Pacifying Lies and the Sympathizing Truth

I didn’t expect, when I sat down at her table, that I’d end up hearing all about her current difficulties with school.

I was looking for a place to sit, to read, to wait for the first service to get over.

I didn’t realize that God was at work, engineering divine appointments.

Our conversation was simple enough at first. I asked the usual questions one asks of a student who has just started a new school year. How are classes? Is she settled in yet? What are her favorite parts of school?

But then the levee broke and words came pouring in from every direction, threatening to drown my unprepared mind.

She was overwhelmed. She wasn’t adjusting well. She felt lonely. She’d been made fun of. She didn’t have many friends. Some of her classes were awful. She was grieved by the language the other students used. It was all so different from her old school. She didn’t like it. Not at all.

As the muddy water rushed in, swirling with the debris of a few hard weeks at school, my mind scrambled to put up sandbags against the flood.

“Hang in there. Things will get better. You’ll see.” I wanted to say. Anything to make her feel better, to staunch the hurt she was revealing.

But God, in His wisdom, has been teaching me about loving conversation–and the first rule of loving conversation is silence.

I let her speak. Let the words come. I listened and thought and prayed.

I realized how foolish and insufficient my gut reaction was.

Who says my friend’s situation will get better? Since when was “hanging in there” what she need to do? Will she see?

Those trite phrases, as comfortable as they are to say, offered no solution to her problems, no true hope to get through her difficulties.

They were little more than pacifying lies.

When she wound down her story and shared a Scripture she’d been clinging to, I now knew how to encourage and comfort my friend.

I Peter 5:7 says, “Casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.” Philippians 4:6-7 says “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything, through prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God, and the peace of God, which surpasses understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”

I urged my friend to take her cares to Christ, to take comfort in His care, to allow His peace to guard her mind.

I could not promise my friend that her circumstances would get better. I don’t know that. But I could promise her that God has a better purpose in her trials.

God has a purpose to conform her into the image of Christ.

“For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers.”
~Romans 8:29 (ESV)

She can look back to before the foundations of time, where God was already purposing HER in His heart, where God was already thinking of her and planning for her.

She can look forward to the end of time, when she will be finally like Christ, when all this earth’s trials will meet their end and the finished product will be revealed.

She can take comfort in the present that God is purposing good things in her suffering. He is making her like Christ.

Things may not grow easier. She may not feel better. But as she fixes her eyes on Christ, He is making her better. As she looks at Christ, God is making her to look like Christ.

When I placed my hand on my friend’s shoulder, when I looked into her eyes and told her that God had a purpose in her struggles, she looked back at me with a new light in her eyes.

Far better than pacifying lies is the Sympathizing Truth.

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”
~Hebrews 4:15-16 (ESV)

It is only in looking to Christ that my friend can find comfort. Only in pointing to Christ that I can be a comforter.


Treasured Things

“And when they saw it, they made known the saying that had been told them concerning this child. And all who heard it wondered at what the shepherds told them. But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart. And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all they had heard and seen, as it had been told them.”
~Luke 2:17-20

Usually, I am the shepherds. I see or hear something and I make it known.

I am an expert at telling the world everything that’s going on in my heart and life.

I am not so like Mary, not so inclined to treasure up all these things and ponder them in my heart.

But the last few months have left me in the middle, or really in both places at once.

I am enjoying a treasure, bountiful gifts from a loving Lord–and I am torn between two impulses.

One impulse is to tell everyone–the gals I work with, my family, my friends, the teller at the bank. I want the world to know how good God is and how wonderful my treasures are.

The other impulse is to treasure them myself, to keep everything private, to rejoice inwardly as I recount to myself the stories of God’s faithfulness.

Yes, I am being evasive. I am not quite sharing my treasures yet. I am erring to the treasuring in my heart part.

But know this and rejoice with me.

“behold, the winter is past;
the rain is over and gone.
The flowers appear on the earth,
the time of singing has come,
and the voice of the turtledove
is heard in our land.
The fig tree ripens its figs,
and the vines are in blossom;
they give forth fragrance.”

~Song of Solomon 2:11-13

In what has seemed like a long winter, the promise of God has been sure. “While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease.” (Genesis 8:22)

Spring follows winter.

Delight follows toil.

After the night, the sun rises.

And I will treasure His faithfulness above all.


Musings on the Glorified Body

Will our glorified bodies bear evidences of our unglorified lives?

Will my glorified body bear stretch marks from when my body developed curves?

Will my glorified radius and ulna exhibit thickening from an old break?

Will my glorified chin still have a divot from where the asphalt took its ounce of flesh?

Will my glorified back have a smattering of scars from the shingles I got in my late twenties?

Will I still be me without these marks, these scars, these evidences of life lived, difficulties borne?

It’s really rather speculative, up to anyone’s guess.

We only know one example of a glorified man, and He was more than just a man.

But He still bears scars.

“Eight days later, his disciples were inside again, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’ Then he said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe.’ Thomas answered him, ‘My Lord and my God!’ Jesus said to him, ‘Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.'”
~John 20:26-29 (ESV)

I do not know whether I will bear scars, but I know that if I do, they shall remain for one reason only–they will remain because God is glorified most in my scars.

For is that not the point of the glorified body–not that I be glorified, but that He be glorified in me?


The Physicality of Eternal Life

“That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we looked upon and have touched with our hands, concerning the word of life–the life was made manifest, and we have seen it, and testify to it and proclaim to you the eternal life, which was with the Father and was made manifest to us–that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you, so that you too may have fellowship with us; and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with His Son Jesus Christ.”
~1 John 1:1-3 (ESV)

What did they hear?

They heard the words of Christ.

Life.

“Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.”
~John 6:68b (ESV)

What did they see?

They saw Christ in the flesh.

Life.

“I am the way, and the truth, and the life.”
~John 14:6b (ESV)

What did they touch?

They touched the wounds of Christ.

Life.

“Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe.”
~John 20:27b (ESV)

The Life was made Manifest.

Christ

Eternal Life incarnate, displayed for all to see, to hear, to touch.

Eternal life crucified, risen, bearing wounds proclaiming victory over death.

Eternal life ascended.

Eternal life proclaimed.

Christ

The message John proclaims is not that we can obtain eternal life from Christ, but that we can find eternal life in Christ.

We do not come to Christ so that He can give us eternal life.

We come to Him because He is eternal life.

Our gospel is incomplete if eternal life is separated from the person of Christ.

Because eternal life isn’t living forever.

Eternal life is Christ.

“And we know that the Son of God has come and has given us understanding, so that we may know him who is true; and we are in him who is true, in his Son Jesus Christ. He is the true God and eternal life.
~I John 5:20 (ESV)


An Old-Fashioned Hymn Sing

I like the modern songs of worship. The wave-your-arms-in-the-air or pump-your-fist exciting music. The clap-in-time and hoot-and-holler-at-the-end type of music.

But there’s nothing that can beat the old-fashioned hymns, tried by generations of believers, refined through decades (even centuries) of worshipers.

There’s something about knowing that you are joining a host of saints before you, singing an old chorus. There’s something about meditating on the same words by which some predecessor lived and died.

You don’t need to be in a packed auditorium when you’re singing a hymn. Even if it’s just you in your car on the way home from work in Grand Island, you know you’re joining a community of believers.

Also, there’s nothing like going through a set of old hymns to awaken one’s mind to doctrine.

To remind us of our weakness in spiritual battles–and Christ’s strength on our behalf:

“Did we in our own strength confide
Our striving would be losing
Were not the right man by our side
The man of God’s own choosing
Dost ask who that may be
Christ Jesus, it is He
Lord Sabaoth by name
From age to age the same
And He must win the battle”
~Martin Luther, “A Mighty Fortress Is Our God”

The glory of sins removed:

“My sin–oh the bliss of this glorious thought–
My sin, not in part but the whole
Was nailed to the cross
and I bear it no more
Praise the Lord,
Praise the Lord, oh my soul”
~H.G. Spafford, “It is Well with my Soul”

The eternal hope of Christ’s righteousness:

“When He shall come with trumpet sound
O, may I then in Him be found
Dressed in His righteousness alone
Faultless to stand before the throne.”
~Edward Mote, “The Solid Rock”

The great sacrifice of Christ on our behalf:

“Well might the sun in darkness hide
And shut his glories in
When Christ, the Mighty Maker, died
For man the creature’s sin”
~Isaac Watts, “At the Cross”

The promise of glorification:

“Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious blood
Shall never lose its power
‘Til all the ransomed church of God
Be saved to sin no more.”
~William Cowper, “There is a fountain”

The sovereignty of God over nature:

“That though the wrong seems oft so strong
God is the Ruler yet”
~Malthie D. Babcock, “This is my Father’s World”

God’s goal to make us like Christ:

“Come Desire of Nations, come!
Fix in us Thy humble home
Rise, the woman’s conquering seed
Bruise in us the serpent’s head
Adam’s likeness now efface
Stamp Thine image in its place
Second Adam from above
Reinstate us in Thy love.”
~Charles Wesley, “Hark the Herald Angels Sing”

The sacrifice that motivates my holiness:

“For Thee all the follies of sin I resign…
I love Thee because Thou hast first loved me
And purchased my pardon on Calvary’s tree…”
~Anonymous, “My Jesus, I love Thee”

And then a rainbow rises above the road and in raptures of delight, I sing all the more.

“This is my Father’s world
He shines in all that’s fair
In the rustling grass I hear Him pass
He speaks to me everywhere.”
~Malthie D. Babcock, “This is My Father’s World”


Bittersweet Mornings

This morning has been the very definition of perfect.

Waking up with sun, knowing that I have plenty of time to do whatever I want to do.

Spending hours in the Word, digging deep into I John, letting the Word transform me.

Getting dressed and going to my car to get my hairbrush (which I left there yesterday after a rather rushed morning).

Bringing in the waffle blocks I’d bought at a used store last week. Searching for the perfect striped twill I’d gotten a few weeks before to make toy bags with. Cutting out a bag in the right size.

Seeing that my sewing machine was already threaded with black thread and deciding to get my black mending done while I was at it. Having plenty of time to mend several dresses and a couple pairs of slacks, even to rip out a seam that I wasn’t satisfied with.

Changing to white thread and whipping up the toy bag. Running the rope in the casing and filling the bag with waffle blocks.

Making my breakfast and enjoying it while writing a blog post.

No morning could be better.

Yet even in this, my heart is not content.

Like Naomi, returning to her homeland when God has visited His people with food, I entreat those around me to call me Mara.

God may have abundantly blessed me with today, but I am bitter that this is not my every morning. I am bitter that I have no children to play with my waffle blocks, no someone to admire my recently altered dress. I am bitter that I must work long hours in the world, leaving few for the home where I love to be.

I speak to my soul, telling it to be quiet. “Be still. Be at rest. Rejoice in the day that the Lord has given you.”

My heart does not want to listen. It wants to wallow in discontent.

I must point Mara to the end of her story, to Obed, to the promise of God in Christ.

I am not husband-less. I have Christ.

I am not child-less. I have Christ.

I am not without a Provider. I have Christ.

So do not call me Mara. I am not she.

Bitterness has no place in my soul.

Instead, I will sing like the women singing to Naomi:

“Blessed be the Lord, who has not left you this day without a redeemer, and may his name be renowned in Israel! He shall be to you a restorer of life and a nourisher of your old age, for your daughter-in-law who loves you, who is more to you than seven sons, has given birth to him.”

I will choose to sing with these:

“Blessed be the Lord, who has not left me this day without a Redeemer. May His name be renowned in all the earth. He is my restorer of life and the nourisher of my age; for He is more to me than anything.”


Sunday School in Review: Part 7

After hours trying to figure out how to teach Nahum, Habakkuk, and Zephaniah, I gave up. In complete defiance to my usually very carefully typed lesson, I had no typed lesson, no handwritten notes. I opened my Bible to Nahum and started teaching.

In Nahum, we learned of God’s judgment on Nineveh–but wait, we asked, didn’t God show mercy to Nineveh? Why is He now going to destroy them?

In Habakkuk, we heard Habakkuk’s lament that God isn’t doing justice: “Why aren’t you giving people what they deserve?” We learned that God is just–which means that He DOES give people what they deserve.

My students had a legitimate question: “But didn’t we just learn last week that God is merciful–that He doesn’t give people what they deserve?”

I explained how God doesn’t give us what we deserve because Jesus volunteered to take what we deserved and give us what He deserved.

We moved on to Zephaniah to review the Day of the Lord–the day when God executes judgment on His enemies and shows mercy to the enemies that He’s made His friends.

We talked about God’s justice and God’s mercy. We talked about substitutionary atonement. We talked the salvation of God.

There’s no way I could have ended up there except for God’s orchestration of this unplanned lesson.

God is good.

I copied over my lesson for Zechariah and Malachi–and this time I don’t have any idea what I taught.

Ah, well. I guess we can’t remember everything.

Next week, I’d be moving into the New Testament–a terrifying chapter after the easy Old Testament.

Why do I say the New Testament is terrifying? I wrote about it on this blog as I moved into Acts:

“Teaching the Old Testament is easy.

Almost every line tells of our desperate need for salvation and our absolute inability to effect salvation of ourselves. Every line points forward, from where many of my students likely are (unregenerate) to Christ’s work.

Teaching the New Testament is hard.

The epistles are especially hard, since they’re written to believers. Most of the epistles answer the questions “What just happened?” and “Now what?”

Good questions, necessary questions, but ones I have a hard time teaching to little unbelievers.”

Read the rest of my explanation here.


Sunday School in Review: Part 6

In Amos, we looked at a map of the nations surrounding Judah and Israel–the nations that Amos pronounced woes upon.

“For three transgressions of Damascus and for four, I will not revoke punishment because…”

We imagined Israel and Judah smirking as one after another of their neighbors came under God’s microscope. “Yeah, that’s right! You sic ’em, God.” We imagined them saying. “Kill all our enemies. Destroy them all.”

Then God began in on Judah. Judah, no doubt, was mortified, but we imagined Israel’s self-righteousness at being the only one God hadn’t pronounced judgment on.

But Israel was mistaken. God’s list of Israel’s sins goes on and on. Furthermore, God describes all He’s done to Israel to make them come back–but the repeated refrain announces “Yet you did not return to Me.”

God thundered out–and I thundered through the classroom–

THEREFORE, PREPARE TO MEET YOUR GOD!

We saw how God pronounced woes on those who seek the day of Lord. We learned that the people of Israel wanted God to come and destroy their enemies. That’s what they thought the “Day of the Lord” was all about.

What they didn’t realize was that the “Day of the Lord” isn’t when God destroys THEIR enemies, but when God destroys HIS enemies.

We discussed who God’s enemies are and came up with a long list–a list that included every person in our classroom.

We ended with a sober note, the reality that as enemies of God we are destined for destruction in the day of the Lord.

Which paved the way for the next week’s class, where we learned about God’s mercy through Jonah and Micah.

We asked four questions each of three different groups of people. First we looked at Jonah and asked 1) What did Jonah do? He disobeyed God 2) What does Jonah deserve? He deserves to drown in the ocean 3) What does Jonah get? Swallowed by a big fish and spit up on dry land, 4) Why doesn’t Jonah get what he deserves? Because God is merciful.

We asked the same questions regarding Nineveh–a wicked city that deserved to be destroyed but which was spared because God was merciful.

We moved to Micah and asked the same questions regarding Israel. Israel had broken God’s covenant and deserved death. But, because God was merciful, He sent them into exile and gave them the promise of a Messiah.

We closed with Romans 6:23, comparing what we deserve for our sins (death) with what God has offered us freely instead (eternal life in Christ Jesus).

To be continued…


Sunday School in Review: Part 5

For Ezekiel, we opened with a rousing chorus of “‘Dem Bones” before rushing through the “bones” of Ezekiel on our way to the main story for the day: The Valley of Dry Bones.

We read the story. We assembled a skeleton from paper bones. We talked about how God makes dead men live. I was dancing with the reality of hearts of stone becoming hearts of flesh–and can only hope and pray that the students caught the wonder of what God does when sinners become saints.

I wrote over my lesson for Daniel so I’m not entirely positive what I taught.

Actually, scratch that–it’s all coming back to me. We had a mini nutrition lesson and learned about the four Jewish boys who chose to be faithful to God and were rewarded. We learned about the three men who wouldn’t bow to an idol and who were rewarded with God’s presence among the fiery furnace. We learned about a man who wouldn’t let a foolish king’s law change his devotion towards God–and who was protected in the midst of a cage of lions. We learned that being obedient to God wasn’t always going to be easy–but that God would be with His children even in the midst of a foreign land, a fiery furnace, or a lion’s den.

Although I love Hosea, I was a little frightened to teach it to 2nd and 3rd graders–especially because the ESV (which I use) reads: “Go, take to yourself a wife of whoredom and have children of whoredom, for the land commits great whoredom by forsaking the Lord.”

Yeah. I imagined parents beating down my door and beating in my head for teaching their children about whoredom.

I used the NIV that week, allowing the slightly more comfortable “adultery” (which I explained as “acting married with someone you aren’t married to”) to take the place of “whoredom”.

We learned how Gomer was like Israel and how Hosea was called to be like God. Gomer ran away from Hosea just like Israel ran away from God. Hosea stayed with Gomer (even though she ran away with other men) just like God stayed with Israel (even though they worshiped other gods.) Gomer committed adultery with other men, just like Israel committed idolatry with other gods. But Hosea bought Gomer back even when she was unfaithful–and God bough Israel back even when they were unfaithful.

We played hangman again (the kids got quite fond of this game)–and one little girl begged me not to erase the verse I’d chosen for our game until she could copy it down into her notebook: “If we are faithless, he remains faithful—for he cannot deny himself.” 2 Timothy 2:13

We switched gears suddenly by transitioning immediately from Hosea into Joel. Usually I try to connect the books we’re doing on the same day with some thematic element–but I couldn’t find or didn’t choose to elaborate on any theme between these two.

The kids colored a locust while I raced through my main points: Locust killed everything (yes, I brought in some Laura Ingalls Wilder here). This was God’s judgement for Israel’s sins. God promises to forgive His people when they repent. God will pour out His Spirit on all people and will save them. God will destroy His enemies and live with His people.

We looked back at the historical locust plague. We looked at the fulfillment of Joel 2 in Acts 2 (and I feared my Charismatic roots were showing as I quoted said passage from memory in the most excited of tones). We looked forward to the day when Christ comes back and completes the fulfillment of Joel by destroying His enemies and living with His people.

To be continued…


Freedom, Cliches, and Christ

“Freedom isn’t free.”

The phrase has been running through my brain in these days leading up to Memorial Day.

I remember the first time someone thanked me (me!) for the sacrifices I’d made for freedom.

Me? Sacrifice for freedom?

Of course, said they. You’ve given your brothers to the cause of freedom.

Except that I haven’t really. Not much.

Both my brothers (and my sister-in-law) are proud living Marines. The price we’ve paid is small.

All three of my sibling Marines have all their body parts. The price we’ve paid is small.

Yes, their choice to volunteer in the USMC has meant that I missed my brother and sister-in-law’s wedding. It has meant that John and Kaytee will be stationed far from me. It has meant some discomfort to me. But it is a very small price.

Don’t thank me. I have hardly paid.

John, Kaytee, and Tim have paid more. They have given up a modicum of their own freedom, have submitted themselves to be at the beck and call of the USMC. They do not choose where they will go or what they will be. They do not choose how many push-ups they will do or how fast they will run. The USMC says and they must do.

Even so, their sacrifices pale in the light of many others who have gone before.

Veterans of past wars have come home scarred mentally and physically. They fought, some willingly, some unwillingly for a cause some believed in and others did not. Sometimes they won and sometimes they lost. Sometimes the world was freer for their contributions, sometimes it was not. Yet they fought, they sacrificed to obtain or maintain freedom for others.

Men and women have fought and died for freedom, leaving behind their blood, their bodies, their brave deeds. They fought for a freedom they would not enjoy-freedom to live in peace in the United States, in Europe, in the Middle East. They fought against regimes that did not topple in their lifetimes, lifetimes cut short by war. They never saw the end of the central powers, of Nazi Germany, of Soviet Communism.

They paid everything they had.

Yet even their sacrifice pales in light of a great sacrifice.

Freedom isn’t free. Jesus paid a high price for it.

A soldier subjects himself to humiliation by drill instructors, by foreign enemies, by insensitive and misunderstanding brutes at home. Christ subjected himself to humiliation by becoming a part of His creation. He subjected Himself to the humiliation of being mocked by the very ones He had given life, the ones whose life He currently sustained.

A soldier is conscripted or volunteers, knowing that death is possible. Jesus volunteered, knowing that death was inevitable, necessary.

A soldier may bear the wrath of a peeved higher officer, of an angry enemy combatant, of a rabid anti-war activist. Christ bore the wrath of His own righteous Father.

Freedom isn’t free.

Jesus paid for it. He paid a price we could never pay.

I wonder, as these thoughts run through my head, if I’m not cheapening the sacrifice of our soldiers, not reducing the impact of our fallen veterans. Am I trivializing all that Memorial Day is about? I am, after all, making light of the physical sacrifices of our soldiers by comparing them with the huge sacrifice of my Savior.

But no, I realize. If anything, I make light of Christ by comparing His sacrifice with that of a soldier.

How can I thank a veteran today? How can I remember the mere men who fought for freedom?

I can thank my veterans by telling them of the freedom that transcends politics. I can remember those who fought by glorifying the one who Won.

Because he who the Son sets free is free indeed.

May I fight, may I sacrifice, may I live and die that His Sacrifice be remembered.