The Searcher…

Do Not Harden Your Heart

Background Passages: Mark 6:30-52 and Ephesians 1:15-19a

You’ll remember the story.

The disciples just returned to Bethsaida on the shore of the Sea of Galilee after a quick mission trip of their own where they taught and preached the gospel. As they began sharing how God had been at work in their efforts, the bustle of the crowd grew distracting.

Jesus suggested a quick boat ride to the far shore where they could spend a quieter time in reflection, rest and praise.

Their leaving the town did not go unnoticed, however. As their boats rowed across the water, the crowd followed, walking along the shoreline trying to catch up to the teacher and healer. By the time Jesus and his disciples reached the beach, a large crowd had already gathered, hoping to hear the words of the master teacher.

Jesus felt compassion toward them, according to scripture, and began to teach them “many things” about God and what it means to live as his people. As the late afternoon came, one of the disciples interrupted Jesus and suggested he call it a day.

I’m paraphrasing, but they said, “We’re in a remote place and it’s late. These folks are going to be hungry. We need to send them on their way so they can find something to eat.”

Jesus suggested that rather than send them away, the disciples should feed them. The idea struck them as impossible. The crowd was too large and their funds too small. Jesus asked them what they had which they could share. Andrew, bless his heart, found a young boy with a pouch holding five small loaves of bread and two small fish that his mother had prepared for his lunch that morning. “That’s it, Jesus.” He probably said. “That’s all we could find.”

Sometime later, the disciples stared for a long moment at the 12 baskets of loaves and fishes gathered after Jesus took the boy’s meager meal, blessed it and began giving food to the disciples to distribute to the crowd of 5,000 men and their families.

Can you imagine how stunning it must have been to see the unfolding of this miracle?

After taking care of the hungry, Jesus insisted that the disciples get in the boat to return to Bethsaida. They pushed off from shore, yammering in excitement about what they had just witnessed. After dismissing the crowd, telling them to return home, Jesus found a quiet place on the mountainside to rest and pray, giving thanks to God for the blessings that unfolded that day.

The winds picked up during the early morning hours and the moon glistened off the water below. In the distance, Jesus could see the disciples struggling to make headway against the wind and waves. Scripture tells us they were “straining at the oars.”

Mark picks up the story from there.

Shortly before dawn he (Jesus) went out to them, walking on the lake. He was about to pass by them, but when they saw him walking on the lake, they thought he was a ghost. They cried out, because they all saw him and were terrified.

Immediately he spoke to them and said, “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.” Then, he climbed into the boat with them, and the wind died down. They were completely amazed, for they had not understood about the loaves; their hearts were hardened.

I went a long way through scripture to get to that last line that I’ve overlooked every time I’ve read this story. “Their hearts were hardened.”

That’s a phrase I most often associate with Pharoah. Moses, on God’s behalf, appealed to Pharoah time and time again to let the people of Israel return to their homeland. Each time the Egyptian king refused, God sent a plague of blood or frogs (that would have done it for me), or gnats, or flies to prove his power and persuade the reluctant ruler.

Each time, however, scripture in Exodus tells us that Pharoah “hardened his heart.” Then, when God had given him every chance in the world to respond positively to him, God took his choice away. God, then “hardened the heart of Pharoah,” sealing his fate.

When we see that term in scripture, it usually means a stubborn refusal to obey God’s teaching or to acknowledge him as Lord. In the Old Testament, it suggests such self-centeredness that one simply turns his back repeatedly on God. Refusing to listen. Refusing to obey.

In the New Testament and even today, to harden one’s heart is to stubbornly and consistently reject Jesus as Savior and Lord, despite every effort the Holy Spirit makes to open one’s heart to the possibility of salvation through Christ. That’s true, the story I just shared suggests there is more to it than that.

In our passage in Mark, we see the disciples sitting in a boat in the middle of the Sea of Galilee with hardened hearts after Jesus demonstrated his power and authority over all things, not once, but twice in the space of 12 hours. His disciples. His followers. People who believe in him.

Once Jesus climbed into the boat, Mark tells us the disciples were “completely amazed.” Whatever Greek word is used in this instance, is evidently not easily translated into English. Different versions of the Bible capture the phrase as “completely overwhelmed,” “completely astounded,” “so baffled they were beside themselves,’ “completely confused,” or “utterly astounded.”

The reason for their profound astonishment was not that Jesus walked on water and calmed the sea. Look what Mark said, “…they had not understood about the loaves.”

Talk about a left turn. I didn’t see that coming. What did they not understand about the loaves?

The disciples were believers. They trusted Jesus as Lord, but they still had much to learn about who he was and what it means to live for him. Such a description sounds eerily familiar to my life…and I suspect to yours.

Though they had come a long way in their understanding, they often missed the point of what Jesus did and why he did it. Jesus did an incredible miracle by creating food for as many as 15,000-20,000 men, women and children from a measly sack lunch. John tells us that Jesus even took the time shortly after this incident to explain that the feeding of the 5,000 was an object lesson, pointing to him as the “bread of life.”

The disciples, however, got in the boat that night, marveling at the miracle, but not truly seeing the one who worked the miracle for who he really is. They missed the revelation of his deity…as God in flesh. It could have been such a turning point in their lives, yet they missed it.

That’s why they were then amazed when he did other God-like things such as walking on the water or calming the sea. Their hearts stubbornly refused to see what was standing right before their eyes, as the water lapped at his ankles. God, through Jesus, is capable of doing anything regardless of the lack of resources or the difficulty of the circumstance.

Their hearts were hardened.

And, there lies the lesson I needed to hear. The language about hardened hearts is usually reserved for God’s enemies, people to whom God is a stranger. Sometimes, those of us who know and trust Jesus as Lord, still have a hard time believing that God is God and that God is still at work.

Stubbornly refusing to believe what we see that reveals his “Godness,” his goodness and his presence in our lives. Hardening our hearts even when we see him doing God things.

Here’s where the story gets so real to me. The disciples didn’t miss the miracle of the loaves. They were in the big middle of it.

They saw Jesus pray. They saw him take the food he had available and turn it into a feast. They handed out basket after basket and each time they returned to Jesus he handed them another basket until everyone was fed.

They saw the grateful faces of the hungry and heard their joy and laughter. They gathered up the leftovers, each loading a full meal to take with them on their journey.

I can be in the middle of God’s work and still miss seeing God in it simply because my heart is not paying attention. I marvel at the miracle and miss the miracle worker.

Paul wrote a letter to the Ephesian church that sounds like a perfect way to focus on keeping our hearts from being hardened to the exceptional grace and work of God in Christ.

“For this reason, ever since I heard about your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for all God’s people, I have not stopped giving thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers. I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better. I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened (in other words, not hardened) 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 1:15-19a)

It was Paul’s prayer for his friends in Ephesus and 2,000 years later, I’m making it my prayer for my life and for yours.

You Are What You Think

Background Passages: Psalm 1:1-4, Jeremiah 17:7-8, Philippians 4:8, and 2 Corinthians 10:3-5

The route we typically took to my parents’ house from Pasadena to Ropesville was honestly not the most scenic drive. While there is something to be said for the stark beauty of the endless highway and cotton fields, the trip that we took countless times was little more than the occasional mesa, a random Dairy Queen and a lot of flat, empty space.

I recall making that drive early in our marriage before children as we sat in silence while the country droned by. I felt Robin’s eyes on me long before she asked the question every husband dreads.

“What are you thinking?”

Every husband knows my response. “Nothing.” Also, as every husband knows, that’s exactly what I was thinking in that exact moment and in most moments of solitude. Absolutely nothing.

Comedian Mark Gungor would say, “I was in my Nothing Box.” (If you’ve never seen that YouTube video about how the brains of men and women work, it’s worth the view.)

The Bible talks a lot about our thought life. Though it’s slightly out of context, Solomon lets us know in Proverbs 23:7 that “As a man thinks, so he is.”

In other words, you are what you think. Whatever we choose to concentrate on, spend our time thinking about, will impact the way we choose to live.

Hear the instructive word of the Psalmist.

Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way sinners take or sit in the company of mockers, but whose delight is in the law of the Lord, and who meditates on his law day and night. That person is like a tree planted by streams of water which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither—whatever they do prospers. Not so the wicked. They are like chaff that the wind blows away. (Psalm 1:1-4)

As the opening hymn of the Psalm, the passage answers some amazingly deep questions about life. Who am I going to be? Who is God? Where can I find true contentment and happiness? What road should I take in life? What is my purpose?

It is a call to be blessed. To find contentment and joy, regardless of life’s circumstances. The passage puts us squarely in the middle of the fork in the road. The first path is walked by the wicked, the sinners and the mockers of all that is holy.

Jesus might have called it Broadway. He said in Matthew 7:13, “…For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it.”

That first step down the path of the wicked and the way of the sinner always begin with a thought, an idea, a desire that pops in our head that entices and seduces us. We begin to think walking that path would be so much more fun, so much more profitable, so much more popular, that we can’t help but start the journey. As we think, so we are. It doesn’t take long for our thoughts to take hold in our hearts. Now, instead of just thinking about things we shouldn’t, we’re doing them.

Sadly, Paul and I have much in common on this point. I suspect most of us do.

I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do…For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do–this I keep doing. (Romans 7:15,18-19)

We won’t find contentment on the broad road described by Jesus or the way of the wicked described by the Psalmist. Rather, we’ll end up feeling more and more like Paul. We don’t intend to walk that path, but the world makes it look easy and appealing.

Blessedness (joy and contentment) comes, according to Psalm 1, when we don’t follow in the footsteps of those who do evil or take the path sinners take or travel among the scoffers who know nothing of God and his grace or goodness. It is the road to destruction…to chaff. An existence in which we are blown in whatever direction the wind blows. Never truly grounded. Always acting on a whim.

The Psalmist said the one who is blessed will find a different road to travel. In that same passage in Matthew, Jesus tells us to use the narrow gate and the “narrow road that leads to life and only a few find it.” As Robert Frost said, “…the road less traveled.”

Blessedness flows to the one whose “delight is in the law of the Lord, and who meditates on his law day and night.” Delight is a heart response to something or someone of beauty and value, in this case, God’s word and its truth. The word “delight” is used typically in scripture to describe the life in which God’s purpose and choice are in view.

It is joy, pleasure and satisfaction that comes when we abide in his word and will. Such delight comes only from delving deeply into scripture, finding its relevance for our lives and acting daily upon it.

The one who thinks only about the truths and promises of God found in his word is the one who walks in the path of the righteous and stands in the way of the faithful or sits in the company of those who trust in God’s word. You see, as a man thinks, so he is.

If we think of the things of God, those will be the attributes ingrained in us. It is an immutable truth repeated time and time again in scripture.

Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthy things. (Colossians 3:1-2)

Then, look at what Paul tells the Philippian church about the way we ought to think.

He begins the passage by exhorting his readers to “rejoice.” To find joy. To find contentment. To find a peace that “transcends all understanding…” Then, he tells them how.

Finally, brothers and sisters, 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. (Philippians 4:4-8)

Paul expresses in such a beautiful and poetic way how our thoughts ought to be directed.

Jesus even alludes to it in his Beatitudes when he says, “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.”

Given that the heart was viewed in the Jewish culture as the center of thought and will, Jesus says those whose thoughts are pure, whose motives for every decision are aligned with God’s word and will—these are the souls who will see God at work in their lives. These are the folks who find God in every circumstance of life—good or bad.

You are what you think.

Paul shared one more thought in his second letter to the Corinthian church which feels applicable here.

Though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ. (2 Corinthians 10:3-5)

Don’t you love that last phrase?

…take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ…

The Greek word used for “take captive” means “to control, to conquer, to bring into submission.” We bring into submission every thought so that it conforms to the teachings of Christ. We conquer our tendency to dwell on things we shouldn’t be thinking about. We control those wicked thoughts by not letting them take root in our heart and soul.

The good news is that the Psalmist tells us how to do this.

We take captive our thoughts ”by meditating on the law day and night.”

Our hearts desire must be to embed ourselves so deeply in God’s word and all that it teaches us that we have little time to think of anything else. To be so grounded in scripture, that every temptation is answered by the Spirit’s whispered reminder of what has been taught us through God’s word…just as Jesus refuted every temptation from Satan with a word from scripture.

It’s not enough to just hear scripture read to you in Sunday School or from the pulpit. We need to spend time during the week studying God’s word, especially when the pervasive garbage of the world tries so hard to infiltrate our every thought.

The Rev. Charles Spurgeon said, “A Bible that is falling apart usually belongs to someone who isn’t.”

I’ll revert to the Proverbs, an ancient equivalent to the modern day “garbage in, garbage out.” Proverbs 15:14 says that “A wise person is hungry for knowledge, while the fool feeds on trash.”

You are what you think.

I like the idea the Psalmist conveys when he says what it is like to be one who immerses himself in God’s word.

That person is like a tree planted by streams of water which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither—whatever they do prospers.

Jeremiah shares a similar thought.

Bless is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit. (Jeremiah 17:7-8)

You must love this tree metaphor as much as I do.

Notice that the tree is planted by the stream. It didn’t grow up there on its own accord. It was planted. Planted means to cause to take root. The Hebrew word used here more closely translates as “transplanted.” To cause to take root after moving from one environment to another more suited for growth.

I love that idea in the context of this Psalm that talks about the way of the wicked opposed to the way of the righteous seen in the one who dwells in God’s word. That person is transplanted from the path of wicked, the sinner and the scoffer to live and grow next to the living water found in God’s word through Christ Jesus.

A tree’s roots run deep, searching always for the moisture and nutrients that fuel its growth. The deeper its roots go, the more sturdy and stable it becomes , more capable of withstanding any wind that blows. (In contrast, it takes very little wind to blow away the chaff.)

That’s how it is with one grounded deeply in scripture. She finds the spiritual water and nutrients to grow and mature in Christ. And, like the tree, that kind of growth takes time. We live in a time of instant gratification, but the Christian life is a process of growing and learning. Each minute we stop looking to the Bible for our strength is a lost moment in our spiritual lives.

Notice also that the tree yields fruit. Our time spend in studying God’s word will always point us to ministry and service. It is the understanding of what God requires of us that propels us to care for and serve others.

The message of this Psalm hit me squarely between the eyes this week.

You are what you think.

As we walk through each day, let’s meditate on God’s word…day and night. Think about the things of God. When we do, it’s so much easier to…

Be the tree.

Take Up Your Cross

Background Passage: Mark 8:31-37

Passing a large church in the Philippines several years ago, a pastor from the United States spotted a number of vendors selling incense, candles, veils and rosaries. That’s not really what caught his attention.

His eyes were drawn to two young boys running through the crowd selling small wooden crosses. Hawking their goods with enthusiasm, he heard them calling, “Crosses!. Cheap crosses for sale! Buy a cheap cross!”

It’s a painful reality, isn’t it? That’s exactly what many of us do. We want a cheap cross, one that demands little of us. All celebration and no commitment.

The cross of Christ was no cheap cross. It came at an unbelievable cost as a ransom for my sin…and yours.

Jesus and his disciples just returned from a staff retreat in Caesarea Philippi where Jesus earnestly began teaching them about the role God sent him to play. When Peter, in a moment of clarity, declared that Jesus was the Messiah, the Christ, God’s Anointed One, he got the title right. Despite his confession, he and the others still failed to understand exactly what that meant.

From that moment on, Jesus spoke more plainly to them about the suffering that was to come. Mark records the moment.

He then began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, chief priest and teachers of the law, and then he must be killed and after three days rise again. He spoke plainly about this, and Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. (Mark 8:31-32)

Peter missed the whole point of the lesson learned in Caesarea Philippi. Comfortable in his preconceived notions about what a Messiah should look like and how a Messiah should act, he pulled Jesus aside and fussed at him for saying anything contrary to his idea of a political deliverer. “This is not the way to win friends and influence people, Jesus.”

Peter’s response must have broken Jesus’ heart. Jesus glanced back at the disciples who still looked a little shellshocked at Jesus’ description of the work ahead and then at Peter’s “better listen to me” scowl. The whispered rebuke to his strongest disciple must have pierced Peter’s heart.

But when Jesus turned and looked at his disciples, he rebuked Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! he said. “You do not mind the things of God, but the things of men!” (Mark 8:33)

After a brief standoff, Jesus shook his head and sauntered back to the crowd that stood nearby. After a glance back at his disciples to make sure they were paying attention, Jesus laid his heart open for all to see.

If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whomever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it. What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul? (Mark 34-37)

Jesus seemed to tell them, “You call me Messiah, but have no clue what it means for me or for you…let me be clear.” Don’t you imagine the words he preached burned like hot coals into the core of Peter’s soul!

I can see Jesus looking straight into Peter’s eyes when he started his message. “If anyone would come after me…” These words speak to a decision point. More literally in the Greek, the phrase suggests, “to come to a point of being with…”

Jesus is telling them if you’re truly with me, if you’re going to walk with me, if that’s what you decide to do, then understand clearly the price you must pay.

When Jesus talks about denying oneself, he speaks of changing out one’s selfish heart with one that looks toward a greater good. Understanding what God needs you to do and not getting in his way. Moving away from being served toward serving.

You see, Peter’s picture of the Messiah was drastically different than the one Jesus was painting. The path he thought he was following far different from the one for which Jesus was preparing Peter and the rest of the disciples.

To deny oneself is to realize life is no longer all about me. No longer about my personal agenda. It is about the one to whom I belong. It’s about my service to others. It is about losing myself in Christ. It’s about allowing God to work in and through the gifts he gave me so Christ is revealed in me. Giving God custody and control of my life.

Paul hinted at this when he said, “…You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore, honor God with your body.” (I Corinthians 6:19-20)

To take up one’s cross conjured up a horrific image within the context of those first century, would-be disciples. The cross stood as Rome’s unique and cruel form of public punishment and humiliation designed to keep the population in check. Its brutality was on display for all to see.

Undoubtedly, almost all, if not all, of those present that day with Jesus had witnessed its barbarity on display. They clearly understood the implications of what Jesus demanded of them.

If you make the decision to be with me, you must be prepared to give your life for my sake. There is nothing cheap about this cross. It was a cost too many, even in Jesus’ day, were unprepared to pay.

I think of the rich, young ruler who chased Jesus down and honestly shared his faithfulness to the teachings of scripture and his devotion to prayer and the slew of good thing he did for others. Jesus looked in his heart and saw that his lifestyle consumed him. Jesus suggested that if this rich, young man wanted to come with Jesus, he had to give up the lifestyle he enjoyed. (Matthew 19:16-22)

I think of the three men who came to Jesus while he was traveling, pledging to follow him wherever he went. The first turned back when he discovered the Jesus life would be a bit uncomfortable. The second man wanted to wait until his father died. The third man just needed a bit more time with his family and friends. (Luke 9:57-62)

Each in their own way threw up obstacles that prevented them from committing their all to Jesus. The cost of discipleship was too steep. It wasn’t a cheap cross then and it isn’t any less expensive today.

I’ve heard some trivialize this passage by interpreting the cross as some burden they have to bear…a physical illness, a soured relationship, a thankless job. It becomes little more than some aspect of life that is little more than a symbolic annoyance.

To the first century follower of Christ to take up the cross expressed the willingness to make the ultimate sacrifice for the cause of Christ. It didn’t mean everyone who followed Christ would die on the cross, but it meant a full surrender to that possibility. To give your life completely to him.

Jesus certainly understood the cost as he agonized over it in the Garden of Gethsemane. As he endured its painful reality at Calvary. But, when Jesus spoke the words, asking us to take up our cross, I believe Jesus thought less about the dying and more about surrendering. Yielding to whatever God asked of him. Asking us to yield to whatever God asks of us.

You can’t do that with a divided heart, holding on to a distorted or watered down version of what following Christ means. We must submit our hearts absolutely and without reservation to the call of Christ. It is a call of self-sacrifice and surrender. Paul called it “dying to self.”

Look how Jesus described the cross-bearing life in Luke 8:35. He said we gain life in all its abundance and fullness when we lose or surrender our lives to “me and to the gospel.” Absolute devotion to Christ and to the sharing of the gospel, the good news, of the grace offered through Jesus.

The questions Jesus then posed to the crowd conveyed the seriousness of that decision.

What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, yet forfeit his soul? Or, what can a man give in exchange for his soul?

The ancient Hebrew viewed the soul as the entire inner nature of man, the eternal and imperishable essence of every being. Based on our faith commitment to Christ it is that part of us that endures in the everlasting presence of God or separated from him for all eternity.

The passage ends with the consequence of the choice we make when we don’t take up the cross. We could gain all there is to gain in this world…all its wealth and power…all its beauty and bounty…yet when we die, we’ll find our souls outside the eternal presence of God, unable to share in his glory for all time.

Jesus said even if we gained the wealth of the whole world, it would not be enough to purchase what Jesus so freely gave.

Late in the nineteenth century, Justin Van DeVenter struggled with the decision to leave his teaching career and enter the ministry. He describes a pivotal turning point in his life when he gave in to God’s call.

“A new day was ushered into my life,” said Van DeVenter. “I discovered deep down in my soul a talent hitherto unknown to me. God had hidden a song in my heart and, touching a tender chord, caused me to sing.”

It was a song that would profoundly influence Billy Graham’s early ministry. I suspect his words touched many of us as well.

All to Jesus I surrender;
All to him I freely give.
I will ever love and trust him,
In his presence daily live.
I surrender all.
I surrender all.
All to thee my blessed Savior,
I surrender all.

Jesus calls us to take up our cross. To do so means surrendering all to him. I’d like to say I do that every day, but I don’t. It’s easier to hide behind an obstacle, make an excuse or convince myself that I know better. I’ll surrender some things but hold tightly to others.

Then, I hear those words again. “What good is it for a man to gain the whole world, but forfeit his soul?” The answer is clear. No good at all. The cross is not cheap.

Let’s allow that old hymn resonate knowing full well the cost.

All to Jesus I surrender.

I surrender all.

An Oasis for Authentic Worship

Background Passages: Psalm 84:1-2; Romans 12:1-2

Sitting in Mr. Wallace’s sixth grade world geography class made an impression on this West Texas farm boy. As nice as he could be, he had a dry way of teaching, reminiscent of the economics teacher played by Ben Stein in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off…”Anyone? Anyone?”

While not overly exciting in his presentation, he opened up a world of places I assumed I’d never get to see in person.

While I admit our farm didn’t get a lot of rain, I was fascinated by the world’s great deserts and even more intrigued by the oases that dotted the desert landscape.

The Jubbah oasis sits in the middle of Saudi Arabia’s Nefud Desert, a smudged green basin in an endless sea of sand dunes. Archeological evidence suggests that humans have continuously occupied the site for at least 10,000 years, a testament to changing climate patterns and human resilience.

The freshwater lake at Jubbah exists as it has for thousands of years, an oasis in the middle of a vast desert emptiness thanks to a quirk of local geography.

Due west of Jubbah sits Jebel um Sanman, a massive sandstone formation rising abruptly 1,300 feet above the desert floor. The strong westerly winds rushing across the flat desert terrain hit the rock, breaking around it like water cut by a ship’s bow. For much of human history, the rock has protected the lake, leaving the oasis unscathed, a respite for weary and thirsty travelers.

Can you imagine the nomadic lifestyle of the region that depended upon finding that green oasis in the middle of such a vast and empty space? Your life depended on finding water to drink and shade as a respite from the desert heat. I imagine they longed to see it come into view. Yearned for it.

The thought of oasis came to mind this week as I read Psalm 84. It is a song probably sung by those Jews on pilgrimage to Jerusalem, a trek they were required to make at least once a year for the sole purpose of worshipping at God’s temple. The Psalm is a song of yearning, longing for the chance to be in God’s house to offer sacrifices of praise and worship.

As I read the Psalm, it made me think. Is church, being with God’s people engaged in worship, my oasis?

Do I truly long to be in God’s house? Do I yearn for his fellowship? Is it really my heart’s desire to seek him out, to worship God as Jesus said, “in truth and spirit?” Do I sincerely long to be in his presence?

Look at how the psalmist’s deepest desire is to spend time with God.

How lovely is your dwelling place, O Lord Almighty. My soul yearns, even faints for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh cry out for the living Lord…Blessed are those who dwell in your house. They are ever praising you. (vs. 1-2, 4)

His soul aches so much to be in God’s temple that he grows faint. It’s not just something he wants to do. Worshipping his Lord is something he must do. When his heart cries out for God it expresses the hunger of a starving man or the thirst of one lost in the desert.

Picture a newborn infant, longing for its mother’s milk. That baby cries with its whole body. Arms punch out. Legs kick. Its face a mask of agony, crying out for what it needs. That’s the psalmist’s image. There is such an aching desire to be in God’s house. His whole being screams for it.

When I read those words, I realize how much I take for granted my presence at church every week. While I don’t consider it an obligation, I’m not sure I always approach worship with the same sense of urgency expressed by the psalmist. Where the only bad thing about worshipping in church each Sunday is that I have to count the days before I can do it again.

The psalmist talks about how he envies the birds that make their nests in the temple because they live each day in God’s presence and under God’s protection. I like the image it conveys. The birds lay their eggs and raise their young inside the walls of the temple courts. It is a place for their young to be safe. Isn’t that a great metaphor?

It’s easy as parents of children and teenagers to get so involved in other activities that church becomes less of a priority. My wife and I certainly felt that tug when our boys were young. Still, when Moms and Dads set an example by “building our nests” in God’s presence and under his protection, when our children see the value we place on worship, worship becomes priority for them.

Church ought to be a place for families. It ought to be a place where the “village” helps raise the young. As I grew up in that little First Baptist Church in Ropesville, I knew in some way every adult there was my parent…Sunday School teachers who helped lay out what God required of me. I knew they all wanted me to grow in my understanding of God’s love and grace. I certainly knew if I misbehaved, those “parents” would correct me and then let my parents know of my poor choices. They helped raise me.

Any child raised in the church and loved by God’s people is blessed.

The Valley of Baca referenced in verse 5 translates in the Hebrew more closely to the valley of weeping…a place of trouble and sorrow. The people of God on pilgrimage to Jerusalem to worship in the temple had to pass through this normally dry and barren place. It represents the difficult part of their journey to Jerusalem.

However, along the way, God provided rains that made pools of water that refreshed and rejuvenated the worshippers as they journeyed to meet in God’s house.

Blessed are those whose strength is in you, who have set their hearts on pilgrimage. As they pass through the valley of Baca, they make it a place of springs; the autumn rains also cover it with pools. They go from strength to strength before each appears before God in Zion. (vs. 4-7)

This introduces the concept of God and God’s house as an oasis, a respite from life’s burdens. Blessed…happy…content is the person who finds fulfillment and renewal when worshipping God.

I like what the psalmist said about those whose have “hearts set on pilgrimage.” Our faith journey is a pilgrimage from its beginning until it’s end. Always learning. Always growing. Always gaining understanding about God’s grace and his love for us. Always figuring out from one day to the next what it means to live a Christlike life. The pilgrimage is not always easy, but it is always best when walked with God…when we find God’s house as an oasis in the middle of life’s desert.

As I sit here this week, pondering my own worship experiences, I admit that I don’t always walk into the sanctuary in my church with a heart longing to be in God’s presence. At least, not in the same sense of yearning expressed by the psalmist. I must do better. If my heart is not ready to experience God, I find I don’t always find respite from my troubles.

Here’s the truth, though. God is my oasis. He is that point of renewal and rejuvenation. Just like that desert nomad, however, if I miss the oasis, if I don’t come with a heart yearning for God, I won’t find the waters that quench my thirst or find respite in the shade of God’s loving presence.

It starts with my attitude. It starts in my heart. It starts with my approach to worship.

The passage says essentially, “I can find contentment when the highlight of my week is when I get to worship God within a body of believers who yearn just as much to be in God’s presence as I do. While worship is a matter between God and me, it is greatly enhanced in the presence of others who have also set their hearts on the pilgrimage.

Remember Jebel um Sanman. The 1,300-foot rock redirects the wind and sand that would overwhelm and consume the lake at Jubbah that gives life to those who rest by its waters. Without the rock, there would be no oasis, no life.

Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked. For the Lord is my sun and my shield; the Lord bestows favor and honor; no good thing does he withhold for those whose walk is blameless. Lord Almighty, blessed is the man who trusts in you. (vs. 10,12)

God and his church (the people of faith, not the building) stand as that protective rock that redirects the ill winds that blow our way. Better is one day in worship to God than a thousand days doing anything else. That’s the way it ought to be!

I get another chance tomorrow to find rest in God, my oasis, through Jesus his son. So do you. We’ll find that together only when we come with hearts prepared to worship., yearning for the chance to commune with our father in heaven.

So whether you are with me at South Main Baptist Church or among a congregation of your own choosing, listen as Paul tells us what true worship looks like.

I urge you therefore, brothers, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any more to the pattern of this world but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then, you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.” (Romans 12:1-2)

I pray you’ll find your oasis this Sunday.

Decisions, Decisions

Background Passages: Matthew 4:2-11; John 1:1,14; Matthew 22:37-40

The Hermitage in St. Petersburg, Russia, once served as the palatial home of the tsars. The gilded palace is now an art museum. One of the works of art one can see at the Hermitage is The Benois Madonna, painted in 1478 by Leonardo Di Vinci.

Named after the family who once owned it, this portrait of Mary and the infant Jesus have them engrossed in play together, their gazes lifelike to a degree that only Di Vinci could achieve. Above both the Madonna and Jesus hover faint outlines of a halo.

The use of a halo to represent the deity of Jesus is a common theme in art. I remember thinking as I viewed that painting several years ago that Jesus might be embarrassed by the depiction. A halo just wasn’t his style. It’s difficult to see the halo when you read the astounding words in the Gospel of John.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…The word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. (John 1:1, 14)

As steeped in theology as those words might be, I find them so incredibly comforting. Think about that for a second. God’s son who existed in him and with him and was, in fact him, surrendered that divine existence to walk among the weeds with us. The very image of God living the same life I live.

Jesus’ early life is shrouded in mystery that matters only a little bit. From the infant unnaturally born in a natural way, to a 12-year-old with a mind that soaked up scripture like the desert soaks up a raindrop. To the carpenter with calloused hands who emerged from Jordan’s waters to hear his Father kickstart his ministry by declaring, “This is my beloved son in whom I am well pleased.”

Everything else in the years between those brief glimpses into his life remains a product of speculation and imagination. In my mind, he didn’t walk those 30 years with a halo on his head spouting the King James English. He lived those 30 years coming to grips with what it means to live as the image of God.

As he walked away from the Jordan that day, hair dripping with river water, with the words of his father echoing in his heart and soul, Jesus headed into the desert to face the options open to him in his ministry. To more clearly grasp his purpose.

Grady Nutt, in his book Being Me, wrote about Jesus’ time in the wilderness. “This remarkable young man with all his gifts and with his unique relationship to God—he even called God a word we would translate as Daddy—still had to decide who would rule his life and what he would do with his life.”

Scripture tells us that Jesus spent 40 days in prayer and fasting. It’s again speculation on my part, but I think this time spent talking to his father gave Jesus a clear understanding of the role he would play in God’s redemptive plan. Obedience to that plan would put him on a cross. It may not have been the first time the thought entered his mind, but his time in the desert, I believe, left no doubt as to his purpose.

I think the last time he got up from his knees with his stomach rumbling, it was with a sense of clarity and resolve. That’s probably why Satan began to put a bug in his ear, offering a few alternative choices.

You’ll find this account in both Matthew and Luke under a heading of “The Temptations of Christ.” The title gives a little too much credit to the tempter, it seems to me. Nutt calls the same passage, “The Decisions of Christ,” putting the emphasis on the response of the one who is tempted, not the challenge of the tempter.

I like that because when I’m being pulled to consider options other than what I know God demands of me, I have decisions to make. It’s less about the temptation and more about how I will respond to it. What I will decide to do. What choice I chose to make.

The good news is I only need to see Jesus, the image of God standing in a desert, to get a handle on the proper choice to any temptation. Take a look at a familiar story from the Bible.

After fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry. The tempter came to him and said, “If you are the Son of God, tell these stones to become bread.”

Jesus answered, “It is written: ‘Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.’”

Then, the devil took him to the holy city and had him stand on the highest point of the temple. “If you are the Son of God,” he said, “throw yourself down. For it is written, ‘He will command his angels concerning you, and they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.’”

Jesus answered, “It is also written: ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’”

Again, the devil took him to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world and their splendor. “All this I will give you,” he said, “if you will bow down and worship me.”

Jesus said, “Away from me, Satan! For it is written: ‘Worship the Lord your God and serve him only.’” (Matthew 4:2-10)

In Christ, there is certainly the halo effect of God sending his son to become redemption for a sinful humanity. There is also the human effect of God sending his son, as Pastor Ray Stedman says, “to reveal man as God intended man to be.” In all Jesus did, in every aspect of his life as he lived among us as the image of God, we see a man acting as God desired us to act from the very onset of creation. The perfect example of God in human form.

From that perspective, suddenly life makes more sense. Throughout his ministry and certainly in this episode of his life, Jesus calls us to live faithfully by his words, his deeds and his decisions. He even summed it up in two simple statements to a scheming Pharisee.

You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. The second is like it. Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” (Matthew 22:37-40)

You see how he internalized those commands in his response to the choices in front of him while in the wilderness.

Twice Satan challenged him, If you are the Son of God, then…” Notice the emphasis on the “if.” It isn’t an “if” in our English sense of the word, as though Satan was trying to make Jesus doubt his relationship to God. God affirmed when Jesus came up out of the Jordan.

Satan himself isn’t confused. He knew exactly who Jesus was.

The Greek text renders the word “if” more closely to our word “since.” “Since you are the Son of God, then”…why not do this instead of what you’ve been told you must do. This will be far less work. Far less pain. Far more glory and power.

What follows the “then” is a decision point where Jesus has to choose to be the one God called him to be. “Since you are the Son of God, then…”turn the stones to bread.” “…throw yourself down…” “…this can all be yours…”

Jesus’ entire life, his entire ministry, would be lived out against the backdrop of these decisions. The devil here is trying to get Jesus to move from the principle of dependence and trust in God. To do things his way.

It is the very essence of temptation for us as well. We face decision point after decision point attempting to get us to act on our own, independently of God and his indwelling spirit. “If you do this, Kirk, then…”

Let’s take a look at the decisions Jesus was asked to make.

You just think you’ve been hungry. Jesus had limited sustenance for almost six weeks. In one of the most understated bits of scripture the Bible tells us “…afterwards he was hungry.” The mere thought of turning a stone to a loaf of fresh baked bread makes me salivate right now. Imagine how Jesus felt when the temptation arose.

As miraculous as the temptation sounds, it rose out of a simple physical need. The temptation came because he was human and hungry, but that’s not really what the devil was saying. The implication is that God left him in the wilderness to starve. That God no longer cared.

That’s the way temptations come to us even today…through subtle suggestions that God could not possibly care for someone like me or you.

It’s the objection we hear to Christianity all the time. How could a loving God allow all this suffering in the world…war, famine, sickness. How could he let a child die? If there is a God, he must not care for us at all.

The devil suggested to Jesus that since God obviously didn’t care and since you are the Son of God, just take matters in your own hands. Meet your own needs independent of God.

It is the same decision you and I must make every day when faced with the choices laid out in front of us. Am I going to trust God or will I do my own thing. Answer my own questions. Make my own way.

Jesus’ response to temptation put life in its proper perspective. “Man shall not live on bread alone.” You see, our deepest need, my deepest need, is not physical. Not now, not ever.

My deepest need is to stay in right relationship with God. To trust. Making decisions based on my own will or by trusting in my own abilities comes at a cost to that relationship. Every single time.

If Satan can’t push you off one cliff, he’ll try to push you off another. After Jesus brushed off his attempt to use his physical needs against him, the devil targeted his soul. The devil couldn’t move Jesus away from this trust in the father, so he opted to put that trust to the test.

Taking Jesus to the highest rampart of the Temple, he said, “Throw yourself off.” Then, he quoted some scripture of his own suggesting that the angels would never let anything bad happen to him…not so much as a stubbed toe.

He said basically, “Do it and everyone will see how much you trust God and how you are willing to put yourself in danger for them. They’ll flock to you. What a spectacle it will be!”

As powerful as his miracles would prove to be, they were not enough to convince many of who he was. His greatest displays of faith came in the quiet trust of his heart that rested on what God had said and revealed to him time and time again. The things he did to stay the course. His trust and obedience to his Father’s will made the difference.

When Jesus spoke again, he chastised the devil. “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.” In other words, you can’t force God to act on your behalf. You can’t force him to change the conditions of life. That’s not the way faith works.

While it may not be as exciting as a swan dive from the top of the Temple, but a life lived obedient to God’s will, in his power and strength, provides the endurance and patience to deal with anything life throws your way…and to do it with joy.

As a last resort, the tempter took Jesus to a high mountain where he could see the world spread out below him in all its glory and beauty. Through subtle pretext and artful disguise, he said, “Worship me and I’ll give you authority over all of this.” The heart of the matter. “You will have power and will be exalted.”

Interestingly, Jesus came to win the world. To be Lord of all. To be exalted above all men so that “every knee would bow” and “every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord…” as it says in Philippians. It was seemingly being handed to him on a silver platter without the agony of the cross. Yet, to grasp the heart of it you have to finish reading the verse. “…to the glory of God.”

That last part is the kicker, isn’t it? It sounds good until you realize the power, authority and the exaltation that come with the devil’s offer is fruitless unless God receives the glory.

Jesus chose again the appropriate response. “Worship the Lord your God and serve him only.”

There lies the basis of our decision to set aside all that glitters and draws us away from God. To keep ourselves from being caught up in the quest for power and glory all our own. The only right decision is to worship and serve the Lord.

It’s such a heart thing to understand, as Stedman says, “To worship is to serve. To serve is to worship.” Only God gives any real value to life. The world can never give it. It is a decision that speaks to the deepest desires of the heart. To have a life that is worthwhile. To worship God only and to serve mankind on his behalf.

So, it seems to me these are the most important decisions I can make in the face of any temptation. Will I trust him? Will I be obedient? Will I worship and serve him? As it was for Jesus, my entire life is lived against the backdrop of these decisions. So is yours.

I’m drawn back to the beginning.

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.

Not with Di Vinci’s halo around his head, but wrapped in humanness to show us how to live as the men and woman God created men and women to be.

Temptations will come, but it’s less about the temptations than it is about the decisions we make when they come. Somewhere out in that desert above the Jordan River, Jesus set a pretty good example for all of us.

Ambassadors of Reconciliation

Background Passage: 2 Corinthians 5:14-21; Matthew 29: 19-20; Matthew 5:9

One can imagine the sense of trepidation felt by John Adams as he stood outside the chambers of England’s King George III in 1785 shortly after being appointed by President George Washington as the first United States Ambassador to Great Britain. Washington desired to restore the damaged relationship between the two countries and establish commercial ties by persuading Britain to open its ports to American goods.

In his writings prior to the Declaration of Independence, Adams said that George III had “plundered our seas, ravaged our coasts, burnt our towns and destroyed the lives of our people.”

Because of his past words and his personal involvement in the fight for independence, Adams was uncertain as to how he would be received by the king, Adams wrote to Secretary of State John Jay, “It is not to be expected that I should be cherished or beloved.”

Despite his misgivings, Adams accepted the appointment and traveled to England.

As he presented his credentials to the king, Adam’s offered a prepared introduction, expressing the hope that he could be an instrument in “restoring an entire esteem, confidence and affection—or, in better words, the old good nature and the old good humor between people, who, though separated by an ocean, and under different governments, have the same language, a similar religion and a kindred blood.”

The ensuing conversation leads to the first steps toward reconciliation between the United States and Great Britain. As the direct representative of the one who sent him, reconciliation of differences is often the first order of business of any ambassador from one country to another.

In our focal passage in 2 Corinthians, Paul said that as Christians “we are Christ’s ambassadors.” As a result of his experience on the road to Damascus, Paul felt commissioned by Christ to reconcile the differences between Christ and the world, especially the Gentile world, as his direct representative.

At the beginning of every ambassador’s tenure of service in a new country, the ambassador must meet with the country’s leader and present his or her credentials, his authority to speak on the leader’s behalf, just as Adams did with King George III.

Every Christian, according to Paul, carries the title of Christ’s ambassador. What are our credentials? What is our authority to speak on behalf of Christ?

Take a look at our scripture passage.

For Christ’s love compels us for we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore, all died. And he died for all, that those who live shall no longer live for themselves for him who died for them and was raised again.

So from now on we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, a new creation has come. The old is gone, the new is here.

All this is from God who has reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry to reconciliation: that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation. We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God was making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God. For God made him who had no sin to be sin for us so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. (2 Corinthians 5:14-21)

It is, Paul says, the love of Christ that compels us or urges us to persuade others that Christ died for the sins of the world. He died for all. That his sacrificial death leads us to live for him rather than ourselves…to offer others the opportunity to also live for Christ “who died for them and was raised again.”

We are able to do that, according to Paul, because we no longer see others through our eyes. As we live in Christ, we are transformed into something new, one with eyes that view the world through the eyes of Christ.

Paul’s Damascus experience shaped him into a new creation. His physical blindness an apt metaphor for his spiritual blindness. He could no longer see Jesus as he did before. Now, when he opened his eyes, he saw the price Christ paid for Paul’s life and gave him a new life reconciled with God through his relationship with Jesus Christ.

To find our credentials as an ambassador of Christ, we need look no further than his great love that led him to the cross and the change he has made in our lives as the old gives way to this new creation within us. This is our authority from God to speak words of reconciliation to a lost world.

It does us little good if we never extend those credentials to those to whom God has sent us. If Adams had stayed in France rather than taking a boat to England when commissioned as an ambassador, his ability to restore the relationship between the United States and Britain would have been compromised. So it is with our call to be Christ’s ambassador. If we fail to take our commission into the world, we limit our effectiveness as Christ’s representative.

If that makes sense, then what is our mission? Jesus gave us our marching orders in Matthew 28:19-20.

Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely, I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

Jesus called us to make disciples and teach them a life of obedience to the commands of Christ. Paul took the Great Commission and further defined it as the ministry of reconciliation.

Washington sent Adams to restore the relationship between the U.S. and Britain. To re-establish the trade and commerce between the nations. That was his message of reconciliation.

Christ sends us into the world, according to Paul, with a message of unparalleled importance. That God reconciled the world through Christ’s death for the purpose of not holding the world’s sins against them. Christ took my sin and yours upon himself. Offered his life as atonement or payment for our sin. That, Paul says, is the message of reconciliation. That’s the word we are to share as his ambassadors.

I love the conviction and emotion that I can hear in what Paul wrote. Look at verse 20-21 and hear the sense of urgency and longing in Paul’s voice.

We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled with God…become the righteousness of God.

Think with me about this idea of reconciliation. It is not a complicated message. It is grounded in the very real death and resurrection of Christ. It is about Jesus. We can share our testimony. We can talk about sin and forgiveness and throw in a smattering of heaven and hell. Until we talk about Jesus and what he did for you and me, we’re missing the core of the gospel story.

In this passage, Paul talked about how his opinion of Jesus changed. Paul once opposed Christ, seeking to imprison or kill his followers. When Paul encountered the risen Christ, all that changed. When he understood the purpose and meaning of the death and resurrection of Jesus, it changed the way he saw Jesus and it changed the way he saw everything and everyone else. The message of reconciliation is about Jesus and his love for us…his desire for us to be made new and made right with God.

It’s the difference in a caterpillar and a butterfly. The metamorphosis within the chrysalis turns the thing that was once grounded into a new creature that can now fly. God took the initiative through Christ to give us that path back to him. To provide a way to restore the broken relationship. To take what was wrong in our relationship to God and make it whole and right again. To make the old us into a new us.

That’s why Paul’s words sound so desperate when he urges us to be reconciled with God. He knows what is at stake for the lost soul.

That takes care of the relationship between us and God, but the ministry of reconciliation has one more facet to consider. I thought about this last week as I taught a lesson on the Beatitudes.

The Beatitudes unveil the character demanded of those who desire to be a part of the kingdom of God. It speaks of the poor in spirit, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. And, it speaks of the peacemakers.

Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called the sons of God. (Matthew 5:9)

The kingdom of God is a kingdom of peace and yet we are too often at war with one another. Unreconciled with each other. The broken relationships, the societal divisions, the political acrimony, the racial bigotry drive a wedge between God’s people and the rest of the world, It can also drive a wedge between God’s people when we aren’t right with him.

Blessedness or Contentment comes to those who find ways of bringing people together in the love of Christ, reconciling others to God and to one another. These are the peacemakers. The reconcilers. This statement promises the peacemakers will be called “Sons of God.”

I hope that makes sense to you because I like that connection. We are called into this ministry of reconciliation as his ambassadors, his peacemakers, to bring people into right relationship with God through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ. We can’t do that That ministry is made more difficult if we’re not right with one another. Blessed are those who are peacemakers and work to bring people together as one in the body of Christ.

Washington entrusted Adams with a mission of great importance to the future of our country. God entrusts an even greater mission to his ambassadors.

This is a world that needs to be reconciled to God through Christ. A world that needs to hear our message of reconciliation: That Jesus died on the cross and was raised to new life for the sins of every man, woman and child. They must hear about Jesus. That all one has to do to be reconciled to God is to seek his forgiveness, turn away from the sin in his life and accept Jesus as Lord and savior.

For those who have not placed faith and trust in Christ, hear the urgency in Paul’s voice: Be reconciled to God.

For those of us who have made that personal decision, maybe it’s time we accept his commission as an ambassador to the world by embracing this ministry and message of reconciliation.

It’s my prayer that we might become ambassadors of reconciliation.

Gold, Frankincense & Myrrh

Background Passages: Matthew 2:1-12

They have been called, throughout history, magi, wise men, astrologers and kings. While a great many of these royal counselors were sycophants and charlatans trying to stay in good graces with their kings, some were, indeed, learned men, scholars, faithful royal counselors.

Scripture typically paints an ugly picture of astrology, often mocking those who practiced the pseudo-science. (See Jeremiah 8:2 or Isaiah 47:13-15) It is somewhat remarkable that men of this ill-considered standing within the Jewish community found their way to the Bethlehem home of Mary and Joseph, intent upon laying their gifts at the feet of the newborn king of Judea.

Some biblical scholars suggest that God reversed the normal Jewish expectations and drew the stargazers to Judea to open the door, just a crack, for his desire to call Gentiles to Jesus.

Popular images of the magi clash with Matthew’s account. The Christmas hymn We Three Kings gives them titles they did not earn. They were counselors, not kings.

While the travelers from the East brought three gifts, the exact number of wise men who came is not revealed. What is clear in scripture is their numbers were sufficiently large and their quest so politically charged, given Herod’s insecurities, that it clearly created a disturbance throughout Jerusalem.

After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, magi from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, “Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and came to worship him.” When King Herod heard this, he was disturbed and all of Jerusalem with him. (Matthew 2:1-3)

The thought of a new king in the pipeline was an anathema to the paranoid Herod, but it drew a murmur of hope among the Jewish people eager to have a king to push out the Roman occupiers.

It’s a story you know because we see it played out in every Nativity scene. After their visit to the palace, the wise men journeyed on a few more miles to Bethlehem. There they found the toddler Jesus and his parents who had escaped the stable and found more permanent residence in a small house in the village.

On coming to the house, they saw the child with his mother Mary, and they bowed down to worship him. Then, they opened their treasures and presented him with gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. (Matthew 2:11)

Throughout history, giving gifts to a king was a long-standing practice. It served as a sign of respect and honor given to one who bore the title and responsibilities of king.

I Kings tells us that the Queen of Sheba brought a caravan of gifts to the newly crowned King Solomon in Israel.

And she gave the king 120 talents of gold, large quantities of spices and precious stones. Never again were so many spices brought in as those the Queen of Sheba gave to King Solomon. (I Kings 10:10)

Within Isaiah’s bold predictions about the coming Messiah, he speaks of these gifts.

They will bring gold and frankincense and proclaim the praises of the Lord. (Isaiah 60:6b)

Though I find them interesting, it’s not the magi who intrigued me this week, but their gifts. Gold. Frankincense. Myrrh.

If Matthew, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, took the time to specifically record the gifts, there must be a reason why. Each gift, according to folks smarter than me, matched some characteristic of Jesus and his work.

Gold has always been a precious and valuable metal. Gold was made into crowns, stamped and made into coins to be used as currency, and shaped into jewelry. The wise men brought gifts to a king. We can see the connection between gold for a king and Jesus as the King of Kings. They worshipped him as such.

What about the frankincense? Why is this one of their chosen gifts? Frankincense was used by Jewish priests in temple worship and burned as a sweet offering to God. It may be symbolic of the High Priest role Jesus assumes in our hearts. It is also a gift of worship, recognizing Jesus’ divine nature. Seeing him as one worthy of worship, honor and praise.

Then, there is the myrrh, a perfume connected with death and used in the burial process. In Mark, myrrh, mixed with wine, is offered to Jesus as he languishes on the cross. When the women who followed Jesus went to the tomb on that Easter morning to anoint his body, they carried myrrh with them.

While it is an odd gift to give a child, scholars see it as a hint toward Jesus’ sacrificial death. A gift to anoint his body in preparation for burial.

The scholars are probably right to share what those gifts meant symbolically for Christ. As our King of Kings. As one worthy of worship and praise. As one who came to give his life for the salvation of all who would believe.

The gifts point to who Jesus is. How he would live. What he would ultimately do for all of us.

Still, you know me, I read outside the box and between the lines. My journey to Jesus was not as arduous as the one experienced by the magi thanks to the godly examples of my Mom and Dad.

Though I came to him from West Texas, I still must come to him bearing gifts. If Jesus reigns as my King of Kings, what “gold, frankincense and myrrh” can I bring to him today?

What is my gold?

I could speak of tithes and offerings…returning to God a financial portion of that with which he has blessed me and my family. While I need to do that, I think it’s more than just that.

Gold was that thing valued most in the ancient world. A precious gift fit for a king. Bringing gifts of gold acknowledged the kingship of the one who sat on the throne. Maybe my gold is my willingness to declare Jesus as savior. Not just in that initial faith decision, but in the choice to make him the daily boss of my life. To yield and surrender my will to his each and every day. To declare him my Lord and king.

Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it. For what good will it be for someone to gain the whole world but forfeit his soul. (Matthew 16:24-26a)

This is the first nugget of gold I present to Jesus—my heart, my life presented to Christ as I declare him Lord. It is not, however, my last golden gift. Once I declare Jesus as Lord, I give him a life of devotion and obedience.

Do not offer any part of yourself to sin as an instrument of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God as those who are brought from death to life and offer every part of yourself to him as an instrument of righteousness. For sin shall no longer be your master because you are not under the law, but under grace. (Romans 6:13-14)

This is the second nugget of gold to lay at the savior’s feet—that the life I offer him becomes an instrument of righteousness.

What Jesus told his disciples and what Paul declared to the Romans is pure gold for my life today. Gold any wise man would give to the Christ-child this Christmas.

What is my frankincense?

The gift of frankincense is about worship, honor and praise. God breathes the sweet aroma of my frankincense when I spend quality time with him. Do I spend time studying his Word and learning how his word applies to my life circumstances? Do I have the kind of conversations with him that reveal my heart and take the time to listen to his spirit? Does my time at church in fellowship with other believers and my time in fellowship with the world around me point always to God? Is the time I give him quality time in devotion and service to him?

This frankincense attitude is the message Paul left with the Ephesians. We give our time and energy to God because he will take that time and do so much more than we think possible. It is to his glory and honor and praise.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all the generations, forever and ever, Amen (Ephesians 3:21-22)

You see, worship is never about us. It is not whether I enjoy the music or the sermon. Worship is about giving glory, honor and praise to God with our whole being…heart, mind, body and soul. It’s about listening for his word, allowing it to make a difference in how we live and treat others.

What better way to worship him and give glory to his name than to walk in his ways? To set aside my own will for his will. To no longer think or act as the world does, but to change my mind and heart to mirror the mind and heart of God.

Therefore, I urge you, my brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice—holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then, you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. (Romans 12:1-3)

Presenting my all as a living sacrifice is my frankincense offering to the one who has given me everything.

What, then, is my myrrh?

The myrrh given by the magi represented the sacrificial life and death of Jesus. His great sacrifice of love.

You see, the other gifts of gold and frankincense…my commitment to Christ as savior, my decision to follow him, my choice to worship him in every aspect of life…will be less meaningful if my life is not lived in sacrificial love…my myrrh. Paul says to live without love for God and others is a “clanging cymbal.” All noise. No substance.

The myrrh I give my Jesus means to pour myself unselfishly into the lives of others. To love unconditionally and sacrificially. It is the way Paul chose to serve.

Even if I am to be poured out as a drink offering upon the sacrificial offering of your faith, I am glad and rejoice with you all. Likewise, you also should be glad and rejoice with me. (Philippians 2:17)

Like Paul, our labor for Christ….our gift of myrrh to him…is to pour ourselves into the lives of fellow believers and non-believers. To love them in ways that open the doors for them to come to know Christ as savior and to serve him faithfully.

This is our gift of myrrh.

Committing our life to Christ, worshipping him as one worthy of our praise and adoration and loving unconditionally, without reservation, requires sacrifice of our own desires, our own time, our own energy and effort. It is not easy. The cost of such discipleship is high. Jesus said as much.

Here’s the deal, though. When we give our gold, frankincense and myrrh to Jesus, he does the heavy lifting for us. He offers rest.

Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. (Matthew 11:28-20)

The wise men laid their precious gifts at the feet of a two-year-old child in a hovel of a home in Bethlehem, worshipping him as the king.

Their example poses a question for you and for me.

Will you bring your gold, frankincense and myrrh to Jesus?

Peace and Goodwill

Background Passages: Luke 2:9-14; Philippians 2:5-8; Ephesians 2:8; John 14:27; Isaiah 26:3; Philippians 4:11-13

You may know Henry Wadsworth Longfellow as the author of The Song of Hiawatha or Paul Revere’s Ride. One of America’s best and most prolific poets, Longfellow penned many poems, novels and anthologies. I found out recently that he also translated many European literary works into English, including Dante’s The Divine Comedy.

Like many poets, Longfellow experienced his fair share of tragedy. His first wife, Mary Potter, died suddenly while he was overseas. After a long courtship, he married Mary Frances Appleton in 1843. Together, they had six children. By all accounts, the marriage was a happy one until Frances died tragically in a fire in 1861.

With the outbreak of the American Civil war, Longfellow became a stout abolitionist. His oldest son, Charley enlisted on the Union side only to be wounded severely. In December of 1863, Longfellow found himself entering the Christmas season as a widower, with five dependent children and his oldest son on the brink of death.

As he tended to his son’s wounds, imagining the sounds of gunfire and cannon that injured him, he heard the bells of the local church ringing on Christmas morning. Longfellow sat down that evening, intent upon losing himself for a few hours in his writing. The result of that late night session was a poem entitled, I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day. Throughout the poem, the poet seemed to believe that the strife of the world had drowned out all hope of peace on earth and driven out any semblance of goodwill toward men.

Until he penned the last verse.

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
“God is not dead, nor doth he sleep;”
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, goodwill to men.

A few years later, the poem was set to music by British organist John Baptiste Calkin, becoming the familiar Christmas carol we know today.

The song, particularly the version sung by Casting Crowns, is beautifully poignant, confronting us of the turmoil of our world while also reminding us that God, through his son, offers peace and goodwill to a troubled world. Luke, the gospel writer, introduces the phrase to us in his account of the birth of Jesus. However, I might suggest to Longfellow that the phrase does not mean what you thought it meant.

When the angels sang their praise, they were not exalting God for bringing about the absence of conflict and harmony among all people. They were praising the father for his steps in bringing about, as Paul says in Philippians 4:7, “a peace that surpasses all understanding.”

Let’s take a closer look at the story as it develops.

After Mary gave birth in the dingy confines of a cave turned stable, God sent an angel…one angel…to announce the birth of his son to shepherds tending their flock in the hills overlooking Bethlehem.

An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.” (Luke 2:9-12)

It is after this initial explanation that the angelic host appeared singing in heavenly harmony.

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying, “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.” (Luke 2:13-14)

Longfellow and the King James Version deeply ingrained the phrase as “peace on earth, goodwill toward men.” The New International Version of the phrase I used here reads differently. However, it is possibly more accurate to the original Greek, according to biblical scholars.

“Glory to God in the highest heaven and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.”

Amid his tragic circumstances, I’m not sure peace and goodwill meant the same thing to Longfellow as it did to Luke. As we enter this season of advent, maybe it’s a good idea for us to consider what the angels proclaimed to the shepherds with such joy and happiness.

First, the object of their apparent joy was not the anticipated peace and goodwill, but God who reigns in the highest heaven. By sending his son as a baby born in a lowly manger, God finally put in motion his path of redemption which he had planned before he breathed life into his creation.

Jesus, God’s son, would live his life among us, demonstrating how we are to live the life that God envisioned for us, ultimately giving his life in exchange for my sin and yours.

As Paul is urging the Philippians to model their lives after Christ, he tells them:

…have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on the cross.” (Philippians 2:5-8)

The angels recognized that the child born in Bethlehem was God’s great gift to a lost and troubled world. It would be this baby wrapped in cloth and resting in a manager filled with hay that would through his life, death and resurrection make joy of salvation available and attainable by all people. (See Luke 2:10)

For God so loved the world that he gave his only son that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life. (John 3:16)

It was this act of great love and grace that brought the angels to their feet in rising chorus to give all the glory and praise to a Father/God for what he had just done. The cries of a child in Bethlehem still reverberate through the lives of all who believe.

Glory to God in the highest heaven!

I was reminded again of the beauty of that gift when my eight-year-old granddaughter Lena called us over Facetime to tell us that she had made her faith commitment to Jesus. As I took in the expression of joy on her smiling face, I could hear the angels sing.

Glory to God in the highest heaven, indeed! For every man, woman and child who trusts Jesus as savior, the angels still sing God’s praise. Jesus told us as much in his parable of the lost coin.

In the same way, I tell you, there is rejoicing in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents. (Luke 15:10)

While the heavens were praising God, the angels acknowledged the peace now available to those who find favor with God. That’s an important distinction. The angel who first appeared to the shepherds told them a child was born in Bethlehem who would be the long-anticipated Messiah. He announced it as good news of great joy to all people. The Messiah. Sent by God. Making salvation available to anyone and everyone.

However, peace is the gift offered to those “on whom his (God’s) favor rests.”

Good news offered to all. Peace offered only to those on whom his favor rests. It begs the question then, on whom does God’s favor rest? God’s favor rests on “whoever believes in him,” according to John 3:16. This is the gospel message that the angels shared. This is the good news.

For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not of your own doing, but it is the gift of God. (Ephesians 2:8)

I see a connection here through the definition of grace I learned as a teenager. Grace is defined as God’s unmerited or undeserved favor. When I put my faith and trust in Jesus, I entered into right relationship with God only by his grace. Only when he extended this unmerited favor to me upon my faith commitment to him.

Because that grace was extended, because God rests his favor upon me, I find his promised peace. It’s the same peace Jesus promised his disciples in the upper room before he was crucified.

Peace I leave with you. My peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” (John 14:27)

Every person in this world, whether or not he or she is a believer in Christ, longs for peace. The difference in the peace of a believer and a nonbeliever is where they acquire their peace. A nonbeliever depends on his own resourcefulness or his own resources. He seeks peace through social causes, financial gain or temporary distractions.

Believers find peace not from things the world offers, but from God. Where earthly peace depends on circumstances and individual ability, godly peace does not. God’s peace proclaimed and promised by the angels singing to shepherds transcends our circumstances.

We live lives that can in one moment be divine and in the next be dreadful. The peace God provides goes beyond those up and down seasons of life. This ability to find contentment, to live in the moment in the joy of Christ, regardless of life’s circumstance is completely dependent upon the depth of our faith and trust in God’s presence and promise.

Look at what Isaiah said.

You (God) will keep the mind that is dependent on you in perfect peace, for it is trusting in you. (Isaiah 26:3)

God will keep our hearts and minds at peace when we remain dependent upon him in all things by trusting in him through all things. Peace is not surrendering to the circumstance. Peace is surrendering everything in every circumstance to God. Trusting that he will be with us always…even when we “walk through the valley of the shadow of death.”

Paul addressed the issue in his letter to the Philippian church.

I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. 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. I can do all this through him who gives me strength. (Philippians 4: 11-13)

We find peace and contentment only when we know that God will give us the strength we need to live faithfully in any and every situation. It comes when we listen to the words of Jesus when he says, “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” When he says, “Do not be afraid.”

I’m certain you will read the Christmas story this year or have it read to you. I pray that you will not only hear the angels singing to the shepherds, but that you will join them in giving glory to God in the highest heaven for through his son he gives peace to those on whom his favor rests.

As he listened to those bells on Christmas day, Longfellow understood one thing when faced with all the hardships he encountered. “God is not dead, nor does he sleep.” Because he is ever with us, we can give Glory to God on high for the miraculous gift of his son Jesus. The one who brings peace to those on whom his favor rests. To all who believe in his name.

What’s in a Name?

Background Passages: Luke 1: 28-33; Matthew 1:20-23; John 1:1-14; and Philippians 2:6-8

Parents have some options when it comes to naming their children. They can run with family names, names of cultural significance, or simple alliterative names or nicknames that sound good together. They have choices.

I try to help when I can.

When my cousins Paul and Robbie Jo started their family, I suggested Wyatt, as in Earp, and Walker, as in “Texas Ranger.” It took a few years, but Wyatt eventually made the cut.

When my nephew and niece were expecting their second child, I had a dream that Amy gave birth in a school library. Naturally, I suggested Dewey, as in “decimal system.” It’s hard to believe they went with James.

Before my grandson Eli became Eli, Adam pushed hard from some rather unorthodox options. My first-born grandson could have been Theodore Roosevelt Lewis…or Gilgamesh Lewis…Archimedes, Hannibal or Atila Lewis. I know I would have loved him despite the historical or scientific references, but I’m glad he’s Eli.

In her Shakespearean soliloquy, Juliet, pondered “What’s in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.”

Juliet’s love for Romeo was imperiled by the family feud between the Montagues and Capulets. Juliet lamented that she would have chosen a different name for either her or Romeo because any other name would smell as sweet and enable them to openly marry. She didn’t have that choice, however.

“What’s in a name?” asks Juliet.

As we transition from Thanksgiving to Christmas, it’s a great question.

With her heart and mind racing, Mary heard the news from an angel that she would have a baby. A most unexpected child, both in conception and timing. Pledged to be married to Joseph, a local builder, Mary and her family were making plans for a wedding day a few months down the road. Before the marriage was consummated, an angel appeared with a surprising word.

“Greetings, you who are highly favored! The Lord is with you.”

Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be. But the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary. You have found favor with God. You will conceive and give birth to a son, and you are to call him Jesus. He will be great and will be called the Son of the Most High. The Lord God will give him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over Jacob’s descendants forever. His kingdom will never end.” (Luke 1:28-33)

It’s difficult to understand the depth of faith it took to accept all that the angel told her, but Mary gave herself in obedience to what she had heard. After finding a way to break the news to Joseph, the angel had another bewildered and troubled soul to soothe. Joseph, as honorable a man as one could hope to meet, considered the tough decision to dissolve their relationship quietly, giving Mary options to avoid the scorn that would surely come.

He agonized over the decision into the night until the angel came with words or reassurance.

“Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because what is conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”

All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet. “The virgin shall conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means, “God with us.”). (Mattthew 1:20-23)

What’s in the name Jesus?

There are many names or titles given to Jesus throughout scripture. Isaiah ran an impressive list of descriptors of the one who would come to save.

He will be called Wonderful Counselor. Mighty God. Everlasting Father. Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:6)

Jeremiah refers to the coming “King who will reign wisely” and shares that “This is the name by which he will be called, ‘The Lord is our Righteousness.’”

The descriptors tell us how Jesus would relate to us in our times of need…As counselor amid our troubles. As an all-powerful God amid our weakness. As an eternal father amid our loneliness. As the giver of true contentment and peace amid life’s turmoil. These descriptors speak to his work among us, but the titles don’t tell us much about who he is.

What’s in the name Jesus? Why did God have the angel so strongly make the point that the baby already had a name chosen by his father in heaven since the beginning of time itself? Why were they to call him Jesus.

There is nothing holy or sacred about the arrangement of letters or the phonetic sounds associated with the name of Jesus. Depending on the language one speaks, the name will not sound the same. When it was shared with Mary and Joseph, it was a fairly common name in Judea and Galilee.

Jesus is an English rendering of the Greek name “Iesous,” which is a translation of the ancient Hebrew “Yehoshua.” We see it written also in the English Old Testament as “Joshua.” Jesus. Iesous. Yehoshua. Joshua.

Whether written in English, Greek or Hebrew, the name of Jesus is formed from Hebraic roots suggesting “Jehovah is salvation.” There’s the first hint of who he is. He isn’t some form of salvation. He is salvation personified. While the message would not have been lost on Mary, it was clearly given to Joseph who was told to name him Jesus because “he will save his people from their sins.”

How could this child soon to be born to Mary and Joseph be salvation? How is it possible for this baby to be salvation and ultimately how is it possible for him to achieve what he was sent to do?

Mary and Joseph get this word as well.

While Mary was told to call the baby Jesus, other people will know him as and call him “the Son of the Most High.” Jesus. God’s son. Conceived in her by God’s spirit. Given to her and Joseph to love, care and teach. Make no mistake, though, he is God’s son. While the angel told Joseph to call the child Jesus, he said others will call him Immanuel, “God with us.”

This idea is the message of Christmas found in the gospel of John and reinforced by Paul in his letter to the Philippians.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God…The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:1-14)

“Who, being in very nature god, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even to death on the cross! (Philippians 2:6-8)

As we end today in the shadow of Thanksgiving and the dawn of the coming Christmas, I find great joy in the name of Jesus. I am thankful to God for sending his son into the world.

Though his life lived 2000 years ago looked markedly different than the life I live today, so much of it still rings the same. The same worries. The same temptations. The same heartaches. The same joys. The same relationships. I’m grateful that through his life he still teaches me how to live. Such remembrance makes this a Happy Thanksgiving.

I find such hope for this Christmas season in the birth of the one God sent as Jesus…the one he promised from the beginning to be our source of salvation. One whose very name reminds me that Jehovah saves. The Son of the Most High. Immanuel. God’s son. God with us. God’s son would be with us.

I find in the name of Jesus the promise of another very Merry Christmas.

A Hidden Treasure

Background Passages: I Chronicles 4:9-10; Jeremiah 33:3

The Antiques Road Show on PBS has become our default television program when there is absolutely nothing else to watch. If you’re not familiar with the show, hopeful people bring an item to an appraiser in hopes that what looks like a throw-away might actually be treasure.

I find most intriguing the items bought in a garage sale or sitting in the family attic for years. Some pieces are trash. Some pieces prove to be worth far more than expected.

On one recent program, a Corpus Christi family brought in a painting that hung behind a utility room door at his parents’ home for decades. Purchased in Mexico around 1930, the artist was a teenaged Diego Rivera, who would become one of the most influential Latin American painters of the 20th century.

Purchased for pesos, the painting was appraised at the Antique Road Show for $1 million.

It may be a lesson for everyone who bought one of my recent watercolors for a paltry amount. Hang it behind a door in your utility room, but don’t let your grandkids throw it away. It might be worth something 75 years after I’m gone. Another garage sale throw-away that turns out to be a hidden treasure.

I suppose that’s why I’m also drawn to the parenthetical tidbits I discover in scripture…those short, almost throw away passages hidden within the context of a broader story. I often find that the small tidbit becomes spiritual treasure.

I discovered another of those gems this week as I glanced through the early chapters of I Chronicles. Buried in the middle of a list of begats and begots that begin with Adam and end with David, you’ll find a parenthetical statement about a man named Jabez…a prayer of a righteous man hidden among the branches of an extended family tree between the sons of Helah and the sons of Kelub.

Jabez was more honorable than his brothers. His mother had named him Jabez, saying, “I gave birth to him in pain.” Jabez cried out to the God of Israel, “Oh that you would bless me and enlarge my territory. Let your hand be with me and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain.” And God granted his request. (I Chronicles 4:9-10)

While this scriptural insert tells us a little about Jabez, it tells us more about God. It tells us of the connection between the man and the God who blessed him. I find it instructive in my life.
Within these two verses, one can find three characteristics of the kind of life that a gracious God chooses to bless.

First, we see that God blesses those who walk the path of righteousness.

Jabez was more honorable than his brothers.

Little else is known of Jabez or his family, but clearly his brothers missed the mark set by those recording the genealogy. Their lives served as a footnote to the spiritual maturity of their brother. The honor attributed to Jabez seems spiritual in nature…not so much in the physical, financial, social or political realms.

Jabez was a godly man whose moral character, convictions and conduct stood out from those around him. Jabez was honorable, living his life in right relationship with God.

Honorable doesn’t mean perfect. However, if God had a spiritual destination in mind for Jabez…an idea of who he was now, growing into the man God wanted him to be…Jabez was headed in the right direction. He walked a path marked by righteousness.

David could have been talking about Jabez when he opened his Book of Psalms.

Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners, nor sits in the seat of scoffers; but his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night. He is like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither. In all that he does, he prospers. (Psalm 1:1-3)

Jabez chose to ignore the advice of men who lived only for themselves. He chose to avoid the life of intentional sin. He refused to mock God or those around him. Rather, he found joy thinking about and living according to the law of God. As a result, his impact on others yielded fruit of the spirit, finding success in the work God called him to do. Jabez was honorable.

The passage shows us that God blesses those who remain faithful through the pain life brings.

Did you catch the meaning of his name? In the Hebrew culture of the day, a male child received his name when he was circumcised eight days after he was born. It must have been an extraordinarily painful childbirth for his loving mother to give him a name that means “pain,” “grief,” of “suffering.”

The name evidently proved a predictor of the hardships experienced in his life. That his brothers were less honorable might tell us that Jabez suffered hardship at the hands of his family. Maybe he had to assume debt his brothers incurred. Maybe their dishonesty brought shame on the family name. Perhaps Jabez endured health issues that impacted his ability to live as he desired. I’m guessing he struggled and suffered in much the same way we do.

Whatever the cause of his suffering throughout his life, we see in vs. 10 Jabez prays that God would protect him from harm so he would finally be “free of pain.” He longs for a time when pain and hardship are behind him.

God has a way of blessing a life scarred with pain. The Rev. H. B. Charles, Jr., wrote that “Candles must be burned in order to give light. Wheat must be ground to make bread,” he added. “We must experience some pain to experience true blessedness.”

Turning to the Psalmist again we find these words.

It is good for me I was afflicted, that I might learn your statutes. (Psalm 119:71)

Charles wrote, “Pain is not the blessing, but it sets us up for blessing.” Puts us in position to be blessed. Opens our hearts to the lessons God can teach us through our experiences.

The final trait in the life of Jabez shows that God chooses also to bless the life of the one who talks to God regularly about the concerns of their hearts.

Jabez was a godly man with more than his share of pain throughout his life. In the middle of all of that, he prayed for God’s blessing. He talked to the source of all blessing.

Can’t you relate to Jabez? Scripture does not praise him for the things the world values. Things like wisdom, strength or wealth. Jabez is not celebrated for being gifted or accomplished. We’re not even told what made him honorable or the depth of pain he experienced. Scripture singles him out simply as a man who prayed for that which God laid on his heart.

You see, Jabez learned what we all need to learn. God answers prayer. Prayer is our connection to God who wants nothing more than to bless his people.

The famed pastor Charles Spurgeon said, “Prayer is the slender nerve that moves the hand of omnipotence.” We receive our greatest blessings after we pray within his will. For his blessing in my life, not my blessing.

This obscure snippet about Jabez teaches us a little about the life God chooses to bless. It also tells us that God’s blessings come in the form of his provision, his presence and his protection.

Look at what Jabez asked of God.

Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory. Let your hand be with me and keep me from harm so I will be free of pain.

Jabez asked that God’s favor would fall on him (bless me) and his situation (enlarge my borders). God knows what we’re going through. God cares about our struggles, needs, dreams and fears. Just as Jabez prayed believing that God was ready, willing and able to answer his heart’s cry, we, too, need to pray for God’s provision with expectation of his blessing.

I initially read the passage and thought Jabez was praying for greater territory and wealth. One commentary suggested his honor would have precluded that. The writer suggested that the enlarged border would strengthen the influence of Jabez to share of his relationship to God.

That makes some sense to me. As God continues to bless us, we ought to be using all he provides to extend our influence with others as a way of testifying to the world of God’s love for them through Jesus Christ. To ask him to give us a platform to share the grace of a loving God.

Jabez asked also for the blessing of God’s presence.

Let your hand be with me…

It is a sentence that speaks to the powerful presence of God in his life. As such it complements the previous request for his expanded influence. Jabez wisely knew that God’s provision and his presence presents a problem. Incapable of managing God’s provision on our own, we need his presence and power.

It’s the Psalmist again who reinforces this truth.

Let your hand be ready to help me, for I have chosen your precepts. (Psalm 119:173)

Finally, God’s blessing is found in his protection.

…keep me from harm so I will be free of pain.

One commentary suggest that a more apt translation of the Hebrew is to “Keep me from doing wrong so I might not cause suffering in my life and the life of others.” In other words, protect me, God, from me. My own bad choices. My own hardheadedness. My own ego. Keep me from hurting myself and those you love.

What a blessing of protection that would be?

Every little segment of Antiques Road Show ends with the appraiser sharing with the owner what his “find” is worth. More often than not, during the show, the owner is overwhelmed by the moment when the throw-away item becomes treasure.

We may attempt to live an honorable life. Not perfect, but over the course of life walking in the general direction God desires for us. We may remain faithful through the inevitable suffering. We may even engage in the kind of deep conversations with God concerning the desires of our heart. Those things open the doors to God’s blessings.

The real treasure I needed to discover this week is found in vs. 10. Look at it.

And God granted his request.

You see, the point is not so much that Jabez was honorable, that he experienced the same kind of pain we experience or even that he prayed. The real treasure is that God answered his prayer…just as he will answer ours.

I’m grateful for a man pulled from the pages of obscurity to remind me that God is a God who looks for every chance he can to bless me with is provision, presence and protection.

I find rest in that thought and the words of God to the prophet Jeremiah.

Call to me and I will answer you and will tell you great and hidden things that you have not known. (Jeremiah 33:3)

Way to go, Jabez!

Praise God from whom all blessings flow!