

When I looked at the prospect of co-oping, I wanted one of two things. I could have taken staying near RPI, and enjoying being able to spend as much time as possible with my friends (some of whom have become adopted family) there. Failing that, I wanted to be by myself, to think, to relax, to spend my evenings reclining on a couch with a hot cup of tea, cozy and content. I didn't want to be at home, sitting in the midst of organized chaos.

Don't get me wrong - I love my family very much. I've just been away long enough to be out of the swing of things, so being at home tends to swing me between being worn out in the excitement or bored in the recuperative periods. The main reason for this being that, while the rest of the family, having not disappeared to Troy for a year, have things going on, I don't. In all actuality, I didn't when I left either, but I was blissfully ignorant then, and I'm not now. Independence is addicting.

Realizing this, at least dimly, home didn't exactly seem like an enticing plan. But that's where God put me. So, in the midst of complaining, I asked Him to show me why. Part 1 was Grandpa's death. After that, though, I tried to get to Troy for the Fall, and was stymied again, so I knew something else was up. It took me a while, but now I'm here, with at least a theoretical knowledge of the point.

And the point, it seems, was to teach me a lesson about life with God. Basically, it boils down to this: God is what matters. Have Him, and you can be content in any circumstance. Lack Him, and even you heart's desire will leave you feeling empty. It's Christ's classic formula: "For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it." (Matt. 16:25)

This, this here, is where Trust comes in. To have what I want, and what, in fact, God has given me, and to turn around and give that up seems extremely irrational. Even if that's what God's told me to do, it seems crazy. But by what other method could He teach us to trust Him, than by asking us to lay on the altar His gifts to us. He did it with Abraham and Isaac on Mount Moriah (Genesis 22:1-19). When Abraham gave to God his most prized gift, God returned it, and in so doing wrought a transformation in Abraham. Indeed, according to James 2:21, it was for this act that Abraham was declared righteous.

What Abraham did required total trust in God. Trust that God had a plan, and that He could and would preserve His word and work to Abraham's good. And one that was active, shown to be alive because it compelled action. And it was that trust that was rewarded.

Thankfully, God hasn't placed me in such an extreme scenario. In fact, it's relatively benign. Living at home, while not what I wanted, isn't exactly a hardship. And I haven't been completely separated from the happenings in Troy, nor been cut off from relaxing completely. But the point remains the same: as the proverb says, contentment rests on the fear of the Lord - obeying His leading. The rest is in His hands - there is no better place!

The Poem

Now that the full story has come out, and my part in the entire scheme has been revealed (for those not aware, this was a practical joke that I participated in, but didn't organize), here's a link to the poem:

http://secret.or.not.admirer.googlepages.com/

Thoughts Upon the Close of the Fiscal Year

Take my life, and let it be
Consecrated, Lord, to Thee;
Take my moments and my days,
Let them flow in ceaseless praise,
Let them flow in ceaseless praise.

Take my hands, and let them move
At the impulse of Thy love;
Take my feet, and let them be
Swift and beautiful for Thee,
Swift and beautiful for Thee.

Take my voice and let me sing
Always only for my King;
Take my lips, and let them be
Filled with messages from Thee,
Filled with messages from Thee.

Take my silver and my gold,
Not a mite would I withhold:
Take my intellect, and use
Ev'ry pow'r as Thou shalt choose,
Ev'ry pow'r as Thou shalt choose.

Take my will, and make it Thine;
It shall be no longer mine:
Take my heart, it is Thine own;
It shall be Thy royal throne,
It shall be Thy royal throne.

Take my love, my Lord, I pour
At Thy feet its treasure store:
Take myself, and I will be
Ever, only, all for Thee,
Ever, only, all for Thee.

-Frances R. Havergal

Thoughts = Math.Random()

As you may have noticed, my posting has become increasingly eclectic in content of late. It's not just my writing - it's my mind right now. Not sure why.

This was pointed out poignantly tonight. In the PHD Comic (phdcomics.com) for 9/27, which I saw this evening, there's an apparently random number on a computer screen. Except it's not random - it's actually pi/2. And, yes, I did notice this on my own. Not sure what to make of it, but I haven't figured out an explanation that bodes well for me yet.

God is still good. But I do wish I knew His goal in this time of listlessness is. All in good time.

Ecclesiastes 3:11 says "He has made everything beautiful in its time." This is followed by verses 12 and 13: "I perceived that there is nothing better for them than to be joyful and to do good as long as they live; also that everyone should eat and drink and take pleasure in all his toil--this is God's gift to man." Perhaps this is the lesson - to discover joy, not in either the wonderful or the depressing things of life, but in the swirling mass that results when the two mix together. If so, I hope I learn quickly, but I have a sinking feeling that this is a lesson only learned with patience...

All the way my Saviour leads me;
What have I to ask beside?
Can I doubt His tender mercy,
Who thro' life has been my Guide?
Heav'nly peace, divinest comfort,
Here by faith in Him to dwell!
For I know, whate'er befall me,
Jesus doeth all things well;
For I know, whate'er befall me,
Jesus doeth all things well.

All the way my Saviour leads me,
Cheers each winding path I tread,
Gives me grace for ev'ry trial,
Feeds me with the living bread.
Though my weary steps may falter,
And my soul athirst may be,
Gushing from the Rock before me,
Lo! a spring of joy I see;
Gushing from the Rock before me,
Lo! a spring of joy I see.
-Fanny Crosby

Terra Beata

The Latin phrase Terra Beata means, roughly, "blessed earth." It's the name of the the tune to "This is My Father's World." Looking through my photos, I realize I'm blessed to be living in a truly beautiful place, and thought I'd share some of it with you.

Some may say this isn't half as pretty as Troy. Those people have been breathing too much smog. Brunswick is nice, though, but it doesn't have the same variety - with the exception of the field, which is by my church, all the pictures are within walking distance of the house.

Anyway, enjoy!

Funniness

On a completely different note...

Reading an article tonight, saw another article referenced, a review of the second version of a middle-school textbook. The title of the article is, I think, great:

"The Puffins Don't Help; the Book Is Still Trash"

I get the feeling the author didn't like it.

Thoughts - September 7, 2006 - 1 Kings 19:9

"'What are you doing here, Elijah?'"
1 Kings 19:9 ESV


Crazy but true, I've decided that I need to keep going with Elijah's adventure here. Why? Because I find it fascinating. Mainly because there is so much depth here, yet it doesn't make sense at first blush.

If you remember, we left off as Elijah, powered by God, reached Mount Horeb, a.k.a. Mount Sinai. Having come to Sinai, he found a cave, and set up camp. Now, God knew he was coming. In fact, based on verse 7, I don't think it would be stretching things to suggest that God sent him there. So, with that being the case, one is forced to wonder: why are God's first words to the poor guy there "What are you doing here, Elijah?"

If God had called Elijah to Horeb, then the way many Americans would read this question, as an accusation - "Why aren't you where I told you to be?" - doesn't work. Instead, the point of the question seems to be to get Elijah to think, and beyond that to take possession of the experience. In other words, God wasn't satisfied with just taking Elijah and restoring him, as if he were a machine to be wound back up and sent out. He wanted to cooperate with Elijah, to participate with him is his restoration. What this meant, of course was that Elijah had to establish what he wanted.

Unfortunately, it's at this point that I think Elijah made a crucial mistake. Rather than consider God's question, he replied with the statement he'd been planning on making for the last 40 days. Not that what he said wasn't for the most part true (although there is some exaggeration), but he failed to actually answer the question. He was too busy making his complaint to consider why God had brought him so far to ask such a simple question, which was in fact profound. In other words, he got too caught up in himself to stop to consider God's plan.

What happened next is one of those scenes that can be read hundreds of times without ever losing its ability to instill awe. Quite simply, God showed up! It's interesting, though, how He did it, as even in His method He made a point. The things that came before Him, the wind, and earthquake, and fire, recall to the mind to events of chapter 18, with fire falling from heaven, and great drought-ending storms blowing in. Amazing displays of God's power, but not God Himself. Elijah had seen God act in these events, but seeing Him act wasn't (and isn't) the same as meeting Him. What he needed was a whisper.

Why a whisper? Because it demands stillness and intimacy to be heard. It doesn't allow one to move, for the very rustling of one's clothes can be enough to drown it out. And one must draw close to hear clearly what is being said. In other words, to put it theologically, God's whisper was a call to Elijah to commune with Him.

Unfortunately, it is apparent that Elijah's heart kept him from this communion. Because he refused to follow God's plan, he was left unchanged by the experience. When asked again in verse 13, by that whisper, why he was there, he gave the exact same answer. Nothing to him had changed.

Now God still took care of Elijah. He answered his complaint, and provided Elisha as a helper. And Elijah, by God's grace, continued his prophetic work. But I am forced to wonder what Elijah missed in this experience. Had he abandoned his own agenda, and sought only to follow God's will, what power, what grace, what promises might have been his? We will never know.

I believe that God often asks us that same question when we come to Him: "What are you doing here?" May we be willing, when He asks, to stop in our tracks and examine ourselves, and in so doing to place our hearts in a place where He can touch them! It's only then that we can hear and respond to the whisper, within which is God's method to restore and empower our souls.

Thoughts - August 27 - 1 Kings 19:4

"It is enough; now, O Lord, take away my life, for I am no better than my fathers."
1 Kings 19:4 ESV


If you open up your Bible and turn to the vicinity of our key verse, you'll probably recognize some of the events around this passage. Just before this is Elijah's famous battle with the prophets of Baal at Mount Carmel, when Elijah and God set Israel straight on who was God and who wasn't in a rather clear and decisive manner. From there, Elijah declared an end to the long drought in the land, and saw it come to pass. Unfortunately, this was followed by the queen Jezebel, who wasn't particularly nice, sending some rather nasty threats to Elijah. And, in spite of the anticipated spiritual high at this point, Elijah got scared out of his wits and ran. After running for a day out into the wilderness, he stopped and uttered the cry that is our key verse.

There is a very traditional sermon that begins much like this. It's all about seeing things through God's eyes, or something like that. If you've been to church enough, you've heard it, and you know that Elijah gets a pretty bum rap for appearing to give up on God after everything that's happened. Let me submit to you that this interpretation is incorrect.

Why is that reading incorrect? For one simple reason: what Elijah did was absolutely correct! To see why, let's examine what he actually said. He makes two statements here, first, "It is enough", and, second, "I am no better than my fathers", and from that a conclusion and request, "now, O Lord, take away my life".

"It is enough" is kind of brief. For Elijah, it was even more so - in Hebrew, it's one word, rab. (More than you ever wanted to know about it here) But it was a simple and profound statement of his condition. Basically, what he's saying here is "I've had all I can take." It's the same phrase God uses in 2 Samuel 24:16, when He stops the destruction of Israel because He can't stand to see any more. And Elijah was definitely right - over the course of a couple of days, he'd challenged an entire nation, crippled a religion, outrun a chariot, and then topped it off with a day's trip in the desert. And now he was physically, emotionally, and spiritually spent, and he knew it.

He followed this with "I am no better than my fathers." "Fathers" here could refer to his physically ancestry, or it could refer to the prophets that had come before him. And there is truth in both sides. First, in the light of the acts of God he had just witnessed, his own imperfection and sinfulness was readily apparent. All the thing he had done for God, while good, hadn't made him significantly better than his countrymen - he too had sinned, so that it's easy to understand him saying, like Paul later would, "Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?" (Romans 7:24) Second, at least from his view, he had accomplished his divine mission as well as the prophets of old had. Which, considering how deep into apostasy Israel was, wasn't particularly well. In spite of all he had done for God, all he still saw was rebellion (see v. 10). So, basically, he acknowledged his utter incompetence for the task he had been appointed to.

With these in mind, it's little wonder that his request to God was to let him die - he had given his all, and was found wanting still. He had utterly failed in his God-given task, and had nothing left with which to try again. Truly a depressing state to be in. But Elijah's wisdom was two-fold: he was completely, simply, and utterly honest about his condition, and in his honesty submitted himself to the will and care of the one Person who could address his needs.

What's truly interesting, beyond that, is what happened afterward. God didn't come and give Elijah a pep talk. Nor did He send a messenger come to cheer him with good tidings from Israel. In the face of absolute honesty, the Lord was quiet, for in fact He had nothing to add or correct. What He did do, however, was begin to provide Elijah with what he needed to be restored. God wasn't going to meet with His prophet in the middle of the wilderness. Instead, He gave Elijah what he needed to come to Him. And, thus strengthened by God's care, Elijah went, not north back to Israel, but south, "to Horeb, the mount of God." (v. 8)

Thoughts - August 24 - Isaiah 43:19

"Behold, I am doing a new thing;
now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?"
(Isaiah 43:19)


You may not know this, but I enjoy taking passages like this, that are often seen out of context, and putting them back into it. It's not that the interpretation is necessarily wrong, but it is incomplete.

In this whole portion of the book of Isaiah, God is giving Israel this amazing two-sided message. First, they're a bunch of rebellious evildoers who should know better. See, for example, 42:18-20, "Hear, you deaf, and look, you blind, that you may see! Who is blind but my servant, or deaf as my messenger whom I send? Who is blind as my dedicated one, or blind as the servant of the Lord?" Basically, the chosen people, rather than being heralds of God's truth, were not just as bad as the nations around them, but worse, since they should have known better.

At the same time, though, out of His unspeakable love, God had chosen to forgive and redeem them. In 43:25, one can almost feel His anguish over them and their refusal to acknowledge Him: "I, I am He, who blots out your transgressions for my own sake, and I will not remember your sins." Verse 12: "I declared and saved and proclaimed, when there was no strange god among you" to confuse you as to Who it was!

So, as our key verse says, God had decided on a new approach. Even though Judah had ignored His many, many appeals to them, He refused to give up. Being a smart guy, He knew that the same old, same old wouldn't work. So, out of His love, he went back to the drawing board. And came up with Babylon.

Now, if you're going to be corrected by the Creator, you generally want Him to speak to you and tell you. If that doesn't work, or if you're part of a large group on the same wrong path, a prophet might be nice. What you probably don't want is for a foreign nation to come in, destroy your land, and carry you off into exile!

Israel's history shows that this isn't what God wanted either. He tried for centuries to reach them in the nice way, but it just didn't work. So, did He finally tire of them and abandon them? No! He gave them what they needed, and, further, promised His help while they went through it and recovered from it (43:1-7).

Now, did it work? Somewhat. Judaism since then has been much closer to God in the millennia since then than it was before. Did it work perfectly? No - when God Himself, in Christ, came to fully claim His own, they rejected Him. But even that wasn't the last straw for them, either. Though they were destroyed again in A.D. 70, the last century has witnessed yet another restoration of Israel, and with it a significant number of the Jews finding Christ.

I would submit to you that there is a definite parallel to this in our lives. God will try to speak to you and correct you as gently as possible, because He loves you. If you ignore Him in that, though, He won't abandon you; because He loves you, He may turn up the heat. But, if He does, He'll get you through it, too, and you will come out on the other end.

So, if you're going through a time of trial, turn to Him, and see if He's trying to get through to you. If you're not, but you've been trying to ignore Him, rethink that plan before He has to try a little harder. And, in whatever happens, trust Him - He really does love you!


"When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie,
My grace all-sufficient shall be thy supply;
The flame shall not hurt thee; I only design
Thy dross to consume, and thy gold to refine."
- Hymn, "How Firm a Foundation"

Thoughts - August 22 - Revelation 21:6

I'm going to call these "Thoughts", at least for now. I'm not sure I'm quite up to writing "Devotions" yet. And, hey, if I am, the little extra dose of humility might not be a bad thing either...


"And He said to me, 'It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give from the spring of the water of life without payment." (Rev. 21:6)


I was surprised reading over some of what I've written over the past few months how much I've focused on change. The more I consider it, the more I find that change is very interesting, because it's a continuing process: each end always holds a new beginning, and each new beginning bears the seeds of an end. The cycle self-perpetuates, and the only way to attempt to avoid it is to stretch out the period of time between beginnings and ends. Some try to do this by never beginning anything at all, and, while I suppose this may work, it seems like a miserable way to live. Others grasp the now for all it's worth, trying desperately to keep pushing the end off. This is, unfortunately, a losing battle. So what are we to do?

It's in that spirit that I've considered this rather well-known passage from Revelation. It's an awe-inspiring statement, signaling the end of Earth and Heaven as we know them, and the inauguration of our eternity with Christ. But I want to pull out a couple of details.

First, He is. It doesn't read 'I was the Alpha and will be the Omega.' It says "I am"! It echoes Christ's "Before Abraham was, I am." (John 8:58) To Him, the beginning and the end are both in the present - "I am God, and there is none like me, declaring the end from the beginning and from ancient times things not yet done," (Isaiah 46:9-10)

Second, He's not an end, or a beginning - He's THE beginning and end. There's no beginning before Him, and no ending after Him. And, since to Him both exist at once, all the individual beginnings and ends converge towards those two poles, that are both Him.

Now, any RPI-type person who reads this will realize the implication quickly. By the Squeeze Theorem, if the beginnings and the ends each converge to God, then those things between them, which would include all events, must also converge to Him. In other words, "From Him and through Him and to Him are all things," (Rom. 11:36), including the events of our lives. Whether in the hard turning points of change or in the smoother times in between, we are always near to God.

If this is, then the case, then in whatever happens, we have a promise to live on. For the One who declares His omnipresence, in His very next statement, invites us to drink in the fullness of life with Him: "To the thirsty I will give from the spring of the water of life without payment." The promise is not only real - it's the gateway to all that God has in store for us!