Restlessness

 

May 7, 2022

Linda was almost freaking out. A woman from our church had called her up saying, “The Lord told me you had a message for me from him.” 

“Well, he didn’t let me know about it!” she responded, and later to me, she added, “What am I supposed to say?” This having happened back in the ‘70s, I can’t remember what I told her, but things haven’t changed much in the nearly fifty years since. Preachers and prophets (often self-proclaimed) often claim Holy Spirit authority for their various pronouncements and proclamations. They say things like, “The Holy Spirit spoke to me about…” or, “The Spirit is moving powerfully here…” It is always possible, but it is also always possible to be deceived by the inner working of our own will and desires. 

I’ve been reading in the book of Hebrews, today in chapter 3, verse 7: “Therefore, as the Holy Spirit says…” He goes on to quote Psalm 95:7-11. The only sure “witness of the Spirit” is the Word of God. It is through the Scriptures that the Holy Spirit speaks assuredly and unfailingly. And when he speaks, he often does so with words similar to those found here, warning of the danger of unbelief hardening our hearts. 

One of the tests of the state of my heart is the very condition stated here, ie. restlessness. The unbelief of the Israelites kept them from entering God’s rest—“You shall not enter my rest.” (v. 11). There is a lot of restlessness in the world today, even in the Church. Many are in a continual panic over all sorts of things. We are restless; we HAVE to be busy; we are so jittery we can’t even take a full Sabbath. We are as Jeremiah says, “like the restless waves of the sea,” never still.

The work of the Holy Spirit always brings an end to our restlessness. Jesus said that the Holy Spirit “will testify of me.” (John 15:26), and “he will glorify me.” (16:14). Jesus said, “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” (John 14:27) 

The Holy Spirit always points us to Jesus Christ, who gives peace to the restless heart. Which begs the question: “What does the state of my rest or restlessness reveal about the work of the Holy Spirit in me? If I am troubled, I must, as Hebrews 3:7-11 says, turn to the Word of God which through the Holy Spirit, points me to Jesus, who replaces my restlessness with peace.

Wisdom

 May 6, 2022

One of the first Scripture verses I memorized after coming to Christ as I entered my teenage years was Proverbs 3:5-6, in the old King James Version, of course. 

“Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; 

And lean not unto thine own understanding. 

In all thy ways acknowledge him, 

And he shall direct thy paths.”

Thumbing through my old Bible, these words popped out at me once again, but with the added perspective of old age. The words, “all thine heart” convict and challenge me. The longer I live, the more aware I am of the division within my heart. I would like to say I am trusting the LORD with all my heart, but I am too aware of the truth of the prophet Jeremiah: “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked; who can know it?” (17:9) 

Pop psychologists tell young people to “follow your heart;” some of the worst advice that can be given. Our culture has taught an entire generation that we are basically good people, despite the witness of thousands of years of wisdom and the realities that surround us every day. Trusting in the LORD with ALL our heart is a continual battle of the spirit versus the flesh, as St. Paul puts it.

The Proverb continues: “Lean not to thine own understanding.” Modern versions put it this way: “Don’t rely upon your own understanding.” I must confess, I’ve done that more often than I care to remember. I did my research, thought the matter through, and charged ahead without sufficiently (read: “any”) praying. Like Israel with the deceitful Jebusites, I never failed to pay a price for trusting in my own wisdom, which is limited by human limitation, sinful nature, and selfish desires. I’ve too often believed I had better answers, knew more than others; in short, I was wise in my own eyes, which, had I read verse seven, I might have known better: 

“Be not wise in thine own eyes: 

Fear the LORD, and depart from evil.”

There is only one reliable source for wisdom—that Old Book I’ve been reviewing these past few days. I like the way Psalm 119 puts it: 

“I have more understanding than all my teachers: 

For thy testimonies are my meditation. 

I understand more than the ancients, 

Because I keep thy precepts.”

—Psalm 119:99-100 

Any wise decisions I’ve made have been due to the Word of God that somehow seeped into my soul to penetrate a heart that was often hard and dull, till it brought forth fruit from a seed I didn’t always know was there.

God is faithful, and in addition to giving wisdom to his people, he picks up the broken pieces and loose ends I offer to him when I finally wise up. That’s something for which to be thankful tonight!

Scofield

 May 5, 2022

Last winter, figuring it was time to unpack some of the books I had boxed up when I retired, I refinished a set of barrister bookshelves that had been dismantled and stacked in the back of my garage. Among the various books on history and theology, I unpacked the very first Bible I ever owned. It was given to me by my parents upon my profession of faith in Christ. The cover is tattered and falling apart, as are parts of the Book itself. It is marked and underlined, filled with notes and comments. The bookplate in the front was designed and inked by my mother, which makes it even more of a treasure to me.

Some of my contemporaries would perhaps scoff at the fact that it is a Scofield Reference Bible, the notes and cross-references being the work of C.I. Scofield, forerunner to the fundamentalist movement of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Scoff they may, but it was in this Bible I cut my Christian teeth; the teaching and mentoring I received from the men and women of Westside Baptist Church, many of whom had identical Bibles, has stood the test of time, and remains the foundation upon which my life in Christ has been built.

That old Bible has long since been retired, but its pages are testimony to the power of the Word of God in a young man’s life. Someone once said, “A Bible that’s falling apart usually belongs to someone who isn’t.” I can vouch for that, and am grateful for this old friend from years ago.

Neglect

 May 4, 2022

Whether one is shooting deer or basketballs, the principle is the same: a small error at the outset of a shot can mean missing the target altogether. This principle is true in life, too. Hebrews 2:1, 3 warns, “we must give the more earnest heed…lest we drift away…fro how shall we escape if we neglect so great a salvation?”

I don’t think I am in much danger of rejecting the Gospel, but every day, I face the danger of neglecting it, which neglect has perilous consequences. Prayerlessness, distractions, pride, carelessness are all continually making war with my spirit and must be continually resisted. I don’t think I am alone when I say I am inherently lazy, and will take the easy path if given the choice. It is easier to drift than to stay on target. The latter requires discipline, focus, determination. As someone once said, “Even a dead fish can go downstream.”

In the next chapter, the writer encourages us to “exhort one another daily…lest you be hardened through the deceitfulness of sin” (3:13). That word “daily” challenges me. With their daily gatherings for prayer, the monastics take these words much more seriously than do most of us. We have somehow come to the place where we think once a week is enough, and even that is becoming less and less common. Worship and fellowship are what we do when it’s convenient; when something “better” hasn’t come along, and even when we gather, there is little actual accountability and exhortation. 

The danger is real. Sin’s deceitfulness hardens us. It dulls the senses to the Spirit, and isolates us from each other by wrapping us in shame and guilt. Remaining tender to God is critical, and is best done in the context of people we know and trust so well that we are unashamed to bare our souls. That is only possible when we gather often enough to build trust. A hard heart is a dying heart; we need the exhortation to keep us humble and sensitive to the whisperings of the Holy Spirit. May we welcome those who challenge and encourage us to stay alert and sharp, lest we neglect our great salvation.

Remembering

 May 3, 2022

“My soul longs for You, O God.” —Psalm 42:1. 

Can I honestly say this? In one sense, it is true of all of us. God has put a longing deep within us that can be satisfied only by him. We often attempt to fill that longing with other things—money, sex, power, acclaim—but they all fall short, and we keep longing, searching, hoping.

The psalm goes on to say, “When I remember (this longing); “I will remember You…” We have both individual and collective amnesia. I have forgotten so much that I have lost touch with my own soul, my deep longings. We have forgotten what we are longing for; buried them beneath all the false and futile satisfactions that never quite satisfy. 

In the beginning, God formed man of the dust of the earth, making a body into which he breathed the breath (“spirit”) of life, and “the man became a living soul.” It is the spiritual infused into the physical that creates the soul, the person in his entirety. When the body and spirit lose touch with each other, the soul is the casualty. We forget…God, ourselves, our humanity.

O Lord, remind me of who I am. Remind me of how you value the crown of your creation. Remind me of who you are, that I might long for you, remembering your great loving sacrifice. Remind me in the night of your light, and in the day of your presence at all times. Remind me, that I might long again for you…and find you nearby, where you’ve always been even when I forget.

D.V.

 May 2, 2022

“Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city, spend a year there, buy and sell, and make a profit”; Instead you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we shall live and do this or that.” But now you boast in your arrogance. All such boasting is evil.” —James 4:13, 15-16 

Often the old-time Bible commentators would pen a preface to their work, concluding with the letters “D.V.” Why were these two letters which slip by most modern readers so important as to be included almost as a post-script? Because those old authors understood something we too often forget. These letters stand for “Deo Volente,” “God Willing.” We moderns often take life for granted, assuming we will be able to fulfill tomorrow the plans we make today. We have become accustomed to being in control of our lives, and feel cheated if anything interrupts the carefully mapped-out future we have planned.

It all works pretty well until we hit a bump in the road, or even worse, find a big detour sign blocking our way. I don’t know too many people who haven’t had a few of those detours blocking the road they were on. A young woman thinks he is about to propose, but instead he breaks up with her. After a lifetime of hard work and saving, he gets a report from the doctor that sends their retirement travel plans up in smoke. A drunk driver ends the dreams of a young woman who just graduated from medical school.

At times like this, we are tempted to shake our fist at God; after all, we were doing our best to serve him. How could he do this to us?

James knew how fragile life can be. The early Church spread primarily among the poor of the day; the slaves, the sick, those society cast off. There was no safety net, no retirement plans, no health insurance. But the bottom rung of society weren’t the only ones to believe. Earlier in his letter, James spoke to those who had plenty of this world’s resources, chiding them for their condescending attitudes towards those less fortunate (James 2:1-9). 

I don’t believe we realize how much we take for granted our regular income, our jobs, our health, our homes, our security. Mother Theresa said it well: “You don’t know Jesus is all you need till Jesus is all you have.” I’ve never been in so destitute that Jesus is all I have. I may think I’ve put my complete trust in him, but have I?

I don’t think I’ve been boasting lately, but plans we’ve made have come to a screeching halt. Our son’s brain tumors have changed our daily routine. This morning, Linda tested positive, so the plans we had made to help Nate and Deb have been put on hold. To help out our other kids, we had planned to drive various grandchildren to their sports events and doctors appointments this week. Scratch that!

These interruptions are pretty minor; after all, we aren’t being targeted by Russian artillery or missiles, haven’t had our home torn apart by a tornado, and aren’t awakened in the night by gunfire outside our door. Nonetheless, we are not guaranteed tomorrow, so tonight I make plans, but always in mind are those two letters: “D.V.”

Chicken Little Theology

May 1, 2022

Pastor Brandon’s sermon this morning was taken from Acts 9:1-6, the story of Paul’s conversion. His theme was how God chooses unlikely people through unlikely circumstances for his purposes. But what really caught my attention was his text not from the Bible, but from Chicken Little.

“The sky is falling! The sky is falling! Most of us know the story; it’s a folk tale that is true to life as we know it. For the past three years we’ve listened to talking heads from every tv or computer screen crying out with rabid alarm, “The sky is falling! The sky is falling!” Those aren’t their exact words, of course, but their theme is identical—“The world is coming to an end! Climate Change! Racism! Covid! Democracy is in danger!—The world is coming to an end!” They prey upon people’s fears and ignorance in order to manipulate and control. 

This is not to say we do not face real problems, but I’ve been around long enough to remember when the same people who are shedding crocodile tears over climate change said the world was going to face another ice age. That was before the ice caps were going to melt and flood every coastal city. Doomsday prophets are a dime a dozen; the sky is falling. But what if we change our perspective? Instead of the sky falling, maybe heaven is getting closer.

What if all the things about which we fret and worry about are God’s way of tapping us on the shoulder, trying to get our attention? Maybe instead of perseverating over all the bad things that could happen, we should listen to God calling us to himself. Wouldn’t it be a kick in the teeth of the media moguls if instead of cowering in fear like Chicken Little, eager to bow before any of the schemes the high and mighty have for the peons of this world, we were to say, “No, the sky isn’t falling; heaven is getting closer.”