Soul Refinisher

April 30, 2020

It was pretty beat up when I took it down from the rafters in the garage. Some years ago, I rescued it from the trash bin along with two others. My brother-in-law had died too young, and my sister had finally decided to move out of the house they had called home for their entire married life. With time on my hands over the past few weeks, I figured it was time to bring it back to life. 

Transformation doesn’t happen overnight. The decision to change may be instantaneous, but the change itself is a process requiring skill and resources. Before anything happened, I envisioned the finished product. I gathered the tools, and set to work. The old finish had to be removed, loose joints glued, new stain and varnish applied before I could begin. It took a week just to get ready to start. Another week of steady work, and it’s done. I like the feeling when I finish a project.

God took me from the trash heap of sin. He saw the finished project before I was even born, and one step at a time, with infinite skill and the resources of his grace and power, he set to work. Unlike my chair, God isn’t done with me yet. There are still more than a few traces of the old life that need to be removed; the new finish that will shine in the light of his love hasn’t yet dried to its eternal glory, but with mercy, forgiveness, and persistence beyond measure, He keeps at it, and someday his skill as a renewer of discarded lives will be on display for all to see. It will be a glorious day!

Eternal weight of Glory

April 29, 2020

For the past few days, I’ve been stuck in 2 Corinthians 4. Paul packed so much into this chapter that in spite of wanting to read longer sections, I keep coming back and reflecting on his insights, especially in light of all that’s been happening around the world with COVID 19. In the 16th verse, he says, “We do not lose heart.” 

When life doesn’t deliver all we had hoped, it is easy to lose heart. We pin our hopes on plans we expect will come to fruition, and when they evaporate before our eyes, we lose heart and get discouraged. Paul addresses this very issue in his words here. “We do not lose heart” is preceded by “therefore.” Years ago in college, professor Warren Woolsey often said, “When in the Bible you see a therefore, find out what it’s there for.” That single word links what is to follow with what was said previously, and previously, Paul spoke of what he called “treasure in earthen vessels,” of death working in the apostles so his readers could have life. Then he said, “All things are for your sake...that grace may abound to God’s glory.” We do not lose heart, “though the outward man is perishing,” because “the inner man is daily being renewed.”

In the days of enforced lockdown, I am seeing major constrictions of our Constitutional rights. Citing emergency powers, we are being pressed into an economy that seems on the verge of collapse, while the political thirst for power rushes in. I wonder if I am seeing the end of this great country looming, anarchy waiting in the wings, followed by totalitarianism. I know this sound apocalyptic, but it’s what I see.

But here is what is also happening: Without intending to, I’ve been losing heart, looking too much to the things seen, which Paul says, “are only temporary,” and not enough to the unseen and eternal realities of God. Paul says our “light affliction” (which when you read about his life seems anything but light) is working for us “a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.” Note that phrase “working for us” (v. 17). God works for us through our troubles. Hear that: “God is working for us.”

Now, I have a choice; believe this, look to the glory and be encouraged, or believe only what I see and lose heart. The latter is easy; anyone can do it. Politicians and the media use what people see to promote fear, which makes people easier to manipulate. The only way to freedom is to cast off fear, and the only way to do that is to keep our eyes on the unseen eternal weight of glory through which God even now is at work in us through the present affliction. Our hearts are connected directly to our eyes. We do not lose heart when we keep our eyes on the eternal glory that far outweighs the present “light” afflictions of this world. If that doesn’t move us to praise and thanksgiving, we aren’t paying attention.

Earthen Vessels

April 28, 2020

“For it is the God who commanded light to shine out of darkness, who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellence of the power may be of God and not of us.”

—II Corinthians 4:6-7 NKJV

The contrast is unmistakable. We know the glory of God—the magnificence that literally shines like the sun, that sparkles off the stream dancing over the Adirondack rocks, and takes the breath away at the sight of the wonders of Yellowstone; the extravagance of our salvation, of regeneration, adoption, justification, sanctification, and glorification, forgiveness and freedom from condemnation—we experience all this in Jesus Christ. The glories of our salvation are beyond our comprehension, but even more, we hold this treasure “in earthen vessels.”

The glory of our life in Christ is not something we must wait for. It’s not delayed gratification—something we only receive when we get to heaven. We hold this treasure in earthen vessels, our earthly bodies. 

Paul has just finished listing some of the perils he has faced; the difficulties that came with being faithful to Jesus Christ. At times, it got so hard, he thought his end was surely at hand. There was nothing in his life that most people would consider glorious. He wasn’t dressed in fancy clothes, didn’t live in a big house with servants, didn’t have people hanging on every word he spoke. No, he often was cold, hungry, in danger, without protection, and underappreciated. He wasn’t in it for the fame, glory, money, or power. From the very beginning, he knew his lot would be hard. At his conversion, God said, “I will show him how many things he must suffer for My name’s sake.” —Acts 9:16 NKJV

We Americans have lived in unusual times. We’ve been blessed to live in a country with unparalleled opportunity to prosper in this world. Following Christ has not brought to us the kind of persecution our brothers and sisters around the world have experienced. Our “earthen vessels” have been pretty fancy stuff. We’ve lived the lives of fine china, expensive silver, and gold filigree, but most of God’s people have lived as disposable pottery, used hard till it breaks, when it is discarded and replaced. 

But I’ve noticed something over the years. Some of the most beautiful people I know have lived through some of the most terrible and destructive experiences. But instead of being destroyed by them, those experiences were like a refiner’s fire, burning away the impurities till they shone from within.

Emmy lived about five miles down the road from us, up a long path that in West Virginia would be called a holler. She was in her eighties, and as a young pastor, I would visit her regularly. Her home was modest, but filled with what today we would call antiques which for her, were merely her everyday items. When visiting, I would often sit at her old parlor organ, pumping the pedals and accompanying as we sang old Gospel hymns. She would sing, tears streaming down her face. You see, Emmy’s husband had left her years before and taken up with the woman whose house was at the entry to her holler. Every time Emmy left home, she had to pass that house, seeing the two of them together. Her heart was not only broken, but continually rubbed raw by the abuse she withstood from them. So we would sing and she would cry. And as she did so, I could see the glory of God in her countenance. I am grateful for Emmy and others like her I’ve known. They revealed Christ to me, and made me want to be like them, even if it meant going through hard times. I saw in them the Treasure, not the vessel. And it was beautiful.

What Am I Looking For?

April 27, 2020

 What are we seeing these days? It all depends on what we’re looking for. In “The Adventure of the Dancing Men,” Sir Arthur Conan Doyle illustrates this vividly. A man has been killed, and his wife seriously injured. Sherlock Holmes is on the scene.The local constabulary, trying to piece together what happened, is holding the weapon which had apparently been dropped by the perpetrator.

“There are still four cartridges in the revolver. Two have been fired and two wounds inflicted, so that each bullet can be accounted for."

"So it would seem," said Holmes. "Perhaps you can account also for the bullet which has so obviously struck the edge of the window?"He had turned suddenly, and his long, thin finger was pointing to a hole which had been drilled right through the lower window-sash about an inch above the bottom.

"By George!" cried the inspector. "How ever did you see that?"

"Because I looked for it."

It is our privilege and responsibility to choose what we look for. The world is full of charlatans and sleight-of-hand artists who do their best to get us to see only what they want us to see. When it’s a magic show, it’s fun and games. When it’s politics, education, pseudo-science, or religion, it is deadly serious. 

In 2 Corinthians 3:18, St. Paul speaks of “beholding...the glory of the Lord.” That word “beholding” signifies more than a casual glance. If we aren’t looking for it; I mean diligently looking for it, we are likely to miss the glory of the Lord. Paul explains this in chapter 4, where he reminds us that part of this fallen world is the blinding veil that covers our eyes, courtesy of the god of this world (vv. 3-4). We don’t see what’s really all around us because of all the trouble and destruction brought into this world by the Enemy of our souls. We must deliberately look through the mess if we are to receive the message of grace and mercy God has for us in Jesus Christ.

Paul doesn’t minimize the troubles of this life. “We are hard-pressed on every side, yet not cursed, we are perplexed, but not in despair, persecuted, but not forsaken, struck down, but not destroyed (vv.8-9). These are not the words of a fanciful idealist. He literally stared down death on numerous occasions, but even so was able to triumphantly proclaim, 

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal.”

—II Corinthians 4:16-18 NKJV

Notice that little word “seen.” It all depends on what we’re looking for. Paul saw what others could not, because his gaze took in more than his immediate situation, something I need to do more of, myself. This fourth chapter is powerful truth, and I am thankful for the divine reminder to, as in the words of the old hymn, “Turn my eyes upon Jesus.”

Three Gifts Moving

April 26, 2020

With the quarantine in place, there’s not always much to talk about that would even remotely interest anyone outside the family, so when I can’t think of anything, I go back to the Joy Dare calendar that seven years ago got me started writing about gratitude. Today’s prompt was “Three Gifts Moving.” 

1. I am moving. I’ve had trouble with my left hip for a couple years now, and if internet driven self-diagnosis is worth anything, I have performance syndrome, where the muscle deep in the gluteus maximus that attaches the sacroiliac to the outside of the ball of the femur presses in upon the sciatic nerve. I’ve been stretching and working the area, but it still jabs me when I shift positions in a chair. But...I’m still moving. Linda and I spent most of yesterday doing yard work, and although I got out of bed a bit slower than usual this morning, I was able to get out of bed. Additionally, most of the time, I don’t even notice it. That’s more than many people my age can say. I am thankful to be moving today.
2. The bird feeders outside our back room windows are a source of continual amusement and pleasure for Linda and me. She is particularly pleased when the Cardinals show up. Two years ago when we started feeding them through the winter, there was only a single pair of Cardinals. This year, there were three, in addition to the finches, bluejays, sparrows, chickadees, and woodpeckers. And squirrels. The squirrels are quite acrobatic in their ability to get to the feeders, and the constant movement of fur and feather makes for some good geriatric amusement.

3. About a month ago, I found an antique wall clock advertised on Facebook Marketplace. We have clocks in the living room, dining room, and back room, but had nothing for the bedroom. There are clocks in the kitchen, too, but they are electric, one above the sink, the others part of the stove and microwave. Electric clocks don’t count. They have to be the old-fashioned wind up variety. I bought it and brought it home. It hangs on the wall on Linda’s side of the bed, where I can easily see it just by turning my head. Of course, I can’t see it at night; after all, it’s an antique, and doesn’t glow in the dark. But it does chime! Most old clocks have a mellow “bong, bong,” Not this one. It sounds like someone’s banging on an old dishpan. I told Linda I wouldn’t wind the chime again, but as luck would have it, I think it’s a 30 day wind! I haven’t touched it in three weeks, and it still chimes it’s “braaang, braaang” every hour. We both like the gentle tick-tock as the pendulum swings back and forth (moving, as tonight’s topic would have it), but I think we’ll both be glad when the chime finally runs down.

This Present Distress

April 24, 2020

“For we do not want you to be ignorant, brethren, of our trouble which came to us in Asia: that we were burdened beyond measure, above strength, so that we despaired even of life. Yes, we had the sentence of death in ourselves, that we should not trust in ourselves but in God who raises the dead...

For our boasting is this: the testimony of our conscience that we conducted ourselves in the world in simplicity and godly sincerity, not with fleshly wisdom but by the grace of God, and more abundantly toward you.” —II Corinthians 1:8-9, 12 NKJV

St. Paul doesn’t tell us here what the troubles were which he endured in Asia (Minor), but prior to these words he writes passionately about comforting one another in times of trial, indicating that he was speaking from experience. I am impressed by the phrase, “we despaired even of life.” Christian faith for Paul wasn’t a happy happy, joy joy life. This greatest of Christians admits he thought he would die, and that the problems he faced weighed heavily upon him. He gives tacit permission for us to experience without shame feeling the weight of the world on our shoulders, as long as it drives us to lean harder upon God. 

He then tells us how he dealt with that burden and despair: He conducted himself with simplicity and godly sincerity, with divine grace caring for others. So often when hard pressed, we make things more complicated than they are. I’ve found that simplicity is usually best, and that simplicity is rooted in having a clear set of values by which to live. I’ve never had to puzzle over whether I should be faithful to my wife. I learned early on to keep my first commitments. I was taught that you don’t play till the work is done. It’s simple (which is not the same thing as easy). Honesty, diligence, faith are not complicated, but they can be difficult. 

Paul said he scorned fleshly wisdom; instead of bowing to whatever the culture promoted, he lived in grace and stayed focused on ministering to others. Our culture wallows in fear and shame. Grace and forgiveness are anathema to most, and looking out for Number One is taken for granted. I’ve never found fear, shame, and self-centeredness to be of any help even in the best of times, let alone in times of difficulty. When things are hard is exactly the right time to live boldly with joyous abandon serving others. I’ve noticed whenever I’m down, it’s because I’m focusing on how I am feeling at the moment. When I turn my attention to serving others, I never fail to feel better. In this present distress, simplicity, sincerity, and gracious service to others is good medicine. I am so thankful for the Gospel of Jesus Christ which has taught me this, because I surely wouldn’t think of it myself.

Fear

April 23, 2020

Jews and Christians have for generations taken comfort in the words of the Twenty-third Psalm. I’ve often noted how in the 4th verse when speaking of death, the grammar changes from speaking of God in the third person to speaking directly to him in the second person: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.” It’s in hard times that we want a God who isn’t some distant being “out there;” we need a God who is right beside us. 

David speaks with confidence with words we need for today: “I will fear no evil.” That confidence is heightened with the little word, “Yea.” That word is an affirmation, like an “amen” at the end of a prayer. It’s like David is planting a stake in the ground, declaring that even the deepest valley he faced with confidence. In fact, he sees death as only a shadow, which is quite telling. He knows the sun still shines and death is but a shadow which has no real substance and therefore no ability to harm him. So he speaks with confidence, having no fear.

In the Fifty-third Psalm, this theme is amplified. Verse 5 reads, “The wicked are not so; they are in fear where no fear was.” Fear is a great motivator. From time immemorial, tyrants have known they can control people with fear, and have used it effectively to manipulate people. We are seeing this play out in contemporary media. Today it’s COVID; yesterday it was climate change, tomorrow it’s predictions of a resurgence of COVID in the fall. Experts all, it turns out we know very little about this disease, but fear has brought the world to a standstill.

Pundits will say social distancing has slowed the spread of COVID, but it’s just as possible that the disease itself follows a natural pattern, and that our policies have had little or nothing to do with the flattening of the curve. Coincidence is not the same as correlation. It is not lost on me that we tremble at the prospect of death visiting our own selves, while the death of others we embrace in our culture’s acceptance of abortion. 

I have no problem social distancing for the good of others, but I am grateful tonight that my life is in the hands of a loving God who embraced death himself so I would not have to fear it, but instead can embrace the life he offers through faith in Christ.

A Beautiful Day

April 22, 2020

This morning’s psalm included these words: 

“Now I know that the LORD saves his anointed; 

He will answer him from his holy heaven 

with the saving strength of his right hand.” 

—Psalm 20:6

This is a messianic psalm that speaks to the coming of the Christ, but it also applies to all who are in him—we are the anointed, the chosen ones of God. We are saved not because we made such wise and wonderful decisions, but because in his mercy, God chose us. 

This evening, I was reading from 1 Corinthians. The church at Corinth was a mess. They had trusted Christ and were baptized into him; they had all the gifts of the Holy Spirit operating in full power, but they were at each other’s throats, fighting with one another, sinking in a cesspool of immorality to the extent that anyone looking at them wouldn’t see much that resembled Jesus Christ. As their pastor, Paul carefully and compassionately threads his way through their problems, culminating in that wonderful hymn of love found in chapter thirteen:

“Love suffers long and is kind; 

love does not envy; 

love does not parade itself, 

is not puffed up; 

does not behave rudely, 

does not seek its own, 

is not provoked, 

thinks no evil; 

does not rejoice in iniquity, 

but rejoices in the truth; 

Love bears all things, 

believes all things, 

hopes all things, 

endures all things. 

Love never fails.”

—I Corinthians 13:4-8 NKJV

He isn’t finished. From this high vantage point, he goes on to deal with one last problem before launching into the fifteenth chapter about the resurrection of Jesus Christ. For a church hopelessly divided, wracked with scandal, needing to learn what love really is, they needed one thing more—a vision of the victory and glory of the resurrection. Paul paints a picture we often fail to see. In our best flights of imagination, we try to picture eternal life in heaven. We (especially those of us who have more than a few years under our belts) imagine new bodies full of life and vigor—sort of turning back the clock. Paul tells us things will be as different as the plant from the seed. They don’t look anything alike, but we know the apple seed will bring forth an apple tree. 

If you’ve been feeling confined, perhaps a bit down due to social distancing, it might do some good to review Paul’s hymn on love, asking how you might express that kind of love to someone today. Even more, spend some time reading that resurrection chapter and remember that what lies in store is so much more than even the best we have here. This COVID has helped tear us from the lesser loyalties and habits that we didn’t even know were supplanting the more important aspects of our lives—time spent together, time with God, attention to the beauty all around us. 

Today, Linda and I were able to visit my 97-year-old mother for the first time in almost two months. When we got home, granddaughter Izzi and her best friend were waiting in the driveway to talk with us. Later, Matt, Jeanine, Mattie, and Nathan stopped by to give us some of Nathan’s mac and cheese he made from Linda’s recipe. We had a wonderful conversation (social distancing, of course). If seeing each other face to face was so good today, I can only imagine what God’s ultimate family reunion will be like when there is no social distancing, no limitations of this world, but only the glories of the resurrection and the unending song of the victory of Christ, the Lamb of God. The giving of thanks doesn’t even begin to grasp what that day will be like. The promise of that psalm will be our reality: 

“Now I know that the LORD saves his anointed; 

He will answer him from his holy heaven 

with the saving strength of his right hand.” 

Meaning

April 21, 2020

Viktor Frankl was a Jewish psychiatrist imprisoned in the death camps of Auschwitz and three other camps during the Second World War. After liberation, he wrote the book which became the foundation of his Logotherapy—“Man’s Search for Meaning.” Several times in the course of the book, he quotes the words of Nietzsche: “He who has a Why to live for can bear almost any How.” He describes poignantly those prisoners who gave up on life, who had lost all hope for a future and were inevitably the first to die. They died less from lack of food or medicine than from lack of hope, lack of something to live for.”

Having been told to expect another month of government forced social distancing, quarantine, and economic shutdown, we are beginning to see resistance from those whose lives have been most seriously impacted by these measures. Mass rallies and civil disobedience are no longer tools of the left only as ordinary people branded as radical right-wingers are pushing back against what they perceive as totalitarian overreach. 

What is the connection between Frankl and this modern-day resistance? It’s that word, “meaning.” The American people have by and large, acquiesced to the edicts of our governors, Congress, and president. We may have at times done so grudgingly, but for the most part, we are willing to endure deprivation and hardship for the good of all. But when people cannot see the connection between the proclamation and the reality they see before them, when rural America which is largely untouched by COVID-19 must abide by the same restrictions as those in the cities, the meaning gets lost. People listen to the talking heads on TV telling them how dangerous this virus is, but aren’t seeing it playing out in their neighborhoods. The pronouncements have no meaning for them.

The difference between Frankl and today’s situation is more pronounced than the similarities. Entire Jewish communities were decimated, their entire population sent to the gas chambers. People who had been living in peace and prosperity suddenly found themselves rounded up like cattle to be sent to the slaughterhouses. Meaning in such stark surroundings was hard to find. But his quote from Nietzsche is still worth pondering: “He who has a Why to live for can bear almost any How.” In these days of disruption when nearly everything we have trusted in seems to be giving way before this COVID tsunami, what is our Why? Is it simply to go back to life as we knew it? People are beginning to rage against the How of their lives, but we haven’t really asked why we are here. Without that divine purpose, the How of life easily overtakes and defeats us. 

Frankl observed that people often died in the camps simply because they couldn’t find a reason to keep going. They had no vision powerful enough to carry them into an unknown future. Proverbs 29:18 says it well: “Where there is no vision, the people perish.” We need to be able to see beyond our present distress. There will long be debate over the effectiveness of the measures being taken. Those in favor of them will point to the statistics being revised downward and say the measures are working; those opposed will say the original projections were inflated. Whichever proves to be true, we must find meaning in our crisis. 

I’ve been using this time of enforced solitude to catch up on projects, to reflect on God’s faithfulness, to do my best to reach out to others in need. Elsewhere in the world are people who do not have the luxury of doing this; they are literally starving because the food and supply chains are in shambles. It is therefore of utmost importance that my meaning include them—praying for them, being generous in my giving, doing what I can to alleviate their suffering. If the meaning I seek includes only me and those close to me, that meaning is pretty meaningless. I am therefore grateful tonight for the Gospel that opens my mind and heart to the world, and for the resources I still have to reach out in the name of Jesus Christ to alleviate the suffering of those whose need is much more desperate than mine.

The Old Man and the Child

April 20, 2020

I’m feeling a bit lazy tonight, so instead of my usual evening ramblings, I’ll tell you a story. I call it “The Old Man and the Child.”

“We’re almost there.” The old man wheezed as he spoke, his words forced through labored breath as he climbed the hill. His steps were measured and slow, each foot placed with a twinge of pain that went unnoticed by the child skipping along at his side.

“Are you sure,” the child asked? “You said we were almost there half an hour ago.” There was no irritation int he child’s voice; merely the impatience of youth, for whom even the slightest delay is an eternity. The old man knew better; years had taught him that some of life’s most delightful experiences were borne of delays, interruptions, and detours.

“See that grassy knoll up ahead? That’s the place”

“Really? It doesn’t look all that special. Why did you want to bring me here? There’s sure not much to look at.” The unmistakeable look of disappointment furrowed his brow.

“Come, have a seat.” The old man motioned, and the child came close, dropping down by his side. “Let me tell you a story,” he continued, not even noticing the wandering eyes and fidgeting hands of the child. “I must have been about your age...” The child rolled his eyes, sensing that this day might be full of boring reminiscences. The old man continued, carried away in his memories to a time and a place long ago.

“My granddad brought me here, to this very spot. I couldn’t understand, and can’t say I was even very interested in what he had to say. Even so, I remember it as if it were yesterday, because of the unusual thing he did that day.”

The child’s attention was now riveted upon the old man, his young eyes trying in vain to plumb the depths of the old man’s visage. “A special secret!” the child thought. Many were the times the child had imagined holding a secret which no one else in the whole world knew. and now today, that dream was about to come true.

“What did your grandpa do that was so unusual?” The child was fairly tingling with excitement, eyes dancing in anticipation. The old man stood slowly and painfully to his feet.

“You see nothing unusual about this place,” he asked? “Are you sure?”

The child looked around, but nothing seemed to have changed. “Just a bunch of bushes and one old tree. Seems pretty ordinary to me.” He was obviously disappointed. Maybe the secret was just a figment of the old man’s imagination.

Suddenly the old man barked out a command, all the more startling because the child had never before heard this tone of voice from him. “COME HERE!” he nearly shouted, then bending low on one knee, he gestured for the child to step up. As the child did so, the old man stood with an unknown strength and speed that lifted the child in one sweeping movement to his shoulders.

“Now what do you see?” he asked triumphantly. For a long moment, the child was speechless. Stretching out before them both but visible only from this lofty height was a vista that could not have been imagined when the child had both feet planted firmly on the ground. Fields and forests, hills and mountains draped in hues of deep to fading blue.

“It’s beautiful,” the child finally whispered, almost breathless at the glory spread before them, afraid that even the sound of his voice might somehow break the spell and splendor that lay before them in unending waves to the horizon and beyond. Just as quickly as before, the old man reached up and grasping an awaiting hand, swept the child earthward.

“Do you understand?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. It was so...so beautiful. I never would have known if you hadn’t picked me up and sat me on your shoulders.” The child hesitated before stating what was on his mind. “What I really want to know is, what did your grandpa tell you?”

The old man chuckled with delight. This was the moment he had been waiting—no, longing for. Looking into the child’s eyes, he said, “When I was a little boy, my grandpa brought me here, lifted me up, and told me what I am going to tell you. He said that standing on his shoulders, I would see more than he ever would. Child, never forget that you stand on the shoulders of those who went before you, and because you do, you can see farther, and behold glories I can only dream of. And because you can see farther, you can go farther, beyond, and better than I. I will always be proud of you, cheering for you, and praying that God will use you to accomplish greater glories than I will ever see.”

As they walked slowly home in the twilight, the old man’s eyesight fading in the shadows, he reached out his hand and found waiting the small hand of the child who even in the deepening darkness, saw brightly the path ahead.

Recognizing Jesus

April 19, 2020

This morning’s Scripture lesson came from Luke 24, the story of Jesus’ appearance to the disciples on the way to Emmaus. It’s a strange story, but filled with substance. Two disciples were walking from Jerusalem to the small village of Emmaus, discussing current events, which happened to be the crucifixion of Jesus and the disappearance of his body from the tomb. Jesus drew up alongside them and began asking about their conversation. The text says, “their eyes were restrained, so they did not know him.” 

I wonder what restrains my vision so I cannot recognize Jesus even when he is right beside me? It’s not like Jesus hadn’t told his followers what was going to happen to him, but still they didn’t understand. His response to their obtuseness was to reprimand them. “You are slow of heart to believe.” Notice that he didn’t accuse them of doubt, but of unbelief. There is a difference. Doubt wonders how something could happen. Unbelief doubts that it could happen.  Doubt is a function of the mind; unbelief is a function of the heart. Not only could they not wrap their minds around the resurrection; it was an impossibility as far as they were concerned. How often have I dismissed what God has plainly said in the Scriptures, maybe not giving voice to my unbelief, but nonetheless not believing it could happen. How often do we limit and constrict what God wants to do not because we cannot imagine how he might do it, but because we don’t believe he can or will.

As Jesus explained the Scriptures to them, something stirred within them. “Their hearts burned,” they later said to each other. Jesus was giving them a first-rate Bible lesson, but it wasn’t until he broke bread with them that their eyes were opened (v. 35). They didn’t need Bible teaching as much as they needed an experience of Jesus himself. Bible study is a wonderful thing, but liberal seminaries are filled with professors who have lots of Bible knowledge but little Jesus experience. It’s not the halls of academia we need nearly as much as the table of fellowship where Jesus feeds the soul.

We have made use of every technology available to us in order to stay connected with each other. We offer online Bible lessons, online worship, online prayer times. It is good, and people are being reached, but I don’t know of anyone who doesn’t long for that day when we can again meet face to face. Why is that? It is in the fellowship—the ordinary occasions where we gather around the coffee pot, where we give and receive hugs and handshakes, the meals we share—it is in such gatherings, large and small, that we experience in a unique way the presence of Christ. 

I am grateful for all the benefits technology has given us, but I am also praying for the day when I can hug my grandchildren (yes, even you, Eliza!), have coffee with my friends, and hold each other’s hands in prayer. Till then, the best I can do is hold them in my heart, which I do with deep gratitude for the people God has brought into my life, those I know and love as brothers and sisters in Christ.

Provisions

April 18, 2020

“Make no provision for the flesh” (Romans 13:14). As Paul begins wrapping up his great theological treatise, he does what he so often does in his writing. Having begun by laying a theological foundation, he builds upon it in very pragmatic ways. In the previous chapter and in the first two thirds of this one, he gave instructions concerning our relationships with one another. He will continue in that vein in chapter 14, but for four verses (11-14), he pauses to reflect upon how we conduct our inner life. 

He spoke similarly in 1 Thessalonians 5:22 where he said, “avoid all appearance of evil.” His words here are stronger. It’s one thing to avoid anything that appears to be evil; it is quite another to make no provision for it. Back in 1999, people were panicking over Y2K. Remember? “Computer clocks aren’t set for a change in millenia; the entire grid could shut down! There won’t be any food!” There was a rush on the supermarkets. Ten years later, my mother still had a case of canned beans from Y2K sitting in her closet. That scenario was repeated a few weeks ago as people cleaned out shelves of toilet paper, of all things. The cereal aisle at Walmart, normally full to overflowing, was completely empty. It looked like the shelves I saw regularly in Cuba. People were “making provision,” stocking up to make sure they didn’t run out.

Paul says we do the same thing spiritually, in a negative way. We stock up, making sure the flesh has the wherewithal to feed itself no matter what. What does that mean? It’s like the alcoholic keeping a secret stash, “just in case,” even as he attends his AA meetings. It’s the overweight person on Weight Watchers who keeps chips and dip on hand, or the young man who wants to be pure, but has memorized the links to pornographic sites.

But “the flesh” is not what people often think it is. Paul is not contrasting the physical and spiritual part of us. People often think of the flesh as things like lust, or addictions—bodily cravings. Paul uses an entirely different word for such things. The flesh can be bodily cravings, but it is also the grudge we carry against someone who wronged us, the greed or fear that causes us to purchase more than we need, the refusal to give thanks in the midst of depression or sorrow, the desire for holiness that succumbs to our reaching for a novel instead of the Scriptures, our sleepiness in prayer. We tell “little white lies,” make excuses, refuse to forgive. We “provide for” the flesh in a myriad of ways, most of which are quite socially acceptable, thank you.

So how do we stop making provision for the flesh? Paul’s first word is to wake up (v.11). Wipe the sleepiness from our spiritual eyes, and pay attention to what God is saying. Jesus told the story of a man who had all he needed and more, who decided to tear down his barns and build bigger ones. Jesus called him a fool, because that night, he was going to die. We provide for the flesh by building bigger barns for all the spiritual garbage we love to accumulate. We would do well to start cleaning out those barns and begin laying away those things which feed the spirit—prayer, fasting, time in the Word, uplifting music and conversation, praise and thanksgiving. The more I provide for these, the less room I have in my heart for that which is destructive. Ephesians 4:27 says it this way: “Don’t give the devil a foothold.” 

I need to do some inventory. What provisions for the flesh are in my spiritual cupboard? What have I hidden away in the recesses of my heart’s closet for that time when I may want to judge someone, criticize, or cut them to ribbons with my tongue? It’s time for those provisions to be dragged out and thrown away, so there is room for the healthy food of the Spirit of God.

Joyful Tribulation

April 17, 2020

My original plan was to read through Romans in one setting, but along the way, my attention and therefore my progress, got arrested at numerous places. Today it was chapter 12, verse 12: “Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, steadfast in prayer.” When I read that, I thought, “I’ve heard that before.” It was in chapter 5.

“through [Christ] also we have access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and rejoice in hope of the glory of God. And not only that, but we also glory in tribulations, knowing that tribulation produces perseverance; and perseverance, character; and character, hope.” —Romans 5:2-4 NKJV

The similarities are startling. Rejoicing in hope, and tribulation are common to both passages. In the fifth chapter, Paul gives us the progression of faith in troubles: “tribulation produces perseverance which produces character which produces hope. As I commented recently, I’ve learned a bit how that works as we persevere through troubles develops our character and we learn that there is precious little in this life to give hope, so we look to eternal life in Christ. That’s the path, but in 12:12, Paul gives us the process.

We rejoice in hope only as we are patient and enduring in tribulations, as we let tribulation do its work (as James says in 1:4). We learn through suffering that this world cannot give us the hope we need, so we begin to hope in eternal things which enables us to joyfully rise above troubles. This is not a pie-in-the-sky fantasy, but a genuine transformation of our thinking that comes through suffering (see Romans 12:2). 

The key difference in these two texts is when Paul brings prayer into the mix. Prayer is the catalyst that effects the change in attitude. When I face troubles prayerfully, not as mere begging God to take it away, but seeking him in the midst of it, everything changes. While I may still pray to be spared the trouble (think of the Lord’s Prayer—“Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”), if I enter trials prayerfully, I am also asking God what I need to learn and how I can draw nearer to him. 

A lifetime ago when I was in seminary, Linda and I were dirt poor. We had gone from making $12,000/year (yeah, it was that long ago!) to $5,500. Entertainment for us consisted of driving a couple miles to an enormous Toys R Us in Cicero, putting the boys (ages 2 and 4) in shopping carts and walking the aisles so they could play with whatever caught their fancy. We learned to trust God in ways we never had before, and when I graduated, we were debt free. We have often looked back on those years and wondered how we managed to do it. Fact is, we didn’t. God did. All we did was trust him, and our faith was more alive and vibrant than it had been before, and in many ways, since. Trials drive us to our knees. The rejoicing and hope of which Paul speaks is not automatic. It comes only as we learn through the troubles to let go of false hopes and cling to the only real and eternal hope we have: Jesus Christ.

Sidelined

April 16, 2020

“Nor are they all children because they are the seed of Abraham; but, “In Isaac your seed shall be called.”” —Romans 9:7 NKJV

“Essential workers” have been busy lately. Whether it’s First Responders, truckers, grocery store clerks and stock boys, or a host of others, people have been busy. Two weeks ago, I filled boxes for food distribution at the Salvation Army in Dunkirk. We practiced social distancing, and once the boxes were filled, I came home. Sunday, I came down with the flu. Linda insists it was more than that, but my doctor said going to the hospital to get tested would put me in greater danger than if I just stayed home and rode it out. So that’s what I did. Two weeks sitting at home while I watch others serving in various capacities. If retirement put me on a shelf, these last two weeks, I’ve been shoved to the back of it.

Thus my reflection on Isaac. Jewish and early Christian tradition consistently spoke of God as “the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob,” but when we actually read the stories, it’s more like the God of Abraham and Jacob. Isaac is almost invisible. He repeats his father’s deception at one point, and sends his servant to get a bride for his son from the ancestral lands, but other than that, the only thing of note Isaac did was to become the father of Jacob and Esau, and to be deceived by the former.

Think of it—he lived to be 180, but the only thing of note that he accomplished was to impregnate his wife. Talk about invisible! Yet the Bible is filled with these invisible people; most of the people in the genealogies are just names—placeholders, if you will. Yet each one is there for a reason; they are people who lived ordinary lives and faithfully passed the faith along to their children and grandchildren. 

God has his own plans and ways. “For My thoughts are not your thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways,” says the LORD. “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, So are My ways higher than your ways, And My thoughts than your thoughts.” (Isaiah 55:8-9). I cannot fathom nor plumb their depths, but I trust that even when on the sidelines, God’s was are good and just. If God’s purpose for Isaac was to be little more than a placeholder, I can be content with sitting on the sidelines for awhile. At least I can pray, and for that, I am thankful.

Taking Aim

April 15, 2020

Last fall, I neglected one of the cardinal rules of hunting. Noticing a deer ambling across my field of view, I got too excited, and instead of taking careful aim, it was a “point and shoot” scenario. Needless to say, that deer took off, as did the four others behind her that I didn’t see. Accuracy with a rifle requires the target, the front, and the rear sight to be aligned in a single plane. It takes three points of reference to make an accurate shot.

Much of life is like that, and we get into trouble when our only point of reference is our present experience. The Biblical analogy for me is to line up the message of the Gospel, my present experience, and the ultimate goal of all Creation bowing before Jesus Christ to the glory of God the Father (Philippians 2:10-11). Yesterday as I was reading through the eighth chapter of Romans, I noticed a three-fold alignment I hadn’t seen before. In verse 22, Paul says all of Creation “groans” with birth pangs, laboring toward its ultimate redemption. In verse 23, Paul says that we ourselves “groan,” waiting for the redemption of our body. Lastly, in verse 26, the Holy Spirit intercedes for us with “groanings that cannot be uttered.”

Creation, ourselves, and the Holy Spirit are all doing the same thing, deeply longing for the full redemption of all Creation. Following this amazing assertion, Paul makes that grand statement that “all things work together for good for those who love God and are called according to his purpose” (v. 28). Christians love to quote this verse, especially in times of trouble, but we seldom take time to ask what it means. One thing we know from experience: it doesn’t mean everything is necessarily going to turn out the way we want. He continues, guiding us to the goal of being “conformed to the image of his Son” (v.29). 

That goal may include a great deal of trials and troubles because they are the tools God uses to mold and shape us into the image of Christ. Jesus himself said that if he had to endure suffering, we shouldn’t be surprised to have to go through the same furnace he went through.

Sometimes we wonder if our prayers are “according to God’s will” because they are the only prayers Jesus promised to answer. Here’s one way of making sure ours pass muster: If my prayers line up with the groanings of Creation and the groanings of the Holy Spirit as they long for full redemption, they are according to God’s will. If my prayers instead are selfish, petty, and picayune, I have no reason to expect a divine answer. The glory of God revealed in the redemption of all Creation through the insurmountable love of Christ poured out upon the Cross is the ultimate goal of all genuine prayer. 

Praying in the will of God is a matter of paying attention to the things Creation and the Holy Spirit groan about, and pressing those purposes and longings into prayer for the glory of Christ. It’s not easy to do, so I am grateful for the Scriptures that over and over are the foundation and pattern for my prayers. Without them, my prayers would degenerate into a wish list of personal and often petty concerns. Without the Scripture, I am only “point and shooting,” and too often missing the target. But with them, I can line up my prayer sights so I am hitting the target of God’s glory in Jesus Christ.

Suffering

April 14, 2020

“Be careful what you ask for. God might just answer your prayers.” My Sunday School teacher, Mrs. Cantrall, stood before her class of 13 year olds, tears streaming down her face. “I told God that if there were anything standing between him and myself, I wanted him to remove it,” she said solemnly. “And I loved my husband dearly.” The room was dead silent as she continued, “I asked God to do this, and soon after, my husband had a heart attack and died. Be careful what you ask for.”

One could argue that God didn’t take her husband, but to the end of her days, she was convinced. She wasn’t bitter, but she was wiser. Her words to that Sunday School class echo in my ears to this day, especially as we pray our way through this COVID 19. I’ve heard countless prayers begging for an early end to it; I’ve prayed a few of them myself. I’ve listened to prayers for protection, safety, and healing; I’ve prayed a few of them myself. But what if...?

God can freely give healing to the sick, presence of mind to the tormented, wisdom to the confused, even life to the dead. But what if God intends to use this pandemic for purposes we have yet to discern? In Romans 8, Paul addresses our circumstances from 2,000 years ago. He lays out the situation in vv. 18-22.

“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us. For the earnest expectation of the creation eagerly waits for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of Him who subjected it in hope; because the creation itself also will be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation groans and labors with birth pangs together until now.”

Creation is groaning, longing for deliverance. What God created and called good still retains much of its glory, but disease, natural disasters, and ecological crises of human origin have the earth in a death-grip. So we pray, but often blindly. We long for deliverance and pray accordingly, but sometimes we get the specifics wrong. Paul continues in vv. 26-27:

“Likewise the Spirit also helps in our weaknesses. For we do not know what we should pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself makes intercession for us with groanings which cannot be uttered. Now He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because He makes intercession for the saints according to the will of God.”

We often pray blindly for all sorts of things, thinking that what we want or how we would do things is what God wants and what his ways are. Such is not always the case. Isaiah reminds us, 

 “My thoughts are not your thoughts, Nor are your ways My ways,” says the LORD. “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, So are My ways higher than your ways, And My thoughts than your thoughts.” —Isaiah 55:8-9 NKJV

I’ve learned that before I blindly pray about anything, it is wise to first ask God what it is he might be trying to accomplish. I don’t like being ill, but sometimes God uses it to get my attention. I didn’t like the years when Park church nearly folded due to the spiritual attack upon it back in ‘04, but I learned a lot through it.

Paul concludes his thoughts on the groanings of Creation with these oft-quoted words:

“What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things? Who shall bring a charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies. Who is he who condemns? It is Christ who died, and furthermore is also risen, who is even at the right hand of God, who also makes intercession for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? As it is written: “For Your sake we are killed all day long; We are accounted as sheep for the slaughter.” Yet in all these things we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

—Romans 8:31-39 NKJV

In the middle of this paean to the never-ending presence and power of Christ that overcomes all our troubles, Paul inserts a quotation from Psalm 44:22: “For Your sake we are killed all day long; We are accounted as sheep for the slaughter.” It’s a strange insertion, but an accurate reminder for the people to whom Paul was writing. You see, we are facing a natural disaster. There are all sorts of political questions surrounding its spread, and people will be pointing fingers and assigning blame for months to come, but Paul’s audience was feeling the pressure of political and military power arrayed against them. They were not just suffering; they were suffering for Christ. 

It matters not the reason for the trouble; for the Christian, the answer to it is prayer that seeks God’s mind, trust in God’s heart, and hope in God’s future, all of which is vouchsafed to us in the crucified, resurrected, and glorified Jesus Christ, our Lord.