No, I have not become a snake handler. But I did think that the title might catch your attention. There are those people (in faraway places) who are snake handlers or snake charmers, some might call them. The picture that comes to my mind is the little man sitting cross legged in front of a basket playing a flute. As he plays, a snake, usually a cobra, slowly uncoils itself out of the basket swaying back and forth to the beautiful music, to the amazement of the crowd surrounding the man. Then, slowly, deliberately, the little man continues his song as the snake winds itself neatly back into the basket.
That’s a lot more impressive than a man picking up what he thinks is a stick only to find that it is a snake. That man will scream, throw it down and run away. That’s just downright scary. Welcome to Exodus 3.
What’s with the staff and snake thing in Exodus?
Not long ago, actually it was about four years ago, Phil and I noticed that the face boards over the garage were peeling. Typically, we ignored it. We wanted it to get really ugly before we did anything. So, we mentioned it to each other and promptly did nothing. This spring, as I moseyed up the driveway, I again noticed the peeling paint and knew that we needed to do something. Ignoring it was not making it go away. So, I took the step of going to the local paint store, buying a paint color with a ridiculous name much too big and grand for its purposes. Of course, as soon as I took got home, I didn’t like it. So the paint sat and the face boards and trim on the house continued to peel and look bad. For two weeks I was paralyzed with the fear of putting paint on our house and not liking it. What if everyone in the neighborhood also hated the color? What if our daughter who is very color conscious and design savvy also hated the color? Would she be too embarrassed to invite her friends home? What if my husband’s boss came over and fired Phil over the color of our trim paint? You can see why the color selection kept me awake at night. One day as I was walking, I noticed the successful color selection prowess of everyone else in the development. I was amazed at how well everyone else could select the exactly perfect colors to enhance the beauty and value of their home. So, I prayed for a color selection anointing. You may be shocked to know that I did not receive it. Instead, I heard the following verse in my head “What is that in your hand?” I was a little stunned taken aback by the question, since I knew that God knew what was in my hand regarding the desire for the color selection anointing. “Uh, I have a paintbrush and a gallon of customized paint called ‘butternut’ which I cannot return and cost me $34.00.” Harrumph. “Just use it. You will never find the perfect paint color unless the paint name is “perfect color for face boards over the garage and trim.” Just use it.” So I did. I used the paint in our garage and guess what? I really like the paint color and though I have visited the same unmentioned paint store probably 25 times since then, I haven’t felt the strong urge to repaint the house. And no, my husband wasn’t fired over the color of our house, our daughter has even invited friends over to our house, no one in the neighborhood has moved because of the color selection, even with the butternut colored trim.
What’s the lesson I learned? Use what is in your hand.
Moses was on the cusp (although he did not know the extent of it) of the biggest assignment of his life. He had an idea that it was big and he had an idea that it was bigger than him, otherwise he would not have argued so much with the Lord. He gets the invitation to approach the living God through the burning bush. Then he hears the voice of God Himself say “I love my people, I have heard their cry, I remember my promises to them and I’m here to answer their cry. So now you go.” Moses was tracking with God all the way up to “now you go.” But the more God talked about the people, the king of Egypt, the bondage, the king of Egypt, four hundred years of slavery, the king of Egypt, the weight of the covenant, the king of Egypt, the more Moses began to realize that he was getting enmeshed with the very plans and purposes of the God of the universe and it was scary. “They won’t believe me or even listen to me.”
God’s answer to Moses is very interesting. “It’s not about your credibility Moses, nor is it about your persuasive skills. It’s about what I am doing through you.” So, He asks Moses, knowing all along what the answer is: “what is that in your hand?” To his credit, Moses does not pull the eleven year old boy trick and answer “nothing.” “A staff,” he replied.” (Exodus 4:2) Of course it is a staff! Moses is a shepherd. He was out doing his shepherding thing. He was out minding his own business, doing what he had chosen to do in Midian, and the thing he was doing well, when he suddenly saw the burning bush. The thing in his hand was the tool of his trade.
Then comes the part we learned about in Sunday school: the staff is turned into a snake. So the tool of Moses’ trade becomes a thing that sheep would fear. It was scary enough that it turned into something from which Moses himself ran. And, probably everyone else would run away from as well. Sometimes the thing in our hand is frightening. At God’s command, the ordinary tool of our trade can become something fearsome to those around us and to us as well.
Then it becomes a staff again. Moses is instructed to grab it by the tail and it is turned back into a harmless, but effective, and useful tool of his trade again. Hmmm…did I know that when I follow the instruction of the Lord, that the tool in my hand becomes something fearsome but controlled?
I am a writer and a talker. I have a friend who in answer to the question “what’s your gifting” will sometimes answer “I talk.” Then she laughs her wonderful laugh and will go on to elaborate her answer. The truth is, that IS her gifting. And I know it is also mine. I talk, and I teach. The maxim is “the pen is mightier than the sword.” The tools of my trade are my tongue and now, the keyboard. I speak and I write. But oh, how often, those very same tools become our worst liabilities. I say the thing I cannot pull back. I write the thing and hit send before I have cooled off. I speak the words that are forever now in cyberspace. And sad as it is, then I learn the truth of the maxim previously quoted…the pen, the keyboard, the tongue is mightier than the sword, at times causing greater pain than the point of the rapier. The staff in my hand (or in my mouth) becomes a snake. And then like Moses, I want to run away from the very thing with which God has equipped me.
Yet, the truth cannot be ignored: that which is in your hand is often the very thing that God wants you to use to tackle what could be the toughest assignment of your life
So, the question I have for you today is, “what is that in your hand?” Maybe it is a color you don’t like; maybe it is something you are second guessing; maybe it is something that you don’t think is very cool, or sexy, or necessary, or important, maybe it is something way too familiar. But what is in your hand?
My second question is, “are you using it?” Rather, are you letting God use what’s in your hand? Or is that “snake in your hand” sitting, slithering, in the basket?
My admonition is as follows: don’t wait for the “select the perfect color anointing.” Hear the Lord, obey the word of the Lord, watch for Him to perform His word.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Leaning on the Character of God
I recently had to tell my parents a difficult thing…my husband was resigning from his job. That wasn’t the hard part. The hard part was that he did not have a job to which he was going. We are on the road of faith and the end is good, but getting there takes…well, faith. That isn’t the point. The point is this, my parents were not too crazy about Phil’s transition from Xerox to full time ministry. I had no idea what their reaction to a move from full time ministry to home missions was going to be.
We chatted for a long time as I went in circles about our dreams, the vision to which we believe God is calling us, together as a team, as a couple. At one point, obviously a little flustered by my inability to explain in a concise fashion the job description for his next assignment, she calmly said, “Ellen, I trust Phil and I know this will be alright. He is a good man and a resourceful man. He will find a way through it.”
As a wife, I beamed with pride. First of all, my mother’s words were a tremendous accolade and vote of confidence in my beloved. Second of all, it was a much better response to our news than I had expected. And finally, even though she could not see her way through the circumstances, she trusted in my husband’s character to bring us through. And, that, is the point.
As we have moved through this adventure to the point we are now, Phil has often commented that he feels a little like Abraham getting instructions from God: “Leave your country, your people, and your father’s household and go to the land I will show you.” (Genesis 12:1) Wouldn’t it have been nice if God had said, “oh, by the way, I went by AAA, the Angelic Automobile Association, and picked up this triptik for you, here are some maps, it’s cool because they show you all the detours too. And, every hundred miles or so, you’ll see that there are road side restaurants. Finally, I know you might be a little worried about provision along the way, don’t. I’ve got you covered. Here are some gift certificates for some clothes, sandals, tents along the way. You’ll find everything you need at the Fertile Crescent Mall” which, of course, is clearly marked on the map. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that way. Or rather, fortunately, it wasn’t that way; otherwise, Abraham would not be our father in the faith. He would be known as our father in confidence in things seen…or something like that.
Now, imagine the conversation Abraham had with Sarah’s father as he told him that his god had told him he needed to leave Haran. It’s just another hot dry day in the desert outlying the fertile crescent. Abraham and Sarah’s father are sharing a little cup of goat’s milk, sitting on a little carpet.
“So, uhm, Abraham, Sarah tells me that you are leaving Haran.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Any special reason why.”
“No sir.”
“Then why are you leaving?”
“Uh, God told me to.”
“This new god?”
“Actually sir, he is the only true god. He told me so.”
“So he told you to go. And I suppose he told you he is stronger than the moon god and the god of fertility.”
“Well, sir (he laughs nervously)…it’s not as if the fertility god is doing much for us either.”
“Alright, where exactly are you going?”
“Good question. In fact, that is a great question…to which I don’t have a good or great answer. I am not sure.”
“Well, how will you know when you get to wherever this secret place you are going to is?”
“Yet again, another great question. I don’t know.” He looks sheepishly down at his sandals.
“Abraham, I have entrusted you with my daughter. Do you expect me to just let you take her to some unknown place to worship some unknown God?”
“Sir, I don’t know the way that my God takes me, but I know He is good, and He is loving, and He is the almighty God, able to do all things and able to do anything. The way that He takes me is good if I follow Him, He will not lead me astray. I trust in His character. So I know the way He leads me will be good.”
And that is the point.
We’re all on a faith journey. And there is not one of us who knows exactly where the faith journey leads. If we knew, we would have no reason for faith or for hope. Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the confidence of things not seen.. (Hebrews 11:1) And we have that hope and that confidence because of the God who loves us and who leads us.
So, we’re all the children of Abraham, in many ways. We may not be sure where we will end up, but we know who leads us and that He is good. As Christians, we trust in the character of God, we lean on the character of God, we depend on the character of God. That’s why when Moses asked well, if they ask who sent me, what am I supposed to say? God answered firmly, perhaps even laughing as He answered, “tell them, I AM sent you.” So when the way is dark, uncertain, confusing, painful…trust His character. I AM sent you.
We chatted for a long time as I went in circles about our dreams, the vision to which we believe God is calling us, together as a team, as a couple. At one point, obviously a little flustered by my inability to explain in a concise fashion the job description for his next assignment, she calmly said, “Ellen, I trust Phil and I know this will be alright. He is a good man and a resourceful man. He will find a way through it.”
As a wife, I beamed with pride. First of all, my mother’s words were a tremendous accolade and vote of confidence in my beloved. Second of all, it was a much better response to our news than I had expected. And finally, even though she could not see her way through the circumstances, she trusted in my husband’s character to bring us through. And, that, is the point.
As we have moved through this adventure to the point we are now, Phil has often commented that he feels a little like Abraham getting instructions from God: “Leave your country, your people, and your father’s household and go to the land I will show you.” (Genesis 12:1) Wouldn’t it have been nice if God had said, “oh, by the way, I went by AAA, the Angelic Automobile Association, and picked up this triptik for you, here are some maps, it’s cool because they show you all the detours too. And, every hundred miles or so, you’ll see that there are road side restaurants. Finally, I know you might be a little worried about provision along the way, don’t. I’ve got you covered. Here are some gift certificates for some clothes, sandals, tents along the way. You’ll find everything you need at the Fertile Crescent Mall” which, of course, is clearly marked on the map. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that way. Or rather, fortunately, it wasn’t that way; otherwise, Abraham would not be our father in the faith. He would be known as our father in confidence in things seen…or something like that.
Now, imagine the conversation Abraham had with Sarah’s father as he told him that his god had told him he needed to leave Haran. It’s just another hot dry day in the desert outlying the fertile crescent. Abraham and Sarah’s father are sharing a little cup of goat’s milk, sitting on a little carpet.
“So, uhm, Abraham, Sarah tells me that you are leaving Haran.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Any special reason why.”
“No sir.”
“Then why are you leaving?”
“Uh, God told me to.”
“This new god?”
“Actually sir, he is the only true god. He told me so.”
“So he told you to go. And I suppose he told you he is stronger than the moon god and the god of fertility.”
“Well, sir (he laughs nervously)…it’s not as if the fertility god is doing much for us either.”
“Alright, where exactly are you going?”
“Good question. In fact, that is a great question…to which I don’t have a good or great answer. I am not sure.”
“Well, how will you know when you get to wherever this secret place you are going to is?”
“Yet again, another great question. I don’t know.” He looks sheepishly down at his sandals.
“Abraham, I have entrusted you with my daughter. Do you expect me to just let you take her to some unknown place to worship some unknown God?”
“Sir, I don’t know the way that my God takes me, but I know He is good, and He is loving, and He is the almighty God, able to do all things and able to do anything. The way that He takes me is good if I follow Him, He will not lead me astray. I trust in His character. So I know the way He leads me will be good.”
And that is the point.
We’re all on a faith journey. And there is not one of us who knows exactly where the faith journey leads. If we knew, we would have no reason for faith or for hope. Faith is the substance of things hoped for and the confidence of things not seen.. (Hebrews 11:1) And we have that hope and that confidence because of the God who loves us and who leads us.
So, we’re all the children of Abraham, in many ways. We may not be sure where we will end up, but we know who leads us and that He is good. As Christians, we trust in the character of God, we lean on the character of God, we depend on the character of God. That’s why when Moses asked well, if they ask who sent me, what am I supposed to say? God answered firmly, perhaps even laughing as He answered, “tell them, I AM sent you.” So when the way is dark, uncertain, confusing, painful…trust His character. I AM sent you.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
Lessons on the Ladder
Our last house was all cedar shingles. So when we moved to a newer house with vinyl siding I was delighted. Of course, there is still the trim. Right now we are in the throes of painting the trim, which takes quite a bit of time, lots of paint, scraping, and , of course, the big mega, serious extension ladder. I intensely dislike standing on a sloping roof, and though I am not a great fan of heights, I can paint on an extension ladder. I can, but I am not very comfortable doing it.
Don’t look down, don’t look down…
So there I am painting the very highest peak on the house, maybe only 25 feet up. I take each rung one at a time, one foot on, the next foot on. I can not bound up the ladder as I do the stairs. The ladder shakes. As I am up there painting, twenty five feet closer to 94 degrees, I am pressed into the ladder so hard that the imprint of each rung is on my legs. I find it very difficult to let go of the ladder … I have to hold on to at least one side, which makes painting very cumbersome and time consuming. I just cannot stretch as far when I am gripping one side of the ladder.
About the third day of doing this, this clinging and hanging on for dear life, it occurs to me that clinging to the ladder probably does not make me any safer. The safety issue is pretty much determined as I, or my husband, as is usually the case, set up the ladder on level ground, test it, bang it against the house a few times, and find that the ladder is stable. The steadiness and sureness of the ladder is not in my clinging to it. The steadiness and sureness is in the set up and in the ladder itself. The fact is, I can be clinging hard to the one side of the ladder all the way down to the ground if the ladder isn’t steady and on level ground.
For sure, I FEEL better when I am clinging hard to that one side. I somehow FEEL that I am safer, or that I am more secure if I am hanging on.
Perhaps you have seen a child clinging to a parent during a thunder storm. Head burrowed into the parent’s shoulder. Arms wrapped so tightly around the neck it becomes hard to breathe. Eyes screwed shut. Until the storm is past. The fact is, the parent is holding onto the child. It is the parent holding the child, but the child is hanging on, clinging to the parent…for dear life. It does little good to say “there , there, you don’t need to choke me.” The child needs to do so, until the storm is past. I suspect, my children too felt better, safer, more secure in hanging on so tightly, in clinging to us during the storm. No amount of reason, rationale or logic could persuade them to let go. They needed to not only know the storm would pass, they needed to FEEL safe, secure, until the storm was past.
Sometimes, I just need to feel safe in the Lord. I know I am. I preach to others, and to myself, we are safe in the Lord. But, oh sometimes, I so need to FEEL that safety. And God is patient. Even though I am hugging Him so hard His divine face might turn blue, He won’t let me go, or try to give me logic and reason in place of the safety and security. He lets me cling so hard to Him that I wear the very imprint of His face on mine, I feel His arms around me tightly holding me, and I cling to His neck, because while I dislike walking up a high ladder, I can do it, all the way up, whistling all the way.
One other thing, by the fifth day, I could actually climb up to that peak, look down and think “wow, I’m pretty high” and then I could let go and hold two brushes, or the paint can if necessary. It was amazing to me. Not that I was confident in myself, I found my confidence in the ladder and the level ground on which it rested. I knew, even if I let go of the ladder, it was still bearing me.
Beloved, if you’re on a faith ladder right now, know that the ladder is secure, strong and will not fail you. The ladder, if resting on Jesus, is on a sure and steady foundation. Second, if you feel better clinging to the ladder, if you feel safer holding on tightly, rest assured He doesn’t mind…and besides, the tighter you cling to Him, the more you will bear the imprint of His face on yours.
Not bad for a summer lesson.
Don’t look down, don’t look down…
So there I am painting the very highest peak on the house, maybe only 25 feet up. I take each rung one at a time, one foot on, the next foot on. I can not bound up the ladder as I do the stairs. The ladder shakes. As I am up there painting, twenty five feet closer to 94 degrees, I am pressed into the ladder so hard that the imprint of each rung is on my legs. I find it very difficult to let go of the ladder … I have to hold on to at least one side, which makes painting very cumbersome and time consuming. I just cannot stretch as far when I am gripping one side of the ladder.
About the third day of doing this, this clinging and hanging on for dear life, it occurs to me that clinging to the ladder probably does not make me any safer. The safety issue is pretty much determined as I, or my husband, as is usually the case, set up the ladder on level ground, test it, bang it against the house a few times, and find that the ladder is stable. The steadiness and sureness of the ladder is not in my clinging to it. The steadiness and sureness is in the set up and in the ladder itself. The fact is, I can be clinging hard to the one side of the ladder all the way down to the ground if the ladder isn’t steady and on level ground.
For sure, I FEEL better when I am clinging hard to that one side. I somehow FEEL that I am safer, or that I am more secure if I am hanging on.
Perhaps you have seen a child clinging to a parent during a thunder storm. Head burrowed into the parent’s shoulder. Arms wrapped so tightly around the neck it becomes hard to breathe. Eyes screwed shut. Until the storm is past. The fact is, the parent is holding onto the child. It is the parent holding the child, but the child is hanging on, clinging to the parent…for dear life. It does little good to say “there , there, you don’t need to choke me.” The child needs to do so, until the storm is past. I suspect, my children too felt better, safer, more secure in hanging on so tightly, in clinging to us during the storm. No amount of reason, rationale or logic could persuade them to let go. They needed to not only know the storm would pass, they needed to FEEL safe, secure, until the storm was past.
Sometimes, I just need to feel safe in the Lord. I know I am. I preach to others, and to myself, we are safe in the Lord. But, oh sometimes, I so need to FEEL that safety. And God is patient. Even though I am hugging Him so hard His divine face might turn blue, He won’t let me go, or try to give me logic and reason in place of the safety and security. He lets me cling so hard to Him that I wear the very imprint of His face on mine, I feel His arms around me tightly holding me, and I cling to His neck, because while I dislike walking up a high ladder, I can do it, all the way up, whistling all the way.
One other thing, by the fifth day, I could actually climb up to that peak, look down and think “wow, I’m pretty high” and then I could let go and hold two brushes, or the paint can if necessary. It was amazing to me. Not that I was confident in myself, I found my confidence in the ladder and the level ground on which it rested. I knew, even if I let go of the ladder, it was still bearing me.
Beloved, if you’re on a faith ladder right now, know that the ladder is secure, strong and will not fail you. The ladder, if resting on Jesus, is on a sure and steady foundation. Second, if you feel better clinging to the ladder, if you feel safer holding on tightly, rest assured He doesn’t mind…and besides, the tighter you cling to Him, the more you will bear the imprint of His face on yours.
Not bad for a summer lesson.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
I'm Waiting
It has been too long and my apologies to anyone out there who actually looks for this blog on a regular basis. I have been in a waiting line. I don’t mean the kind at the WalMart. There, at least there are twenty clerks who might be able to serve me; in addition, there are the self scans now which means I get to do it all myself: select the merchandise, scan it myself, bag it myself, and pay for it. And no, I am not even in a store where there may be only one clerk, but at least there is a ticket machine which allows me to know exactly how many people are in front of me. Then I pray that the five people in front of me will give up and leave, which will, of course, put me way ahead in the line. No, I am in a waiting room, with only one Person who can help me, only one line and no ticket machine. I hate waiting.
However, since I am waiting anyway, lately I have been thinking a lot about the Israelites and how long they waited.
23 During that long period, the king of Egypt died. The Israelites groaned in their slavery and cried out, and their cry for help because of their slavery went up to God. 24 God heard their groaning and he remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac and with Jacob. 25 So God looked on the Israelites and was concerned about them.
That long period…how long? 430 years. Now that’s a long wait. And for the poor Israelites, during that time period, they went from the days of Joseph,: prosperity, land, prominence and favor to slavery.
Frankly, my own waiting period feels like it could be 430 years. When I look behind I see a lot of pain and trial. I see little ahead. And then I feel like the Israelites: slaves, forced labor, ruthless oppression, lives bitter with hard labor. It wasn’t pretty, nor was it easy. So they did what they could: they worked hard, made bricks, suffered oppression, cried out to God and groaned.
But, there is good news: right there in the Bible, right there in the middle of slavery, in the middle of oppression. Their cry for help because of their slavery went up to God. And do you know how my God answered them?
God heard their groaning
He remembered His covenant with Abraham
So God looked
God was concerned.
He heard, He remembered, He looked, He was concerned.
That the King of all glory, the King of the universe would hear, remember and look. Not only that, but He was concerned.
I find great comfort in that. Pretty simple really. While we are waiting and crying out, God hears, remembers, looks and is concerned. Now here comes the really interesting part. In His concern, He sets into motion the plan He has had all along.
7 The LORD said, "I have indeed seen the misery of my people in Egypt. I have heard them crying out because of their slave drivers, and I am concerned about their suffering. 8 So I have come down to rescue them from the hand of the Egyptians and to bring them up out of that land into a good and spacious land, a land flowing with milk and honey—the home of the Canaanites, Hittites, Amorites, Perizzites, Hivites and Jebusites. 9 And now the cry of the Israelites has reached me, and I have seen the way the Egyptians are oppressing them. 10 So now, go. I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people the Israelites out of Egypt."
Isn’t that bizarre? Look at the italicized text above: I have indeed seen, I have heard them crying, I am concerned, I have come down to rescue them, So now go, I am sending you… I am sending Moses. Uh, is there anyone else?
He picks a Moses. We all know, or probably many of us know that God could not have chosen a less likely hero. Why would God choose a shepherd to lead three million people? Why would God choose a man who stuttered to speak to a king? Why would God choose a murderer to speak encouragement and life to slaves? Why would God choose an insecure man to be the emissary for the King of the universe? Who knows? For His glory. So He gets all the glory.
I’m good with everything right up to that last part. Moses. Moses! This is my point…who is God sending to help you? Are you crying out? Are you waiting? Are you in bondage? What if it’s you that God is sending to help? What if it’s a Moses that God is sending to help? Do not despise the plan of God.
By the way, allow me to point out one last thing about Moses: unlikely hero that he was. It says in Exodus 3:6 that when God introduced Himself “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and Jacob.” At this, Moses hid his face, because he was afraid to look at God.” Wow. Talk about an unlikely leader. An unlikely savior. An unlikely deliverer. An unlikely hero. But oh, friend, after trials, hardship, disappointment and wandering in the desert, this is the truth about Moses: “The Lord would speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks with his friend.” He answered the call and was willing to be the man God called him to be and became a man he never expected to be; he became one with whom God would speak as a man speaks with a friend, face to face.
My friend, your place of waiting is holy ground. Take off your shoes and listen for the voice of the Lord. And while you are waiting, turn on your ipod and listen to this song from Fireproof.
I’m waiting I’m waiting on You, Lord. And I am hopeful I’m waiting on You, Lord Though it is painful But patiently, I will wait I will move ahead, bold and confident Taking every step in obedience While I’m waiting I will serve You While I’m waiting I will worship While I’m waiting I will not faint I’ll be running the race Even while I wait. I’m waiting I’m waiting on You, Lord. And I am peaceful I’m waiting on You, Lord Though it’s not easy But faithfully, I will wait Yes, I will wait I will serve You while I’m waiting I will worship while I’m waiting I will serve You while I’m waiting I will worship while I’m waiting I will serve You while I’m waiting I will worship while I’m waiting on You, Lord.
Amen. I’m waiting and my God hears my cry, He hears your cry, He sees, He remembers, He is concerned, He will come to rescue and if we will accept it, He may even send us a Moses.
However, since I am waiting anyway, lately I have been thinking a lot about the Israelites and how long they waited.
23 During that long period, the king of Egypt died. The Israelites groaned in their slavery and cried out, and their cry for help because of their slavery went up to God. 24 God heard their groaning and he remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac and with Jacob. 25 So God looked on the Israelites and was concerned about them.
That long period…how long? 430 years. Now that’s a long wait. And for the poor Israelites, during that time period, they went from the days of Joseph,: prosperity, land, prominence and favor to slavery.
Frankly, my own waiting period feels like it could be 430 years. When I look behind I see a lot of pain and trial. I see little ahead. And then I feel like the Israelites: slaves, forced labor, ruthless oppression, lives bitter with hard labor. It wasn’t pretty, nor was it easy. So they did what they could: they worked hard, made bricks, suffered oppression, cried out to God and groaned.
But, there is good news: right there in the Bible, right there in the middle of slavery, in the middle of oppression. Their cry for help because of their slavery went up to God. And do you know how my God answered them?
God heard their groaning
He remembered His covenant with Abraham
So God looked
God was concerned.
He heard, He remembered, He looked, He was concerned.
That the King of all glory, the King of the universe would hear, remember and look. Not only that, but He was concerned.
I find great comfort in that. Pretty simple really. While we are waiting and crying out, God hears, remembers, looks and is concerned. Now here comes the really interesting part. In His concern, He sets into motion the plan He has had all along.
7 The LORD said, "I have indeed seen the misery of my people in Egypt. I have heard them crying out because of their slave drivers, and I am concerned about their suffering. 8 So I have come down to rescue them from the hand of the Egyptians and to bring them up out of that land into a good and spacious land, a land flowing with milk and honey—the home of the Canaanites, Hittites, Amorites, Perizzites, Hivites and Jebusites. 9 And now the cry of the Israelites has reached me, and I have seen the way the Egyptians are oppressing them. 10 So now, go. I am sending you to Pharaoh to bring my people the Israelites out of Egypt."
Isn’t that bizarre? Look at the italicized text above: I have indeed seen, I have heard them crying, I am concerned, I have come down to rescue them, So now go, I am sending you… I am sending Moses. Uh, is there anyone else?
He picks a Moses. We all know, or probably many of us know that God could not have chosen a less likely hero. Why would God choose a shepherd to lead three million people? Why would God choose a man who stuttered to speak to a king? Why would God choose a murderer to speak encouragement and life to slaves? Why would God choose an insecure man to be the emissary for the King of the universe? Who knows? For His glory. So He gets all the glory.
I’m good with everything right up to that last part. Moses. Moses! This is my point…who is God sending to help you? Are you crying out? Are you waiting? Are you in bondage? What if it’s you that God is sending to help? What if it’s a Moses that God is sending to help? Do not despise the plan of God.
By the way, allow me to point out one last thing about Moses: unlikely hero that he was. It says in Exodus 3:6 that when God introduced Himself “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and Jacob.” At this, Moses hid his face, because he was afraid to look at God.” Wow. Talk about an unlikely leader. An unlikely savior. An unlikely deliverer. An unlikely hero. But oh, friend, after trials, hardship, disappointment and wandering in the desert, this is the truth about Moses: “The Lord would speak to Moses face to face, as a man speaks with his friend.” He answered the call and was willing to be the man God called him to be and became a man he never expected to be; he became one with whom God would speak as a man speaks with a friend, face to face.
My friend, your place of waiting is holy ground. Take off your shoes and listen for the voice of the Lord. And while you are waiting, turn on your ipod and listen to this song from Fireproof.
I’m waiting I’m waiting on You, Lord. And I am hopeful I’m waiting on You, Lord Though it is painful But patiently, I will wait I will move ahead, bold and confident Taking every step in obedience While I’m waiting I will serve You While I’m waiting I will worship While I’m waiting I will not faint I’ll be running the race Even while I wait. I’m waiting I’m waiting on You, Lord. And I am peaceful I’m waiting on You, Lord Though it’s not easy But faithfully, I will wait Yes, I will wait I will serve You while I’m waiting I will worship while I’m waiting I will serve You while I’m waiting I will worship while I’m waiting I will serve You while I’m waiting I will worship while I’m waiting on You, Lord.
Amen. I’m waiting and my God hears my cry, He hears your cry, He sees, He remembers, He is concerned, He will come to rescue and if we will accept it, He may even send us a Moses.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Eating from the Tree of Knowledge
We all know people in pain. In fact, every time I turn around, I meet someone in pain, some in physical pain. Some people are in such pain they cannot bear it without the aid of drugs to deaden the pain, if not the source of pain. Some people are in great mental pain; they worry, fret, and are anxious much of the time. Some people suffer from deep emotional pain, caused by a past or present situation, a betrayal, a broken relationship. And perhaps most difficult of all for me to witness, those in deep spiritual pain-those who feel they have been betrayed by God Himself. It is painful to be the one in pain and painful to watch someone you love enduring any of the above. And my purpose today is certainly not to address the pain or the cure. I leave that to the theologians and to the apologists. My purpose today is to simply pose a different way of thinking about pain.
When I was at the retreat of which I wrote last week, in one of our small discussion groups, someone was talking about her particular pain she was currently working through. And almost to a woman, the response was "oh that's so awful. It would be so much easier if you at least knew why." Or something to that effect. We all often think things like that. Cancer...why? Untimely death...why? War...why? Job loss...why? Miscarriage...why? Divorce...why? AIDS...why? A wayward child...why? For me, the particular pain was infertility.
I was 34 when I got married and my husband and I conceived right away, having our first daughter nine months and four days after our marriage. So, we were a little surprised and a little frustrated when we did not conceive again though we tried. We did eventually go back to the doctor and eventually a fertility specialist. No, they never did figure out what was "wrong." They never did figure out whether it was him, me, both of us...whatever. But lots of people asked. (Isn't that bizarre?) Whenever we face pain, our first task is to set about discovering who or what caused the pain. Then we take the requisite aspirin, or get the MRI, or go to a counsellor or whatever will fix the problem. I saw this all the time as a personal injury lawyer. Clients were forever trying to blame someone for an accident, or for some situation that stunk, or for whatever ailed them. It was really unpopular to tell them that sometimes life just stinks and things happen that no one would wish upon their worst enemy and it is really pointless to try to find someone to blame. This position made me neither popular nor rich.
During the trial of infertility, I often got mad at God. And I often asked why. Truth be told, I thought some ugly things during those dark days...why not someone else. Why us? There were times when I was so mad...it didn't even matter at whom my anger was directed...sometimes myself, sometimes my husband, sometimes anyone who asked about it. I frequently wrote about my frustration and asked vis a vis my journal: "why? It would be so much easier if we knew why we had to go through this." So you can imagine my surprise when in the midst of one of my temper tantrums, out of the darkness, I heard a still, small, gentle, patient voice asking me "would it really be better if you knew why? What makes you think it would be easier to go through this trial if you knew why?" And then the Lord took me to a garden wherein stood two trees, the Tree of Life and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.
Genesis 1: 8 Now the LORD God had planted a garden in the east, in Eden; and there he put the man he had formed. 9 And the LORD God made all kinds of trees grow out of the ground—trees that were pleasing to the eye and good for food. In the middle of the garden were the tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.
15 The LORD God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it. 16 And the LORD God commanded the man, "You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; 17 but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat of it you will surely die."
This sounds pretty simple. Here is a wonderful garden, Adam and Eve. You are free to eat from any tree in the garden, including the Tree of Life. But DO NOT EAT FROM THE TREE OF THE KNOWLEDGE OF GOOD AND EVIL. ON THE DAY YOU EAT OF IT, YOU WILL DIE.
One rule. And, of course, what is the one thing they cannot resist doing? We know the rest of the story.
1 Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals the LORD God had made. He said to the woman, "Did God really say, 'You must not eat from any tree in the garden'?"
2 The woman said to the serpent, "We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, 3 but God did say, 'You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.' "
4 "You will not surely die," the serpent said to the woman. 5 "For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil."
6 When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it.
So she ate of it, gave some to Adam, and then they had an encounter with God. And there were consequences.
16 To the woman he said, "I will greatly increase your pains in childbearing; with pain you will give birth to children. Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you."
17 To Adam he said, "Because you listened to your wife and ate from the tree about which I commanded you, 'You must not eat of it,' "Cursed is the ground because of you; through painful toil you will eat of it all the days of your life. 18. It will produce thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat the plants of the field. 19 By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return."
Beloved, our mother ate from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil and it brought guilt, shame and death. Why? Because she believed a serpentine lie that [her] eyes [would] be opened, and [she would] be like God, knowing good and evil." She ate from that forbidden Tree because she "saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom." She, too, wanted a wisdom that was not hers to receive. Eve wanted a knowledge which was not hers to acquire.
Eve could have eaten from the Tree of Life, but she chose not to. She could have eaten from any other tree, but she chose to eat from a forbidden tree, a Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil and it brought her not the life and wisdom, the knowledge and perspective she desired; it brought her death.
Beloved, after that visit to the Garden, I stopped asking the why about our infertility. In fact, through the subsequent trials and testings of life, I have tried hard to not park too long at that place of "why." Instead, through tears, through pain, yes, through bewilderment even, I have chosen to go back to the Tree of Life, find my refuge there and reaching up, I eat of its fruit.
I suppose that some would see this as a rather simplistic way of dealing with pain. Perhaps. But it is far better than banging my head against a wall of brass. Fair enough, sometimes we may need to ask the why. Regardless we almost always need to ask the "what do I need to learn" question. And above all, we need to eat the fruit of the Tree of Life, which without fail, brings us...well, life.
Life is so full of pain and trials. I do not say this glibly. Even now, I travail through a measure of confusion and some pain. I find that my desire now is not so much to know why. My desire now is to reach up to the Tree of Life, which oddly enough looks much like a cross, find shelter there, and eat my fill of the good fruit.
Psalm 34: 8 Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him.
When I was at the retreat of which I wrote last week, in one of our small discussion groups, someone was talking about her particular pain she was currently working through. And almost to a woman, the response was "oh that's so awful. It would be so much easier if you at least knew why." Or something to that effect. We all often think things like that. Cancer...why? Untimely death...why? War...why? Job loss...why? Miscarriage...why? Divorce...why? AIDS...why? A wayward child...why? For me, the particular pain was infertility.
I was 34 when I got married and my husband and I conceived right away, having our first daughter nine months and four days after our marriage. So, we were a little surprised and a little frustrated when we did not conceive again though we tried. We did eventually go back to the doctor and eventually a fertility specialist. No, they never did figure out what was "wrong." They never did figure out whether it was him, me, both of us...whatever. But lots of people asked. (Isn't that bizarre?) Whenever we face pain, our first task is to set about discovering who or what caused the pain. Then we take the requisite aspirin, or get the MRI, or go to a counsellor or whatever will fix the problem. I saw this all the time as a personal injury lawyer. Clients were forever trying to blame someone for an accident, or for some situation that stunk, or for whatever ailed them. It was really unpopular to tell them that sometimes life just stinks and things happen that no one would wish upon their worst enemy and it is really pointless to try to find someone to blame. This position made me neither popular nor rich.
During the trial of infertility, I often got mad at God. And I often asked why. Truth be told, I thought some ugly things during those dark days...why not someone else. Why us? There were times when I was so mad...it didn't even matter at whom my anger was directed...sometimes myself, sometimes my husband, sometimes anyone who asked about it. I frequently wrote about my frustration and asked vis a vis my journal: "why? It would be so much easier if we knew why we had to go through this." So you can imagine my surprise when in the midst of one of my temper tantrums, out of the darkness, I heard a still, small, gentle, patient voice asking me "would it really be better if you knew why? What makes you think it would be easier to go through this trial if you knew why?" And then the Lord took me to a garden wherein stood two trees, the Tree of Life and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.
Genesis 1: 8 Now the LORD God had planted a garden in the east, in Eden; and there he put the man he had formed. 9 And the LORD God made all kinds of trees grow out of the ground—trees that were pleasing to the eye and good for food. In the middle of the garden were the tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.
15 The LORD God took the man and put him in the Garden of Eden to work it and take care of it. 16 And the LORD God commanded the man, "You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; 17 but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat of it you will surely die."
This sounds pretty simple. Here is a wonderful garden, Adam and Eve. You are free to eat from any tree in the garden, including the Tree of Life. But DO NOT EAT FROM THE TREE OF THE KNOWLEDGE OF GOOD AND EVIL. ON THE DAY YOU EAT OF IT, YOU WILL DIE.
One rule. And, of course, what is the one thing they cannot resist doing? We know the rest of the story.
1 Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals the LORD God had made. He said to the woman, "Did God really say, 'You must not eat from any tree in the garden'?"
2 The woman said to the serpent, "We may eat fruit from the trees in the garden, 3 but God did say, 'You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.' "
4 "You will not surely die," the serpent said to the woman. 5 "For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil."
6 When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it. She also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it.
So she ate of it, gave some to Adam, and then they had an encounter with God. And there were consequences.
16 To the woman he said, "I will greatly increase your pains in childbearing; with pain you will give birth to children. Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you."
17 To Adam he said, "Because you listened to your wife and ate from the tree about which I commanded you, 'You must not eat of it,' "Cursed is the ground because of you; through painful toil you will eat of it all the days of your life. 18. It will produce thorns and thistles for you, and you will eat the plants of the field. 19 By the sweat of your brow you will eat your food until you return to the ground, since from it you were taken; for dust you are and to dust you will return."
Beloved, our mother ate from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil and it brought guilt, shame and death. Why? Because she believed a serpentine lie that [her] eyes [would] be opened, and [she would] be like God, knowing good and evil." She ate from that forbidden Tree because she "saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom." She, too, wanted a wisdom that was not hers to receive. Eve wanted a knowledge which was not hers to acquire.
Eve could have eaten from the Tree of Life, but she chose not to. She could have eaten from any other tree, but she chose to eat from a forbidden tree, a Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil and it brought her not the life and wisdom, the knowledge and perspective she desired; it brought her death.
Beloved, after that visit to the Garden, I stopped asking the why about our infertility. In fact, through the subsequent trials and testings of life, I have tried hard to not park too long at that place of "why." Instead, through tears, through pain, yes, through bewilderment even, I have chosen to go back to the Tree of Life, find my refuge there and reaching up, I eat of its fruit.
I suppose that some would see this as a rather simplistic way of dealing with pain. Perhaps. But it is far better than banging my head against a wall of brass. Fair enough, sometimes we may need to ask the why. Regardless we almost always need to ask the "what do I need to learn" question. And above all, we need to eat the fruit of the Tree of Life, which without fail, brings us...well, life.
Life is so full of pain and trials. I do not say this glibly. Even now, I travail through a measure of confusion and some pain. I find that my desire now is not so much to know why. My desire now is to reach up to the Tree of Life, which oddly enough looks much like a cross, find shelter there, and eat my fill of the good fruit.
Psalm 34: 8 Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in him.
If you are one currently traversing through a journey of pain, my heart goes out to you. If you are one who cries through the darkness, asking why, I extend His love to you. May you find your refuge in Him. May you find your peace in the shadow of the Tree of Life. May you lean into Him and eat of the fruit on that tree. May you find your fill in the abundance of His household. Amen
Monday, April 27, 2009
Profound Simplicity
I recently had the pleasure of enjoying a challenging retreat with a wonderful group of fellow sojourners. It was a pleasure in that anytime that I am not cooking every meal or cleaning up after wards, am released from the daily tasks of running the household and disciplining children, is a pleasure. It was also a pleasure in that I had ample time to talk, take walks, pray with other women, talk some more, hear some terrific teaching, talk, process what I was hearing and then, of course, talk some more. It was a challenge in that anytime spent in the fellowship of committed believers who want to get closer to Jesus is challenging and encouraging.
The retreat was held in a beautiful, stone mansion somewhere in Pennsylvania (my unspoken rule is don't drive, don't pay attention). There was the quiet, steady, reassuring flow of fountains and pools, water trickling out of mighty lions' mouths. All around was the sweet sound of chickadees, cardinals and a few misplaced wild turkey gobbles. The trees were not budding yet, even though it was 85 degrees. Terraces, iron gates, azaleas, well places garden love seats were everywhere and anywhere, delightful surprises as I turned corners. Hopefully, albeit inartfully, I am starting to convey to you the picture of a lovely architectural context which invited me to solace, contemplation, comfort and joy.
Across the street from the manor was a carriage house, behind which was nestled a labyrinth. A labyrinth, for those of you who may not be familiar with it, is simply, a type of maze. The online dictionary defines it as "1 a: a place constructed of or full of intricate passageways and blind alleys b: a maze (as in a garden) formed by paths separated by high hedges 2: something extremely complex or tortuous in structure, arrangement, or character." However, a true labyrinth is actually much simpler than a maze. Wikepedia.com defines one as "a single-path (unicursal) labyrinth has only a single Eulerian path to the center. A labyrinth has an unambiguous through-route to the center and back and is not designed to be difficult to navigate." I put a picture of one up in the corner. (my husband actually navigated that step for me) This is the type of labyrinth I walked in Pennsylvania. It was made from a soft black surface with the 24 inch wide path bounded by bricks. there was only one path to walk to get to the center. It was not difficult, nor was it tedious.
I should add that other women on the retreat had walked the labyrinth and described it as an incredibly profound experience. I, of course, wanted no less. So, since I had a lot on my mind and was ready to hear some answers to prayers and desiring some settling in various areas of pain and confusion, I started and silently asked for revelation. None came. I navigated the labyrinth. I tried really hard to be silent but found the divine silence as I walked uncomfortable and unsettling. I continued to walk. I started to sing quietly, How Great Thou Art, How Great is Our God, Jesus, I am So In Love with You, Your Name...anything I could remember the words to without strain. I did not want to break the increasing reverie of the morning. Still, I walked, yet without revelation or quietly spoken words of assurance. I so longed to hear some words of divine reassurance, some token that I was on the right path, some sign that the emotional turmoil was somehow sanctioned by the Lord. Nothing. More singing. More walking along the path...yet all along, it was true, it was not difficult to navigate. I was slowly moving closer to the center and all along kept thinking "surely this is where God will break in." But He didn't. And then I reached the center. And I almost wanted to weep because the incredibly profound experience was missing; there was no revelation. I wasn't mad, but I was frustrated.
I stood there in the center, lifted my hands to heaven and sang the only other song I could think of, (even though I couldn't remember all the words...I remembered the pertinent ones) an old Twila Paris song, Center of Your Will. "Living in this temple, dealing with this clay, I've been known to compromise, You have seen me turn away. I've been on the edge before, and I have felt the chill, but I could never live outside the center of your will. Keep me in the center of your will. Keep me in the center of your will. ... though I sometimes fear this place, and find it hard to fill, but I could never live outside the center of your will."
That is when I finally got the message of the labyrinth (for me anyway): faithfully traveling the labyrinth to the center was the revelation. I was on the path all along getting closer to the center. The dumbest thing I could have done is given up thinking, "well God is never going to speak to me anyway." The second dumbest thing I could have done was to race to the center: that would have really been a mess because the path just wasn't designed to accommodate a sprinter. Yet, how often do I do that on THE path? I rush, I quit, I give up, I can't wait. I was so worried that the pain and frustration of our situations were an indication that I could not possibly be on the path. Could the circuitous route possibly be the path of the Lord? I don't enjoy the labyrinth, which is not difficult, but it does take time to get to the center...the point is, all along, you're on the right path, you're on the journey to the center. Then I actually felt the pleasure of the Lord. I felt His smile.
Yes, there is a bit of a puzzle if one looks at it from the sky, but the center is clear, if one looks at it from above. While I can't see from above, what I can do is follow the path, and as I walk step by step, it isn't convoluted or confusing. It just involves walking along the only way I can at the time, with wisdom and Biblical guidance, headed toward the center, wanting to walk in a way that pleases the Lord. The lure of the labyrinth is its profound simplicity as well as its simple profundity...one way to the center, walking step by step, keeping on the path will take me to the center. "Oh God, you are my God, and I will ever praise you. I will seek you in the morning and I will learn to walk in your ways, and step by step you lead me, and I will follow you all of my days." Amen.
p.s...thanks ladies, it was a great time.
.
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Crossing Over
Every year for the last 23 years I have read through the One Year Bible. Thus, by this time of the year I am usually in Deuteronomy rereading about the Exodus, the wandering in the wilderness and then come to what should be the climax of the Israelites’ story. We stand at the point where Joshua is about to usher the Israelites across the Jordan River into the Promised Land. At this point, we hear an incredible crescendo of music in the imaginary movie, the camera pans backward to take in the mass of humanity about to cross the Jordan. Imagine the scene as the twelve tribes of Israel swarm to the banks, readying themselves, their children, their flocks to cross the Jordan. But wait! There are not twelve tribes, there are only ten. Where are the Reubenites and Gadites? Cut the scene, someone go find the Reubenites and Gadites.
This year, as I reread this part of the history of God, the Lord has been stirring my mind with the phrase “crossing over.” I read how desperately Moses wanted to cross over the Jordan (DT 32:51 & 52). In fact, God finally tells him “enough.” I could imagine how eager Joshua might have been to take the people of God across the Jordan…after all, he was one of the two spies forty years earlier that had delivered the good report and encouraged the Israelites to go in and take the land God had promised them. He and Caleb alone were left of that entire generation. All the other people that Joshua was now about to lead across the Jordan were younger than he, the children of his peers, for none other of that generation survived the desert wanderings because of their unbelief. After almost forty years of wandering, hearing about the promised land of their forefathers Abraham, Jacob and Isaac, this generation was probably chomping at the bit to get into the promised land, the land flowing with milk and honey. They had heard about it all their lives. They were ready. At least one would think so.
In Numbers 32 we read an interesting little piece of history. There were two tribes who did not want to cross the Jordan: the Reubenites and the Gadites. Instead they went to Moses. 1 The Reubenites and Gadites, who had very large herds and flocks, saw that the lands of Jazer and Gilead were suitable for livestock. 2 So they came to Moses and Eleazar the priest and to the leaders of the community, and said, 3 "Ataroth, Dibon, Jazer, Nimrah, Heshbon, Elealeh, Sebam, Nebo and Beon- 4 the land the LORD subdued before the people of Israel—are suitable for livestock, and your servants have livestock. 5 If we have found favor in your eyes," they said, "let this land be given to your servants as our possession. Do not make us cross the Jordan."
After hearing about the Promised Land for forty years, after following Moses all through the desert and hearing about it, these two tribes begged Moses “do not make us cross the Jordan.” They could actually see the other side of the Jordan. They were within eye sight of the promised land; and yet they begged to be released. What is up with that?
What would make God’s people be willing to give up the promised land? Well, as I read this passage, I can think of two things. First, consider that the land called the Transjordan was “suitable for livestock.” The Reubenites and the Gadites were shepherds as were most of the Israelites. Remember that is what they told Pharaoh in the days of Joseph. “When Pharaoh calls you in and asks, “What is your occupation? You should answer, “We have tended livestock from our boyhood on, just as our fathers did.’ Then you will be allowed to settle in the region of Goshen for all shepherds are detestable to Egyptians.” (Gen 46:33, 34) All of the Israelites were shepherds. So, the occupation of the Reubenites and the Gadites probably wasn’t any different than that of the other tribes. In other words, it isn’t as if the Reubenites were shepherds and the other tribes were farmers, so their needs were different. Did they think God was going to give them land which wouldn’t be suitable?
Second, perhaps the Reubenites and Gadites were just weary. They had spent forty years in the desert. Forty years wandering around in the desert, and not just once; sometimes they went around the same mountain several times. Do you think the Reubenites and Gadites were perhaps just weary from the journey and were willing to settle for what was suitable? I don’t know about you, but if I were looking for a house to buy, “suitable” would not be the word that would describe my dream house. Suitable is…well, suitable. It will do. But it doesn’t come close to my dream, my promise. Suitable sounds so bland, so adequate, but it doesn’t sound like the promised land.
Maybe the Reubenites and the Gadites were willing to settle for what was suitable, maybe they were tired. In either case, the Reubenites and Gadites begged Moses: please don’t make us cross the Jordan. That’s like someone offering you a fine wine to drink and you would rather drink dishwater; or someone offers you your favorite meal after forty years of not having it, and you’d rather have saltines. Beloved, the Lord offered them the promised land. He wasn’t going to make them cross the Jordan.
6 Moses said to the Gadites and Reubenites, "Shall your countrymen go to war while you sit here? 7 Why do you discourage the Israelites from going over into the land the LORD has given them? 8 This is what your fathers did when I sent them from Kadesh Barnea to look over the land. 9 After they went up to the Valley of Eshcol and viewed the land, they discouraged the Israelites from entering the land the LORD had given them. 10 The LORD's anger was aroused that day and he swore this oath: 11 'Because they have not followed me wholeheartedly, not one of the men twenty years old or more who came up out of Egypt will see the land I promised on oath to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob- 12 not one except Caleb son of Jephunneh the Kenizzite and Joshua son of Nun, for they followed the LORD wholeheartedly.' 13 The LORD's anger burned against Israel and he made them wander in the desert forty years, until the whole generation of those who had done evil in his sight was gone.
14 "And here you are, a brood of sinners, standing in the place of your fathers and making the LORD even more angry with Israel. 15 If you turn away from following him, he will again leave all this people in the desert, and you will be the cause of their destruction."
16 Then they came up to him and said, "We would like to build pens here for our livestock and cities for our women and children. 17 But we are ready to arm ourselves and go ahead of the Israelites until we have brought them to their place. Meanwhile our women and children will live in fortified cities, for protection from the inhabitants of the land. 18 We will not return to our homes until every Israelite has received his inheritance. 19 We will not receive any inheritance with them on the other side of the Jordan, because our inheritance has come to us on the east side of the Jordan."
20 Then Moses said to them, "If you will do this—if you will arm yourselves before the LORD for battle, 21 and if all of you will go armed over the Jordan before the LORD until he has driven his enemies out before him- 22 then when the land is subdued before the LORD, you may return and be free from your obligation to the LORD and to Israel. And this land will be your possession before the LORD.
23 "But if you fail to do this, you will be sinning against the LORD; and you may be sure that your sin will find you out. 24 Build cities for your women and children, and pens for your flocks, but do what you have promised." 25 The Gadites and Reubenites said to Moses, "We your servants will do as our lord commands. 26 Our children and wives, our flocks and herds will remain here in the cities of Gilead. 27 But your servants, every man armed for battle, will cross over to fight before the LORD, just as our lord says." …
31 The Gadites and Reubenites answered, "Your servants will do what the LORD has said. 32 We will cross over before the LORD into Canaan armed, but the property we inherit will be on this side of the Jordan."
Beloved, consider this, not only were the two tribes willing to settle in the Transjordan, and not take their God given inheritance; they were prepared to help the other tribes conquer and possess their inheritance on the other side of the Jordan.
What, you ask, does this have to do with you? Do we believe that we each have a promised land, an inheritance on the other side of some river? Do we believe that God has destined each one of us for a particular destination: if we believe the devil the place has giants that are way bigger than we are, way meaner and their very looking at us will cause us to wither and if we believe the Lord, that destination is incredible and it’s beautiful and is flowing with milk and honey. Every step we take to the Jordan is ours once we step on it. “I will give you every step where you set your foot, as I promised Moses.” Josh 1:3 But the Promised Land is on the other side of the Jordan. Conquered land is not necessarily promised land. Conquered land leads us, step by step, to the Promised Land. The promised land is the destiny. It was the destiny of the people of God. This was what they had waited for.
And, instead, of crossing over the Jordan and taking what God had promised them, the Reubenites and the Gadites chose what was suitable. Don’t settle for less than what God wants to give you. Don’t settle for what is suitable, especially not when the promised land is so close, across the river, within spitting distance (as they say). Beloved, consider, are you weary and settling for what is suitable? Are you just too tired to walk another five steps? This is a critical time for the people of God, as a people and as individuals. We cannot settle for the Transjordan; even though it looks nice and is suitable. We must press on. We must strive in the Spirit to cross the Jordan. We must be strong and courageous and cross over.
I don’t know what your Jordan River looks like. But I know this: as a child of God, you have a destiny and you have an inheritance on the other side of the Jordan. The inheritance has already been surveyed by God, with exact metes and bounds, and it has your name on it. Do not give up. I wanted to quote Winston Churchill’s famous 1941 speech of “never give up, never give up, never give up.” Imagine my chagrin to discover that Churchill never said that. What he actually said was far better and far more apropos: "Never, never, in nothing great or small, large or petty, never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense. Never yield to force; never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy.'' So, in such manner shall the people of God cross the Jordan, forsaking what is suitable, overcoming great weariness, and so, shall the people of God take their inheritance, the Promised Land.
This year, as I reread this part of the history of God, the Lord has been stirring my mind with the phrase “crossing over.” I read how desperately Moses wanted to cross over the Jordan (DT 32:51 & 52). In fact, God finally tells him “enough.” I could imagine how eager Joshua might have been to take the people of God across the Jordan…after all, he was one of the two spies forty years earlier that had delivered the good report and encouraged the Israelites to go in and take the land God had promised them. He and Caleb alone were left of that entire generation. All the other people that Joshua was now about to lead across the Jordan were younger than he, the children of his peers, for none other of that generation survived the desert wanderings because of their unbelief. After almost forty years of wandering, hearing about the promised land of their forefathers Abraham, Jacob and Isaac, this generation was probably chomping at the bit to get into the promised land, the land flowing with milk and honey. They had heard about it all their lives. They were ready. At least one would think so.
In Numbers 32 we read an interesting little piece of history. There were two tribes who did not want to cross the Jordan: the Reubenites and the Gadites. Instead they went to Moses. 1 The Reubenites and Gadites, who had very large herds and flocks, saw that the lands of Jazer and Gilead were suitable for livestock. 2 So they came to Moses and Eleazar the priest and to the leaders of the community, and said, 3 "Ataroth, Dibon, Jazer, Nimrah, Heshbon, Elealeh, Sebam, Nebo and Beon- 4 the land the LORD subdued before the people of Israel—are suitable for livestock, and your servants have livestock. 5 If we have found favor in your eyes," they said, "let this land be given to your servants as our possession. Do not make us cross the Jordan."
After hearing about the Promised Land for forty years, after following Moses all through the desert and hearing about it, these two tribes begged Moses “do not make us cross the Jordan.” They could actually see the other side of the Jordan. They were within eye sight of the promised land; and yet they begged to be released. What is up with that?
What would make God’s people be willing to give up the promised land? Well, as I read this passage, I can think of two things. First, consider that the land called the Transjordan was “suitable for livestock.” The Reubenites and the Gadites were shepherds as were most of the Israelites. Remember that is what they told Pharaoh in the days of Joseph. “When Pharaoh calls you in and asks, “What is your occupation? You should answer, “We have tended livestock from our boyhood on, just as our fathers did.’ Then you will be allowed to settle in the region of Goshen for all shepherds are detestable to Egyptians.” (Gen 46:33, 34) All of the Israelites were shepherds. So, the occupation of the Reubenites and the Gadites probably wasn’t any different than that of the other tribes. In other words, it isn’t as if the Reubenites were shepherds and the other tribes were farmers, so their needs were different. Did they think God was going to give them land which wouldn’t be suitable?
Second, perhaps the Reubenites and Gadites were just weary. They had spent forty years in the desert. Forty years wandering around in the desert, and not just once; sometimes they went around the same mountain several times. Do you think the Reubenites and Gadites were perhaps just weary from the journey and were willing to settle for what was suitable? I don’t know about you, but if I were looking for a house to buy, “suitable” would not be the word that would describe my dream house. Suitable is…well, suitable. It will do. But it doesn’t come close to my dream, my promise. Suitable sounds so bland, so adequate, but it doesn’t sound like the promised land.
Maybe the Reubenites and the Gadites were willing to settle for what was suitable, maybe they were tired. In either case, the Reubenites and Gadites begged Moses: please don’t make us cross the Jordan. That’s like someone offering you a fine wine to drink and you would rather drink dishwater; or someone offers you your favorite meal after forty years of not having it, and you’d rather have saltines. Beloved, the Lord offered them the promised land. He wasn’t going to make them cross the Jordan.
6 Moses said to the Gadites and Reubenites, "Shall your countrymen go to war while you sit here? 7 Why do you discourage the Israelites from going over into the land the LORD has given them? 8 This is what your fathers did when I sent them from Kadesh Barnea to look over the land. 9 After they went up to the Valley of Eshcol and viewed the land, they discouraged the Israelites from entering the land the LORD had given them. 10 The LORD's anger was aroused that day and he swore this oath: 11 'Because they have not followed me wholeheartedly, not one of the men twenty years old or more who came up out of Egypt will see the land I promised on oath to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob- 12 not one except Caleb son of Jephunneh the Kenizzite and Joshua son of Nun, for they followed the LORD wholeheartedly.' 13 The LORD's anger burned against Israel and he made them wander in the desert forty years, until the whole generation of those who had done evil in his sight was gone.
14 "And here you are, a brood of sinners, standing in the place of your fathers and making the LORD even more angry with Israel. 15 If you turn away from following him, he will again leave all this people in the desert, and you will be the cause of their destruction."
16 Then they came up to him and said, "We would like to build pens here for our livestock and cities for our women and children. 17 But we are ready to arm ourselves and go ahead of the Israelites until we have brought them to their place. Meanwhile our women and children will live in fortified cities, for protection from the inhabitants of the land. 18 We will not return to our homes until every Israelite has received his inheritance. 19 We will not receive any inheritance with them on the other side of the Jordan, because our inheritance has come to us on the east side of the Jordan."
20 Then Moses said to them, "If you will do this—if you will arm yourselves before the LORD for battle, 21 and if all of you will go armed over the Jordan before the LORD until he has driven his enemies out before him- 22 then when the land is subdued before the LORD, you may return and be free from your obligation to the LORD and to Israel. And this land will be your possession before the LORD.
23 "But if you fail to do this, you will be sinning against the LORD; and you may be sure that your sin will find you out. 24 Build cities for your women and children, and pens for your flocks, but do what you have promised." 25 The Gadites and Reubenites said to Moses, "We your servants will do as our lord commands. 26 Our children and wives, our flocks and herds will remain here in the cities of Gilead. 27 But your servants, every man armed for battle, will cross over to fight before the LORD, just as our lord says." …
31 The Gadites and Reubenites answered, "Your servants will do what the LORD has said. 32 We will cross over before the LORD into Canaan armed, but the property we inherit will be on this side of the Jordan."
Beloved, consider this, not only were the two tribes willing to settle in the Transjordan, and not take their God given inheritance; they were prepared to help the other tribes conquer and possess their inheritance on the other side of the Jordan.
What, you ask, does this have to do with you? Do we believe that we each have a promised land, an inheritance on the other side of some river? Do we believe that God has destined each one of us for a particular destination: if we believe the devil the place has giants that are way bigger than we are, way meaner and their very looking at us will cause us to wither and if we believe the Lord, that destination is incredible and it’s beautiful and is flowing with milk and honey. Every step we take to the Jordan is ours once we step on it. “I will give you every step where you set your foot, as I promised Moses.” Josh 1:3 But the Promised Land is on the other side of the Jordan. Conquered land is not necessarily promised land. Conquered land leads us, step by step, to the Promised Land. The promised land is the destiny. It was the destiny of the people of God. This was what they had waited for.
And, instead, of crossing over the Jordan and taking what God had promised them, the Reubenites and the Gadites chose what was suitable. Don’t settle for less than what God wants to give you. Don’t settle for what is suitable, especially not when the promised land is so close, across the river, within spitting distance (as they say). Beloved, consider, are you weary and settling for what is suitable? Are you just too tired to walk another five steps? This is a critical time for the people of God, as a people and as individuals. We cannot settle for the Transjordan; even though it looks nice and is suitable. We must press on. We must strive in the Spirit to cross the Jordan. We must be strong and courageous and cross over.
I don’t know what your Jordan River looks like. But I know this: as a child of God, you have a destiny and you have an inheritance on the other side of the Jordan. The inheritance has already been surveyed by God, with exact metes and bounds, and it has your name on it. Do not give up. I wanted to quote Winston Churchill’s famous 1941 speech of “never give up, never give up, never give up.” Imagine my chagrin to discover that Churchill never said that. What he actually said was far better and far more apropos: "Never, never, in nothing great or small, large or petty, never give in except to convictions of honour and good sense. Never yield to force; never yield to the apparently overwhelming might of the enemy.'' So, in such manner shall the people of God cross the Jordan, forsaking what is suitable, overcoming great weariness, and so, shall the people of God take their inheritance, the Promised Land.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Closing the Gap
This is my follow up to Following at a Distance. It is the good news which follows the bad news of our betrayals, our denials and our shame. It is the good news in light of the reality that even as zealous, ardent and passionate believers, we can, and often do follow Jesus at a distance. Then when we are on the way at our safe, yet uncomfortable distance, we feel that piercing gaze, we remember our bravado, our resolve and our boldness… and we weep bitterly. Today, I want to share with you about how Jesus closed the gap of Peter’s distance.
Who knows where Peter, having been cowed by a servant girl and after bringing down oaths and curses on two men who dared to remember that Peter had been with Jesus (although that fact a week earlier as Jesus rode the colt into Jerusalem would have been a badge of honor), went. Maybe he fled to his boat. In fact, I rather think he went someplace far away from the other disciples. His shame and guilt might have forced him to seek isolation (it has a way of doing that). And if he went to some place where the disciples and he might have been with Jesus, perhaps they all exchanged “how awful I am” stories. (Isn’t that what we do?) Beloved, the fact is, when we have disappointed ourselves and our Lord, we so often want to hide from others and from the Lord. We get consumed by the “how can He ever forgive me” thought. So the default thought is, how can I undo this.
The beauty of Resurrection Sunday is we can do nothing. But oh, can God ever do the impossible. Let’s look at how Jesus restored the relationship with Peter. Peter’s denial and betrayal started with following at a distance. That denial created a breach, a break, a chasm, a gap in the relationship. Jesus restored it; I call that restoration, closing the gap. It really happens in three separate steps. First, we see that God raised Jesus from the dead. Second, Jesus calls for Peter specifically. Third, Jesus has a heart to heart conversation with Peter which restores him and renews him. And it really is all about Jesus and at the same time it’s also all about Peter, just because He loves Peter.
No one can really describe how God raised Jesus from the dead. No one knows what that looked like. All we know is that everything was very neat. It’s not as if Jesus exploded out of the tomb, although He could have. I don’t really picture Him as the Incredible Hulk bursting out of His grave clothes and shattering the tomb’s opening. God doesn’t leave messes. The grave clothes were lying there in the tomb, and the burial cloth that had been around Jesus’ head was neatly folded. (John 20) The stone which had covered the tomb was rolled away (Luke 24). The fact is, somehow between Friday and Sunday morning, Jesus was raised from the dead. That event was critical and crucial to Peter’s restoration yet Peter had nothing to do with it and no one ever saw it happen. Peter, like most of us, when he saw the strips of linen, just “went away, wondering to himself what happened.” (Luke 24:12)
The second part of the restoration happened when the angel told Mary, the mother of Jesus, Mary Magdalene and Salome, “But go, tell his disciples and Peter, “He is going ahead of you into Galilee.” (Mark 16:7) He could have said “go tell those disciples of Jesus…” He could have said tell all the other disciples except for Peter who denied Him three times, I’m going to really make him pay for that one.” He could have said “tell anyone who really cares about me and really is serious about following Jesus.” But the angel didn’t. The angels get their marching orders from God; they say what they’re supposed to say. And this angel was very specific: tell the disciples and Peter. That’s beautiful. That’s merciful. And that’s incredible. Jesus just wanted Mary to make sure that Peter knew He really was alive just as He had said. When I ask one of my kids to call everyone for dinner and make sure you get so and so up, because they are sleeping, the one who has received the instruction will scream from the bottom of the steps for everyone else, and then go straight into the sleeping child’s room and yell into his or her ear: DINNER, NOW! If I want to make sure one person in particular gets the message, I single them out using their name. It always works. Jesus singled Peter out. Peter was going to get the message: He has risen. He is not here. He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see Him, just as He told you.”
Now here is the critical third part of closing the gap, friends. We don’t read anything else about Peter for a while. There are more times that Jesus appears to the disciples on the road to Emmaus, to all the disciples, a special appearance for Thomas. Though we have every reason to believe that Peter was present when Jesus appeared to the other disciples, we do not have restoration between Jesus and Peter yet. It takes more than Jesus being raised from the dead, and it takes more than Jesus calling Peter. In point of fact, it is a week, other appearance and a special conversation before restoration occurs.
It happened on the beach and is recorded in John 21. It’s really quite amazing because Peter knows Jesus is alive, risen from the dead, just as He said. But he clearly has no idea what he is supposed to do with that piece of remarkable information. So, being Peter, he declares: “I’m going out to fish.” I sort of imagine Peter thinking to himself: I may not know what to do with Jesus, but I do know how to fish! Of course, he catches nothing. Jesus, standing on the shore watching all this unfold, suggests a better fishing hole and immediately John recognizes Jesus. Peter jumps overboard into the water (no walking on water for him this time) to Jesus. “They knew it was the Lord.” (v. 12) And here Jesus initiates the most critical conversation Peter would ever have: “Simon, son of John, do you truly love me more than these?” It is the kind of question that would take Peter’s breath away because it might have reminded him of his declaration that “even if all fall away on account of you, I never will. … Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you.” (MT 26: 33, 34) And Peter would instantly know that in Jesus’ three questions, He was recounting three denials. Beloved, this was not a case of Jesus rubbing salt in Peter’s wounds. It was Jesus dealing with Peter’s guilt and shame and taking it away, every painful and bitter piece of it. That is how the gap has to be closed; that is how we are restored: by letting Jesus initiate and letting Him lay before us our guilt and shame and allowing Him to take it away.
There was nothing Peter could do to close the gap. There was nothing he had in his human, fleshly arsenal that would ever make up for following at a distance and for denying and betraying three times. It takes a God who raises Jesus from the dead. It takes a God who calls us by name and says: I just want you to know: I’m alive and I did just what I said I would do. It takes a God who sits on the shore with us and commissions us to love and feed His lambs.
Friday I wrote about how we choose to follow at a distance because it is simply too painful to stay close to Jesus; we are afraid. I didn’t even realize at the time I wrote that I was really writing about me. It took Good Friday for me to realize that I was following at a distance. I have more in common with my friend Peter than I like to admit. However, Saturday morning I let Him take away my guilt and my shame and we had a little heart to heart. You see, He still closes the gap for each one of us. Whether it is Peter, or you or me, we have all chosen at times to follow at a distance and in His grace and mercy He comes forward in gentle power, calls us by name and restores us.
It’s Sunday…Resurrection Sunday. Hallelujah, He is risen indeed.
Who knows where Peter, having been cowed by a servant girl and after bringing down oaths and curses on two men who dared to remember that Peter had been with Jesus (although that fact a week earlier as Jesus rode the colt into Jerusalem would have been a badge of honor), went. Maybe he fled to his boat. In fact, I rather think he went someplace far away from the other disciples. His shame and guilt might have forced him to seek isolation (it has a way of doing that). And if he went to some place where the disciples and he might have been with Jesus, perhaps they all exchanged “how awful I am” stories. (Isn’t that what we do?) Beloved, the fact is, when we have disappointed ourselves and our Lord, we so often want to hide from others and from the Lord. We get consumed by the “how can He ever forgive me” thought. So the default thought is, how can I undo this.
The beauty of Resurrection Sunday is we can do nothing. But oh, can God ever do the impossible. Let’s look at how Jesus restored the relationship with Peter. Peter’s denial and betrayal started with following at a distance. That denial created a breach, a break, a chasm, a gap in the relationship. Jesus restored it; I call that restoration, closing the gap. It really happens in three separate steps. First, we see that God raised Jesus from the dead. Second, Jesus calls for Peter specifically. Third, Jesus has a heart to heart conversation with Peter which restores him and renews him. And it really is all about Jesus and at the same time it’s also all about Peter, just because He loves Peter.
No one can really describe how God raised Jesus from the dead. No one knows what that looked like. All we know is that everything was very neat. It’s not as if Jesus exploded out of the tomb, although He could have. I don’t really picture Him as the Incredible Hulk bursting out of His grave clothes and shattering the tomb’s opening. God doesn’t leave messes. The grave clothes were lying there in the tomb, and the burial cloth that had been around Jesus’ head was neatly folded. (John 20) The stone which had covered the tomb was rolled away (Luke 24). The fact is, somehow between Friday and Sunday morning, Jesus was raised from the dead. That event was critical and crucial to Peter’s restoration yet Peter had nothing to do with it and no one ever saw it happen. Peter, like most of us, when he saw the strips of linen, just “went away, wondering to himself what happened.” (Luke 24:12)
The second part of the restoration happened when the angel told Mary, the mother of Jesus, Mary Magdalene and Salome, “But go, tell his disciples and Peter, “He is going ahead of you into Galilee.” (Mark 16:7) He could have said “go tell those disciples of Jesus…” He could have said tell all the other disciples except for Peter who denied Him three times, I’m going to really make him pay for that one.” He could have said “tell anyone who really cares about me and really is serious about following Jesus.” But the angel didn’t. The angels get their marching orders from God; they say what they’re supposed to say. And this angel was very specific: tell the disciples and Peter. That’s beautiful. That’s merciful. And that’s incredible. Jesus just wanted Mary to make sure that Peter knew He really was alive just as He had said. When I ask one of my kids to call everyone for dinner and make sure you get so and so up, because they are sleeping, the one who has received the instruction will scream from the bottom of the steps for everyone else, and then go straight into the sleeping child’s room and yell into his or her ear: DINNER, NOW! If I want to make sure one person in particular gets the message, I single them out using their name. It always works. Jesus singled Peter out. Peter was going to get the message: He has risen. He is not here. He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see Him, just as He told you.”
Now here is the critical third part of closing the gap, friends. We don’t read anything else about Peter for a while. There are more times that Jesus appears to the disciples on the road to Emmaus, to all the disciples, a special appearance for Thomas. Though we have every reason to believe that Peter was present when Jesus appeared to the other disciples, we do not have restoration between Jesus and Peter yet. It takes more than Jesus being raised from the dead, and it takes more than Jesus calling Peter. In point of fact, it is a week, other appearance and a special conversation before restoration occurs.
It happened on the beach and is recorded in John 21. It’s really quite amazing because Peter knows Jesus is alive, risen from the dead, just as He said. But he clearly has no idea what he is supposed to do with that piece of remarkable information. So, being Peter, he declares: “I’m going out to fish.” I sort of imagine Peter thinking to himself: I may not know what to do with Jesus, but I do know how to fish! Of course, he catches nothing. Jesus, standing on the shore watching all this unfold, suggests a better fishing hole and immediately John recognizes Jesus. Peter jumps overboard into the water (no walking on water for him this time) to Jesus. “They knew it was the Lord.” (v. 12) And here Jesus initiates the most critical conversation Peter would ever have: “Simon, son of John, do you truly love me more than these?” It is the kind of question that would take Peter’s breath away because it might have reminded him of his declaration that “even if all fall away on account of you, I never will. … Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you.” (MT 26: 33, 34) And Peter would instantly know that in Jesus’ three questions, He was recounting three denials. Beloved, this was not a case of Jesus rubbing salt in Peter’s wounds. It was Jesus dealing with Peter’s guilt and shame and taking it away, every painful and bitter piece of it. That is how the gap has to be closed; that is how we are restored: by letting Jesus initiate and letting Him lay before us our guilt and shame and allowing Him to take it away.
There was nothing Peter could do to close the gap. There was nothing he had in his human, fleshly arsenal that would ever make up for following at a distance and for denying and betraying three times. It takes a God who raises Jesus from the dead. It takes a God who calls us by name and says: I just want you to know: I’m alive and I did just what I said I would do. It takes a God who sits on the shore with us and commissions us to love and feed His lambs.
Friday I wrote about how we choose to follow at a distance because it is simply too painful to stay close to Jesus; we are afraid. I didn’t even realize at the time I wrote that I was really writing about me. It took Good Friday for me to realize that I was following at a distance. I have more in common with my friend Peter than I like to admit. However, Saturday morning I let Him take away my guilt and my shame and we had a little heart to heart. You see, He still closes the gap for each one of us. Whether it is Peter, or you or me, we have all chosen at times to follow at a distance and in His grace and mercy He comes forward in gentle power, calls us by name and restores us.
It’s Sunday…Resurrection Sunday. Hallelujah, He is risen indeed.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Following at a Distance
It is Holy Week. I usually break from reading my Bible in a Year at this time and reflect on the Passion of Jesus. Every year, it seems, God opens my eyes and heart to something different, something new. It blesses me and delights me when God does that; it is a reminder of how deep, wide, high, long and broad the richness and beauty of His word is. So it came as a bit of a surprise to me when the phrase "at a distance" caught my attention the first three days of this week. I just thought it was a little odd. But, it appears twice in the Gospel of Luke and when God says something twice, I usually listen extra well.
Luke 22:54-62 is the account of Peter who followed "at a distance" as the chief priests, the officers of the temple guard and the elders seized Jesus and led Him away to the house of the High Priest. There, as Jesus was interrogated and abused by the Chief Priest, Peter sat by the fire in the courtyard. A servant girl looked at him and said "This man was with Him." Maybe she had seen Peter and Jesus at the market, or at the temple when Jesus turned the tables over, or maybe she had seen Peter with Jesus as Jesus rode the colt into Jerusalem. We don't know where or when, but she had seen Peter together with Jesus and associated them together. They belonged together and why, she may have thought, wasn't he with Jesus now?
Shortly thereafter, while still warming himself at the fire, another person identified Peter as having been with Jesus. His answer: "Man, I am not!" And again, at verse 59, we read that an hour later, someone said "this fellow was with Him, for He is a Galilean." Peter, according to Matthew 26, answered with oaths and cursing "Man, I don't know what you are talking about." What follows then is perhaps one of the saddest and most poignant verses in the Word: "Just as Peter was speaking, the rooster crowed. The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him:"Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times." And he went outside and wept bitterly." (Lk 22:60-62)
Denied Him three times. Peter. Peter who was the first to confess Jesus as the Christ. Peter who was one of the three disciples taken up to see the Lord Jesus transfigured. Peter who was brazen enough to ask to walk on water. Peter who couldn't decide whether he should let Jesus wash all of him or none of him. Peter who had been asked to prepare the Passover meal. Peter who had been asked by Jesus to come and watch with Him in the Garden of Gethsemane. Peter who boldly drew his sword and cut off Malchus' ear. Peter who had so confidently declared "even if I have to die with you, I will never leave you." Peter, who had seen Jesus raise Lazarus from the dead, who had seen Him heal Jairus' daughter, whose own mother-in-law had been healed by Jesus. He saw Him teach the masses, feed the five thousand, heal blind Bartimaeus. Peter had seen miracles, had revelations and victories with Jesus. But now, now when it counted, he followed at a distance.
And why? Why would Peter follow at a distance? It could not have been disinterest; otherwise he would not have followed at all. It was not hatred of Jesus because remembering Jesus’ words and seeing the piercing look of Jesus made Peter weep bitterly. I submit to you that it was fear…fear made Peter follow at a distance.
Think about it…things were spinning out of control. From the time that Peter lopped Malchus’ ear off to the courtyard…it was all so not what Peter wanted or planned. And being out of control usually makes us very, very afraid. And when we are afraid, it is usually just easier to follow at a distance.
How often do we do the very same thing? Yes, Jesus, I can read my Bible, go to my small group, show up at church, but I can’t be too close to you right now. It might cost me, it might hurt. Yes, I’ve seen great things, I’ve beheld answered prayers. But I just cannot be too close to you. Right now, things are just too painful. Things are too confusing. Things are too difficult. Life is just taking too many unexpected turns. Of course I’ll follow you, but forgive me if it’s at a distance.
Beloved, this is an odd verse; it isn’t exactly a verse most preachers or teachers will “camp on” at Easter. And I really am not sure why God chose this verse for me to write about. Except that the second time that at a distance is used is in Luke 23:47-49. “
47The centurion, seeing what had happened, praised God and said, "Surely this was a righteous man." 48When all the people who had gathered to witness this sight saw what took place, they beat their breasts and went away. 49But all those who knew him, including the women who had followed him from Galilee, stood at a distance, watching these things.
The centurion saw what happened, had a revelation and praised God. Even the people who had demanded “crucify Him” saw what happened and beat their breasts. But the women who had walked with Him, who had followed Him, stood at a distance and watched. The ones closest to Him stood at a distance.
Nothing was turning out the way anyone thought it would. Everything was going wrong. And so, it is easier to stand at a distance and watch, rather than get too close to Jesus.
I am sure there are some who may be reading this whose lives are spinning out of control, or who feel like everything is going wrong, nothing is going according to plan. And it is easier to stay at a distance. Retreat is a safe option, but retreating from Jesus is never a safe option. Beloved, this is the time to stay close. Draw near, even in the midst of anguish and pain, draw near.
You see, although it may be Friday…Sunday is coming.
Luke 22:54-62 is the account of Peter who followed "at a distance" as the chief priests, the officers of the temple guard and the elders seized Jesus and led Him away to the house of the High Priest. There, as Jesus was interrogated and abused by the Chief Priest, Peter sat by the fire in the courtyard. A servant girl looked at him and said "This man was with Him." Maybe she had seen Peter and Jesus at the market, or at the temple when Jesus turned the tables over, or maybe she had seen Peter with Jesus as Jesus rode the colt into Jerusalem. We don't know where or when, but she had seen Peter together with Jesus and associated them together. They belonged together and why, she may have thought, wasn't he with Jesus now?
Shortly thereafter, while still warming himself at the fire, another person identified Peter as having been with Jesus. His answer: "Man, I am not!" And again, at verse 59, we read that an hour later, someone said "this fellow was with Him, for He is a Galilean." Peter, according to Matthew 26, answered with oaths and cursing "Man, I don't know what you are talking about." What follows then is perhaps one of the saddest and most poignant verses in the Word: "Just as Peter was speaking, the rooster crowed. The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him:"Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times." And he went outside and wept bitterly." (Lk 22:60-62)
Denied Him three times. Peter. Peter who was the first to confess Jesus as the Christ. Peter who was one of the three disciples taken up to see the Lord Jesus transfigured. Peter who was brazen enough to ask to walk on water. Peter who couldn't decide whether he should let Jesus wash all of him or none of him. Peter who had been asked to prepare the Passover meal. Peter who had been asked by Jesus to come and watch with Him in the Garden of Gethsemane. Peter who boldly drew his sword and cut off Malchus' ear. Peter who had so confidently declared "even if I have to die with you, I will never leave you." Peter, who had seen Jesus raise Lazarus from the dead, who had seen Him heal Jairus' daughter, whose own mother-in-law had been healed by Jesus. He saw Him teach the masses, feed the five thousand, heal blind Bartimaeus. Peter had seen miracles, had revelations and victories with Jesus. But now, now when it counted, he followed at a distance.
And why? Why would Peter follow at a distance? It could not have been disinterest; otherwise he would not have followed at all. It was not hatred of Jesus because remembering Jesus’ words and seeing the piercing look of Jesus made Peter weep bitterly. I submit to you that it was fear…fear made Peter follow at a distance.
Think about it…things were spinning out of control. From the time that Peter lopped Malchus’ ear off to the courtyard…it was all so not what Peter wanted or planned. And being out of control usually makes us very, very afraid. And when we are afraid, it is usually just easier to follow at a distance.
How often do we do the very same thing? Yes, Jesus, I can read my Bible, go to my small group, show up at church, but I can’t be too close to you right now. It might cost me, it might hurt. Yes, I’ve seen great things, I’ve beheld answered prayers. But I just cannot be too close to you. Right now, things are just too painful. Things are too confusing. Things are too difficult. Life is just taking too many unexpected turns. Of course I’ll follow you, but forgive me if it’s at a distance.
Beloved, this is an odd verse; it isn’t exactly a verse most preachers or teachers will “camp on” at Easter. And I really am not sure why God chose this verse for me to write about. Except that the second time that at a distance is used is in Luke 23:47-49. “
47The centurion, seeing what had happened, praised God and said, "Surely this was a righteous man." 48When all the people who had gathered to witness this sight saw what took place, they beat their breasts and went away. 49But all those who knew him, including the women who had followed him from Galilee, stood at a distance, watching these things.
The centurion saw what happened, had a revelation and praised God. Even the people who had demanded “crucify Him” saw what happened and beat their breasts. But the women who had walked with Him, who had followed Him, stood at a distance and watched. The ones closest to Him stood at a distance.
Nothing was turning out the way anyone thought it would. Everything was going wrong. And so, it is easier to stand at a distance and watch, rather than get too close to Jesus.
I am sure there are some who may be reading this whose lives are spinning out of control, or who feel like everything is going wrong, nothing is going according to plan. And it is easier to stay at a distance. Retreat is a safe option, but retreating from Jesus is never a safe option. Beloved, this is the time to stay close. Draw near, even in the midst of anguish and pain, draw near.
You see, although it may be Friday…Sunday is coming.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?
My husband and I have four children, two of them eleven year old twin boys, all four of them avid athletes. The rules of eating in our household are as follows: eat a lot, eat without ceasing, eat variety, and when finished, eat some more. And, we are a pastor’s family…so we often have people over unexpectedly, sometimes one, sometimes, two or three, sometimes a family. It’s fun. It’s adventurous. Sometimes, it’s taco soup for sixteen and sometimes it’s Indonesian stir fry for twelve. But I have never fed five thousand people. Never. And I have never fed five thousand with three loaves and two fish. And, I do not know what I would do if my husband told me he had just invited five thousand people and their families home from work. “Honey, I’m home. And, I invited everyone in the church and the next five churches over and their families for Sunday lunch. Hope that’s okay. Sorry, I didn’t have time to call.” Ah yes, new uses for frying pans…
But I digress.
John 6 is a beautiful story about a huge surprise dinner to which Jesus invited five thousand people and his disciples. Let’s get to the text:
1Some time after this, Jesus crossed to the far shore of the Sea of Galilee (that is, the Sea of Tiberias), 2and a great crowd of people followed him because they saw the miraculous signs he had performed on the sick. 3Then Jesus went up on a mountainside and sat down with his disciples. 4The Jewish Passover Feast was near. 5When Jesus looked up and saw a great crowd coming toward him, he said to Philip, "Where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?" 6He asked this only to test him, for he already had in mind what he was going to do. 7Philip answered him, "Eight months' wages[a] would not buy enough bread for each one to have a bite!"
8Another of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter's brother, spoke up, 9"Here is a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish, but how far will they go among so many?"
10Jesus said, "Have the people sit down." There was plenty of grass in that place, and the men sat down, about five thousand of them. 11Jesus then took the loaves, gave thanks, and distr ibuted to those who were seated as much as they wanted. He did the same with the fish.”
This is a very familiar story. We have read it and perhaps even taught it many, many times. But, one day I was reading it and I saw something for the very first time. (I love when God does that!) Before I get to that little gem, let’s go back and remember how the story plays out.
People had been crowding around Jesus all day. They followed him to listen, to learn, to "get a miracle." It’s the kind of thing that wears me out (not that I have thousands following me, but I do have four children and that’s hard enough some days.). I suspect, however, that Jesus did not mind. But, after the whole day, people were still following Him. Now Jesus, instead of sending them away, turns to Philip and asks “where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?”
From the disciples, we find two reactions to Jesus’ question.
Philip, being an honest and tactless sort of guy, said in the presence of the guests (no doubt), “Eight months' wages[a] would not buy enough bread for each one to have a bite!" Hear the hopelessness and maybe even sarcasm in his comment?
Andrew, on the other hand, answers in his own innocent and sheepish kind of voice “Here is a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish, but how far will they go among so many?" I imagine him saying it somewhat hopefully and helpfully and then swallowing his words realizing the silliness of his statement and offering. But at least he offered it. Notice Jesus was not testing Andrew’s heart, but he was testing Philip’s heart.
The little phrase that caused me to rejoice and weep with relief was “he already had in mind what he was going to do.” Isn’t that incredible? Jesus already knew what He was going to do. He asked Philip not because He didn’t have a solution to the problem. He asked not because he thought the disciples had a better idea. He asked to test Philip’s heart. Philip’s heart responded with the flesh: “what can I do” “what can I produce?” “how can I figure this problem out?”
Beloved, the test was not to see if Philip could figure it out. Of course he couldn’t. Jesus knew that Philip could not figure out a way to successfully and satisfyingly feed 5000 surprise dinner guests. The test was to see if Philip knew the ways of Jesus yet. The text is clear: Jesus already had in mind what He was going to do. He just wanted to see if Philip knew Him well enough yet, to know that Jesus knew and to turn to Him and say “I’m not sure Jesus. But YOU know, and that’s enough. Do you want to let me in on the secret? Tell me what to do.”
So many times, I am faced with a similar situation: 5000 surprise dinner guests and the cupboard is bare. Or, a trial with one of the children. Or, a difficult relationship. Or, spiritual dryness or wandering. And Jesus asks me the question, phrased ever so slightly differently: Ellen, where can we find strength for this pain? Ellen, where can we find finances for this adoption? Ellen, where can we find work in this troubled economy? Jesus asks me this to test my heart. Because my Jesus already has in His mind what He is going to do. He just wants to see if I will turn to Him or try to figure it out all by myself and then either give up in despair or disgust or if I am going to see how far I can stretch my paltry resources.
Sometimes, I answer like Andrew. Well, Lord, with regard to that issue, I have 53 cents but how much good will that do in light of soaring costs?
Sometimes I answer like Philip. Well Lord, might as well forget it. Eight months wages couldn’t be enough!
Usually, I answer like Ellen, which is a little bit of Philip and a little bit of Andrew. And then I remember that Jesus already has in His mind what He is going to do. The response He is looking for is: Lord, I don’t know how to handle this problem. But You know; You already have in mind what you are going to do. By your grace, let me part of Your solution.”
Beloved friend, what does your unexpected company look like? Is it literally feeding hungry people? Is it unexpected bills? Is it a broken relationship or some betrayal? Is it a pain in your heart that time has not seemed to mend? Is it some awful physical illness? Jesus already has in mind what He is going to do. Answer Him: Lord, You alone know the answer to this question. Tell me what is on your heart.
There is an added beauty which we find in the ending of the story: In verse 11 we read that Jesus distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted. He did the same with the fish. 12When they had all had enough to eat, he said to his disciples, "Gather the pieces that are left over. Let nothing be wasted." 13So they gathered them and filled twelve baskets with the pieces of the five barley loaves left over by those who had eaten.” Everyone who ate was satisfied. None went home hungry. And there was ample food left over. It was a feast day for the five thousand …and for Philip and Andrew as well. When we turn to Jesus and discover what He has in His mind to do, we find our satisfaction and our fullness. Amen.
But I digress.
John 6 is a beautiful story about a huge surprise dinner to which Jesus invited five thousand people and his disciples. Let’s get to the text:
1Some time after this, Jesus crossed to the far shore of the Sea of Galilee (that is, the Sea of Tiberias), 2and a great crowd of people followed him because they saw the miraculous signs he had performed on the sick. 3Then Jesus went up on a mountainside and sat down with his disciples. 4The Jewish Passover Feast was near. 5When Jesus looked up and saw a great crowd coming toward him, he said to Philip, "Where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?" 6He asked this only to test him, for he already had in mind what he was going to do. 7Philip answered him, "Eight months' wages[a] would not buy enough bread for each one to have a bite!"
8Another of his disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter's brother, spoke up, 9"Here is a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish, but how far will they go among so many?"
10Jesus said, "Have the people sit down." There was plenty of grass in that place, and the men sat down, about five thousand of them. 11Jesus then took the loaves, gave thanks, and distr ibuted to those who were seated as much as they wanted. He did the same with the fish.”
This is a very familiar story. We have read it and perhaps even taught it many, many times. But, one day I was reading it and I saw something for the very first time. (I love when God does that!) Before I get to that little gem, let’s go back and remember how the story plays out.
People had been crowding around Jesus all day. They followed him to listen, to learn, to "get a miracle." It’s the kind of thing that wears me out (not that I have thousands following me, but I do have four children and that’s hard enough some days.). I suspect, however, that Jesus did not mind. But, after the whole day, people were still following Him. Now Jesus, instead of sending them away, turns to Philip and asks “where shall we buy bread for these people to eat?”
From the disciples, we find two reactions to Jesus’ question.
Philip, being an honest and tactless sort of guy, said in the presence of the guests (no doubt), “Eight months' wages[a] would not buy enough bread for each one to have a bite!" Hear the hopelessness and maybe even sarcasm in his comment?
Andrew, on the other hand, answers in his own innocent and sheepish kind of voice “Here is a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish, but how far will they go among so many?" I imagine him saying it somewhat hopefully and helpfully and then swallowing his words realizing the silliness of his statement and offering. But at least he offered it. Notice Jesus was not testing Andrew’s heart, but he was testing Philip’s heart.
The little phrase that caused me to rejoice and weep with relief was “he already had in mind what he was going to do.” Isn’t that incredible? Jesus already knew what He was going to do. He asked Philip not because He didn’t have a solution to the problem. He asked not because he thought the disciples had a better idea. He asked to test Philip’s heart. Philip’s heart responded with the flesh: “what can I do” “what can I produce?” “how can I figure this problem out?”
Beloved, the test was not to see if Philip could figure it out. Of course he couldn’t. Jesus knew that Philip could not figure out a way to successfully and satisfyingly feed 5000 surprise dinner guests. The test was to see if Philip knew the ways of Jesus yet. The text is clear: Jesus already had in mind what He was going to do. He just wanted to see if Philip knew Him well enough yet, to know that Jesus knew and to turn to Him and say “I’m not sure Jesus. But YOU know, and that’s enough. Do you want to let me in on the secret? Tell me what to do.”
So many times, I am faced with a similar situation: 5000 surprise dinner guests and the cupboard is bare. Or, a trial with one of the children. Or, a difficult relationship. Or, spiritual dryness or wandering. And Jesus asks me the question, phrased ever so slightly differently: Ellen, where can we find strength for this pain? Ellen, where can we find finances for this adoption? Ellen, where can we find work in this troubled economy? Jesus asks me this to test my heart. Because my Jesus already has in His mind what He is going to do. He just wants to see if I will turn to Him or try to figure it out all by myself and then either give up in despair or disgust or if I am going to see how far I can stretch my paltry resources.
Sometimes, I answer like Andrew. Well, Lord, with regard to that issue, I have 53 cents but how much good will that do in light of soaring costs?
Sometimes I answer like Philip. Well Lord, might as well forget it. Eight months wages couldn’t be enough!
Usually, I answer like Ellen, which is a little bit of Philip and a little bit of Andrew. And then I remember that Jesus already has in His mind what He is going to do. The response He is looking for is: Lord, I don’t know how to handle this problem. But You know; You already have in mind what you are going to do. By your grace, let me part of Your solution.”
Beloved friend, what does your unexpected company look like? Is it literally feeding hungry people? Is it unexpected bills? Is it a broken relationship or some betrayal? Is it a pain in your heart that time has not seemed to mend? Is it some awful physical illness? Jesus already has in mind what He is going to do. Answer Him: Lord, You alone know the answer to this question. Tell me what is on your heart.
There is an added beauty which we find in the ending of the story: In verse 11 we read that Jesus distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted. He did the same with the fish. 12When they had all had enough to eat, he said to his disciples, "Gather the pieces that are left over. Let nothing be wasted." 13So they gathered them and filled twelve baskets with the pieces of the five barley loaves left over by those who had eaten.” Everyone who ate was satisfied. None went home hungry. And there was ample food left over. It was a feast day for the five thousand …and for Philip and Andrew as well. When we turn to Jesus and discover what He has in His mind to do, we find our satisfaction and our fullness. Amen.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Oh, and One More Thing
(I Kings 17:1-16)
Sometimes I feel like I cannot pick up one more thing to do. If one of my children asks me to take them one more place, arrange one more playtime, or if my husband asks me to get childcare for one more meeting, one more person asks one more thing, I really feel that I will erupt. The newspaper the next day will show black and white pictures of debris strewn all over Columbus, Ohio with the headline banner sprawled across the Dispatch: Mt. St. Ellen Blows Her Top. I was having a day like that begging the Lord to please spare me the one more thing. Of course, you know that as soon as you pray something like that, God may just show up with the one more thing. He did it to the widow of Zarephath.
This is an amazing story which made me laugh when I was in the middle of the “please Lord, not one more thing.” Here is the NIV version:
7Some time later the brook dried up because there had been no rain in the land. 8Then the word of the LORD came to him: 9“Go at once to Zarephath of Sidon and stay there. I have commanded a widow in that place to supply you with food.” 10So he went to Zarephath. When he came to the town gate, a widow was there gathering sticks. He called to her and asked, “Would you bring me a little water in a jar so I may have a drink?” 11As she was going to get it, he called, “And bring me, please, a piece of bread.”
12“As surely as the LORD your God lives,” she replied, “I don’t have any bread—only a handful of flour in a jar and a little oil in a jug. I am gathering a few sticks to take home and make a meal for myself and my son, that we may eat it—and die.”
13Elijah said to her, “Don’t be afraid. Go home and do as you have said. But first make a small cake of bread for me from what you have and bring it to me, and then make something for yourself and your son. 14For this is what the LORD, the God of Israel, says: ‘The jar of flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the LORD gives rain on the land.’”
15She went away and did as Elijah had told her. So there was food every day for Elijah and for the woman and her family. 16For the jar of flour was not used up and the jug of oil did not run dry, in keeping with the word of the LORD spoken by Elijah.
Understand the picture: this was not just a dry summer in California with water rationing. This was a drought that had been going on for a while and would probably continue for a few more years. The Lord had said “neither dew nor rain in the next few years.” It was dry enough that the brook that had been Elijah’s supply of water dried up. Even the prophet of the Lord was affected by the drought. In his case, it rained on neither the just nor the unjust. At the Lord’s instruction, Elijah went to Zarephath to meet a widow who had been commanded by God to supply Elijah with food. There at the town gate, Elijah met the widow gathering sticks…a pathetic picture indeed. He calls to her, “Would you please bring me a little water in a jar so I may have a drink?” It is a drought; who knows how long the drought has been going on. The brook was dried up. A stranger asks her for a drink. Not only that, but the stranger then proceeds to ask her for a piece of bread.
Stop. Stop right there for just one minute. Can you imagine what this widow gathering sticks was thinking? If it had been me, I would have taken really good aim and thrown the very next stick at Elijah! The nerve. Not only does this man who doesn’t know me from Eve ask me for water in the midst of a drought, he wants me to bring him some bread. I would have thought, “oh please, God, not one more thing.”
In fact, without saying that directly, I bet she was thinking it. Think through what she says next and tell me if you don’t think there might have been a bit of an edge in her voice when she answered Elijah. “As surely as the Lord Your God lives,” she replied, “I don’t have any bread-only a handful of flour in a jar and a little oil in a jug. I am gathering a few sticks to take home and make a meal for myself and my son, that we may eat it-and die.” Do you think this woman feels slightly overwhelmed and hopeless? She is at the end of her proverbial rope.
She has no name and she has no description in Scripture other than “the widow at Zarepheth.” But I empathize with this woman. Drought. Hunger. No one to provide and care for her. The burden for herself and her son is all on her. She bears it alone. She’s pretty desperate. So desperate that she has determined that getting some sticks together for a fire for a paltry meal will be her final act before she and her son both die.
Along comes the prophet of God with an outrageous, outlandish, almost scandalous request: get me something to eat. Not only that, when she somewhat self pityingly declares that she is about to prepare her “last supper” it evokes neither pity, compassion, nor guilt in Elijah. Instead, Elijah says “Don’t be afraid. Go home and do as you have said. But first make a small cake of bread for me from what you have and bring it to me, and then make something for yourself and your son.” Does that strike you as funny? It did me. In the abridged version: “sure go ahead and die, but please make sure you have brought me my food first.”
I don’t know if that was the message God intended for everyone, but I laughed because that’s what it feels like sometimes in the church. “I know, I know you’ve been doing children’s ministry for 38 years and you feel like one more month of children’s ministry may kill you…but let’s just try it and see if maybe it won’t.” Surely you’ve been there. One more place to go. One more meeting to attend. One more errand that has to be run. One more phone call to make. You feel pretty dried up…sort of like that brook at Kerith Ravine. Someone has already come along and drunk the last drop. There ain’t no more. Then comes the request. It is outrageous. It seems almost selfish. How could God bring one more thing into her life right now?
Who knows why the widow at Zarephath acceded to Elijah’s request. (Obviously God did. It says so in Luke 4:25) But, for purposes of this discussion, let’s speculate a little. Maybe it was the custom. Maybe it was a rule of hospitality. Maybe it was tradition. But she did. And who knows whether she was afraid or not (as Elijah had told her). But she believed his word that the jar of oil would not run dry and the flour would not be used up. The widow at Zarephath went home and used up the last of her flour and the last of her oil, made some bread for Elijah. Through doing that “one more thing” the miraculous occurred: “So there was food every day for Elijah and for the woman and her family. 16For the jar of flour was not used up and the jug of oil did not run dry, in keeping with the word of the LORD spoken by Elijah.”
You see, sometimes it is doing exactly the “one more thing” that in the flesh we feel will kill us, that brings us life. It is sometimes committing to the outrageously, scandalously huge opportunities of God that brings us life when we would have chosen death.
What’s your “one more thing?” Dare to believe as the widow of Zarephath did that in giving and doing the “one more thing” your jar of oil will not run dry and your flour will not run out.
Sometimes I feel like I cannot pick up one more thing to do. If one of my children asks me to take them one more place, arrange one more playtime, or if my husband asks me to get childcare for one more meeting, one more person asks one more thing, I really feel that I will erupt. The newspaper the next day will show black and white pictures of debris strewn all over Columbus, Ohio with the headline banner sprawled across the Dispatch: Mt. St. Ellen Blows Her Top. I was having a day like that begging the Lord to please spare me the one more thing. Of course, you know that as soon as you pray something like that, God may just show up with the one more thing. He did it to the widow of Zarephath.
This is an amazing story which made me laugh when I was in the middle of the “please Lord, not one more thing.” Here is the NIV version:
7Some time later the brook dried up because there had been no rain in the land. 8Then the word of the LORD came to him: 9“Go at once to Zarephath of Sidon and stay there. I have commanded a widow in that place to supply you with food.” 10So he went to Zarephath. When he came to the town gate, a widow was there gathering sticks. He called to her and asked, “Would you bring me a little water in a jar so I may have a drink?” 11As she was going to get it, he called, “And bring me, please, a piece of bread.”
12“As surely as the LORD your God lives,” she replied, “I don’t have any bread—only a handful of flour in a jar and a little oil in a jug. I am gathering a few sticks to take home and make a meal for myself and my son, that we may eat it—and die.”
13Elijah said to her, “Don’t be afraid. Go home and do as you have said. But first make a small cake of bread for me from what you have and bring it to me, and then make something for yourself and your son. 14For this is what the LORD, the God of Israel, says: ‘The jar of flour will not be used up and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the LORD gives rain on the land.’”
15She went away and did as Elijah had told her. So there was food every day for Elijah and for the woman and her family. 16For the jar of flour was not used up and the jug of oil did not run dry, in keeping with the word of the LORD spoken by Elijah.
Understand the picture: this was not just a dry summer in California with water rationing. This was a drought that had been going on for a while and would probably continue for a few more years. The Lord had said “neither dew nor rain in the next few years.” It was dry enough that the brook that had been Elijah’s supply of water dried up. Even the prophet of the Lord was affected by the drought. In his case, it rained on neither the just nor the unjust. At the Lord’s instruction, Elijah went to Zarephath to meet a widow who had been commanded by God to supply Elijah with food. There at the town gate, Elijah met the widow gathering sticks…a pathetic picture indeed. He calls to her, “Would you please bring me a little water in a jar so I may have a drink?” It is a drought; who knows how long the drought has been going on. The brook was dried up. A stranger asks her for a drink. Not only that, but the stranger then proceeds to ask her for a piece of bread.
Stop. Stop right there for just one minute. Can you imagine what this widow gathering sticks was thinking? If it had been me, I would have taken really good aim and thrown the very next stick at Elijah! The nerve. Not only does this man who doesn’t know me from Eve ask me for water in the midst of a drought, he wants me to bring him some bread. I would have thought, “oh please, God, not one more thing.”
In fact, without saying that directly, I bet she was thinking it. Think through what she says next and tell me if you don’t think there might have been a bit of an edge in her voice when she answered Elijah. “As surely as the Lord Your God lives,” she replied, “I don’t have any bread-only a handful of flour in a jar and a little oil in a jug. I am gathering a few sticks to take home and make a meal for myself and my son, that we may eat it-and die.” Do you think this woman feels slightly overwhelmed and hopeless? She is at the end of her proverbial rope.
She has no name and she has no description in Scripture other than “the widow at Zarepheth.” But I empathize with this woman. Drought. Hunger. No one to provide and care for her. The burden for herself and her son is all on her. She bears it alone. She’s pretty desperate. So desperate that she has determined that getting some sticks together for a fire for a paltry meal will be her final act before she and her son both die.
Along comes the prophet of God with an outrageous, outlandish, almost scandalous request: get me something to eat. Not only that, when she somewhat self pityingly declares that she is about to prepare her “last supper” it evokes neither pity, compassion, nor guilt in Elijah. Instead, Elijah says “Don’t be afraid. Go home and do as you have said. But first make a small cake of bread for me from what you have and bring it to me, and then make something for yourself and your son.” Does that strike you as funny? It did me. In the abridged version: “sure go ahead and die, but please make sure you have brought me my food first.”
I don’t know if that was the message God intended for everyone, but I laughed because that’s what it feels like sometimes in the church. “I know, I know you’ve been doing children’s ministry for 38 years and you feel like one more month of children’s ministry may kill you…but let’s just try it and see if maybe it won’t.” Surely you’ve been there. One more place to go. One more meeting to attend. One more errand that has to be run. One more phone call to make. You feel pretty dried up…sort of like that brook at Kerith Ravine. Someone has already come along and drunk the last drop. There ain’t no more. Then comes the request. It is outrageous. It seems almost selfish. How could God bring one more thing into her life right now?
Who knows why the widow at Zarephath acceded to Elijah’s request. (Obviously God did. It says so in Luke 4:25) But, for purposes of this discussion, let’s speculate a little. Maybe it was the custom. Maybe it was a rule of hospitality. Maybe it was tradition. But she did. And who knows whether she was afraid or not (as Elijah had told her). But she believed his word that the jar of oil would not run dry and the flour would not be used up. The widow at Zarephath went home and used up the last of her flour and the last of her oil, made some bread for Elijah. Through doing that “one more thing” the miraculous occurred: “So there was food every day for Elijah and for the woman and her family. 16For the jar of flour was not used up and the jug of oil did not run dry, in keeping with the word of the LORD spoken by Elijah.”
You see, sometimes it is doing exactly the “one more thing” that in the flesh we feel will kill us, that brings us life. It is sometimes committing to the outrageously, scandalously huge opportunities of God that brings us life when we would have chosen death.
What’s your “one more thing?” Dare to believe as the widow of Zarephath did that in giving and doing the “one more thing” your jar of oil will not run dry and your flour will not run out.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Running with a Message
Welcome to “Inscribed on My Heart.”
The story is told that Phidippides was a professional runner who lived during the time of the Persian-Greek Wars in the fifth century B.C. The Athenian army was encamped outside of Athens on the field of Marathon facing the most powerful army in the world. Phidippides was called on to carry a message requesting help for the beleaguered, weary Athenian army to Spartan generals (over 140 miles away). Phidippides ran the course in about 36 hours. He was given a classic good news/bad news answer: yes! The Spartan army would come to assist the Athenians. Unfortunately for him, the Spartan generals had a return message to Athens: they would come to help fight the Persians, but only once the moon was full, so as to follow religious dictates. And so, Phidippides paced his way back to Athens another 140 miles. The Athenians, left alone to face the great, advancing Persian army, launched a surprise attack and, though outnumbered four to one, defeated the Persian army. Phidippides, having barely recovered his breath from the last 140 mile jaunt, and having fought alongside his compatriots all morning, was called on again; this time, he had to run 26 miles to the city of Athens to warn of the Persian fleet headed for Athens. He ran the course to Athens, delivered the message and dropped over dead from exhaustion. Athens eventually united with Sparta and other Greek cities, formed a single great army, and consequently an empire, and the rest, as they say, is history.
One man carried a message. Two factors led to the defeat of an enemy and the eventual establishment of a kingdom. One factor was Phidippides’ skill and the other was his willingness to invest his skill for his leader, the Athenian general. Do you think that Phidippides ran those 306 miles thinking that he would save an army and that the Greek empire would come, not only into a reality, but historical and cultural significance as well? Do you think thoughts of greatness filled his head? Did he run along timing his splits and pacing his miles so that he could set a record? Probably not? “I hope they one day name an Olympic event in my honor,” probably did not occupy his thoughts. He was a soldier who happened to also be a professional runner. Part of his duty that day in 490 B.C. was to carry a message. This he did, faithfully, dutifully, zealously- for the army of Athens depended on his obedience and his skill.
In Habakkuk 2: 2 & 3, the prophet wrote: Then the LORD replied: "Write down the revelation and make it plain on tablets so that a herald may run with it.
3 For the revelation awaits an appointed time; it speaks of the end and will not prove false. Though it linger, wait for it; it will certainly come and will not delay."
Most of us have a message burning in our hearts. As did Phidippides, I have a message, a revelation, if you will. I do not have tablets with which I run (how awkward would that be? Did Phidippides have tablets, a scroll or was the request for help from the Athenian general emblazoned on Phidippides’ heart and mind?) But there is a message written, emblazoned, inscribed on my heart, with which I run: the message is about the love, grace and sovereignty of a living, mighty God, and of His kingdom.
So I blog…it’s a lot easier than running 306 miles. Maybe blogging is the new running with a message. And maybe, just maybe, I can be a herald of this wonderful message of God’s sovereign grace and love.
The story is told that Phidippides was a professional runner who lived during the time of the Persian-Greek Wars in the fifth century B.C. The Athenian army was encamped outside of Athens on the field of Marathon facing the most powerful army in the world. Phidippides was called on to carry a message requesting help for the beleaguered, weary Athenian army to Spartan generals (over 140 miles away). Phidippides ran the course in about 36 hours. He was given a classic good news/bad news answer: yes! The Spartan army would come to assist the Athenians. Unfortunately for him, the Spartan generals had a return message to Athens: they would come to help fight the Persians, but only once the moon was full, so as to follow religious dictates. And so, Phidippides paced his way back to Athens another 140 miles. The Athenians, left alone to face the great, advancing Persian army, launched a surprise attack and, though outnumbered four to one, defeated the Persian army. Phidippides, having barely recovered his breath from the last 140 mile jaunt, and having fought alongside his compatriots all morning, was called on again; this time, he had to run 26 miles to the city of Athens to warn of the Persian fleet headed for Athens. He ran the course to Athens, delivered the message and dropped over dead from exhaustion. Athens eventually united with Sparta and other Greek cities, formed a single great army, and consequently an empire, and the rest, as they say, is history.
One man carried a message. Two factors led to the defeat of an enemy and the eventual establishment of a kingdom. One factor was Phidippides’ skill and the other was his willingness to invest his skill for his leader, the Athenian general. Do you think that Phidippides ran those 306 miles thinking that he would save an army and that the Greek empire would come, not only into a reality, but historical and cultural significance as well? Do you think thoughts of greatness filled his head? Did he run along timing his splits and pacing his miles so that he could set a record? Probably not? “I hope they one day name an Olympic event in my honor,” probably did not occupy his thoughts. He was a soldier who happened to also be a professional runner. Part of his duty that day in 490 B.C. was to carry a message. This he did, faithfully, dutifully, zealously- for the army of Athens depended on his obedience and his skill.
In Habakkuk 2: 2 & 3, the prophet wrote: Then the LORD replied: "Write down the revelation and make it plain on tablets so that a herald may run with it.
3 For the revelation awaits an appointed time; it speaks of the end and will not prove false. Though it linger, wait for it; it will certainly come and will not delay."
Most of us have a message burning in our hearts. As did Phidippides, I have a message, a revelation, if you will. I do not have tablets with which I run (how awkward would that be? Did Phidippides have tablets, a scroll or was the request for help from the Athenian general emblazoned on Phidippides’ heart and mind?) But there is a message written, emblazoned, inscribed on my heart, with which I run: the message is about the love, grace and sovereignty of a living, mighty God, and of His kingdom.
So I blog…it’s a lot easier than running 306 miles. Maybe blogging is the new running with a message. And maybe, just maybe, I can be a herald of this wonderful message of God’s sovereign grace and love.
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