Wonderfully Made…For a Purpose

Background Passage: Psalm 139

The brightest minds in Greek and Roman worlds for centuries before and after the time of Christ believed human wisdom, emotion, memory and thought centered in the heart, not the brain. Ancient ideas of physiology and psychology told them that God spoke through the heart; that within the heart lived the essence of man’s soul. They believed the brain was an internal radiator that simply cooled the blood as it circulated through the body.

Influenced by these cultures, the ancient Hebrews understood that the core of who and what they were was centered in the heart. In other words, like the ancient Greeks, they believed the heart was the focus of all rational thought and emotion. So unimportant was the brain in Hebrew thinking that the word is never recorded in scripture…not once.

Scientifically, we know the ancients were wrong. We continue to learn more about the brain as the depth of scientific research grows into the complex role it plays in our how we think, feel and learn. Though we know better, we still speak of “feeling” and “thinking” with our hearts, a metaphorical echo of scientific error relegated to the pages of history.

The human brain functions as one of God’s most marvelous creations, yet only in the past 150 years have scientists and physicians made serious efforts to understand how it works. In 1861, French physician Pierre Paul Broca discovered that small region of the left frontal lobe of the brain controls our ability to speak. In subsequent studies since that time, scientists have identified 83 specific areas of the brain that activate when we recognize a face, read a book, think about a specific memory or do certain types of physical work.

Neuroscientists at the University of Washington recently published a new map of the brain, revealing more than 97 previously unknown regions of the brain to add to the 83 areas already familiar to today’s scientists.

A Stanford University study recently used a new imaging technique called array tomography to look more closely at the brain’s neurons and synapses. The data collected produced a three-dimensional picture of these tiny cell connections. The images indicate that the number of synapses in the brain exceed the number of estimated stars in 1,500 Milky Way galaxies combined, making the brain far more complex that previously understood.

These new discoveries caused a few of my own synapses to make a few new connections. I thought of Psalms 139. The Psalmist, in his praise of God, wrote beautiful lyrics about his creative work.

“For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
Your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.”

We are God’s creation. Whether we developed through an evolutionary process or appeared in a molding of clay and bone is really immaterial to me. Neither view changes my understanding of God as Creator. To focus on that debate misses the point of my personal relationship to him. That he gave me this marvelous brain that thinks, acts, reasons, chooses, understands and loves is an amazing gift that governs my relationships to my God and to others. That he gave me the ability to grasp the concept of faith in him is grace in full measure.

That thought led to another. My son and his wife, Melissa, are expecting their second child in December. They have named her Amelia Diane. We saw another ultrasound of her yesterday. Even now as her body is developing inside the womb, God knows her and all she will become. The Psalmist explored that idea, also.

“Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.”

I think of these things not to get into a debate on abortion and the definition of when life starts. Rather, I stand amazed that God already knows my granddaughter. That a God-ordained, perfect plan already exists for her life. That the only things standing in the way of that life are the choices she makes and the positive influence brought to bear through the unconditional love of her Christian parents and all of those who enter her life.

Her intricate and incomparable brain will be imprinted with her God-given uniqueness etched throughout its gray matter. The life he plans for her will unfold as it is imparted by her parents, instructed by gifted teachers at church and at school, and inspired by the love of family and friends that desire only the best for her.

One final thought occurred to me as I read again this familiar scripture. Intellectually, I know our brains, not our hearts, make us who we are. Yet, we must continue to lean upon the understanding of the ancients, like the Psalmist, to express our desire to be all that God wants us to be.

He planted a seed in all of us that longs for a Father. As we allow that seed to grow, God guides our lives through every trial, test and temptation. The seed, that free-will choice of heart and head–creates purpose. We uncover our purpose in God when we honestly seek him and genuinely desire to walk the path he sets out for us. As the Psalmist sang,

“Search me, God and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
See if there is any offensive way in me.
Lead me in the way everlasting.”

Don’t Say ‘Merry Christmas’

We sat on the floor in the middle of my son’s living room on Christmas morning, amid open boxes and scraps of torn wrapping paper. My grandsons, Eli and Josiah, laughed and played with new toys that had quickly become their favorites. Snatching Josiah into her lap as he danced across the floor in delight, my wife, Robin, hugged our youngest grandson and wished him, “Merry Christmas.”

Continue reading “Don’t Say ‘Merry Christmas’”

The Star

Background Passages: Genesis 1:14-20, Matthew 2:1-2, and 2 Timothy 1:8-10
An  Angel.
Sat beside the Creator.
Stardust smeared across its cheek
after a long day of placing planets and suns in place
under the watchful eye of God Almighty.
It surveyed the heavens.
Smile brightening.
Glancing at the Creator with a twinkle in its eyes,
“It’s good.”

 

The Creator.
Placed a hand on the Angel’s knee.
Shook His head.
Grinned.
“Not quite yet.”
One more thing to do.
One last heavenly body among
countless points of light.

A quiet word.
Wisps of ice and rock appear
in front of His face.
Spinning slowly.
Suspended
on the backdrop of
space.

The  Creator.
Gathered the formless mass into His hands.
Rolled the aggregate in His palms into a tight ball.
In deep concentration,
He looks into the universe
He just formed on this fourth day of conception.
Triangulating a position in a distant, inconspicuous galaxy
with the third planet from a remote sun
and a precise moment in time yet to come.

He nodded to His Angel.
Pointed into the depths of the cosmos.
“Take it…
there.”

In a flash the Angel carried it across universe and time.

“A little left,”
the Creator instructed.
The Angel shifted its position ever so slightly.
“Perfect,” said God.
“Now…
give it a push.”

The small rock hurtled through space
beginning its protracted,
but crucial journey.
God leaned back.
The Angel suddenly by his side again.
The Creator lifted his chin.
Stretched out his arms
to encompass all He designed that day.
Turned to his Angel.
“Now,”
He said with a smile,
“It’s good.”

*

Eons.
The Angel studied the rock on its course.
Baffled.
Bewildered.
Bemused.
Pondering the point of its
placement at that
precise spot
in the universe.

Such a small object
tumbling through space.
Mundane by any standard.
Especially when compared to the splendor of the
star clusters,
supernovae and
galaxies.

It left him…
wondering.

For time upon time,
the angel would check its progress.
Nothing spectacular.
Nothing of note.
Nothing to indicate its purpose.

It always left him…
Wondering.

One day as the Angel
watched and waited…
The ball of ice and rock,
pulled by the intense gravity of that
distant, yellow star,
reacted to its heat.
Ice cracked.
Broke off from the surface.

As it gained speed it left a
thin trail of frozen particles in its wake.
The residue grew brighter each passing day,
reflecting light from the star.
The tiny ball of ice and rock blossomed into its
God-planned existence as a large comet.
Its entire existence conceived for
this purpose and
this purpose only.

The Comet.
Caught in a death spiral by the gravity of the sun.
Glowed brightly.
Visible day and night.
Its light seemed to stand still
amid the incomparable beauty of a
God-created universe.

Locked for this time…
Inside an
undistinguished galaxy.
In an
isolated solar system.
Near an
indistinct planet.
Over an
insignificant country.
Above an
inconsequential village.

This “star,” to those who observed it more than 2,000 years ago,
pointed to
an inhospitable stable
in which lay an
indescribable child.
God’s only Son.

The Angel.
Watched events unfold.
No longer wondering.
Rather in awestruck wonder
of God’s revealed plan.
It looked in reverence at the Creator
as He looked in Love at the Creation.

The Angel whispered…
“It’s very good.”

*

Think about it.

The Star…
The stable
in Bethlehem.

The Star…
The shepherds
in the fields.

The Star…
The sages
from the East.

The Star…
The Savior
in the manger.

What perfect timing!
What intricate and eternal planning!

With the gentle push of an Angel
eons past,
God planned for the Star to reach that
specific spot in space
at that
special moment in time.
Pointing to the most beautiful
Creation in the entire expanse of
His immeasurable universe.

God sent His Son…
immaculately conceived and
human born…
not as an afterthought to a world that
unexpectedly broke away from Him.
Not as an attempt to correct His
botched effort at a perfect humanity.

No.
The birth of His Son.
Written on God’s heart
as a planned intervention.
Considered
before time existed.
Contemplated
before human creation.
Conceived
before we knew our need for Him.

His Son…
sent to redeem a world He knew from
inception would selfishly refuse the relationship
the Creator most desired with
His most beloved Creation.
You.
Me.

When I look, really look, at
God’s creation…
His majesty evident
in all I see.
His mystery evolving
in so much I don’t fully understand.
It leaves me…
wondering.

When I surrender, really surrender, to
Salvation’s Child…
His mercy evident
in His sacrifice.
Its miracle evolving
in so much I don’t fully understand.
I watch my life unfold…
no longer wondering.
Rather in in awestruck wonder
of God’s grace so freely offered through a Child
whose destiny lay on a cross.
My reconciliation.
My redemption.

Before the world was made.
The Creator put everything in motion.
Designed to come together at a
perfect place and point
in time.

For no other reason but to…
Give me a choice.
Give you a choice.

We can follow our own path or we can…
Follow the Light of the Star.
Find a Savior.

For no other reason…
that makes this a
Merry Christmas.

We look in reverence at the Creator
as He looks in Love at His Creation.
As believers in what He has done,
we whisper as did the Angel…

“It’s very good.”

Continue reading “The Star”

Orcas, Octonauts and Walruses

The list of things for which my grandsons are thankful circle the stem of their Thanksgiving pumpkin, spiraling down its side, one thought after another. As you read the list, you find what you would expect to find…Mommy, Daddy, family, boats, planes, doctors, tents, trains, specific toys and Ashley, the “kid-sitter…” because at four and two years of age, respectively, Eli and Josiah do not require a “baby-sitter.”

While most of their gratitude points to ordinary things that might appear on any child’s list, three things stand out…orcas, Octonauts and walruses. Intriguing sea creatures and a cartoon. I doubt any of those three would have made my prayer list.

Their Thanksgiving pumpkin, a family tradition designed to instill a sense of gratefulness to God for his many blessings, reminds me that I frequently take so much for granted. The innocence of children tends to see everything around them as a gift, worthy of the time it takes to say thank you to a God they are only beginning to understand.

As adults we grow jaded to the gifts around us. Preoccupied. Caught up in the chaos of our own choosing. Taking precious little time to think about the orcas, the Octonauts and the walruses. My grandchildren reminded me that the world is full of wonder and worthy of my gratitude.

I am thankful for all God has given me. That which I can touch and that which I can only feel. I have lived a charmed and blessed life, filled with people who love me and whom I love. I am blessed by God in the life He led me to and the life He has planned for me. I am grateful to God for every stroke of His hand that guided me through the choices I have made. I am thankful for the joy of experiencing what can be when you give your life to Him.

“Thankful,” a song written by David Foster and Carole Bayer Sager, and sung by Josh Grobin, speaks plainly to that point.

In preparation for Thanksgiving Day, I share with you the lyrics and the link to a beautiful song. Read the lyrics and listen as the song is sung.

Some days we forget
To look around us
Some days we can’t see
The joy that surrounds us
So caught up inside ourselves
We take when we should give.

So for tonight we pray for
What we know can be.
And on this day we hope for
What we still can’t see.
It’s up to us to be the change
And even though we all can still do more
There’s so much to be thankful for.

Look beyond ourselves
There’s so much sorrow
It’s way too late to say
I’ll cry tomorrow
Each of us must find our truth
It’s so long overdue

So for tonight we pray for
What we know can be
And every day we hope for
What we still can’t see
It’s up to us to be the change
And even though we all can still do more
There’s so much to be thankful for.

Even with our differences
There is a place we’re all connected
Each of us can find each other’s light

So for tonight we pray for
What we know can be
And on this day we hope for
What we still can’t see
It’s up to us to be the change
And even though this world needs so much more

There is so much to be thankful for.

As you celebrate Thanksgiving this week, express your gratitude for the orcas, Octonauts and the walruses. And remember, while the world needs so much of His grace, there is still “so much to be thankful for.”

Click on the link below to see the video.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yoygmylt2iM

Source: The Searcher

The Obstinate Brother

Background Verses: Luke 15:11-32

Let’s pick up where we left off last time with our study of Jesus’ poignant parable known as “The Prodigal Son.” Jesus shared his message of God’s grace and his redemptive purpose because the religious leaders of his day groused and complained that Jesus spent his time with “tax collectors and sinners.” This detailed parable shared his response, illustrating how God delights in the return of those who have lost their way.

The story and its message didn’t end at the surface. It wasn’t enough to remind the Pharisees of God’s patience and compassion. They needed to be reminded of their own skewed vision of God’s kingdom.

I’m not sure who said it or where I heard it, but someone once remarked that the parable of “The Prodigal Son” had to have received its name from the older brother. The title itself is an accusation, pointing self-righteous fingers at the wanton behavior of the lost. As such, it points out the very heart of those to whom its message was intended…the Pharisees. Drag the intent into the 21st century and we find a message for the church that spews judgment toward the lost in such a manner that it deprives them of the joy God wants them to experience within the fellowship of believers.

Certainly, the story Jesus told condemned the sin of the younger brother. His actions stood as a testimony to the selfishness in our hearts that delights in taking our own path of self-discovery and self-gratification, regardless of who we hurt or disrespect along the way. Lest anyone miss the point of His message, Jesus exposed the self-righteousness of the Pharisees and religious leaders who never seemed to understand that Jesus came to “seek and save that which was lost.” Never able to join in the celebration when the lost sheep, coin or son were found.

Let’s take a peak between the lines at the reaction Jesus described.

He watched absentmindedly.
Reacted on muscle memory.
Driving the small herd of sheep from
pasture to pen.
Shuffling right or left.
Holding out his staff,
with mind-numbing repetition.
Keeping the skittish herd moving down the path.
Returning home at the end of another day.

With constant resentment
simmering beneath the surface
and nothing else to distract his heart,
the man muttered another in a string of curses
directed at his brother for abandoning the family
to pursue his own selfishness.

He spat upon the ground,
recalling how his father would stare down the road his brother traveled,
pining for months for his return.
Why his father had not washed his
brother’s memory from his heart was beyond him.
He had hurt too many people.
Disrepected every tradition.
“Good riddance,”
he breathed for what must have been the 1,000th time.

A distant sound broke through his
personal pity party.
Turned his ear to the wind.
The intermittent sound of a flute so out of place in the pasture
Became less intermittent with each step.
More fluid and melodious
as he topped the crest of the hill.
Sounds of laughter.
Shouts of delight.

The man took off running toward his home…
the source of the revelry,
scattering the sheep and leaving them unattended in the field.

Burst through the gate,
knocking a tray of food from the hands of a servant.
Without apology, he grabbed the young girl’s arm.
“What’s going on? Tell me.”

She looked at him, smile beaming from her face.
“It’s your brother! He’s come home!
Come on in and see.”
Gathering up the tray and rushing toward the door, she called,
“You should see your Father.
I’ve never seen him so happy.”
 
As he watched her open the door to HIS house,
The noise of celebration echoed in the courtyard.
His mind reeled.
Stunned.
Seething.
Shattered.

His feet were as unmoved as his heart.
Unable to bring himself to join the celebration.
Resentful of his brother.
Angry with his Father.
Bitter at his circumstance.

His father opened the door.
Rushed to his side.
Hugging his elder son…
an embrace that was not returned.
With his hand resting on the neck of his son,
eyes glistening with tears, the father said,
“Come. Celebrate.
For your brother who was lost has returned.”

The son pushed him away,
anger burning brighter than the sun.
Hurt and disappointment
evident in every expression.
“I’ve slaved for you…”
“Never disobeyed…”
“You’ve never thrown a party for me…”
“You’re celebrating for
this…this…son of yours who squandered and sinned…”
“What about me?”

 Scripture records Jesus’ words in response to the older brother’s tirade in Luke 15:31-32, “My son, you are always with me and everything I have is yours. Be we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”

How fortunate that the younger brother was met first by the father and not by his older sibling…who would have turned him away and sent him back into the far country. The older brother lost nothing of his inheritance upon the return of the brother. The Father said, “All if have is yours.” His inheritance remained intact. Instead, he urged him to celebrate the return of “this brother of yours” who was “dead and is now alive, lost and is found.”

I picture Jesus finishing that last statement of his parable, looking into the eyes of the Phraisees who challenged his work among sinners. In this phrase Jesus was making yet another appeal to the blinded religious leaders to open their hearts to what God was doing for those who were lost right in front of their eyes. To the Pharisees, Jesus consorted with “this son of yours” when Jesus wanted them to see these same individuals as “this brother of yours.”

For the religious leaders it was more about the show and less about the substance. Their lack of love toward the lost prevented them from offering an alternative path of faith. In their eyes, the sinners were neither religious nor respectable enough to hear the word of God. Yet, Jesus taught that the show of religion and the pretense of respectability is no substitute for redemption.

As people of faith, we miss our chance to be redemptive when the language we use condemns the sinner and not just the sin. Jesus knew those with whom he shared his time were lost, living lives outside the will of God.  He chose to build relationships and connections with the sinners of the world so they could embrace the salvation he offered. He never put them down. Never called them names. Never suggested they were unworthy of receiving God’s grace.

Yet, that’s exactly the message that the words and behavior of some Christians convey through ugly and malicious messages on Facebook or mainstream media. We must take greater care in the words we use and the message we convey as we speak words of truth to a lost world.

Jesus began his parable as a way of celebrating the redemptive work of God among a world in desperate need of his grace. He concluded the parable with a stern warning to all of us our faith must be more than a show of religion and our lives more than a pretense of respectability.

Think how much better it would be if we worked alongside the father, one eye on the labor and one eye on the road traveled by our lost brother. Praying for the return of the lost to the Father’s loving embrace and joining in the heavenly celebration when our brother returns.

 

Source: The Searcher