Give Me a Mountain!

December 31, 2015

Before retiring a year and a half ago, while on a mission trip in Cuba, I was talking with some of our friends about my imminent retirement and what God might have in store in years ahead. They prayed with me and Yami then prophesied over me. Referring to Joshua 14, she said, "You are Caleb. And like Caleb, you have another mountain to conquer. Go find that mountain!" In the Bible, Caleb was 85 when he asked Moses to give him Hebron for his inheritance. I have a few years before I catch up with him, and when I do, I don't think I'll be able to say as he did that he was as strong and vigorous as he had been forty years before. But I hope I will have the same enthusiasm and trust in the Lord as he had.

I've been working my way through Numbers in my daily Bible reading, and today found myself once more in chapter 14 which recounts the bad report given by ten of the twelve spies and the subsequent refusal of Israel to go in and take the land. Joshua and Caleb saw the same things as did the other ten, but instead of dwelling on the inhabitants's size and strength, said that "their protection is gone, and the LORD is with us. Don't fear them." How is it that these two came back recognizing the strength and size of the people, but convinced that they could be beaten? The 24th verse tells us: "My servant Caleb has a different spirit in him and has followed me fully." David Jeremiah notes that of the thirty verses that make mention of Caleb, no less than six times it is said of him that he had a different spirit in him. Victory or defeat depends not on what is around us, but on what is within us.

After reading today's Scripture and remembering the words spoken over me in Cuba, I paid a visit to my pastor. "I don't know all that God is telling you about the directions and plans he has for Park church, but I know that when Caleb finally entered the land, he did so under the leadership of Joshua, God's appointed leader for that new generation. Whatever God has for me, it will be under your leadership."

Caleb asked for the most difficult assignment of conquering the mountainous region where lived the Anakim (no, not Anakin, as in Darth Vader. This is Scripture, not Star Wars.), men of huge stature and a ferocious fighting reputation. Did I mention that Caleb had a different spirit in him? He wasn't about to sit around on his laurels and let younger and less experienced men do the fighting. He was a warrior from start to finish, and wanted to be where the action was thickest.

There are times I would like to sit back, rest, and let others do the heavy lifting, but although I'm not in the place of leadership any more, that doesn't mean I'm to sit on a shelf and merely watch the action. I am looking for the place where the battle is hot, the fighting furious, where victories are to be won, and glory to be gained for Jesus Christ. As the new year dawns, I am grateful to enter in, not as a has-been, but as a seasoned veteran, ready to take that mountain for God!

Three Years and Counting

December 30, 2015

Three years ago the day before yesterday, God spoke to me. I don't say these words lightly; I've listened to people who claim to have had God speaking to them, and more often than not, they seem a bit loopy to me; not that God can't speak to loopy people, but the things they say God told them usually don't stand the test of Scripture. I've told the story before, but it bears repeating as our presidential politics will be heating up pretty soon.

It was during the Obama/Romney debates. I was following the race pretty intently, both through cable news and internet feeds. When someone would post a particularly biting article or photo with commentary, I was quick to pass it along. And as a staunch conservative, when Obama won, I was pretty discouraged. Four years of this administration was more than enough, and the thought of another four didn't help my mood any. On December 28, 2012, God spoke. I didn't hear an audible voice, but there is no doubt in my mind that it was God who asked, "Jim, what happened to your joy?" Understand, no one would ever have accused me of being overly joyful even on my best days, but the fact is, it was gone. Completely. I didn't even know where to look for it.

That same day, I stumbled across a website, aholyexperience.com, on which I found a calendar called JoyDare which gave three suggestions each day of things for which to give thanks. I took up the challenge and started a gratitude journal, at first barely mentioning three things each day, but gradually taking time to stop, ponder, and really be thankful. I posted my observations on Facebook, and over time, one paragraph turned into two, three, and four. At the end of the year, I had nearly four hundred pages of things for which I was grateful. Best of all, when I looked back over the year I discovered that the melancholy that had dogged me most of my adult life was gone! I'm still not an over-the-top happy-happy kind of guy, but this discipline of gratitude has genuinely changed my life.

Turns out, it was a matter of sin and obedience. We are commanded in Scripture to give thanks in all circumstances (1 Thess. 5:18), and for all things (Eph. 5:20). Failing to do so wasn't just a personality quirk; it was a sin. And sin and joy are incompatible.

I haven't mastered this discipline yet; I stumble and grumble occasionally. But I've turned a lifetime of melancholy into a life of joy. So here we are in another cycle of presidential politics, and I'm tempted to get sucked into it all. But I have learned the futility of it all. Our future isn't tied to whatever happens next November. God is still in control, and even if the candidate I choose happens to win, he won't be the Messiah, and won't usher in the Kingdom of Heaven. And if my candidate loses, all won't be lost. Much, maybe, but not all, for my hope and my future is in the Christ who promised that one day "the kingdoms of this world will become the kingdom of our Lord, and of his Christ; and he shall reign forever and ever." (Revelation 11:15).

Seated

December 29, 2015

"[Jesus] ascended into heaven where he sits at the right hand of God, the Father Almighty." So continues the Apostles' Creed after stating the core of our faith in the resurrection. After the ringing declaration of the resurrection, and given the nearly complete omission of Jesus' ministry other than his birth and death, why would the ascension merit mention?

I remember being taught that when Jesus ascended, he presented the blood of his sacrifice to the Father, thus completing the atoning work of the cross. Hebrews 9:12-26 was the proof text for this teaching, and not being much of a working theologian, I cannot find much fault with this understanding. I do think however, that it goes a bit further than this. That Jesus is seated at the right hand of the Father is clearly affirmed in Scripture (Ephesians 1:20). This is not just a quaint expression. There are two things happening simultaneously here. First is the matter of being seated. Things were different in Jesus' time. Today, teachers stand in front of the classroom. The fact that they are standing and the pupils are seated indicates who is in charge. I can still hear the voices of teachers past barking at students who had the temerity to get up from their desks without asking permission. "Sit DOWN!" was not a command to be taken lightly back in the day when a visit to the principal's office could culminate in corporal punishment in the form of a four-foot long, two-handed paddle with holes drilled into the flat surface. A good solid whack from that beast could set the most stoic rebel on the verge of tears.

Back in Jesus' day, teachers sat while the students stood. In Matthew 5, the Sermon on the Mount begins with Jesus sitting down to teach. He was taking a position of authority. Vestiges of this custom persist today when in court. As the judge enters, the bailiff calls out, "the honorable _______, please rise!" The "please" is somewhat misleading. It's not a request; it's a command. Only when the judge is seated at the bar in the position of authority are those present allowed to be seated again.

That Jesus is seated means he is in a place of authority. It also means that the work of salvation is complete. He came, Isaiah prophesied, as a "Suffering Servant," and Jesus himself said he came to serve. Servants only sat once the work was done. Jesus is seated; salvation is therefore complete. But that isn't all. He is seated at the right hand of the Father, which is the place of highest honor and authority. There is no higher place than this; when Jesus said that "all authority is given to me in heaven and earth," he meant exactly what he said. But it gets even better. Ephesians 2:6 makes an astounding declaration when it tells us that our salvation includes being "seated together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus." The authority and honor that is rightly his alone, he shares with us. I cannot think of anything more humbling nor more amazing than this. That when we were dead in sins, he made us alive together with Christ would be astounding enough. That we should share in his glory, honor, and authority is almost beyond comprehension. The magnitude of our salvation is at the heart of this simple statement of the Creed, and I cannot think of words adequate to express my gratitude for it.

It's About Time

December 28, 2015

I finally have the grandfather clock calibrated...almost. At least it chimes on (or almost on) the correct hour. Now if I can only get the hours on the clock to match the hours of the day, we'll be golden. This delicate maneuvering I hadn't counted on when I first tackled this project. It will take a bit more fine tuning, and then adjusting the pendulum so it doesn't gain or lose time over the course of a week. Winding it however, is a bit easier than our antique school and mantle clocks which need to be wound with keys. A grandfather clock has weights suspended from chains that engage the mechanisms. A steady pull on the chains once a week, and we're in business!

Occasionally as I tend the clocks I think of the Scripture that says, "my times are in thy hands." (Psalm 31:15). When I was a boy attending Vacation Bible School at Westside Baptist Church, our class one particular summer was held in the balcony of the sanctuary. Chuck Bassett was the teacher, back then a young father who gave up vacation time to teach a class of preteen boys in a sweltering church loft. The craft that went with the lesson that particular day was a wooden clock face inscribed with the words of that Psalm. I couldn't tell you any specifics of the that lesson, but I've never forgotten the craft nor the Psalm.

Periodically throughout my life I've missed opportunities, failed to take appropriate action at the right time, and generally let slip through my fingers many blessings simply by not paying attention to the time. There are enough of these experiences that I could become quite discouraged by it all were it not for this simple statement of the Scriptures. No matter how badly I muff the situation, God is still in control. We are not like modern clocks that adjust automatically by satellite, always accurate, always spot-on. For whatever reason, God made us more like these old wind up mechanical clocks that need continual attention and fiddling to keep them running properly. God didn't just plug us in and let us go. He continually attends to us, adjusting here and there, winding us up when we get run down; always checking and listening for the steady rhythm of our hearts. Of course, all this is subsequent to the complete rebuilding he initiates in us when we repent of our sins and trust in Christ. It does no good to fiddle with a clock that is seized up or needing a complete overhaul. Neither does God putter around the edges of our lives. He is in the business of transforming us till we reflect his own image to all Creation. It's a tall order, and in this world, the work never ends. But just as I derive great satisfaction from hearing the steady tick-tock of my clocks, I believe God smiles when he finally gets us running right on time.

On the Third Day...

December 27, 2015

Reciting the Apostles' Creed every Sunday may seem like a rote and mindless recitation to some, but every time I repeat it I am inevitably brought back to the central and foundational truths of my life. Like a divine GPS rooted in the Holy Scriptures, it is a guide that unerringly points me towards home. I've written before about this ancient statement of faith, and it's time to return to it and attempt to plumb some of its depths.

The central (and lengthiest) part of the Creed is about Jesus Christ, because he is the focal point of the Gospel and of all God does in this world. Strangely, the Creed says much about his birth and death, but almost nothing about his life and ministry, which should tell us something about our faith's priorities. People who admire Jesus only as a good teacher or moral example completely miss the whole point of the Gospel. We may admire him for his teaching, respect him for his miracles, but we worship him because he was born a tiny baby to become the man who would die for the sins of the world.

"On the third day, he rose again from the dead..." So goes the Creed. And here we must stop for a moment. St. Paul says of the resurrection that "if Jesus be not raised, our faith is empty and we are still in our sins." (1 Corinthians 15:17). Without the resurrection, Jesus was just another ordinary Jew who got caught in the crosshairs of Roman oppression, a martyr perhaps, but not a Savior. It is the resurrection that makes Good Friday good, turning what looked like utter defeat into total victory.

"But," you say, "I don't feel any different." That line of thinking occasionally bothers me, too. I am not a particularly emotional man. I watch people who get all worked up over their relationship with Jesus. Some of them get excited, jumping and dancing all around. Others tear up, nearly overcome by the love of God. I raise my hands in worship, but not necessarily because I FEEL the presence of the Holy Spirit, but because it is one way of offering myself fully to God. I often wish I could feel his presence more deeply and more often, but either something inside me is broken, or it's just not the way I'm wired.

But the Creed doesn't say, "I feel...that on the third day he rose again from the dead." It says, "I believe" it. There are a lot of things I feel in life, but I've learned that often those feelings are deceiving. I've remember feeling that things were going just fine at Park church...just before the whole enterprise nearly imploded through the actions of some people I considered good friends. My feelings weren't very trustworthy then, and aren't much more reliable now.

But my beliefs are another thing altogether. I believe in the resurrection of Jesus Christ. There is plenty of Biblical evidence for it, and plenty of logic behind it. But I cannot prove it, any more than I can prove that Aristotle or Plato actually lived. It is our faith in the resurrection of Christ that gives us hope that we too, will someday rise again to a life more full and free than anything we have ever known here on earth. Jesus himself promised it: "Because I live, you shall live also." (John 14:19). I believe in Jesus' resurrection, and am grateful tonight for the promise inherent with that belief, that there is more, much more than we have yet seen. In my book, that's not a bad way to end this year and begin the next.

True Light

December 26, 2015

The gifts are not only opened, but assembled and operational, with the exception of the doorknob coat hangers I made for which Linda hasn't yet figured out where we have enough wall space to mount them. The excitement and frenzy of kids and grandkids opening their gifts has given way to a quiet weariness courtesy of all the hours of preparation and late-night celebrations.

Up until just a few moments ago, we were sitting in the dark. About an hour ago, the lights flickered and went out. We lit the kerosene lamps so she could read and I could write. It made me think about our dependency upon electricity. So much of how we live revolves around the harnessing of this power source. The first electric lights in the world, by the way, were lit about fifty miles north of us in Buffalo over a hundred years ago, due to the abundant hydro power of the Niagara River and Falls. Today most of the world's electricity comes from coal, oil, and gas which our government seems determined to end, at least for us. Where that power will come from in another hundred years is anyone's guess. Maybe we'll be back to living in evening semi-darkness, like our ancestors or the Amish.

The darkness isn't all bad. It sounds trite to say it, but it seemed to me that a quiet peace settled in as we sat in the dim light of those lamps. No television numbing our minds, no pressing tasks that couldn't wait (we couldn't see well enough to tackle any of them anyway!), no distractions of any sort; just a soft quiet. I wonder what we have lost with all the conveniences brought our way courtesy of electrical power. There is certainly an advantage to these conveniences. I would hate to have to saw by hand the lumber I have needed for various projects around here. The tile work in our entry room would have been pretty daunting without an electric tile saw. The meals Linda cooks would take much more of her day, and doing the laundry would be far more formidable than it is now. No TV, computers, internet, refrigerators, microwaves...Life would certainly be different.

But perhaps we wouldn't get so disconnected from one another. Maybe if tasks took longer, we would do more work together, and talk more in the process. Maybe if we sat less in front of a television and more in front of each other, we would grow deeper instead of just wider in the posterior. Maybe we would talk more and learn to love more. Maybe we would even pray more, and grow more like Christ. Strange that the light that has come into our lives has often kept us us from the greater Light that could change our lives for the better. Tonight, I am grateful for those moments of darkness that reminded me of how much better my life could be if I opted for the True Light instead of the copycat stuff offered by Mr. Edison.

Christmas-More than a Day

December 25, 2015

All the preparation and anticipation, and just like that-it's over. The Church understood as sometimes we do not that Christmas is too big to try to squeeze into a single day. So the season of Advent is a four week long time of soul-searching and looking towards the coming of Christ. Strange to our minds, the focus is not on the birth of Christ, but on his second coming to redeem the world. The Scripture lessons for Advent tend to come from Isaiah and the Revelation of St. John as they look forward to that time when that which is wrong about this world is made right again.

Even that isn't enough. For we moderns, Advent has given way to a secular Christmas, that commercial build up that now starts in October or even September. It wasn't too long ago that we had to get through Thanksgiving before we started seeing Christmas programs and commercials on TV. But with all the build up to Christmas, it's suddenly here and gone. Again, the Church knew something we've forgotten, or perhaps never really understood in the first place. With all the commercial build up to Christmas, a strictly secular holiday isn't able to support the weight we assign to it. In the Christian calendar however, Christmas Day is the beginning of the Twelve Days of Christmas, culminating in Epiphany on January 6. Nearly two weeks is given to the celebration of the Light of Christ coming into the world. Christmas isn't ephemeral; it is given time to unfold, which gives us time to reflect on what it is really all about.

In our home, the wrappings have been torn off and cast aside, the gifts opened and acknowledged. We grazed all morning long from a table groaning beneath the weight of Linda's Mexican Bean Dip, egg and bread loaf, cheeses, sausages, candies and cookies, but by mid afternoon, the kids have all departed while we cleaned up and set up the new bed. At 6:00, Christmas for us becomes Abi's birthday, so over we go to her house for another round of celebration. Another American Christmas has come and gone, and it is now time for us to truly celebrate Christmastide by reflecting upon the Gift of Christ, how he came to this dark world in humility, and how he continues to invade our darkness by entering our lives with the light of the message that his Kingdom is at hand. All that sounds quite religiously trite, but the reality is that God hasn't yet dealt with this world in power and majesty. Instead, he is "longsuffering towards us, not willing that any should perish, but that all come to repentance." (2 Peter 3:9). It is that patience that gives us hope. He isn't done with us. Christmas was the beginning; the Light has come, and we have this season to remember, and to proclaim the Good News of salvation, deliverance, peace, joy, and hope. The Light has come, and the Darkness cannot overcome it! Merry Christmas!