Category: Bible Studies

Time To Be a Monkey Fist

Background Passages: Psalm 107:23-30; 2 Corinthians 8:8-9; 16-17

I don’t know if you caught the YouTube video recently of cruise ship passengers riding out a storm in the North Atlantic where 30-40 foot waves regularly crashed against the window of their cabin. It’s one of those unnerving images of pending disaster that haunts a lot of travelers whether they travel by sea or by air. I’ve never cruised in waters that rough, but, in almost every port, I remember the gratifying feeling of being docked securely in the harbor. It’s a feeling similar to when your plane lands safety at its destination. Being back on solid ground offers great comfort.

As we arrived in that safe harbor on our last cruise, I watched from the deck of the ship as the captain used his starboard thrusters to ease the vessel toward the pier. He stopped the thrusters, leaving the ship 30 feet from the dock. The crew scurried to moor the ship by sending hawsers—thick ropes three inches in diameter–across the void from the ship to the bollards on shore. I remember thinking how hard it would be to toss the heavy ropes that distance to the pier.

Instead, the crew attached a 60-foot, thin rope to a rope ball about six inches in diameter, tying the ball to the hawser. They swung the ball around on the end of the rope like David’s slingshot and sent it flying across the emptiness between the ship and pier, carrying the thin line behind it. The workers on the dock picked it up, pulled the rope across the water, eventually dragging the hawser with it. They tightened the hawser, drawing and securing the ship close enough to the pier for passengers to disembark. It was a slick operation that allowed us once again to step upon firm ground.

I’m told the thick ball at the end of the thin rope was called a “monkey fist.” In the maritime world, the monkey fist, which dates back to the early 17th century, is a specialized knot wrapped around a stone, an iron ball or other heavy weight to make it easier to toss the heavy hawser onto the dock.

It’s this monkey fist that stirred my thoughts today.

Over the past several weeks, several friends and family members have found themselves at sea, struggling in the midst of life’s storms, most of which are not of their making. These difficulties, like waves on the ocean, crash against our lives threatening to sink even the strongest among us into depression and despair.

The psalmist used the poetic language of ancient mariners to indicate the difficulties we sometimes face.

“They mounted up to the heavens and went down to the depths;
In their peril their courage melted away.
They reeled and staggered like drunkards;
They were at wits end.”

Yet, the psalmist knew that God provided a safe harbor for those who trust him and call upon his name.

“Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble,
And he brought them out of their distress.
He stilled the storm to a whisper;
The waves of the sea were hushed.
They were glad when it grew calm,
And he guided them to their desired harbor.”

There is good news for those of us who commit our lives to Christ and know how precious it is to have him as our safe harbor. When the storms of life batter us, we know we can tie ourselves securely to him, confident that once we wrap our hawser around his bollard, nothing will separate us from his safe keeping. We know within the trouble and distress, he can calm the storm to a hushed whisper.

I have been in that position. The difficulty comes when my strength fails. When my courage melts away. When I am at my wits end. I can’t draw close enough to the Father on my own to toss him my mooring line. My burden too heavy. The distance between me and the Father too great. The line itself much too short.

In times like that, I need someone to hurl the monkey fist. Someone to make it easier to drag my hawser to the dock and tie it off to the bollard, safe within the arms of God’s love, care and protection. Invariably, I find a pastor, a spouse, a friend, and at times, a stranger, willing to tie all things together through word or deed that allows me to reconnect with God in the way I need it most.

We will all need that connection from time to time. Paul knew what it meant to find comfort in Christ. He wrote in 2 Corinthians 8:8-9, 16-17:

“We are pressed on every side, yet not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed…Therefore, we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.”

When our batteries need recharging or when we need time out of the wind and wave to gather ourselves again for ministry and service, it’s comforting to know that we have a haven in Christ. I am grateful in my life for those who gripped and tossed the monkey fist on my behalf when the safe harbor seemed so far away.

This week many individuals will cross our path with lives torn apart by broken relationships, lost jobs, illness, injury and death. Those who struggle to make ends meet. Those with little hope for the future. Their seas are high and frightening.

We must look for opportunities to toss the monkey fist for those in need of the peace and comfort that only God can provide. May we be the ones that draw their storm-tossed vessel to the safety of the harbor and allow them to set their feet again on solid ground.

The Elephant in the Room

Background Passages: John 10:30-34; John 14:1-11

Given our difficulty as Christians in handling some of the social issues of the day, it seems we have a hard time understanding the true character and nature of God. We make attempts to classify him by putting God in a box of our own creation. We define him on our terms and, too often, in our image. If we need God to be anti-immigrant, we find a way to make him so. If we need God to take a stance on health care for the poor, we make it for him. If we need God to smite a specific nation, we find a way to justify the smiting.

It has been that way since the beginning. Mankind has always sought to define God. It’s why the ancients worshipped idols. Why they invented a god for every act of nature. Throughout history mankind has defined God within the limits of his understanding. God knew it would happen when he created us, knowing one day he would reveal himself to his creation in a special way.

I remember my third grade teacher, Ms. Wallace, reading a specific poem in class. It made me laugh. John Godfrey Saxe, a 19th century American satirist and poet, penned his poem The Blind Men and the Elephant in 1874, his take on an old Hindu story. Though entertaining, I did not find it particularly provocative until it was read again in my university philosophy class. The poem, as interpreted by a number of West Texas philosophers, became emblematic of the search for moral truth and necessity of religious tolerance.

I stumbled across the poem again this week in my study. Allow me to set aside the extended philosophical and theological debate with apologies to the original Hindu storyteller and to Saxe.

The poem, based on an old Hindu text, tells the story of six blind men who had never encountered an elephant. When given the chance to get up close and personal with the massive beast, they each touched a different part of the animal. One the elephant’s side. Another its tail. One its trunk. Another its ear. And, so on. When asked, then, to describe the elephant, each responded within his only frame of reference. Why, certainly, the elephant was like a wall…a rope…a snake…a fan…

Take a look at the last two stanzas.

And so these men of Indostan
Disputed loud and long,
Each in his own opinion
Exceeding stiff and strong,
Though each was partly in the right,
And all were in the wrong.

So, oft in theologic wars
The disputants, I ween,
Rail on in utter ignorance
Of what each other mean
And prate on about the Elephant
Not one of them has seen!

Work with me here and forgive the metaphor. God wants a relationship with us. He wants us to know him. We were unable to fully grasp his character and nature as long as God stayed in his heaven. So, he became the elephant in the room, introducing himself to the world through his son Jesus Christ. He sent his son into the world to walk among us, to reveal the nature and character to God to us in the words he spoke and the ministry he performed.

Still we struggled to understand. As Jesus prepared his disciples for his death on the cross and the inevitable time when they would carrying on his work without his physical presence among them, the disciples had a hard time putting Jesus and God together.

Jesus offered comfort amid their confusion. “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me.” He told them he would prepare a place for them in his father’s house and that they knew how to get there. Thomas, ever confused, confessed his lack of understanding. Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, the life…If you really know me, you will know my Father as well.” In the haze of uncertainty, Phillip asked Jesus to “show us the father. That will be enough.”

Jesus’ sad response to Phillip explains to us how we can begin to know the character and nature of God. “Phillip,” Jesus said, “don’t you know me, even after I have been among you for such a long time? Anyone who has seen me has seen the father…Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and he is in me or at least believe in the evidence of the works themselves.”

So if we have trouble understanding the character and nature of God, we need look no further than the life and ministry of Jesus Christ. Our understanding of him, grows the more we touch him. The more we experience him. So, like the blind men with the elephant, if we limit our experiences with Christ we will never know all we can about who he is…who God is.

You see, God is not passive and silent, forcing us to guess about his nature and what he expects of us. He tells us what he likes and what he expects. God, in Jesus Christ, gave us a standard by which to measure our actions and our thoughts.

We don’t have to grope in the darkness to understand God from a limited perspective. Our understanding comes through the direct revelation of God through Jesus Christ. No other religion makes a similar claim. Jesus declared it clearly and succinctly. “I and my Father are one.” He declared to his disciples, “If you have seen me, you have seen the Father.”

How much more would we learn of God if, unlike the blind men, we didn’t stop with that first touch? God calls us to look beyond the nail-scared hands, as important as that experience might be. Watch, listen, and learn from the one God sent into the world to show us how to live.

Through God’s Eyes

Background Passage: Ephesians 1:18-19

As the story goes, Cambridge University hosted a debate between a learned science professor, a self-declared atheist, and a Christian pastor. The professor offered his reasoning for asserting God “existed” only as a figment of human imagination. Grounded in rationale thought and scientific understanding, the professor offered that no rationale human being could look at the universe and believe in a Creator God, much less one active in the world.

The Christian pastor countered with a quick argument. Getting the professor to acknowledge that there is still much in the world that science and rationale thought cannot explain, the pastor suggested that it might be possible that God exists within that body of knowledge yet unknown. That someday man might discover through rationale thought and scientific understanding that God does indeed exist. The Christian pastor claimed victory when the scientist agreed to that possibility.

It makes a good story, I suppose, but a God that can be explained by some unknown data set, seems somehow less…Almighty or Sovereign. To prove God’s existence using some aspect of human understanding seems to me to thwart the purpose and power of faith.

Noted theologian C. S. Lewis, sadly no relation, offered a statement in his work entitled, Is Theology Poetry? that hit the nail on the head. He wrote, “I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen; not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.”

Lewis embraced faith over fact because his belief transformed the way he saw the world. Faith internalized and deeply held allows us to see the world around us, and the people within it, through God’s eyes. And that, I feel, is a significantly different world view that seen by those who live without a personal faith in Christ.

Given the chaotic and confused condition of life in the 21st century, we need our faith, our Christianity, our ability to see the world through the eyes of God, to make sense of things. How is a child of God to react when the world around us chooses to confront rather than console? To argue rather than understand? To divide rather than embrace? To hate rather than love?

If we see the world and all within it are, through the lens of the true faith, we accept that we carry an incredible responsibility to live as Christ lived. Instead of taking part in the divisive dialogue, we should encourage one, through our witness and walk, to console. To understand. To embrace. To love as Christ loved us.

The sun’s light illuminates all that we see. Because it does, we know it is real. The Son’s light reveals the world to us in its splendor and its ugliness. We can share its splendor, unleashing its beauty so it can shine in the face of ugliness. If we choose to live in him, we can see the world as he does—using the extraordinary vision with which he blessed us to bridge the distance between the Lord who loves and lost and lonely among us.

I have to admit the world I see today is a shadowy place, filled with uncertainty and chaos. Though I try to see through my Father’s eyes, I have a hard time wrapping my head around hatefulness. Lewis said it is his faith in Christ that opens his eyes. Paul took it a step further when he prayed for the believers in Ephesus.

“I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe.” Ephesians 1:18-19.

Without God’s corrective vision, I look at the world and feel…hopeless. Paul tells me it can be different if I let God adjust or enlighten the eyes of my heart. When I can see the world through his eyes, I find hope and purpose.

Scotty Smith, pastor of Christ Community Church in Franklin, TN, writes a blog for The Gospel Coalition. He summed it up better than I ever could in this prayer to God.

“…this text makes a ton of sense to me. Apart from the work of your Spirit and the corrective lens of the gospel, it will be impossible for me to see what you intend for me to see with awe-producing clarity. So, indeed, Lord, open the eyes of my heart. Heal my shortsightedness, my far sightedness and the astigmatism of my soul. I want to see all things from your perspective, including the hope to which you have called us. To see with the eyes of hope means that I will be able to discern your heart and hand at work everywhere.”

I particularly like that last sentence. When we see through the eyes of our Christian faith, the eyes of hope, we can see God at work in all things. We see with awe-producing clarity our place in his redemptive work. Understanding that, I no longer see this world as an ugly place. It is a field ripe for the harvest.

The Parable of the Vanilla Milk Shake

Background Passages: Proverbs 119:18, I Cor. 3:1-3, I Cor. 13:11, and 2 Tim. 3:16

Sometimes the most ironic humor comes from that which we observe or fail to observe around us. I find the best comedians to be those who extract humor from ordinary life events. Though not a part of the mainstream entertainment world, comedian Jeanne Robertson is a master at sharing life as it unfolds around her. She tells a story of stopping for a drink of water and talking herself into a vanilla milk shake. Listen to her describe her experience in the following video.

I chuckle at this story because I relate so completely at times with the clerk whose mind consistently overlooks the obvious. Because the circumstance doesn’t mesh with the preconceived possibilities staring at her from the cash register, she cannot find a way to address the customer’s request.

The story made me wonder how often I fail to see the truth revealed to me because of my preconceived notions of the truth as I know…and want…it to be. It is a trap easily tripped as we live in the social, emotional and political world around us. It’s also a snare that prevents us from freely grasping the truth of God’s teachings and its application in our lives.

Absent a bolt of lightning or burning bush, most of us uncover the will of God in our lives through a deeper and more meaningful understanding of his Word as revealed to us by the Holy Spirit. If that’s true, then this Parable of the Vanilla Milk Shake serves as an apt reminder of how we should approach our study of the Bible–with eyes wide open and searching to understanding that lies buried within the words printed in scripture.

Paul reminded the church in Corinth (I Cor. 3:1-3)that the evidence of their lives made him think of them still as spiritual infants, able only to drink milk rather than solid food he offered them. Despite their years in the faith, they had not grown to understand its full meaning and application of what it means to be a follower of Christ. Paul also reminded us (I Cor. 13:11)that if we’re still seeing things through the eyes of a child we are not growing in our understanding of the life God would have us lead.

Like the clerk in Robertson’s story, I lock myself onto that which I learned years ago, content that the “truth” I learned as a teenager remains permanently valid for my life today. That what I learned as a child and reasoned as a child, should not be put away. In truth, God teaches me new things almost every time I open myself to his Word. I can read a passage of scripture today that I’ve read and studied for years only to wake up in wide-eyed wonder at a new thought God’s spirit has revealed…to understand how that verse applies in my life–not yesterday, but today. Not then, but this moment in my life. Much like the clerk behind the counter, I read that familiar passage and the light in my heart and my eyes turns on. I find a new way to think about and apply what was right in front of me all the time.

I’ve read Psalms 119 several times over the years. I even taught this portion of the chapter in my Sunday School class a few weeks ago. Yet, this week as I scanned across it again, several new thoughts occurred to me.

There are wonderful things in the Bible just waiting for God to show them to us. I like to think I am a reasonably bright man, yet I am unable to comprehend the complexity of God’s word on my own without his inspiration. His truth must be revealed in our lives at a time and place of God’s choosing. They are words that enable us to get the most out of our relationships with God and others.

Paul once told Timothy, “All scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.” (2 Tim. 3:16) Those wonderful things in scripture change us in ways we can only imagine and empower us in ways we never dreamed to do the work God asks of us.

The passage teaches us that we are incapable of discovering all these wonderful things unless God first opens our eyes. Reading through his word without seeking the revelation of the spirit is like the blind man who after first experiencing Jesus’ healing touch saw a world in which men looked like trees walking around. We might, on our own, find a nugget of truth lying on the surface of scripture and see God’s word vaguely. We will never see his word with the kind of clarity that profoundly changes our hearts and our lives unless he opens our eyes to the possibilities.

Since we cannot explore the depths of God’s word on our own, we must pray that he shines light upon his word every time we turn the page. Helpless to see the beauty and wonder of God’s teachings through my myopic lens, I must ask him to “Open my eyes, Lord, and let me see the wonderful things in your law.”

I liked Jeanne Robertson’s description of the young clerk as she realized could not offer the family their desired chocolate milk shakes. With a gleam in her eyes, the young woman offered instead four vanilla shakes that, until that day, she never knew she had. It was a delightful revelation.

The Parable of the Vanilla Milk Shake teaches a wonderful lesson. The Christian walk evolves and grows as we allow God to teach us…the ultimate in life-long learning. Some of the best things in life have been there all the time. Our eyes just failed to see them. I am grateful to love a God who shows me what I need to know when I need to know it through the inspiration of his active and indwelling spirit. Open my eyes, Lord. There are so many more wonderful things to learn. It is a delightful revelation.

Don’t Look Back

Background Passages: Luke 9:57-62 and Philippians 3:12-14

The big day had finally come. To a young boy growing up in the 1960s on a cotton farm, each day brought a series of chores to be done. Most were routine and boring. Those I deemed “exciting,” like jumping on the tractor and plowing the field, were the privileges of age and responsibility. When deemed old enough and responsible enough, my Dad entrusted me with an old, yellow Case 400 tractor and a plow called the “lister.” We used the lister to prepare the fields for planting. By tilling the soil in this way, we cleared the field of weeds and old stalks and built the furrows and ridges, or “beds,” necessary for planting.

Hoeing the field, slopping the hogs, moving the irrigation pipe were mind-numbing work. Driving the tractor stood as a rite of passage…at least it was to this 12-year-old boy. Listing was one of the first “real jobs” my Dad assigned me as I was growing up. “Real” being defined as anything involving a tractor and plow. I remember burying my excitement in a cover of feigned indifference, but inside, I was pumped.

As I drove the tractor to my assigned field, Dad followed in his dusty Dodge pick-up. When we arrived, he jumped from the truck and showed me where he wanted me to begin. He explained the hydraulics and showed me how to drop the disk to mark the next row. Dad set the disk and drove the first few rows, straight as an arrow, with me riding along watching…a “do as I do” moment.

Listing was one of the first steps in the annual farming process. The planter followed the rows created by the lister. The cultivator followed the planter as the cotton grew to remove weeds and mix and incorporate the soil to ensure the growing crop had enough water and nutrients to grow well. So, if the rows created by the lister were not straight, it made the field difficult to work.

I should note that the rows my Dad plowed as my template looked as if they were drawn by a ruler. Straight as an arrow stretching a quarter mile across our West Texas farm. He had a knack for it.

The task appeared simple to me. Align the front wheel of the tractor with the line drawn by the disk and my rows would be as straight as Dad’s. As he climbed off the tractor and bounded toward his truck before leaving me alone to my work, he told me to concentrate on the line ahead of me and “don’t look back.”

Looking behind you as you plowed was the surest way of getting off line. I scoffed inwardly at Dad’s advice. How hard could it be to drive in a straight line?

It turns out that laying that perfect row requires concentration a 12-year-old boy finds difficult to maintain. I remember spending a great deal of time looking behind me, checking on my progress. Every wiggle I saw heightened my anxiety about the quality of work, compelling me to look time and time again where I had travelled.

The more I worried with it, the worse it looked. My quarter mile rows meandered through that red soil like a copperhead snake. Dad laughed when he saw it. I eventually learned the lesson he taught though I was never quite as good as he was.

God reminded me of that moment in my childhood as I read a passage in the Gospel of Luke. It seems Dad’s lesson about farming was as old as the Bible and applies just as neatly to life.

The crowd that followed Jesus generally included his closest disciples and others whose hearts were captured by Jesus message and ministry. They professed a faith in him and a desire to follow wherever he led them. As the 12 disciples discovered, the requirements of discipleship must be wholeheartedly embraced if we are to live to the fullest the life he wills for us.

One day as Jesus journeyed down the road followed by an interested crowd. A man came to Jesus pledging to follow him. Jesus needed him to think seriously about the commitment he was making. Jesus had “no home, no place to lay his head.” Following him meant a life of sacrifice and uncertainty. Jesus wanted more from the man than an ill-considered impulse decision that circumstance made hard to sustain. Count the cost, Jesus suggested, before you make a snap decision.

Jesus called out to a second man in whom he saw great promise. “Follow me.” Though willing, the man felt torn by the needs of his family and the responsibilities of discipleship. Jesus told him to get his priorities straight. God’s call required complete devotion to God.

The third man provoked a harsher response from Jesus. The man promised to follow Jesus but asked for time to say goodbye to those he loved, his heart divided between his desire to do as God asked and his love for his family and friends. He said, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.”

The Greek words translated for “looks back” paint a picture of one constantly and continuously looking back at what he left behind. A picture of someone reluctant to let go of the things of the world rather than to fully commit life to God. The more we look back, the more likely we are to walk a wavering line of faith life that constantly strays from the path God intends for us.

The lesson for those of us who follow Christ emerges clearly in the conversation Jesus had with the three would-be followers. We must give ourselves completely to the call of Christ by counting and embracing the cost of discipleship and making God’s work the most important thing in our life. Following Christ has never been easy, but doing so in a fractured world that demeans and diminishes faith grows even more difficult. It is made harder when important things of life pull and tug at us from every direction. We must follow Christ despite the hardships, heavy hearts and home ties that block us from giving ourselves completely to him.

God calls us to put our hands on the plow and get on with the work of faith, creating a straight row that makes it easier for him to accomplish his future work. Human nature and the subtle work of a tempter compel us to look back upon the mistakes we’ve made, those sins in our lives that seek to convince us that God cannot possibly use such a flawed vessel?

Certainly, it may be good to glance behind us on occasion, to revisit our mistakes, as a reminder of how easy it is to fail God. Yet, to dwell in the misery of our past failures inhibits our ability to be useful in service ministry, makes us feel unworthy of the purpose to which we have been called.

Just as troubling are those times when we think wistfully of the “good ol’ days” when life and faith were easier. Today is the time we have been given. Looking back and wishing the world were different prohibits us from seeing in front of us the God-directed opportunities that allow us to demonstrated his love for a world that can no longer plow a straight row.

Don’t look back, Christ says. Give yourself wholly to your call and count the cost. Christ cannot accept our conditional or half-hearted service. Nor can we spend more time looking back at our past, reveling in a simpler time or lamenting our failures. He asks us instead to look forward; to press on. To open ourselves to the possibilities of service and ministry.

Paul captured the same message in his letter to the Philippian church as he declared that he could not fully grasp all that God called him to be. “Brothers, I do not consider myself to have embraced it yet. But this one thing I do: Forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on…”

*

Experience is a great teacher. I eventually learned to rely upon that handy, pivoting disk on the plow that I raised and lowered as I traversed the field. If I kept my eyes fixed on the line as it ran into the distance, put my tractor wheel in its furrow and followed it to the end, my rows rarely wavered.

For those committed to Christ, Jesus drew the line in the sand with his life as the perfect example to follow. Most of us recognize that our line drifts away from the line Jesus walked. Our mistakes compound when we spend too much time looking behind us. Let’s keep our eyes focused constantly on him and the path of righteousness he walked as an example to all of us.

I promise, it will make the rest of life that much easier to plow.

Singing in the Darkness

Background: Acts 16:16-40

My wife mocks my love of “coffeehouse music,” the unplugged renditions of familiar songs sung by the original artists or my relatively unknown singers offering a cover of the original version. I enjoy the softer chords without the amplified noise. Truthfully, I don’t listen to a lot of music until I get in my car. Once I turn the key, however, my car becomes my private and personal recording studio. That being said, my imagined talent undoubtedly sounds as little more than “joyful noise.”

Music speaks to me in ways that other human speech does not. There is something personal in the lyrics and the tune that reaches into the core of human emotion…especially it seems when life is darkest.

I am a fan of J. R. R. Tolkien. I read his books The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings Trilogy more times than I can remember and watched the movie adaptations countless times. Tolkien, a professor at Oxford was a devoted Christian and, together with his friend C. S. Lewis, looked for ways to share their faith through the lives of those they created in their rich and descriptive fantasy worlds. One doesn’t need to look too deeply to recognize the thread of Godly truth weaving through their stories.

Kurt Bruner and Jim Ware, authors of Finding God in the Lord of the Rings, speak to the way Tolkien sprinkled his story with song. Some light. Some airy. Some raucous. Some mournful. Some sung in more desperate times.

At one point in the story Frodo lay bitten by Shelob, a huge, carnivorous spider. Sam rescues Frodo, but sees a lifeless body. As the orcs drag Frodo’s body away, Sam overhears that his friend and companion is in a deep coma. Sam follows, trying to gather his courage to free Frodo from the prison tower. As his resolve ebbs away in the gloom of the stairwell, Sam begins to whisper a song. The song fills him with courage and he rises up, singing all the louder to confront and dispatch his enemies. It was a pivotal moment in the film.

The words reflect strongly a believer’s trust in a higher presence that sustains within and beyond the present circumstances.

Though here at journey’s end I lie
In darkness buried deep,
Beyond all towers strong and high,
Beyond all mountains steep.
Above all shadows rides the Sun
And stars forever dwell.
I will not say the day is done,
Nor bid the stars farewell.

History suggests that music is a language of emotion in every culture of every age. It affects us in profound and subtle ways. In our culture, a lively song written in a major key fills us with happiness. A slow song written in a minor key can evoke sadness. Music serves as a catalyst for our worship, expressing our deepest feelings for the Father in heaven. Reminds us of the strength of our gratitude for the salvation he provided. Soothes our troubled spirit just David’s harp calmed Saul’s anxious heart. Sustains us during difficult times as songs of praise and worship encouraged Paul and Silas in a Philippian dungeon.

As the biblical story unfolds in Acts, Paul and Silas found themselves in a difficult and dangerous situation. It had been a brutal day. It started well as God worked through them to heal a disturbed and demonized slave girl. Her owner stirred up a riot against the two missionaries for taking away his means of income. The crowd rose against them, beating them with sticks, until the authorities arrived and tossed them unceremoniously into jail.

Unable to nurse their wounds, the two men rested their heads against the coolness of the stone, hands and feet bound and chained, bodies bruised and bleeding. In the darkest moment of night, instead of crying out to their jailers for mercy, Paul and Silas sang.

While they sang their song, the earth shook. Their chains broke free and their frightened jailer let them go. Scripture doesn’t tell us what songs they sang, but I suspect the lyrics could have resembled the words of Sam’s song or the words of this old Quaker hymn, shared by Bruner and Ware, which celebrates a believer’s faith in God’s sheltering hand.

What though the tempest round me roars?
I know the Truth, it liveth;
What though the darkness round me blows?
Songs in the night it giveth.
No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that Rock I’m clinging.
Since Love is Lord of heaven and earth,
How can I keep from singing?

To friends and strangers who have lost loved ones in recent days and those living through difficult times, Bruner and Ware said it well. Because of the God who loves us and gives our weary hearts comfort, we live assured of this one thing…

“It is never so dark we cannot sing.”

New Morning, New Mercies

Background Passage: Lamentations 3:1-25

You’ve seen them in magazines at the grocery store checkout line. Heard them listed in television newscasts. It’s that time when we look back upon the preceding 12 months and remember the major news events of the year. Depending on the organization creating the list, you’ll find celebrity marriages and deaths, natural disasters and human tragedies highlighting the lists.

The Associated Press ranked the following among its top 10 world news events this year:

• U.S. Election
• Brexit
• Black Lives Matter
• Worldwide Terror Events
• Attacks on Police
• Democratic Party Email Leaks
• Syrian Civil War
• Supreme Court Vacancy
• Hillary Clinton’s Emails

The thread of turmoil runs within all of these news stories. It’s difficult to determine whether the upheaval these events caused will eventually bring about something good. So, we look with promise of a new year to settle things down again, hoping that any negative consequences of these events do not touch us or our families.

But what about your personal year in review? If you had to list the top news events in your life for 2016, what would they be? Here’s my list (in chronological order).

• Our 40th wedding anniversary
• Retirement from full-time work
• An uncle’s stroke
• A cruise with friends in the Baltic
• Signing with a new book publisher
• Teaching part-time at the university
• Father diagnosed with cancer
• Death of several friends
• Birth of Amelia, our 2nd granddaughter
• Mother-in-law’s stroke

When I thought about this list, the first events I recalled were the bad news events…the diagnoses and the deaths. That’s human nature I suppose. It’s comforting to know that our days are filled with moments of joy amid the personal turmoil created by some life events. Yet, in those times when trouble falls like rain from a thunderstorm, life feels oppressive and overwhelming.

The writer of Lamentations in the Old Testament probably felt much the same way. The crushing nature of life events left him mourning for the nation of Israel and crying out on behalf of the people who faced the consequences of their own rebellion against God. He counted himself among them. Chapter 3 reads like a “Top 10” list of the devastating physical and emotional conditions in which the writer found himself…

• “…I am a man of affliction…”
• “…driven me away…”
• “…besieged and surrounded me with bitterness and hardship…”
• “…dwell in darkness…”
• “…weighed me down in chains…”
• “…made me a target…”
• “…pierced my heart…”
• “…became the laughingstock…”
• “…deprived of peace…”
• “…mocked me in song…”

Yet, the writer of Lamentations refused to abide in the circumstances. Refused to let life events control his spiritual condition. The crux of his faith centers on a confession he makes in Lamentations 3:21-23.

“Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope. Because of the Lord’s great love, we are not consumed for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to him, ‘The Lord is my portion. Therefore, I will wait for him.”

As we must deal at times with events of life that suck the breath from our lungs and threatened to stop our hearts from beating, we must understand what this writer knows. Though the issues bubble never far from our thoughts, we still have hope. How is this possible?

God loves us. Pure and simply. His compassion and mercy flows always in abundance and prevents us from being eaten up or overwhelmed by that which we face. He proved it so in the past and continues to this day. His love never fails. Never.

Here’s the part that I really like. His mercies, his compassions, come new every morning. Fresh. Sustaining. We don’t have to rely on grace remembered that came once and never comes again. The dawn of each new day brings with it God’s abiding and unfailing love. Each day. Every day. God’s faithfulness is sufficient for our needs. So, as the writer declares, “I will wait for him” to carry me through the day…I will rest my hope in him.

Our ability to wait for him is built upon our history with God. Our knowledge of God and who he is strengthens our faith in difficult and uncertain times. For when we know what kind of God it is we trust…one whose mercies arise new each morning…we can remove the baffling and troubling aspects of life from our shoulders and place them instead in his hands.

This is my challenge to you. Reflect upon your year and remember that God’s love never fails. His compassions arise new every morning. Despite the difficulties you’ve experienced and those that are sure to come in 2017, let God be your portion. Wait for him.

May you enjoy a blessed new year.

Slowing Things Down

Background Passage: Psalm 46:10

There never seems to be enough hours in the day to do all that needs to be done. It is a common lament, particularly in our culture and society. Sadly, we are often our own worst enemy when it comes to making the most of our time each day. We pile one responsibility onto another until we feel as though we are in a frenetic footrace to the sundown.

Nothing we do gets done without the pressure of the next thing that must be done. We seldom have time to slow down to assess what we are doing and why we are doing it. The pervasive god of technology drives us at a frantic pace beyond our escape or control, fueled by our addiction to wave upon wave of contradictory information. The flood of information makes it difficult to discern fact from opinion.

Even when we want to get away, to take back some of the time we have surrendered, we cannot fully disconnect from the world we left behind. Cellphones, internet, global connectivity, make it far too easy for the world to inject itself again into our seclusion.

Pressed from all sides and pounded daily by those trying to tell us how to feel, we lose the opportunity to think clearly and critically about the direction of our lives. The complexity of our activities, relationships and commitments result in knee-jerk reactions to difficult circumstances. Writer Arthur Rosenfeld said we are living a life “high in stress and light on substance,” devoid of spiritual meaning.

The Psalmist faced his own battles with time and circumstance. When the obstacle he faced loomed on the horizon, he reminded himself that there is value in slowing down enough to listen to the voice of God, to hear his words of comfort and feel his sense of peace.

“Be still and know that I am God. “

The words came not as a suggestion, but an imperative. If you want the peace God offers, be still. Amid the chaos and confusion, be still. Amid the tumult and turmoil, be still.

Stop fighting. Let go. Surrender to the possibilities of what God has in store for us. The pace of life that tends to overwhelm us is often self-inflicted noise that overpowers God’s still, small voice of guidance and direction. We fight to control our lives, for some ability to manipulate the world swirling around us. Like being mired in quicksand, our struggle only makes it worse. Be still. Silence the chatter in our souls. Clear our hearts of every distraction. Sit still for once and listen. Really listen.

Know that He is God. The omniscient. The omnipotent. The omnipresent. God knows about everything. Extends his power over everything. Dwells with us in everything. God is…Holy. Sovereign. Faithful. Lord. He knows where we’ve been, where we’re going and what we are trying to do. He knows when we are lost. He understands our fear. He lives with us in the middle of the struggle and will not abandon us along the way.

The psalmist reminds us to surrender our will to God’s will because we can trust who he is and what he is capable of doing in our lives. Knowing he is God allows us to make sense of the clutter and slow the frenzied pace of life that threatens to engulf us.

There never seems to be enough time to do all that needs to be done. I spoke those words myself this week. This I know. If we allow it to do so, modern life will move faster than the speed of thoughtfulness, sweeping us downstream with it. The words of the Father fell upon listening ears today.

“Be still and know that I am God.”

Now, I just have to do it.

In Search of Contentment

Background Passage: Philippians 4:4-13

We live in a world of simmering discontent fueled by politicians and talk show hosts and fanned by the extremist opinions expressed in an all-too pervasive social media. Many among us look at our life circumstances… longing for a past veiled in a mist of greatness that never was as great as we remember. Angry about a present that seems stuck in a downward spiral. Jaded about a future we anticipate with overwhelming pessimism.

We pursue what we think will bring happiness only to discover emptiness. We buy more things…incur more debt…only to suffering the anxiety of paying for it all. We move from place to place…seeking a better house, better neighborhood, better schools…rarely staying in one place long enough to develop cherished friendships. When we let circumstances define us, when life unfolds as a series of unfulfilled dreams based on unrealistic expectations, contentment remains elusive.

Such a world view is distinctly anti-Christian. That’s not to say there aren’t some real problems we must address. It is saying, however, that as Christians, our world view needs to reflect a different attitude.
Contentment, as the world defines it, finds its root in a Greek word meaning “self-sufficient” or “independence.” It is derived from an ancient Stoic philosophy that calls one to detach oneself from ones emotions, to become indifferent to the ups and downs of life.

Contentment is not complacency. We should work to better ourselves and our circumstances as God grants us the opportunity to do so. God praises hard work that is not driven by greed and selfishness. We can prepare ourselves through education and training and work to better our circumstances as long as we are submissive to God’s will. Contentment is not settling for less. It is submitting your circumstances to God and trusting in his sufficiency.

*

The preacher languished in a foreign prison on trumped up charges. Punished and persecuted for sharing his faith that ran counter to the government-sanctioned philosophy and religion. Far from home. Isolated from most of his friends. Facing an almost certain death sentence.

The missionary could have shaken his fist at God, angry at the situation in which he found himself, wallowing in discontent and feeling abandoned by God and friends. Yet, the preacher continued to share the gospel of Christ to the prison guards, fellow prisoners and those he could reach by letter. In the darkness of his imprisonment, he received an unexpected gift from church friends trying to relieve the burden of his circumstances.

While he certainly appreciated the support during a difficult time, the Apostle Paul used the gift as an opportunity to teach the church at Philippi about his victory over discontent.

*

Paul took the definition of contentment in a different direction. For the apostle, contentment was the peace one finds when living within the will and strength of God. He said, “I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well-fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.”

Reading the letter today you can imagine the people holding their breath waiting for Paul to reveal the answer. The secret of contentment, Paul said, is knowing…“that I can do all things through him that gives me strength.”

That seems to me to be the key. Our ability to do anything, to overcome everything life throws our way, is predicated on our understanding that God is sufficient in all things; that within his strength, all things are possible. Contentment is that inner sense of peace that stems from our personal relationship with the Father and dependent upon our willingness to embrace his lordship. To yield control of our lives to him.

Easy words to write, but difficult to do…unless we live a focused and purposeful life. Look at Philippians 4:8-9.

“Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me—put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.”

It’s a simple formula and I’m content with that.

Do Not Lose Heart

Background Passage: Hebrews 12:1-3

Has there ever been a time in history when the world watched as closely the actions and reactions of Christians to world events? Certainly, the new, polarized media and the prevalence of social media contribute to the intense scrutiny of the verbal and living testimony shared with those we encounter. The intolerance directed at Christians who stand for their faith is counterbalanced at times with our own intolerant and unloving attacks on those who oppose our views.

The mistakes we make in our relationship with the world casts a dark shadow over those who attempt to live right and well. Like Sisyphus continually pushing the boulder up the hill only to lose his grip and let it roll back to the valley, one trying to build a bridge to those in need of Christ’s love, can easily grow so tired of the effort that giving up feels like a sensible option. In a world that fails to listen to the call of God, it is easy to grow discouraged.

The writer of Hebrews speaks a word for the weary that theologian William Barclay called “one of the great, moving passages of the New Testament.” The unknown author of Hebrews calls upon us to remember the heroes of our faith, to recall the difficult circumstances they encountered and the faith that sustained them. So the first clear message of this passage is that we are surrounded by those men and women who stood firm in faith despite setbacks and hardship. This “cloud of witnesses” ought to inspire us with their life testimony to persevere in our own effort to live as Christ commands.

With the memory of those bastions of faith behind us, we are urged to toss away every hindrance to running the race along the “course that is marked out before us.” The will of God for our lives. The path he desires us to walk. We are neither an unconcerned bystander, nor spectator, nor tourist along for the ride. We are called to run the race that God set out for us to run…regardless of where it takes us, how long or rugged the path. God has set the goal before us. Our task is to rid ourselves of the beastly burdens and bad attitudes that make the race feel impossible. To run with dogged dedication the gauntlet of a life lived for Christ.

The task is easier said than done when it feels as though the whole world is rooting against us. We feel the sting of ridicule from an unbelieving world each time we fail to live up to God’s standards, making it more difficult to accept his forgiveness and start anew. We feel the pressure of other believers who wrap themselves so tightly in the cloak of politics that faith becomes a social movement rather than a matter of the heart.

How then does the writer of Hebrews suggest we stay steadfast on the course God laid out before us? Simply this: “Fix your eyes upon Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith.” In a moment of personal insanity many years ago, I once ran a half-marathon. I am not physically built to run a half-marathon. With no hope of winning, all I wanted to do is finish sometime before supper. In the last quarter of the race, my breath grew labored. My legs tired. My head telling me to stop the madness. Instead, I ran five miles staring at a runner about 100 yards in front of me. I told myself “If I lose sight of him, I’ll quit.“ Keeping my eyes focused on that man and with the help and encouragement of a friend over the last mile, I managed to finish what I started. We invariably quit the course laid out for us when we lose sight of Jesus. This we cannot do.

Hebrews tells us to think of all that Christ endured…the difficult journey, the constant opposition, the unhearing hearts, the agony of the cross…for despite the suffering, he endured it all because he could anticipate the joy that his gift of salvation would bring to the world. What God started in our lives, intending it all for good, must not be cast aside when the going gets tough. Think instead of the joy we will know when the task is done.

It is a strange world in which we find ourselves today, filled with frustration and heart break. You may feel, as I do at times, that you are not making a difference…that for every one step forward, the world pushes you two steps back. Know that it is not so. Acts of faith never return unrewarded.

At the end of the day, we must fix our eyes on Jesus and consider his enduring faith so that we “will not grow weary and lose heart.” Barclay called it one of the great, moving passages of the New Testament. I call it a message I needed to hear.