Even a Cup of Cold Water

 I'm putting these thoughts here more as a journal entry, so I can find them later -- really mostly Scripture passages all on one subject: How essential are acts of mercy to being a Christian?

Isaiah 58:6-9 -- "Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the straps of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover him, and not to hide yourself from your own flesh? Then shall your light break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up speedily; your righteousness shall go before you; the glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard. Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer; you shall cry, and he will say, 'Here I am.'"

(See the previous verses to find out how some folks who thought they were God's people, were not. They focused on going to church, fasting, and self-humbling actions.)

*****

James 2:14-17 -- "What good is it, my brothers and sisters, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him? If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, 'Go in peace, be warmed and filled,' without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that? So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead."

(And if giving lip-service to helping the poor is bad enough to cause dead faith, as in NO faith, then how much worse if one were to ridicule the poor, exploit the poor, or make their poverty worse? Some who claim to love Jesus do these very things!)

*****

Proverbs 19:17 -- "Whoever is generous to the poor lends to the LORD, and he will repay him for his deed."

(Think of that! Jesus puts Himself in the place of the poor, needy, and destitute. And if you help them, He considers that you have helped Him. Those acts of mercy put you directly on God's radar screen, and He knows you.)

There are many other verses, especially in Psalms and Proverbs, about how God hears the cries of the needy and oppressed. Do you want God to hear your prayers? Be needy and oppressed. If you can't do that, then help the needy and oppressed, and God will notice you.

*****

Matthew 7:21 - 23 -- "Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. On that day (i.e. judgment day) many will say to me, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?' And then will I declare to them, 'I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.'"

(Clearly, many people will think they are going  to heaven because of how they have lived: they've preached, they've even battled evil and performed miracles. But God does not know them. "You?" he says. "I don't know you. Who are you? A child of mine? No, I don't recall you at all.")

*****

Lastly, on judgment day, Jesus will sit on His throne to judge everyone -- every person and every nation. First He will separate His brothers and sisters from those who are not His. 

Matthew 25:34-46 -- "Come, you who are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me."

There is no mention even of a profession of faith here! (Not that a profession isn't important, of course. It's a wonderful thing. But do these people even think they are going to heaven? Do they think they are beloved of God?) 

When told they are going to heaven, they're surprised. "Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?" they ask Him.

These folks did not do acts of mercy for religious reasons. They did not do them for the Lord. They simply did acts of mercy out of compassion. Jesus has to tell them, "Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me." This of course corresponds to the proverb above -- on this earth, Jesus identifies with the poor.

What about the other people before the throne, the ones who God does not know, who are not blessed by Him, and who will not enter heaven? Jesus says to them, "Depart form me, you cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. For I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me no drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not clothe me, sick and in prison and you did not visit me."

They are naturally shocked. They don't remember ever seeing Jesus during their lives, and if they had they certainly wouldn't have neglected Him this way. "Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not minister to you?" They protest that they are innocent, and that Jesus is mistaken.

But Jesus identifies with the poor, the needy, the prisoner and the sick. They neglected these people all their lives, instead devoting themselves to other religious duties -- church attendance, Sunday school teaching, singing cantatas, fasting and praying, studying theology, evangelism. Perhaps they were even super-religious and taught in a seminary, or were missionaries or touring Christian singers, or wrote long blog posts about the Bible. None of that saved them, and none of it indicated faith. None of it showed that God knew them, which is so much more essential than that they thought they knew God.

"Truly, I say to you, as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me."

And these will go away into eternal punishment, but the righteous into eternal life.

How many Christians have squirmed a little at this passage, and then ignored it. It doesn't correspond well with what we've been taught about "you're not saved by works" and "focus on studying the Word," and "it's all about faith, and faith alone."

This is very convicting to me. I've spent my life primarily doing the church duties and only lately caring much about works of mercy. I want to change that. I want not only to feel compassion when I see the needy, but to do something.

Isn't it fascinating that Matthew, the ex-tax collector, the wealthy man turned disciple, should include so much of this thinking in his book about Jesus? He must've regretted his years of exploiting the poor and longed to turn that around.

*****

Matthew 10: 40-42 -- "Whoever receives you receives me, and whoever receives me receives him who sent me," Jesus told his 12 disciples. "The one who receives a prophet because he is a prophet will receive a prophet's reward (we know that's not much!), and the one who receives a righteous person because he is a righteous person will receive a righteous person's reward (also not much). And whoever gives one of these little ones even a cup of cold water because he is a disciple, truly, I say to you, he will by no means lose his reward."

Do you want to know you are God's child, loved of Him and going to heaven? A cup of cold water will do. Many cups, plus soup, a warm coat, a place to sleep, a visit to a local prison. You may not know it, but you will find Jesus there.

Pursuing Peace, Part 2

 First, I want to thank all of you who commented on the first "Pursuing Peace" post. Annie, your comment was so wonderful and helpful to me! So much honesty and wisdom in your words. Thank you!

I've spent some time studying Scripture to discover the answer to these two questions: 1) What emotions/internal effects will I experience from reading Scripture? and 2) What does the Bible say about how I can obtain internal peace?

For the first answer, I turned to Psalm 119, the premier passage about God's Word and what it does to God's child. It was a fascinating study! Here's a list of the primary emotional effects that Scripture had on David:

1. delight/joy

2. avoidance of sin/purity

3. revive his fainting soul/sustain him

4. thankfulness

5. meditation

6. longing/desire for God's Word

7. understanding/wisdom

8. fear/reverence of God

9.freedom/liberty

10. comfort

I probably missed a few, but that's the basic list. Annie added an important verse from Psalm 119: "Those who love Thy law have great peace, and nothing causes them to stumble." (119:165) So peace can be a result of loving God's Word. That's important to remember! I need to remember, however, that this verse does NOT say that peace comes from studying God's Word, which is what I tend to do. I love to study it, pick it apart, find connections, treat it like a piece of fascinating, wonderful literature. The love David has for Scripture is not a pedantic thing; he loves it because it reveals God's heart.

I found many other passages helpful in my search for spiritual peace, but none more than Philippians 4. (I'll put the other verses at the bottom of this post, for anybody who's interested.) Paul is addressing church conflict in Phil. 4 -- two women who are fussing with each other, Euodia and Syntyche. He urges them to live harmoniously. (Their names mean sweet-smelling and common goals. Haha!)

In verse 4, Paul tells his friends to be joyful. Then he reminds them to be gentle with everyone. Next he instructs them not to be fearful, "Don't be anxious." To avoid anxiety, they are to pray, asking God and thanking Him. And then ... peace comes as a gift of God, in inexplicable gift that's hard to put one's finger on. It's not something we drum up ourselves, not something we obtain with effort. It's God's work.

I don't know that this is some guaranteed recipe for peace, every time. But it's certainly good practice, and an excellent place to start. Perhaps the hardest step is the beginning: Be joyful! That's very hard when you're anxious and have no peace. I think Paul gives us a clue to being more joyful; what are we filling our minds with? I've always loved verse 8. It's gently convicting about what I expose myself to: is it true, honorable, right, pure, lovely, reputable, excellent, praise-worthy? 

If I fill my mind with things that are lies, wrong, impure, ugly, disreputable, awful, worthy of derision, then I can expect a troubled spirit. My lack of peace is a choice when I expose myself to such things. I think I should stop reading the news.

It's clear Paul is trying to get these Philippians to find inner peace. They're struggling. "Let your mind dwell on these [good] things." "Practice these things, and the God of peace shall be with you." (9)

It's no wonder that we feel more peaceful when we walk in beautiful nature that God created. Or perhaps we feel peace when we go to worship on Sunday and arrive early to sit in the sanctuary and pray. Or when we remember to thank God for the list of good things He's given us. 

A joyful attitude, a gentle disposition, praying instead of fear, and daily asking God for His peace -- all of these are challenges for me. 

Additional passages: Luke 8:48, Rom. 5:1, John 14:27, Gal. 5:22, Ps. 29:11, Isa. 26: 3, II Tim. 2:22

Fear Not!

 This final Sunday in Advent we light the Angels' candle.

The contrast of one small flickering wick against the glowing host of God's angelic army, is a shocking one. This is the candle of peace.

Why did the angels proclaim peace? Because previously they had come for war. They are the heavenly army, and God's Son is the captain of that host. He told Joshua so, when the Israelites  approached the Jordan River.

The heavenly army -- myriads, the Scripture says, which is pretty much an uncountable, limitless number in Greek -- had lost its captain. As the angel stands on the ground in front of the shepherds, telling them about the Christ lying in an animal trough, he might as well have said it this way, "We've lost our commander. He's now one of you. We've often been at war with humans, but now, because He's joined your side, we must be at peace."

We don't see God's army of angels too often in the Bible's account, before that night near Bethlehem. Jacob saw them going up and down a ladder -- going back and forth between heaven and earth as if they were out running errands. That must've been a shock! Do we think of angels back and forth, back and forth, around us every day? 

The prophet Elijah knew the angelic army was there in huge numbers, circling all the hills around the Syrian army. He asked God to show them to his servant. An army at the ready, able to obliterate God's enemies in a moment. One angel alone killed 185,000 Assyrian soldiers in one night. What could tens of thousands of them do? What kind of power is that?

"Fear not!" Certainly they must tell that to everyone they meet. They inspire fear. They're not floating ladies in sparkly tiaras, singing descants. They're soldiers. 

Since when does an army of unlimited number come down to the enemy camp and say, "Peace"? Peace to all men with whom God is pleased. Peace to you, shepherds. Peace to traveling strangers who seek God. Peace to all the people, they said. 

The peace proclaimed wasn't peace among humans, obviously. It is peace between God and humans, and His army will not be called out against them so long as its commander shares their DNA. His incarnation is our salvation. He is resurrected in heaven right now, in his physical body, so that all those fierce angels look at Him and remember: "We are at peace with them." Hallelujah.

"Are not all angels ministering spirits, sent to serve those who will inherit salvation?" Hebrews 1:14

Shepherds and Their Sheep

 The third week of Advent -- we light the Shepherds' Candle. During the fast that is Advent, this Sunday is a break, a reprieve, a day of joy. 

God the Father announced the birth of His Son with a stunning musical display in the sky! I wish I could have seen that concert. He also deliberately chose to show this 'concert par excellence' only to shepherds. This is rather like Chopin, Liszt, Beethoven, and Brahms presenting a piano concert secretly in the middle of the night in rural Pennsylvania and inviting only homeless people.

A new Christmas carol is popular right now. Here are the lyrics:

"O come, all you unfaithful,

Come, weak and unstable,

Come, know you are not alone.

O come, barren and waiting ones,

Weary of praying, come

See what your God has done.

Christ is born, Christ is born,

Christ is born for you."

There are more lyrics, and they are worth reading. Much as I love the old carols and feel they are true, this is certainly the gospel: Baby Jesus came for the lowest of all. They were invited to His birth -- the shepherds, the foreigners, the travelers, the poor. 

That's why this is the candle of Joy. The most valuable gift in the universe is given to the most needy, yes? Much as it pains me to point it out, at the time He was born, Jesus was hidden from the high and powerful, the bold and confident. Do not look for Him in their ranks. When they are brought low with suffering and trial, then you will find Him among them.

What Joy, to find that God's best gift is for YOU, when you are at your lowest! The angels' song is for you, the miracle is for you, the hope is for you. Heaven is for you.

"Come to me,

all you who are weary and heavy-laden,

and I will give you rest.

Take my yoke upon you,

and learn of Me,

for I am gentle and humble of heart,

and you will find rest for your souls;

for My yoke is easy

and my burden is light."

~ Jesus

Little Bethlehem

 This second week of Advent we light the Bethlehem candle. Although we've romanticized it in nativity story, Bethlehem was a troubled city, a city of death and birth. 

Bethlehem's first significant event was the death of Rachel, Jacob's beloved wife, as she gave birth to Benjamin in a difficult labor. As she was dying, and he was being born, she gave him his name: "son of my sorrow."

At the end of the Judges a horrifying story is told. A woman from Bethlehem, the wife of a priest, has left him and gone home to her daddy. The priest retrieves her, fails to protect her during their journey away from Bethlehem, and she is attacked, raped, and murdered. Which townsmen raped and murdered her? The men of Jerusalem -- men of Benjamin. How did the priest express his anger and offense at her death? He cut her into 12 pieces and sent her body parts to the heads of the 12 tribes. The nation was shocked and angry. Civil War ensued. The men of Benjamin were nearly wiped out -- all because a woman left her home in Bethlehem and died a brutal death in Jerusalem.

The very next Scripture is the book of Ruth, which also takes place in Bethlehem. Ruth is David's great grandmother. She's a stranger from Moab, but the rest of the family is from Bethlehem. Ruth has been barren until she comes to Bethlehem where she finds a husband and bears a son. And David's line continues all the way down to Joseph, who takes pregnant Mary there because the census requires that they be counted in their home town. So she goes to have her baby boy there, in Bethlehem.

So many babies!

After they escape Bethlehem by night, the baby boys of Bethlehem are all slaughtered in one night by soldiers sent from Herod, a king terrified of a new baby king. 

These thoughts rumble around in my head and I try to make sense of them. So many babies. So much violence. So much promise, but so much loss. Doesn't it sound like our lives? So much hope; so much loss. Babies fill us with hope, new little humans with years of potential in them! But the story of Bethlehem is a cautionary tale in the midst of that hope. For Mary, Jesus was also the "son of my sorrow," a baby boy destined for brutal death. 

These are uncomfortable thoughts at Christmas, but Advent is supposed to be a time of uncomfortable reflection, of somber preparation, much like Lent. Why isn't it a time of raucous, jubilant celebration because the Savior of the world is coming? Why do we grieve in Advent? Because he comes to die. The prophets foretold that as well. 

Thanks for bearing with me as I ruminate on this new understanding of little Bethlehem. God gives us eternal hope, unyielding hope, but the road to Bethlehem -- and away from it -- is hard.

How I Feel About My Suffering

(This is a religious post, just so you know ~)

Some of you are suffering, I know. I am too. My heart aches for friends who are in such distress right now: loved ones very ill, job loss, crises with kids, marriages unraveling. My present suffering is anxiety, which (according to my therapist) is defined as: 1) uncertainty, and 2) self-doubt. That's a helpful definition.

A verse from Scripture that has puzzled me for years is this one: "But to the degree that you share the sufferings of Christ, keep on rejoicing." (I Peter 4:13) I've pondered long over what exactly it means to "share the sufferings of Christ." Recently I decided to make a list of some possible ways our sufferings could be a sharing with Jesus's sufferings -- how are our sufferings like His?

1. Does your suffering bring glory to God?

2. Does your suffering stem from any self-sacrifice of yourself for others?

3. Does your suffering come because you are in any way obeying God's call in your life?

4. Does your suffering come to you because of your love for, or commitment to, someone else?

5. Is your suffering ever done in quiet surrender?

6. Does your suffering ever require you to bear someone else's grief or carry their sorrows?

7. Does your suffering seem insanely unfair to you, like you are being sacrificed?

8. Does your suffering seem to diminish you, humble you, or curtail your potential?

These are descriptors, I think, of Jesus's suffering, and sometimes of ours too. You may not think you ever share in Jesus's sufferings, but probably you do. His suffering came from love, self-sacrifice, humility, patience, and obedience. 

It has helped me to have definitions, to put a finger on the problem and look it in its face. I look at my anxiety and I say to it, "I know you. You are my self-doubt. I'm working on that." Or, "I know you, you are uncertainty in my future. I'm working on that too." My uncertainty and my self-doubt have come about, at times, because of my sacrifices for others, and I bet your sufferings have come for that reason too. 

Be comforted, friend. Peter finishes with, "Let those also who suffer according to the will of God entrust their souls to a faithful Creator in doing what is right." God doesn't want me to be anxious, but He has given me the situations that have produced that self-doubt and uncertainty, and He wants me to trust myself to Him, in the middle of those feelings. Trust that He knows what He's doing. Trust that with help I can manage it. Trust His promises to be with me as I walk this road.

As you wake up today and deal with your suffering, remember that Jesus suffers with you and won't leave you. There's a purpose. If nothing else, suffering like He did will make us like Him, won't it?

I've Been Living the Christian Life the Wrong Way

 How hard is it to turn lemons into lemonade, as they say?

How hard is it to come out of the deep places of suffering, into hope and joy?

Really hard.

A friend recommended three videos from Paul Miller, whom I'd never heard of. He understands the pattern of the Christian's life in a way I'd never seen described before. He calls it the "J-Curve." In the first video, he describes the suffering he and his wife experienced, and how he learned to love her:

The next two videos were chapel messages given at Covenant College, my alma mater. I cried as I watched this next video. I've always struggled with this Bible verse: "That I may know Jesus, and the power of His resurrection, and join in the fellowship of His suffering, and be conformed to His death." I didn't understand how my suffering could mystically be joined with His suffering -- how did that work? But I felt certain that if I didn't understand how to do that, my own repeated sufferings in life were not going to have the effect God wanted them to -- that I would be left swirling in a repeated whirlwind of suffering and not understanding why.

Paul Miller seems like a humble man. Rather, he is a humbled man, who has lived this pattern of mini-deaths and recovering redemptions (or resurrections -- whatever you want to call the upward swing). He can tell me how to do it, because I want that. I have been pummeled by recurring suffering too often in life, and this last round in the boxing ring with Mr. Suffering during Adam's illness has nearly done me in.

This third video is excellent. He digs a bit more into how many Christians have zero understanding about the gift of suffering, so they live in the opposite, horrible pattern: the Failure/Boasting chart. If you've suffered, and also been beat up by the church when you are down in the pit of it, this video is for you. If you feel church leadership is more of a power structure, with hardly any compassion for the downhearted, this video is for you. 

My old self is wondering if I will have success implementing his message -- that would be thinking in the Failure/Boasting model. It's not about "success." I think it's more about prayer. As he says, the moment when you are weeping and begging God for help, pleading Him to hear and intervene in your deep suffering, that is the moment when you are in the Garden with Jesus, and understand a little piece of His suffering. I need more of that kind of prayer. I want to receive my past sufferings as gifts from God rather than painful history to be rehearsed and hated. I hope these messages are as encouraging to you as they've been to me. Much love, dear friends.

Wise Words from a Saint and Sister

My beautiful elderberry

 I ordered this used book online.

 Do you know Helen Roseveare? She was a medical missionary in Africa in the middle of the 20th Century. She knew struggle, she knew sin, and she knew suffering. She also made it her life's goal to know God. I'm still pondering that balance in life -- the importance of knowing God, and the importance of being known by God.

Here's a quote from Roseveare in her introduction to the book that I read over and over, finding it so wise, so helpful. It's long. I will pare it down to make it more succinct:

"My life ... has been for me a journey toward one definite and glorious goal, 'that I may know Him.' I have often felt that my life was akin to mountaineering, with a clear goal to reach the highest peak .... I found frequently that I climbed in glorious sunshine ... my face set determinedly for the nearest peak .... I revelled in the sense of achievement and victory and in the glorious view .... Then, slowly, my imagination would be caught by the next peak ... and eventually the resolve would form to set off upwards again.
"Here I made a mistake, many times .... As I went down from the present peak into the valley between the mountains, I was often shadowed by the very peak I had been enjoying .... This often led to despair .... I see now that I was wrong in this 'feeling.' The going down was merely an initial moving forward towards the next higher ground, never a going back to base level. The shadow was only relative after the brightness of the sun; the valley could provide rest for working out the experiences previously learnt, a time for refreshment before the next hard climb."

And here's the part that grabbed me:
"Had I understood this meaning of the sunshine and shadow in my life rather than interpreting my experiences along life's way as 'up' and 'down,' I might have saved myself many deep heartaches" (p. 8)

Are you ever puzzled as you try to interpret the events of your life, especially as you get older and it becomes apparent that most of your life is done, and there's little time to somehow "fix" the past or even see it in an improved context? I do, all the time. I find Roseveare's words so comforting as I remember (or am living in) those shadowed, deep valleys where perspective is limited. I usually close my eyes, figuratively speaking, and just survive. Grit my teeth and wait on the Lord. Look at Roseveare's counsel: those dark, low valleys are a time for rest, reflection, refreshment. And if they seem dark, perhaps it's only in contrast to the brightness of the breath-taking mountain peaks we teeter on for five minutes before each descent.

I've barely begun her thin autobiography, but I think it will be rich with wisdom like this.

Sabbath Is Relationship.

Sabbath is time.

A study book* I'm reading caused me to ponder more closely what I'm doing with my Sundays -- the day I call the Lord's Day. We do church. We're there from about 8:45 until about 1:30. Isn't that enough? (Wow - isn't that the wrong question?!!)

The writer helped me to remember that a-day-of rest-after-work is an Edenic concept, and an eternal fact. Sabbath rest is not an Old Testament religious construct that we can chuck out the window now; Sabbath rest is heaven. Rest is what God has called us to do. When I fail to remember this truth, I fail to understand the New Earth God is making for me.

(I see our 7-day week as a kind of broken Ground Hog's Day movie nightmare. We work. We just get started into an eternal rest on Sunday, and then bamm! The week starts all over again. We can't seem to exit the loop and head into our real goal: eternity. Jesus did that successfully, though, on His Sunday. His resurrection broke through the Ground Hog's Day barrier and crashed into eternal rest, and we get to follow Him there. In fact, we can start remaking our lives now to get a good taste of what that wonderful rest is like!)

What should I do with my Sunday? The book writer reminded me that Sabbath rest is all about relationship with God. Hmm -- I thought, "So one day each week I basically have a day date with God." Is that too much time? Yikes - a day is a lot! (Again, that's the wrong question to ask!)

What do you do on a date with a friend or spouse? You devote time, you communicate, you think about each other, you enjoy the time together, and you try to serve the other person. That's a good start. I asked myself, "How can I do all those things, on Sunday, with God?" I'm devoting some time; I could devote the whole day. I need to pray more during the day, just talking with God, keeping my mind on him instead of the constant distractions of my life. I can read the Bible, journal my prayers, and most important -- relax, and enjoy the time. Don't look at the clock. Don't bemoan the things I'm not getting done. (Because ... I'm a doer.)

Part of Sabbath is trusting God that He will give me the time I need on Monday (and Tuesday and all week) to do the things I need to do. It's like manna: enjoy the food for the day and don't worry that it won't be enough. Sabbath is time, time to relax, time to trust that God will provide more time. More time? How much time? Eternity. All the time forever. For the Christian, there is always tomorrow, always more time to do all the things.

What about that last part -- serving God? How can I serve somebody who has everything and can do anything for Himself? What does He possibly need from me? Jesus tells us that when we serve others (especially the needy or those under our care), we are serving Him. If Sabbath is relationship with God, and relationship is service, and serving God is also serving others ... then on Sundays I should devote myself to serving others. My husband first, who is exhausted from his church duties. I spend time with him. I relax. I give him my attention. Other people also, as God brings them my way.

Who do I not focus on, on Sunday? Myself. I tell myself, "No," when my brain says to tend to the herb garden or make soap or clean the house or do the many, many things that I love to do -- tasks that give me a feeling of accomplishment, tasks I usually do alone and love to tick off my "to-do" list, and then dash off to the next task. For me, this isn't Sabbath rest because it doesn't keep my mind on God. It keeps my mind on myself and my labors.

I practiced this new approach yesterday, and I found it interesting. It wasn't hard to catch myself in activities that I should avoid. "There'll be time for that tomorrow," I told myself. I found it a richer day. I found my spirit much calmed by so much one-on-one time with God. That alone was lovely.

"Thou has made us for Thyself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it find its rest in Thee." 
-Augustine of Hippo

*Nancy Guthrie's Even Better Than Eden, "The Story of Sabbath"

Impatience

Sometime in the past few years I stumbled across I Corinthians 13 again and stared at that list of 16 (as I count them) traits that define LOVE. Love, the sign of the Christian. Love, the noblest emotion. "God is love," the Apostle John says.

Love is patient, love is kind. I never got past those first two, and in truth, I never got past "Love is patient." I am an impatient person. I'm the person who is seething inside because someone is making me wait, the person who can't stand to be put on hold on the telephone, the mother who often told her children, "Hurry up! We're late!" The person who is irritated at others who can't do things as fast as I can. And if I'm not hurrying others (impatiently), I'm hurrying myself! Berating myself for not maximizing every minute's use, for sitting around 5 minutes to enjoy the view, for not being the first one to arrive. 

Hurry = impatience. I can't think of an instance when this is not so. I suppose one could hurry for the sake of safety (step on the gas pedal to get across the flashing railroad tracks ... but wouldn't it be better simply to stop?) or for the sake of not making others wait (but shouldn't they patiently wait? Isn't that loving?). However, I'm almost never, ever late for anything. I'm not hurrying myself to be considerate; I'm hurrying myself because I'm impatient even with myself and hurrying has become a habit.

Impatience is a bad habit, but we excuse it in ourselves. We say, "She shouldn't make me wait! That's inconsiderate on her part!" We say, "The children need to learn how to be timely. It's a good character trait." We note rudeness in others when they inconvenience us, prompting our impatience, but we don't realize our impatience itself is rudeness. It's unloving. 

Why? Why should we have not only the appearance of patience, but also the inner peace of it? What's so wonderful about patience, and why is is the very first definition of love? Patience has to do with TIME. I ask myself, Why am I in a hurry? Do I feel I have limited time? If I do everything in my life a little faster, will I have more extra time at the end of life? This is silliness, of course, but we live this way! We act like we must squeeze all the productivity out of every minute because there are a limited number of minutes. 

And that's the lie. In my opinion, that is the very attitude that offends God, the attitude He doesn't want us to have, because it shows a deep misunderstanding of heaven -- of eternity. Do I have a finite number of hours and then Poof! I'm done? No -- I have eternity. Do I need to rush through activities as if I only have 70 or 80 years? No, I have eternity. Do I need to be impatient with others because they're robbing me of precious minutes I could be living as I choose? No, because I have eternity. I have eternity on a New Earth better than this one -- I have all of time, endless time, to do everything I ever want to do.

There is no hurry.

When I hurry, I say, "I don't have eternity," but God has already told me He has given me eternity. When I hurry, I deny this promise. When I'm impatient, I'm denying this promise both for myself and for others. I'm imposing my faithlessness on them, saying, "Why don't you hurry? We'd better both hurry because we don't have enough time in our lives to do it all." That's not love.

Patience is beginning eternity now. Love is reminding each other of eternity, of the sureness of the promise, of the sheer joy of knowing that we have forever to do all the things we simply don't have time for now ... and it's okay. It's okay not to have time for it all now. I'm not in a hurry. And you don't have to hurry for me. Let's relax through life and show that we believe we have all the time in the world.

"Just Give Us the Money" or ...

How does giving work in God's economy?

Last night we watched The Man Who Invented Christmas a second time. It's an excellent movie, I think. Clearly Dickens understood this concept: Some people suffer so that other people can learn to be generous. Tiny Tim suffered in that story so that Scrooge could be given a last-minute chance to repent, change, and open both his heart and his pocket-book.

We learned this spiritual truth years ago from our own lives and the lives of others who suffered. God puts suffering into the lives of innocent, unsuspecting people for the sole benefit of others whom He asks to help them. When the money or clothes or house or car or job is given to the needy person, it looks like that person is the recipient of God's mercy. But by a wonderful trick of God's economy (which is full of surprises), the actual beneficiary is the giver. He is changed ... or he is supposed to be. His participation in the giving is essential, and the more he participates -- the more he gives of himself in the exchange -- the more he benefits.

So, is it better for a person to open his wallet, place the $20 bill in the offering plate, and have no contact with the recipient because the church leadership gathers the money and sends a check? Is it better for a person to take a hungry person to a diner and spend $20 on a meal while talking for an hour? Is it better for a person to buy a $20 gift and drive it to the home of a child who has longed for it, seeing the child, seeing the home, seeing himself there?

We know the answers to these questions. It's better for the giver to be physically and emotionally involved as much as possible. The giving of help or cheer is not just for the sake of the recipient. In God's economy (Who can easily draw help for the poor from any source He chooses, yes?), the giving is probably more for the sake of the giver. Hmm. That thought twists our brains around and makes us uncomfortable. 

Recently Samaritan's Purse's Operation Christmas Child ("the shoebox ministry") has come under fire. Many feel that the cheap plastic toys Christians buy and send overseas are an utterly useless waste of money. Even a well-packed and thoughtful shoebox, they say, is a waste of resources. Couldn't all that money on stuff and postage have been better used as a single monetary gift to the church in the area in Africa? Buy a cow herd or dig a new well? It's a compelling argument. If you want to read more about this issue and some sticky, uncomfortable events in the shoebox world, click on the three links below:
Missionary wife breaks the silence.
Samaritan's Purse responds.
Missionary wife explains further.

All these articles are thoughtfully written. It seems there is some corruption on the level of the National Team that Samaritan's Purse is likely unaware of and will deal with eventually. 

The missionary wife extensively quotes the local pastors, who suggest this:
"If we could convince them [the donors] to just send it [the funds], it would be a very good idea, because I feel that even though this is for the sake of Christmas, the things that the kids get, and we thank God that what they are getting is American standard, but still it doesn’t really meet the needs of the children. These kids get a box – they’ve never been to school! They might get a toothpaste that is of a higher American standard, but we also have toothpaste here. So it’s nice that Christmas comes once but we can use cheaper things and in that way Christmas can go on and have a more lasting impact. Maybe we can convince some to just turn that [their box] into money. Because child-centered programs are incredibly important. And there’s a lot that can be done to mitigate the challenges that the children are facing."

The pastors make very good points. They know the needs. The shoebox contents are not as helpful as money would be. This makes givers in the U.S. scratch their heads and wonder what to do. Ditch the shoeboxes? Choose another ministry that also involves the givers individually, emotionally, physically? Doesn't it sound like the most helpful choice is simply to put $20 in the offering plate and have your church send a check?


Why does God command us to give? What changes of attitude and acts of repentance does God intend to work in us? I've seen people who would never donate $100 to mission work, happily spent it in packing six shoeboxes and paying for their shipping. Why is that? Is there a joy in giving when someone allows you to fully participate? To decide, in your own inept way, what to give to a specific child far away? Is there any value in the joy of the child when she receives hair bows or toe socks or scented soap or a puzzle of a kitten, rather than having her family get a new cow? (Samaritan's Purse does livestock donations too -- click over!)

Must it be an either/or choice? Of course not. Lots people give to lots of ministries. And this is my personal advice (worth all of a penny!): give in the way that God leads your heart. If you love doing shoeboxes, keep doing it, and pray that God uses it fully for His kingdom, because He surely can. He can accomplish just as many eternal, kingdom blessings with shoeboxes as he can with cows. God's economy works that way.

But if you prefer to support ladies making jewelry and selling it in the U.S., do that. Or digging a new well for better water for a village, do that. Or taking an Angel Tree gift to a child four blocks away, do that. Or sending a big check to a mission board, do that. Be open to the prodding of the Holy Spirit. He will direct you to give in the way that will most pry open your heart and tenderize it, which is His goal. 

God can always rise up people to help the poor, and He will do it. The question is, will I be one of them? When I give, then He takes the gift, whatever it may be, and He changes and uses it to meet His ends. That's the wonder of an economy of need and giving, ruled by the King.

What Do We Say in Suffering?

It's a week of suffering. Friends in our state and our county are emerging from the ravages of a hurricane -- a Category 1 storm with Category 4 storm surge, we're told. Some neighbors have lost everything they own. When you don't have money for next week's groceries, how do you rebuild? Where do you live while you rebuild? Who will help you?

This is the restaurant where Anna and Gramm had their rehearsal dinner.
Those are supposed to be roads all around.
(photo credit: Larry Summers)

But I'm in Mississippi, helping Anna. She and Gramm are tenderly caring for a beloved family member who is ill. They're both working too. I came to clean their home, do their laundry, clean out the refrigerator, feed them, love them. 

These are only two kinds of suffering; turn on the news and find more. You have your own suffering too. What do we say when we suffer?

We say, "Why?" Or if you're a person of faith, "Why God?" Or if you're a Christian, "Why, Jesus?" We may scream, "Help me!" or "Save me!" "Take me out of this horrible place in my life!"

I was up about 4:00 this morning. I've slept in five different beds in the past week, away from home. The morning's peaceful routine of reading my Bible is so calming, so I turned to today's chapter, John 12 ~~

Jesus knows He's about to be crucified, a horrific, degrading death in itself. On top of that, He'll have mountains of our sins piled onto Him, to bear into Hell on His shoulders so He can get rid of them once and for all. What a thing for a God to do! 

"Now My soul is troubled," He says. Of course.
"What shall I say?" Jesus asks.  In His suffering, what does He say?  What should we say when we suffer?

"Father, save Me from this hour"?
"Father, save me from this flooding and destruction."
"Father, save me from losing my home."
"Father, save me from cancer."
"Father, save me from watching my loved one die."

Jesus says no. In suffering, He refused to say, "Save me, Father," because He knew the Father would do it. Then we would all have been lost forever, banned from heaven. 

Instead, Jesus said, "Father, glorify Thy Name." 

It is so very hard to say anything other than "Save me!!" when we're going under. Peter yelled it, and Jesus saved him. Sometimes "Save me, Father!!" is the automatic distress call; we can't help it. But if we have time to think, it can be better to say, "Father, glorify yourself in my suffering. Use it to show who You are and what you can do. Use it to show other people your love. Use it to show how You can transform the human soul. Use it to show your power. Use it in ways I can't even imagine yet." 

Or like Jesus, "Use my suffering to save others into heaven."

Soil, Seed, Water

"The LORD God formed man of dust from the ground,

 and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life; and man became a living being."

"The sower went out to sow, and as he sowed,

some seeds fell beside the road ...

and others fell upon the rocky places ...

and others fell among the thorns ...

and others fell on the good soil and yielded a crop."

"Putting away all filthiness and all wicked malice,

in humility receive the word implanted,

which is able to save your souls."

"Sow with a view to righteousness,

reap in accordance with kindness.

Break up your fallow ground, for it is time to seek the LORD

until He comes to rain righteousness on you."

"The seed that later bears righteousness

is sown in peace by those who make peace."

"The one on whom seed was sown into good soil,

this is the person who hears the word and understands it."

"The one who sows the good seed is Jesus,

and the field is the world,

and the good seed he sows are the sons of God's kingdom."

"Wait patiently, brothers, until the Lord comes.

Look, the farmer waits for the precious produce of the soil,

being patient about it, until it gets both

the early and late rains."

(All the above are Scripture passages.)

A humble heart is the best soil.

The seed is God's Word, spread abroad to everyone.

The rain that nourishes it is God's righteousness.

Peacefully, kindly, patiently we wait for the harvest.

Justice vs. Sacrifice

An excellent article on marriage I'm reading just sparked an idea. (Here's the article.) The husband writes that we've all told ourselves, all our lives, that we must be true to ourselves, discover our own spiritual heights, be authentic to ourselves. As he says, "An authentic life means being true to ourselves, and there's nothing more inauthentic than doing something counter to our current emotional state. Basically, if I'm not feeling it, then I shouldn't have to do it."

That's a little crassly put, but we do all practice this principle. We teach it to our children and defend it in our culture: personal justice! Do not tolerate anyone treating you badly! Fight back and defend what's right! Push for personal justice and rights! Every group in the country (and the individuals within those groups) are encouraged to fight for personal justice. We tell ourselves that in fighting for me we are also fighting for others. Yeah.

And what's wrong with that?

If you're a Christian, I'll tell you what's wrong with that -- Jesus taught the opposite. He taught us not to seek our own good, our own way. He taught to present your second cheek to be slapped after your first is stinging. He taught us to absorb the wrong, and then forgive it. If you are His follower (in Scripture, the correct term is "bond-servant," i.e., slave) then you have given up your claim to personal justice for yourself. If you're not ready to at least make a half-hearted attempt at that, then reconsider your connections to the Man.

Seriously, people. Let everybody else hammer out how badly they've been treated. You should be busy with other things. The only justice Jesus ever told us to concern themselves with is justice for the truly oppressed -- the poor, the homeless, the abandoned, the orphans, the people whom organizations and institutions love to extort and use. We are to forget about rights and justice for ourselves, and seek it for them.

In Jesus's mind, the two are mutually exclusive.

I see this every day at the afterschool program where I work. Here's how it goes -- I call the 31 children to make a line so we can go inside to the restroom. Instantly I hear, "She broke in front of me!" "I carried that basketball outside and I'm supposed to carry it in!" "She stuck her tongue out at me!" And on and on. The 'breaking in line' complaint is my personal favorite. I ask the child, "Are you the line leader? Do you have a particular place in the line anyway? Does it really matter if she's in front of you? Will you get to the bathroom any later?" Of course there's absolutely no practical implication, no tangible wrong done, if someone steps in line in front of you when you're seven years old. Or when your 47, or 70 either. But, oh my, does it make us mad! We have been wronged! We have been ill-used and treated rudely. It's the principle of the thing! We must never tolerate injustice in any form!

I agree that rudeness and meanness and ill-treatment are offensive in our culture. But I wish that we would all adopt this attitude: Never try to address any injustice against self; always address injustice done to others.

If we all did that (an impossibility, I'm sure) what a different world we would live in.

If we ceased seeking our own rights and justice in our marriages, and instead began seeking it only for our partners.

If we stopped seeking our own rights and justice at our jobs, and instead began seeking it only for our co-workers.

If we stopped teaching our kids to look out for their own rights and justice and began teaching them to look out for others.

If we stopped, as a church, looking out for our church's rights and justice at the hands of our government or culture, and began seeking the rights and justice of the oppressed instead.

And, last but not least, if we stopped expecting those who don't profess any relationship with Jesus to behave in ways that we who do profess this relationship, won't behave. Fighting for one's own rights and personal justice is perfectly normal in the world. Let the world do its thing. Be different -- that's all Jesus asked us to do, just be different. He knew it would be nearly impossible to deny ourselves, to sacrifice that way. So He did it first to show us that it could be done.

Shakespeare addressed these thoughts in Hamlet. Polonius advises his son, Laertes, "This above all - to thy own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man." The father dies at the hand of Hamlet, a man who struggled with this concept more deeply: "To be or not to be -- that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them." Laertes, in the end, murders Hamlet and then dies himself. What sad ends for men who found self-sacrifice so impossible!

Do we suffer wrongs? Do we rouse ourselves and fight against them? Are we true to self above all others? Look to Jesus. Be different.

"I am exceedingly afflicted; Revive me, O LORD, according to Thy Word."

I'm reading in Psalm 119 now. The verse above caught my mind this morning. I cannot say that I myself am "exceedingly afflicted" right now -- right now -- but I have some friends who are. And I've been there. And I bet you have too.

I have friends in church work who are suffering, who have been booted from their beloved work and beloved people; who are so afflicted by the church politics that they would willingly shake the dust from their church shoes and be done with it!; who are soon to leave their ministry and are searching for another place; who simply have been laid off from their secular jobs and are worried about the future. All these, in my small circle of friends! I hurt for them. I hurt for their wives and families.

Another pastor friend recently shared comforting verses from Matthew 6.

 These verses have been my old friends for many years. I have read and marked and reread and memorized and dug out all the comfort I can from them. Yet, as God's Word always does, they continue to give and give.
To aid in memorization, I wrote out the words:

 Memorization is helped by writing and underlining and circling words, and keeping this little sheet in my Bible to remind me not to let it slip from my mind.

Notice above the words, "But seek first ..."? I didn't need to write out the remainder of that verse because it is a song. And words committed to song are stuck in the mind forever.

I've been trying to comfort some of my afflicted friends lately. Psalm 37 is another passage presenting itself to me for consideration over and over. "Do Not Fret," it says. Don't fret because of evildoers, because they are short-lived. Don't fret because of those who aren't afflicted like you -- be secure in God's care for you. Don't fret -- it will only make you as evil as those who are afflicting you! (That last one is so true.)

The answer to fretting about these situations is to calm your soul with trust in God. Delight in God because He is the one possession no one can take from you. And when you delight in Him, He in turn provides you with everything you need. If you are losing something you've loved it's because God has decided you don't need it right now.

It's so difficult to look at the evil that others are doing to you (especially if they are fellow-Christians) and say, "God is allowing them to do this. God is using their actions to move me on to where He really wants me to be." The anger is like a itch that demands to be scratched over and over. Don't scratch!

What is God's Word, when we are afflicted? It's the salve, the balm that we need. Don't indulge in anger; commit to forgiveness. Don't allow fear and anxiety; fight them as much as you can with the memorization of God's own words. Don't roll your eyes when I say that until you have diligently tried it yourself; it works.

If you pass the afflicted hours/weeks/months with prayers of forgiveness for those who harm you, and with a deep, steady commitment to God's Word, you'll find that you emerge on the other side of this dark valley a much better person. It's a time of spiritual growth and enrichment. You will be proving that God's plans (even the hard ones) are for your good. I say this all in love because I've been there too, and I will probably be there again. When I am, somebody please remind me of all this truth!

Easter Timeline

Recently we studied this topic during our Tuesday night Bible study at church, and it was so fun and interesting that I had to do it as a blog post -- if only for my own enjoyment, and to record my thoughts. Have you ever pondered what happened when, on Easter morning?

Mary came first.

All four gospels record the events of Easter morning. Remember -- the Jewish day went from sunset to sunset. So "Sunday morning" (or, the end of the Sabbath) started for them as soon as the sun set on (what we would call) Saturday evening. With that in mind, it seems to me that the first event of Easter morning was:
1) The stone is rolled away and the guards are stunned, and Jesus is resurrected. (Matthew 28:2 - 4). This event occurs before anyone comes to the tomb to visit. It happens while it is still dark, in the night before Sunday morning. If we think of Jesus rising with the sunrise, we're wrong.
Next:
2) Mary Magdalene comes alone to the tomb (John 20:1). It was already Sunday ("the first day of the week"), but that only means that the sun had set Saturday evening. She comes in the dark. John notes that it is "early." Mary might have come at midnight, or sometime in the middle of the night. Perhaps she couldn't sleep? Perhaps she was worried because Jesus's body had been hastily prepared for burial and she wanted to get a jump-start on that job? Was she simply mourning? For whatever reason, she came alone, in the dark, to a cemetery (a rock face probably lined with tombs). She found the stone rolled from the entrance. She assumes since the stone is moved, the body is stolen. She doesn't go inside the cave. She runs to Peter and John (who are probably asleep at their homes) and tells them the body has been stolen.  John does not say it's sunrise yet, so I'm assuming all this happens in the dark.

Mary says to John and Peter, "...and WE do not know where they have laid him." It's possible that even at this point, Mary is not alone but is with a group of women. Just because one of the gospel writers says certain people are at a location doesn't mean they are the only ones. It simply means those people are there. However, this interpretation doesn't fit well with later events.

It's also possible that Mary (and the other women) leave their homes while it is still dark (as John says), but arrive at the tomb after the sun is up. The other gospels indicate that a group of women (including Mary Magdalene) come to the tomb after sunrise with spices for the body. Mark (16:3) tells us that the women are wondering "who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance of the tomb?" If Mary is among them and she's already been to the open tomb, why would she be wondering how to move the stone? In order for Mary to participate in this conversation, others must have convinced her that she visited the wrong tomb in the dark, an unused tomb, and assumed it was Jesus's tomb.

However -- Mark says this group of women enter the tomb, see an angel, and are told Jesus is miraculously alive. If so, this simply cannot be the same tomb visit that Mary did in the dark. She left the tomb that time thinking the body had been stolen, and she did not enter the tomb that time. So, I'm inclined to think Mary did a solo tomb visit first, and returned later with a group of women after sunrise to rewrap the body, convinced that she'd visited the wrong tomb earlier.

Mark (16:9) seems to make a special note to the reader that Jesus appeared first to Mary Magdalene alone, and then later to others, after she'd reported to them.
Mark also says (15:47) that Mary Magdalene and Mary Joses's mother looked on as Joseph and Nicodemus laid Jesus's body in the tomb on Friday (before the Sabbath) "to see where He was laid." Mary wanted to be sure of the location. This was a tomb location they were unsure of at first. On Friday the women were already making plans to care for the body.

After Mary's first visit, what happens next is:
3) Peter and John run to the tomb at her prompting. (John 20:3-10) This account is only found in John, which makes sense since he's one of the two disciples involved. It's quite detailed. John outruns Peter and arrives first at the tomb, but doesn't go in. (Remember than if a Jewish man is in contact with a dead body, he becomes unclean for a period of time.) But when impulsive Peter arrives, he passes John and runs into the tomb. He sees the linen wrappings folded neatly. This made an impression because John describes it. Why would a body thief fold the wrappings so carefully? (Indeed, isn't it a lovely mental image to think of Jesus, newly resurrected, standing by the stone bed, carefully wrapping his bedclothes in the dark before he went to walk about? Did He do it because it was a good thing to do? Or so that these two men could see it and made deductions from it?)

John sees the wrappings and "he believes." But I'm not quite sure what he believes, because in the next sentence we're told (by John) that he and Peter "as yet did not understand ... that He must rise again from the dead." It seems John believes what Mary has told him: the body is gone. But resurrection? The men can't conceive of that yet. Mary didn't either. And their next actions (I think) show that lack of understanding; they split up and go back home. If it's still dark, they're probably going back to bed.

Are they worried that the body is missing? Do they begin to worry that they'll be accused of stealing it?

4) The disciples and followers gather somewhere in one place. All four gospel sources (Matt 28:8, Mark 16:10-11, Luke 24:9, John 20:18) indicate that the disciples are gathered together, mourning. Luke says the women reported the resurrection "to the eleven and all the rest." This means that sometime after Mary's first visit and after Peter and John's run to the tomb, the disciples gather as a group. Something has prompted them to meet and discuss things. Is it the apparent theft of the body? There is nothing to indicate at this point that anyone thinks Jesus is alive. They just know the body is missing. Mary saw it first. Peter and John went to check. Sure enough -- it's gone. What are they going to do? As they are meeting and talking, the group of women take spices to the tomb ...

5) The women take spices. They come "when the sun had risen" (Mark 16:2), "as it began to dawn" (Matt. 28:1), "at early dawn" (Luke 24:1). This seems distinct from Mary's visit, which was in the dark. All four writers make a point of what time it is. Here are the women: Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary James's mother, Salome, and 'other women.' They wonder how the stone will be removed. They anticipate finding the body, because they bring spices for it. Matthew says an angel speaks to them, telling of resurrection. Mark says the angel is inside the tomb. Luke says there were two angels inside the tomb. John says that Mary also saw the two angels inside the tomb when she is eventually left there alone again.

The women are instructed by the angels that Jesus is resurrected, that He had told them this would happen, that He will meet his disciples in Galilee, and that the women are to hurry and tell the disciples that Jesus is alive. They clearly do this. Luke says the women's words "appeared to them as nonsense, and they would not believe them." Mark notes that when Mary reported to the disciples that He was alive, "they refused to believe it." Matthew says that Jesus appeared to the women while they were on the way to the disciples, "and they came up and took hold of His feet and worshiped Him."

Mark, however, gives this interesting piece of information: the women fled from the tomb after the angels talked to them, "for trembling and astonishment had gripped them." These women were terrified of the miraculous spiritual events that had just happened. They were already in shock from the crucifixion of two days before. They'd come to apply spices to a body; instead they were addressed by angels! Mark says: "and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid." You can hardly blame them. When they do decide to tell the disciples, their words are rejected and they're counted as idiots. Jesus has to appear to the disciples Himself on Sunday evening before they will believe. But the women apparently delay relaying their message for a time.

6) Mary speaks with Jesus. John tells us this sweet account. I place it last because it seems the other women have left the tomb. Mary has already been here once in the dark, run back to Peter and John, come back with a group of women (who've now run away in fear), and is emotionally exhausted, sitting by the empty tomb. Even after the angels' words, she thinks the body is stolen, and she is weeping. When Jesus is standing by her, she thinks he is the gardener ... and she still thinks the body has been stolen! Really? When asked why she's crying, she says to the supposed gardener, "Because they have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid Him." Then she says to the supposed gardener, "If you have carried Him away, tell me where you have laid Him, and I will take Him away." She doesn't believe the angels. She doesn't believe the empty tomb or the folded cloths. No, she has to see Jesus in the flesh herself, before she'll believe. She's not much different from Doubting Thomas, is she?

In summary, what strikes me from this study is how nobody considered resurrection. They all assumed the body was stolen, i.e., that Jesus's body didn't leave the tomb on its own two legs, but that somebody carried it away. It took a lot to convince them! I love thinking about the various people coming to the tomb, drawn by God to come witness and not-believe. We think of Jesus rising from the dead as the sun comes up, but it didn't happen that way. He rose in the deep dark of night, when nobody knew it was happening. There was an earthquake, and the stone rolled away, and the angels came, and the guards fainted away, and Jesus quietly folded his grave clothes and left the tomb. The next steps there were Mary's, wondering in the darkness if she'd found the right tomb. From then on, it's a story of repeated disbelief.  No one believed  until he/she had seen Jesus.  Jesus finally appeared to the men on Sunday evening. I bet that was a rough day for the women!

We take resurrection for granted. We glibly say, "Jesus rose from the dead," as if that's the most common thing on the planet. But it's not, and if we witnessed a real, bodily resurrection ourselves, we'd be fainting and screaming and running too. And we wouldn't believe it, no matter who told us, until we'd seen and touched and talked to the resurrected person ourselves. Mary had quite a morning! First to the tomb. First to see Jesus, and therefore first to believe. First to say, "I have seen the Lord!"

Why We Should Bury Our Hopes

"Dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness."

Psalm 37:3

That phrase, "cultivate faithfulness," also means "feed on God's faithfulness" or "feed securely."

I ruminate on this idea, that God's faithfulness to me is something that's supposed to nourish and feed my soul. It's a food/farming metaphor, but David the poet loves metaphors, so I'm on safe ground. 

God's faithfulness to me is like soil, good garden soil. It's solid and you can stand on it, but it's also loamy and you can dig into it, examine it, and bury seeds into it. Like physical soil God's faithfulness is life-giving, so seeds that are buried into it will germinate, grow, flourish, and eventually feed me.

What kind of seed do I bury into God's faithfulness? What do I take of my own, and I give it to God, and I say, "Here, God, please do something with this. Make it grow."

I think the seeds are our hopes. We can't make them grow and feed us, but God can. On our knees we scoop up a handful of God's faithfulness to us, and we examine it. How do we know He is faithful? We think about our lives, the decades behind us, and remember how He has brought us out of many troubles, how He has guided us to make good decisions, how He has redeemed and transformed our bad decisions, how He has loved us anyway. That faithfulness is the soil to which we now take our tiny, last, precious seed of itty-bitty hope, and into which we bury that seed. Our last hope.

Then what? We wait. Seeds don't sprout immediately. Hopes don't mature today. But God is faithful, and His soil always brings life, and in time the hope will pop through into the daylight and grow and become beautiful.

But that's not the goal -- the goal, as Ps. 37:3 says, is to nourish and feed us. God's faithful soil isn't lawn grass, it's vegetables! It will enrich our souls and satisfy our spirits and make us trust Him more for the next round of troubles that will come.

Bury your hopes. Give them up. Hand them to God and He will hand them back to you -- better, bigger, satisfying, mature. As the very next verse says, "Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart." If we delight in Him, of course, He is our desire. 

Many, many thanks to the dear friend who shared this psalm again with me this week. It has been a blessing over and over.

In the Dark Hours of the Night

It's 12:15. Just after midnight. I stayed up until 11:15, knitting, trying to become sleepy enough so that when I did go to bed, I would fall asleep. My stomach hurts from so much churning, and the churning is from anxiety. There are things to worry about, and it doesn't much matter what they are this time; in a few years it will be a new thing to stress over. But the stress, the anxiety, the churning, will feel the same. It's felt the same for years, on nights like this.

When I flicked off the light and lay there and almost drifted into sleep several times between 11:15 and 12:15, each time my nervous, frenzied brain would wake me with a start. It's just fear. Sometimes I deal with it better, and sometimes I deal with it worse, like this time. I recited the Scripture I presently have memorized, and it's a good one -- "For this reason (because you cannot worship God and money) I say unto you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or drink, nor for your body, what you shall put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air. They neither sow nor reap nor do they gather into barnes. Yet your heavenly Father takes care of them." That's as far as my memory could get.

I imagined Jesus speaking to me, just to me. "Do NOT be anxious." Worries are so much worse in the middle of the night. My heart is unreasonable and will not be consoled. "He has it all in hand." 'Then why is it falling apart?' I ask. I bring to mind the consolations that friends have shared in recent days, especially one from an old saint. "Try not to worry about things so much, and if you do, remember that He has it all under control." That's a paraphrase. The mind paraphrases a lot after midnight.

Again, this isn't about this particular trouble. There have been literally hundreds of troubles over the past thirty years. It's about how I handle the trouble. Sometimes it seems to slip off my back and leave me unscathed. This time, my heart is trembling and palpitating, my throat feels closed, I can't eat much. I feel sick. And my brain jerks me awake when I'm exhausted.

So I sit up now. It's 12: 26. My old trusty Bible lies by me, and I will read. I will read until I feel reassured, until the Holy Spirit calms me and takes charge of my weak spirit again. Anxiety is such a useless state. Reading the Bible puts one's life in perspective. When I read about how God rescues millions of people from slavery, or saves a man from death, or keeps His promises over and over, then my little trouble seems manageable. I know it's manageable to Him.

Then why does my heart still quiver? Why am I so afraid? My eyes drift over the pages of the psalms, looking for words for my situation, comfort for my trouble. Some are so pertinent that they're sharp. I will not quote them here. But "In my trouble I cried to the LORD, and He answered me." Yes.
Suffice it to say, I know both David and the Lord fully understand my fears and inner strife.

How thankful I am that His Word brings such comfort in the dark hours of the night.

Stain Removal

And no, this isn't a post about what your kids are tracking in or what your puppy left for you on the carpet.

This is a church story.

We have old carpet stains at our church. The church provides sodas for people to drink, and sometimes the soda cans, full of sticky sugar, get knocked over .. and splash!!! ... stains happen.
Unfortunately, we ladies of the church have neglected the stains for many months now. Quite a few stains grace the floor in the fellowship hall, but a good-sized one with a lovely spray pattern lies in the hallway, and a round one about the side of my hand sits in the middle of the aisle in the sanctuary.

The stains were mentioned to me again recently. Nobody, really, is "in charge" of cleaning, exactly. Adam rented a big machine carpet cleaner last year, but it didn't touch the soda stains.

How long does it take to make a stain? Two seconds? Carelessness, silliness, hastiness.

How long does it take to remove such a stain?

Some of us ladies meet at the church sanctuary each Monday morning for a simple hour of prayer. Afterward I stayed around. I'd brought my stain removal aids. I'd decided to attack the sanctuary stain. The church was vacant, quiet. I assembled my spray cleaner, brush, paper towels, rag, and two bowls of water so I wouldn't have to heave myself off the floor each time I wanted to rinse out the foamy rag. In my enthusiasm I always spray too much cleaner on the stain. Then it takes f o r e v e r  to get it all out.

I sat and I scrubbed and I wiped and I dug and I wiped and I rinsed and repeated.

I spent a half hour on the sanctuary stain and a half hour on the hallway stain with the lovely spray pattern. I remember when that stain happened. We used to practice handbell chimes in the hallway, a couple of years ago. One of the teenagers, I forget which one, knocked over a soda -- probably a clear one, at that -- and we all said, "oops!!" and patted it with paper towels and felt better about it.

And forgot about it.

But stains have a way of coming back over time. The sugar is sticky and attracts dirt, and we walk on it, and eventually the stain darkens. It seems to worsen with time. Stains never, ever clean themselves. Eventually somebody has to come with cleaning supplies, sit on the floor for an hour, and apply some elbow grease.

How appropriate that this happened in church. Stains happen, even in church.

When I left, both stains were still wet, and neither was free of bubbles. I could have scrubbed and wiped another hour.

"Jesus paid it all. All to Him I owe.

Sin had left a crimson stain.

He washed it white as snow."