An Ordinary Day

 April 4, 2023

The storm that downed trees and took out power for many in our area did little more than deposit a few dead branches in our yard. A half hour’s work, and it was pretty much cleared up. One of my bee colonies that seemed to be doing well enough over the winter was a dead-out when I checked it today, courtesy of a local mouse who thought my hive was a perfect place to build her nest. The weather being quite cooperative today, we loaded up the old Harley parts preparatory to taking them to, of all places, Resurrection Cycle Works in VA. Linda and I enjoyed coffee and supper on the patio, hopefully the first of many such times this year. 

All of this to say spring is in the air, which means summer work is just around the corner. Inflation means the annual servicing of our tractor is going to cost a very pretty penny this year, but we are blessed to be able to afford it, even if we don’t like paying it. I like paying someone who knows what they’re doing more than I like doing the job myself.

A few other tasks filled up the day, culminating in worship team rehearsal and Men’s Bible study tonight. 

Why mention all this ordinary stuff? Because this week, like so many others, will look ordinary to the outsider looking in, but it is extraordinary from the inside looking out. I know less about how this week will end than I know about how that last ordinary week in Jesus’ earthly life ended. Other than the parade of Palm Sunday, Jesus’ last week on earth was pretty ordinary—preaching to the crowds, irritating and agitating the religious elite, but it turned extraordinary on Friday. Our own lives can turn on a heartbeat, as we discovered last year about this time when son Nate got sick.

Extraordinary and ordinary have been jumbled together this past year in ways we never imagined as the year began. That’s just the way life happens. We’ve been reminded to look for the extraordinary in the midst of the ordinary because God meets us in the intersection between the two. 

So I have enjoyed today, an ordinary day infused with extraordinary potential, if only I have eyes to see. I am looking intently, expectantly. God is on the move!

Fickle

 April 2, 2023

Today is Palm Sunday, commemorating the day Jesus rode into Jerusalem as the crowds cried, “Hosanna!” (God save), “Blessed is he who comes in the Name of the Lord!” They were shouting the ancient hope of a Redeemer who would set them free from all oppression, a hope that has existed in the hearts of people for thousands of years. 

But less than a week later, the crowds were shouting a different demand. “Crucify him!” How is it possible to go from joyful acclamation to angry condemnation in such a short time? This isn’t a rhetorical question; Scripture wasn’t given to satisfy our intellectual curiosity or to answer psychological inquiries. It is critical that we know the answer to this question, lest we fall into the same trap. Many who have claimed the name of Christ have fallen by the wayside, sad, empty shells of the faith they once professed. If you were to ask them how it is that they have abandoned the faith they once proclaimed, most would tell you that Jesus disappointed them, didn’t measure up to their expectations, failed to answer their prayers.

I suspect the real reason is a bit deeper than that. When in his gospel Matthew tells the story of the Triumphal Entry on that long-ago Palm Sunday, he makes note of a particular question that was on the mind of the people, and of the answer the cheering crowds gave.

“And when He had come into Jerusalem, all the city was moved, saying, “Who is this?” So the multitudes said, “This is Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth of Galilee.””

—Matthew 21:10-11 

The question is legitimate, the answer insufficient. Prophets are praised one day, vilified the next. It’s human nature and the nature of the business. If Jesus is merely a prophet, he can be followed, ignored, or persecuted. If he is who he claimed to be—Lord and Savior, it’s a whole different story. 

A lot of people come to Jesus, expecting him to straighten out the mess they made of their lives. We expect Jesus to make us happy. We pray, expecting God to do what we ask. We would never say it aloud, but we act as if we were God, calling the shots, and he were the servant, waiting to do our bidding. We have it backward. God is Lord and Savior; we are here to do his bidding, to give honor to him by how we live our lives. If we recognize Jesus for who he really is, it becomes difficult to walk away when things don’t go our way. If Jesus is Lord, omniscient and loving, I won’t quit when I don’t understand what happens in life. If he is only prophet, I can find another more suited to my own plans.

When Jesus asked Peter, “Who do you say I am,” it was the most important question anyone could hear. It still is. Prophet won’t carry me through tough times. Lord and Savior will.

Merciful Justice

 April 1, 2023

“Now the birth of Jesus Christ was as follows: After His mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph, before they came together, she was found with child of the Holy Spirit. Then Joseph her husband, being a just man, and not wanting to make her a public example, was minded to put her away secretly.” —Matthew 1:18-19 

Matthew’s account of the birth of Jesus has an intriguing phrase: “Joseph…being a just man, and not wanting to make her a public example, was minded to put her away secretly.” What intrigues me is the juxtaposition of justice and kindness, something we don’t see everyday. We usually think of justice as adherence to the letter of the law, but here it is demonstrated by mercy. 

Joseph’s tender kindness towards Mary is a precursor to Jesus’ life story. The narrative continues:

“But while he thought about these things, behold, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream, saying, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take to you Mary your wife, for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit. And she will bring forth a Son, and you shall call His name Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins.””

—Matthew 1:20-21 

 

Merciful justice has salvation as its goal. Exactly how this will be accomplished, Matthew doesn’t yet tell us, but he makes it clear that what we need is salvation, not reformation or education; and this salvation we will soon learn comes only through Jesus’ death on the cross for our sins. Mercy and judgment kissed at the cross as Jesus paid a terrible price for our salvation. 

Holy Week begins tomorrow. Matthew doesn’t give us the details here, but from the very beginning, the cross (and the resurrection) is in view.

Patience

 March 31, 202

We live in interesting times. A former president is indicted by a grand jury, the Left is ecstatic, the Right sees a witch-hunt, and both sides are battling each other for their own advancement, power, influence, money, and glory. Meanwhile, the nation suffers. The Biblical prophecy has come true:

“I will give children to be their princes, 

And babes shall rule over them. 

The people will be oppressed, 

Every one by another and every one by his neighbor; 

The child will be insolent toward the elder, 

And the base toward the honorable.”

—Isaiah 3:4-5 

It’s nothing new. These words were spoken of Israel some 2700 years ago. The more things change, the more they stay the same. The NT letter of James tells a similar story. Ordinary people in the church were impressed with the finery of the rich, catering to and honoring them while ignoring and humiliating the poor in their midst. James spares no invective as he exposes the powerful for who they really are; the very ones who haul the poor into court, cheat their laborers, hold their thumb on the scales of the law. 

What is surprising is that he doesn’t call for the victims asserting their rights, rising up in righteous indignation, taking their oppressors to court. I grew up believing in a system that I expected to be fair and unbiased. My black brothers and sisters have often had a very different experience, one that the rest of us may be seeing soon, as the legal system is increasingly biased and at times even predatory.

James’ response to this oppression is simple: “Be patient.” Simple doesn’t mean easy. Patience in the midst of injustice requires self-control, and a rock-solid belief that God is still in control. James is clear however, that this patience is not borne of weakness. Sometimes people are patient because they have no options. Not here. Listen to the rest of his statement in chapter 5, verse 7: 

“Therefore be patient, brethren, until the coming of the Lord.” 

That latter phrase is important. Patience without hope and faith in an omniscient, almighty, and loving God is merely acquiescence to a fate one cannot control. Patience in suffering only makes sense if God will indeed someday make all things right. And in this life, patience is only possible when I fix my gaze upon Jesus Christ, sitting in power and glory at the right hand of the Father, instead of on all the shenanigans of the rich and powerful of this world. That gaze is utterly critical. If I turn away even for a moment, all I see is the mess of this world, and I begin to spiral into despair. But I can be patient when I see Jesus and know that the day is coming when he will return and set things right.

Far Beyond Me

 March 29, 2023

My morning prayer time with my friends Jeff and Rich always begins with a Psalm; today’s was 131. I should read this about every other day, as it has a message I need to hear regularly.

“LORD, my heart is not proud, 

Nor mine eyes lofty: 

Neither do I exercise myself in great matters, 

Or in things too high for me. 

Surely I have behaved and quieted myself, 

As a child that is weaned of his mother: 

My soul is even as a weaned child. 

Let Israel hope in the LORD 

From henceforth and for ever.”

—Psalm 131:1-3 

The news these days are increasingly bleak. Six people shot by a trans woman at a Christian school, and the mainstream media blames the victims and exonerates the murderer while our president jokes about ice cream. I’d bet the moniker of “hate crime” won’t even be whispered.

As society plunges further into demonic delusion and degradation, our only hope is the hope offered by this psalm: “Let Israel (and all others who believe) trust in the LORD from henceforth and forever.” And while we are trusting in him, I remind myself not to concern myself with things far beyond me, but to quiet myself in God as a small child is quieted in his mother’s presence.

Entwined

 March 28, 2023

My gratitude calendar this morning read, “Three gifts entwined,” a rather intriguing thought. 

The very first entwined gift that came to mind was the love between Linda and myself. Our lives have been entwined for 53 years. Not only the major cords of faith, faithfulness, and bodies, but also the ensuing strands of children, grandchildren, of sacrifices and prayers, countless hours, gifts, sickness, joys, tears, and forgiveness. The threads of our lives are so interwoven that only death will be able to separate them. Ours is more than a threefold cord that cannot be broken; it is thousands of strands that bind us securely to each other.

I thought also of my grapevines, how the tendrils curl around anything that may offer the slightest bit of support. In Cassadaga, they flourished, but the few miles that separate us from that community apparently are enough to stunt their growth. Four years, and my vines are thin and spindly, far from being productive, illustrating that no matter how deeply intertwined, without roots that burrow deep into good soil, neither the plant nor the person can thrive. There have been times in our past when either one of us could have given up and called it quits, with ample justification, but we both were rooted and grounded in Christ, who nourished and strengthened us so we could flourish and be fruitful.

Of course, Jesus Christ is the original Vine of which we are the branches. His encircling me with grace, forgiveness, and life is what grabbed ahold and keeps hold of this wayward heart. 

King Moretone

 March 27, 2023

My beloved bass is broken. Having taken it to the Footsteps youth weekend, on Saturday evening I was carrying it from the dining hall to the chapel when I stumbled. We both went down; I got right up with only a slight bruising to my ego and as I later discovered, to my ribs. My bass didn’t fare so well, the scroll snapped completely off.

After asking about me, people told me how sorry they were about my bass. Well, I am sorry, too. It was a pristine 1938 King Moretone, the second year of production. It has a great booming sound, and to think that I damaged it is a bit disconcerting. It’s not however, the end of the world. My stock reply has been, “It’s just stuff.” It can either be repaired, or I can buy another instrument.

A month or two ago, I probably wouldn’t have had this attitude, but from our small group learning experience on how to hear from God, I’ve learned to hold onto things loosely. It began with God’s word to me about that hunting rifle, the Mini-14 that I had had my eye on. When I read about laying aside the weights that hold us back, I asked God what weight he had in mind. “Mini-14” was all that came to mind. “Anything else, Lord,’ I asked hopefully, but try as I might, nothing else came to mind. The next day he took it further, telling me that even if someone should tell me it’s really OK to have this rifle (technically, that’s true), because God said no, I had better leave it at that. 

It’s pretty small stuff really. It’s not as if God is telling me to live in austerity, but he seems quite interested in breaking any hold that material things have on me. I have to say, I really loved that bass! I was even quite proud of it in a way. But now it’s broken, and surprisingly to me, it doesn’t matter. God hasn’t said I can’t have a bass; in fact, I have a backup instrument. He does seem intent on stripping away any pride I had in it.

It’s really quite freeing to be able to say it’s only stuff. Already I can sense the difference in me when it comes to the things I own. I am glad to have the things I have, but I’m learning to hold them loosely so I can be free to obey the Lord in any matter he chooses. The Bible tells us not to love the world or the things in it. I’m getting there, and it feels good.