Manifest Evidence

 April 21, 2022

“We ourselves boast of you among the churches of God for your patience and faith in all your persecutions and tribulations that you endure, which is manifest evidence of the righteous judgment of God, that you may be counted worthy of the kingdom of God, for which you also suffer;” —II Thessalonians 1:4-5 

The authors of the Bible most often viewed life through a different lens than we moderns. We take it for granted that God’s blessings consist of prosperity, health, peace and comfort; not so the Biblical writers. The many promises of prosperity attached to holy living are often the natural consequences of such a lifestyle. Hard work, frugality, and the avoidance of vices tends to produce prosperity, while dissipation and laziness do not.

Contrariwise, living a godly life tends to put one at odds with society. Cultures and societies, even those with Christian roots, trend towards hostility against those who dare challenge the ultimate loyalty demanded by them, which helps explain today’s Scripture. Persecution or mistreatment for giving our ultimate loyalty to Christ is a badge of faithfulness and as Paul says, “manifest evidence” of this loyalty. 

Only those who are somewhat unhinged eagerly court persecution. We usually avoid unnecessary trouble if we can. But faithful living is practically an open invitation to ridicule, mistreatment, and ostracism. Paul’s answer to such matters is to remind us that God has chosen us for a different path, and the fact that this path is strewn with obstacles and stumbling blocks is an indication that we are on the correct and narrow way to life.

Envy

April 20, 2022

“Can’t you just FEEL the presence of the Lord?” I cannot recall how many times I’ve heard statements like this; I smile politely, nod my head, and stand awkwardly for a few moments before slowly walking away. 

I’ve often wondered what is wrong with me that I don’t feel things the way other people do. I am occasionally moved to tears in worship, but it doesn’t happen often. When others holler and scream at sports events, I sit there enjoying the game, but wondering how people can get so worked up over it. I’ve wondered what it would be like to feel…really feel the ecstasy some people seem to feel at various times. I don’t have many highs, and my lows are pretty mild. If my emotional state were printed out on a heart monitor, you’d say I was dead…flatlined.

For years, I’ve seen this as some sort of curse. “Why can’t I feel the joy so-and-so feels?” It would be wonderful to be carried away by the wind of the Spirit, or so I think. But maybe there’s another side to things. My family is walking through a difficult time right now with my son’s cancer diagnosis. Linda, having a mother’s heart, has felt crushed. As Simeon said of Mary, “a sword shall pierce your soul,” so Linda feels the stab of shock and sorrow. She lives out of her emotions, so it’s been hard on her, as I know it has been for our daughter-in-law Debbra, and their girls. I don’t mean to sound sexist, but the women in our family process things differently than we men. 

I think God wired me just right for times like this. I’ve had my moments, but for the most part, I’ve been pretty steady through it all. I was sitting in pastor Daniel’s house in Cuba when I first got the news; supper was about to be served, and though I wasn’t hungry, I ate, then went outside by myself. I called people who needed to know, but mostly just brooded through the night, praying and crying out to God. Arrangements were made, and I flew home, stopping at the hospital long enough to see Nate and pray with him. Since then, I’ve just carried on, doing what needs to be done; “Steady Eddy.”

Remember I used to wish I could feel more deeply? God convicted me of this today. Envy is a sin, even when it targets another’s spiritual gifts or experience (Romans 1:29). Envy essentially says, “God, you don’t know what you are doing! You gave me the wrong personality, the wrong gifts; I want something different.” I had to repent of this sin, and today, I am grateful God wired me the way he did. It enables me to walk through this trial relatively unruffled. God knew what he was doing when he made me the way I am. And he knew what he was doing when he made you the way you are. He is good…all the time! 

A Merry Heart

 April 19, 2022

“A merry heart doeth good, like medicine.” —Proverbs 17:22

This past week has been a roller-coaster ride as we received news of our son’s brain tumors. When I arrived at the hospital last Thursday evening, I had no idea what I would be seeing, so seeing him encouraging his nurse and praying for her was a relief I hadn’t expected. Friday he came home, and Sunday, he addressed both services at church. “I didn’t expect to be here this morning,” he said, and although it wasn’t in his normal capacity as worship leader, he was grateful to be there, adding that he hadn’t realized how much of life we take for granted.

People keep asking how we are doing; how he is doing, and the answer is, I think he is doing much better than we. Case in point: his sense of humor hasn’t been affected by the tumors. Saturday, he and Debbra hosted their annual Easter egg hunt, as they have done for years. Later in the day, the family gathers again to color eggs. It’s interesting watching high school and college age kids coloring eggs like they were kindergartners. 

Nate has a niece who hates to be hugged, so he approached her, arms open wide. When she balked, he pointed to his head and said, “Brain tumor!” He’s decided to milk it for all it’s worth. Yesterday, I stopped over to give him a phone number. He was out walking in his backyard, phone to his ear. After waiting for about ten minutes, I went into his barn, got a shovel, and started picking up dog poop. He talked for another ten minutes, finally edging close as I scooped up another pile. “If I keep pretending someone’s on the other end long enough, you’ll have the whole yard done,” he whispered as he walked by.

He could be angry, heartbroken, or sad, but he told me, “I’m almost giddy about the opportunities this is giving me to speak of Christ.” He understands the challenges yet to be faced, but sees even more the wider ministry this offers. And through it all, his merry heart will be a big part of his healing process. 

So, don’t expect a long face and woe-is-me eyes. His heart is too full of Christ for that; the same Christ who “for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross.”

Location, Location, Location!

 April 18, 2022

“Location, Location, Location!” any real estate agent will tell you it’s the most important factor in buying or selling property. A cottage located in the middle of a tract of land a developer has eyed could be worth more than a mansion in a run down section of a city. Our last house suited us perfectly; it had a mother-in-law apartment on one side, plenty of storage, four bedrooms and three baths, hardwood floors and remodeled throughout. I loved that house, but there was one problem. The local fire department was almost in our backyard. When the siren went off, it was ear-splitting! If outside, we had to cover our ears. When it went off in the middle of the night, we swore it could wake the dead. No matter how much I loved that house, its location determined its value.

The first two chapters of Ephesians, and scattered through the firs three chapters of Colossians, is the phrase, “in Christ,” or “in him.” Too often, we read these words experientially instead of positionally. We want to feel “in Christ,” whatever that means. By doing this, “in Christ” is reduced from an eternal fact to a temporal feeling, robbing it of its significance and power. That little word “in” is not a description of emotion, but of position, and according to Paul, it is an eternal fact. Upon which we can and must lean, especially when feelings fail and circumstances lie to us. How I feel is unimportant; where I am is what counts.

“In Christ” is not only the best; it’s the only place to be, for only there are we clothed in righteousness, filled with his Spirit, living in grace and holiness, bathed in his beauty, and sealed for eternity. 

Disarmed

 April 17, 2022

Our son continues to amaze me. He spoke at worship this morning about his diagnosis of having five tumors on his brain and a lesion on a lung. “Not what I had envisioned this Sunday to be,” he said. But immediately, he turned to his purpose. “Whatever you’re going through today, you need Jesus.” “I didn’t realize how much I’ve taken life for granted; we’re not promised tomorrow, so get right with Jesus today.” “Pastor Joe and I agree; we are one-trick ponies. All we have to offer is Jesus.”

Yesterday, I wrote about Saturdays; those dark days of waiting, in between disaster and deliverance. I expect I may face quite a few of those Saturdays over the next weeks and months. Maybe not; perhaps God will miraculously heal our son. I would be delighted, but if God chooses a different path, we’ll walk it as faithfully as we know how, holding tightly to Jesus’ hand because that’s all you can do when you can’t see the path yourself.

This morning’s reading was in St. Paul’s letter to the Colossians Christians, chapter two, verse fifteen, where he says something curious in its accuracy. He says Christ has disarmed the principalities and powers—the very ones we stand against in Ephesians 6:12. “Disarmed,” he says. I would have said, “They are defeated,” or “destroyed,” but Paul knows better. Jesus disarmed them, took away their weapons of lies, hatred, fear, pride. “The battle is the Lord’s,” the Scripture says. Jesus fought the battle in our place, a battle we could not win and he did not lose. So we don’t actually have to fight; all we do is stand our ground. 

These principalities and powers are still here. We can see their destructive work everywhere they have not been exposed for what they really are—toothless pretenders.

On the cross, Jesus disarmed them. In the tomb, he buried their weapons forever. In his resurrection and ascension, he declared before heaven and earth his power forever. The principalities and powers of darkness may strut and brag; they threaten and cajole, but their weapons are gone! We stand on sure foundation of Jesus Christ, wielding the powerful weapons of our warfare that are able to cast down imaginations and all that exalts itself against God. We wield them against an enemy who stands naked and powerless before us because our Lord in whom we live and move and have our being has disarmed him, striding forth on this day from the tomb in glory and majesty and life eternal!

Saturday

 April 16, 2022

They had done all they could, but sometimes our best doesn’t seem enough. They had watched the One who promised eternal life die, hanging like a piece of meat, nailed to the cross. They took him down, washed him as best they could, wrapped him in linen and laid him in the tomb. Now all they could do was wait. Through the first night, all the next day, and the night following, they waited.

I’m beginning to understand what we now call Holy Saturday. Suspended between the shock and horror of the diagnosis, wondering how everything will turn out, bouncing between fear and faith like we were in an old pinball machine. St. Paul tells us to bring every thought captive to Christ (2 Cor. 10:4-5), and it turns out to be a full-time job. My thoughts break loose like an errant calf, bolting for places I don’t want to go. I have to chase them down and drag them back to Jesus. Over and over again.

It’s Saturday. The night has settled and I’m left with my thoughts and prayers; thoughts that wander and prayers that as of yet have no answers. Saturday is not a good place to be, but it is where I am. I know Sunday will come. I know the Story and believe in it’s promise, but I also know I’ll be living in Saturday for awhile now. I’ll get to know its contours, its shadows and turns. I’ll get to stand face to face with my faith. I know God is in control, but I don’t know what that means for us here and now. So I lean hard. Not on how I feel, but on what I believe; I lean hard on Jesus. 

This One who spoke eternal life lies in the grave tonight, and I lie with him. Tomorrow, whenever my tomorrow comes, we shall rise together, step into the sunshine and smile. Tomorrow. But tonight I must endure the darkness, feel the damp of the tomb, lie on the cold, hard stone, for if I refuse, there can be for me no resurrection. And that is something I don’t want to miss!

Tested Faith

 April 15, 2022

The past three days have suddenly turned our world upside down with the news of our son’s brain tumors. I wasn’t able to post because I have been in Cuba and wasn’t able to get online with my iPad, on which I write my posts. News such as ours has a way of putting things in perspective. Suddenly, things that had seemed important fade into the background, assuming their proper place in the hierarchy of significance.

We are tempted in our prayers to bargain with God, pleading Nathan’s service, his heart for Christ and the Gospel, those who look to him and depend upon him, but Nathan knows better than most that before a holy God, our only plea is the blood of Christ and God’s own promises in his Word. Not having righteousness of our own, we claim that of Christ who on this day more than two millennia ago, offered his in our place, taking our sins upon himself. Theologians have for these two thousand years attempted in vain to understand the Atonement; many theories have been offered, but it remains a mystery how God has worked through Christ on our behalf.

So if we can’t plead with God, citing our own virtues, what plea do we have? Only the promises in the Bible that God is for us in all things. He hasn’t promised an easy road without troubles and setbacks, but he has assured us of his goodness and faithfulness and his own presence in the midst of the trials.

Flying home from Cuba to be with Linda and with Nate, I was reading Martin Luther’s “Table Talk,” notes from dinner conversations recorded by a friend of his. Luther had his share of troubles; excommunicated from the Church, often in danger of his life from those who didn’t share his views. In one of his talks, he said this:

“Without trouble, trials, and vexations, prayer cannot rightly be made. Therefore God says, “Call on me in the time of trouble,” etc. without trouble it is only a cold prattling, and goeth not from the heart; the common saying is “Need teaches to pray.”

Before going to Cuba, I had reflected on forgiveness. People have said to me that certain offenses were too big to forgive; my response has always been, “Forgiveness is for the big stuff; the small things we ought to merely brush aside.” I think the same is true of faith. It isn’t hard to have faith that God will heal when it’s merely a cold, a broken bone, or such. But cancer? In the brain? That’s another matter altogether, and we all easily cite times we’ve prayed for healing in vain, causing us to pray tentatively, if at all.

As Luther said, apart from troubles, prayer is meaningless. But when the walls we face are tall and strong, it’s easy to believe what we see around us rather than what we can’t see. We are like Elisha’s servant, fearful of the enemy surrounding us, unable to see that enemy surrounded by the armies of God (2 Kings 6:17). I confess that I have to keep telling myself of the promises of God, because my mind wanders to all the “what ifs,” imagining scenarios I don’t want to consider. It’s then that Paul’s word to the Corinthian Christians keeps coming back to me, “Take every thought captive to Christ.” They keep wandering, and I keep roping them back back in through prayer.

A dear friend stopped by this evening, sharing her own story of God’s healing her of brain cancer. “They weren’t hopeful, but here I am, twenty years later…ALIVE because of Christ!” So I keep praying, and when my mind wanders to places I don’t want to be, I claim the Scriptures and refocus my attention upon Christ, our Savior and Healer. Keep praying for Nate; we are only beginning this journey, and know not what twists and turns may lie in the road ahead. But we are determined to walk it together with each other and with Christ. If you want to join us in informed prayer, his wife Debbra has put together a Facebook page, “Nate Bailey’s Progress Page.” found at the following link:

 https://www.facebook.com/NateBaileysProgress/?notif_id=1649958553634317¬if_t=page_invite_accept&ref=notif

Thank you in advance for your prayers. Pray believing, trusting God’s promises instead of your feelings. To God be the glory!