Sunday, November 22, 2015
Foreward : The Alchemist
Foreword to 10th anniversary edition of The Alchemist
Ten Years On
I remember receiving a letter from the American publisher, Harper Collins, which said that: “reading The Alchemist was like getting up at dawn and seeing the sun rise while the rest of the world still slept.” I went outside, looked up at the sky and thought to myself: “So, the book is going to be published in English!” At the time, I was struggling to establish myself as a writer and to follow my path despite all the voices telling me it was impossible.
And little by little, my dream was becoming reality. Ten, a hundred, a thousand, a million copies sold in America. One day, a Brazilian journalist phoned to say that President Clinton had been photographed reading the book. Some time later, when I was in Turkey, I opened the magazine Vanity Fair and there was Julia Roberts declaring that she adored the book. Walking alone down a street in Miami, I heard a girl telling her mother: “You must read The Alchemist!”
The book has been translated into 67 languages, has sold more than 65 million copies, and people are beginning to ask: What’s the secret behind such a huge success?
The only honest response is: I don’t know. All I know is that, like Santiago the shepherd boy, we all need to be aware of our personal calling. What is a personal calling? It is God’s blessing, it is the path that God chose for you here on Earth. Whenever we do something that fills us with enthusiasm, we are following our legend. However, we don’t all have the courage to confront our own dream.
Why?
There are four obstacles. First: we are told from childhood onwards that everything we want to do is impossible. We grow up with this idea, and as the years accumulate, so too do the layers of prejudice, fear and guilt. There comes a time when our personal calling is so deeply buried in our soul as to be invisible. But it’s still there.
If we have the courage to disinter dream, we are then faced by the second obstacle: love. We know what we want to do, but are afraid of hurting those around us by abandoning everything in order to pursue their dream. We do not realize that love is just a further impetus, not something that will prevent them going forwards. We do not realize that those who genuinely wish us well want us to be happy and are prepared to accompany us on that journey.
Once we have accepted that love is a stimulus, we come up against the third obstacle: fear of the defeats we will meet on the path. We who fight for our dream, suffer far more when it doesn’t work out, because we cannot fall back on the old excuse: “Oh, well, I didn’t really want it anyway.” We do want it and know that we have staked everything on it and that the path of the personal calling is no easier than any other path, except that our whole heart is in this journey. Then, we warriors of light must be prepared to have patience in difficult times and to know that the Universe is conspiring in our favor, even though we may not understand how.
I ask myself: are defeats necessary?
Well, necessary or not, they happen. When we first begin fighting for our dream, we have no experience and make many mistakes. The secret of life, though, is to fall seven times and to get up eight times.
So, why is it so important to live our personal calling if we are only going to suffer more than other people?
Because, once we have overcome the defeats – and we always do – we are filled by a greater sense of euphoria and confidence. In the silence of our hearts, we know that we are proving ourselves worthy of the miracle of life. Each day, each hour, is part of the good fight. We start to live with enthusiasm and pleasure. Intense, unexpected suffering passes more quickly than suffering that is apparently bearable; the latter goes on for years and, without our noticing, eats away at our soul, until, one day, we are no longer able to free ourselves from the bitterness and it stays with us for the rest of our lives.
Having disinterred our dream, having used the power of love to nurture it and spent many years living with the scars, we suddenly notice that what we always wanted is there, waiting for us, perhaps the very next day. Then comes the fourth obstacle: the fear of realizing the dream for which we fought all our lives.
Oscar Wilde said: ‘each man kills the thing he loves’. And it’s true. The mere possibility of getting what we want fills the soul of the ordinary person with guilt. We look around at all those who have failed to get what they want and feel that we do not deserve to get what we want either. We forget about all the obstacles we overcame, all the suffering we endured, all the things we had to give up in order to get this far. I have known a lot of people who, when their personal calling was within their grasp, went on to commit a series of stupid mistakes and never reached their goal – when it was only a step away.
This is the most dangerous of the obstacles because it has a kind of saintly aura about it: renouncing joy and conquest. But if you believe yourself worthy of the thing you fought so hard to get, then you become an instrument of God, you help the Soul of the World and you understand why you are here.
Friday, November 20, 2015
Failing to be Perfect (Telos) by Dave Brubaker from Newsong Church
“If there is such a thing as human perfection, it seems to emerge precisely from how we handle the imperfection that is everywhere, especially our own. What a clever place for God to hide holiness, so that only the humble and earnest will find it! A ‘perfect’ person ends up being one who can consciously forgive and include imperfection rather than one who thinks he or she is totally above and beyond imperfection.”
-Richard Rohr, Falling Upward
“Be perfect, therefore, as your Heavenly Father is perfect.”
–Matthew 5:48
We sang a song on Sunday that made me think of that verse. In the bridge of "Good, Good Father" it says, “You are perfect in all of your ways to us.”
I think most of us would agree that’s true about God, but Matthew 5:48 says it should be true of us too. Instantly we can come up with all kinds of objections:
“I’m only human.” (so was Jesus)
“I’m supposed to live by the same standard as Jesus??” (that’s what the verse says)
“Sounds like one of those Old Testament type verses that don’t apply anymore.” (it’s in the New Testament)
“But Jesus is God!!!” (Yes, and we are His Body!!!)
“I don’t believe in religious perfectionism.” (neither does God)
“But how can I be perfect when I’m such a mess???” (that’s a good question)
Yes, we’re all a mess. But that’s what’s so crazy about the gospel: the thing I thought disqualified me is the reason I got picked. God takes messed up people like me and you and says: “Be perfect, like Me.”
More objections:
“But NOBODY’S PERFECT, right??? I definitely get the MESSY part but being perfect??? I thought the gospel was about GRACE.”
OK, OK, calm down, jeez!!! I never said the gospel’s not about grace. But I also don’t think we can just IGNORE the fact that Jesus said, “Be perfect like your Heavenly Father is perfect.” He didn’t say, “Try to be perfect” or “I know this is impossible but it sounds catchy, doesn’t it?” He said “Be perfect” like it was a perfectly reasonable thing to say.
Here’s where it might help to check the Greek (since he technically never said these words IN ENGLISH — maybe there’s a loophole!!!) The Greek word for “perfect” is teleios (which my computer tried to autocorrect to toeless — no Siri, I don't think Jesus is telling us to cut off our toes).
TELEIOS. As soon as I saw that word, I got excited – I once preached a whole sermon on the noun version of that word: Telos. In Greek philosophy it was understood that EVERYTHING HAS A TELOS, whether it’s a table or a spider or YOU. This is what Paul was talking about in Acts 20:24 – “I consider my life worth nothing unless I teleiōsai" – unless I finish the race, unless I complete the work, unless I fulfill the assignment that God gave me to do.”
I don’t know about you but that makes me very excited. It completely changes what it means to “Be perfect as my Heavenly Father is perfect." Instead of religious perfectionism, it’s saying: DO WHAT YOU WERE MADE TO DO, JUST LIKE YOUR DAD DOES.
What is that for you?
Stop letting who you’re not define who you are. Jesus said, "Follow me, and I’LL MAKE YOU fishers of men.” He’ll MAKE YOU — in his presence, YOU’LL BECOME that person, in his presence he’ll transform you into who you need to be to accomplish the work he’s called you to do.
PS I almost forgot the best/worst part, a point Mike Erre made from Matthew 16:21 – if you do this right, there's a good chance the world will view it as a huge failure.
"If any of you think you are wise by the standards of this age, you should become “fools” so that you may become wise."
So, what are we waiting for? Let’s go be PERFECT together.
Sunday, November 15, 2015
What We Can Learn From Matthrew About Faith and Anxiety
What We Can Learn From Matthew About Faith and Anxiety
Matthew 6: 25-34, 8: 23-27, 14: 13-33
1.
Why did Jesus
tell His disciples—you give them something to eat?
Jesus
wanted to test his disciples’ faith and make them appreciate the magnitude of
the challenge of feeding 5000+ people. Jesus had previously calmed the wind and
waves. Did the disciples believe that He had authority over everything? When the disciples responded
to Jesus’ request, they pointed out the limitations of their situation rather
than Jesus’ power. This is often what we
do!
2.
Three times in just a
few sentences Matthew uses the word immediately — always of Jesus. What does this say about Jesus?
a.
Jesus made the
disciples get into a boat and go on ahead of Him “immediately.”
i. Jesus is decisive. He had 5000+ people clamoring for
his help and probably adoring him over the miracle He just worked. But He knows
what to do and when, and he values quiet time with the Father. So rather than
reveling in the crowd’s adoration, He sends the crowd packing, tells the
disciples to take off in a boat, and goes up to a mountain to spend time in
prayer.
b.
When the disciples
thought they were seeing a ghost and cried out in fear, Jesus answered them
“immediately.”
i. Jesus is close to those who are afraid. He is compassionate
and will respond “immediately” if the situation calls for it. Jesus is the one
in danger—he’s the one walking on water in the middle of a lake!
c.
When Peter began to
sink and cried out for help, Jesus “immediately” reached out his hand and
caught him.
i. Again, Jesus demonstrates his compassion. He could’ve
let Peter duck in the water a little to discipline him over his lack of faith.
Peter was walking towards Jesus but never made it there. The fact that Jesus
was there “immediately” suggests that Jesus moved supernaturally quickly to get
to Peter. This is what He does to get to us.
Every
time Jesus calls a disciple to follow Him, the disciples “immediately” drop
everything and follow Him (Matthew 4). Every time Jesus heals, the miracle is
manifest “immediately” (Mark).
3.
Matthew tells us that
Jesus comes to the disciples “during the fourth watch of the night.” The Romans
divided the night into four shifts: 6:00–9:00; 9:00-midnight; midnight–3:00;
and 3:00–6:00. So Jesus came to the disciples sometime after 3 o’clock. The boat
was on the lake since the previous sunset. Why did Jesus only show up at the
fourth watch of the night?
The disciples’ boat is “a considerable distance from
land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it.” This is a rather
tense situation! The disciples had gone into the boat in the afternoon but by
dawn they still hadn’t crossed to the other side. This suggests that either the
lake is huge or that the wind is driving the disciples in the wrong direction.
The phrase “against it” suggests that the wind was driving the disciples in the
wrong direction and they couldn’t overcome it. No doubt they were feeling
anxious, alone and stranded.
It doesn’t say if Jesus expected to cross the lake in
a second boat. Even if He had a boat, the disciples probably weren’t expecting
to see Him. If they set out earlier but hadn’t made it across, they certainly
wouldn’t expect Jesus to catch up to them so quickly. But when the time is
right, Jesus will walk on water to get to us. He will show up when we least expect
it and He will do in a method that we least expect! Unlike the previous
times, Jesus didn’t respond “immediately.” He waited to test the disciples’
faith.
4.
What was Peter asking
when he said, “Lord, if
it is you, command me to come to
you on the water.” What does Peter’s request say about him? What would you
have asked for in that situation?
Peter’s response shows his doubt and faith
simultaneously. He addresses this “ghost” as “Lord” but follows up by saying, “if it is you.” He’s trying to take a
leap of faith that Jesus is who He says He is and that Jesus is walking on
water because He’s God’s Son. Peter is bold, eager, and adventurous. He wants
to imitate Christ despite the risks. He has faith that, on a word or command
from Jesus, he too can walk on water. His faith is very much like the Centurion
whom Jesus praised! In believing that Jesus can work miracles by word alone,
Peter and the Centurion are acknowledging that Jesus is the Son of God.
Notice that Peter doesn’t use his ability to walk on
water to go exploring about the lake. In other words, he doesn’t use this
ability frivolously. He uses this ability to go toward Jesus.
Peter doesn’t expect Jesus to come all the way. Jesus came out partway and
Peter went to meet Him there. The distance of water between Jesus and Peter is
the measure of Peter’s walk of faith. Many of us are like toddlers, learning to
walk in faith but often stumbling.
Personally (this might be what the other disciples
did), I would’ve asked Jesus to get into the boat before he drowns or catches a
chill and then I’d ask him to calm the waves for safe passage. I’d want to play
on the safe side of things. Peter didn’t just want to play on the safe side; he
asked God to help him do incredible things, and God answered his prayer!
5.
Why did Peter start
to sink?
“When he saw the wind, he was afraid.” I’d imagine
that, at first, his eyes were fixed on his destination, Jesus. Then maybe a
gust of wind or wave came and he got distracted. He sank because he kept his
eyes on the challenge and not on Jesus!
6.
Why did the
wind and waves cease only when Jesus and Peter got back in the boat? Why didn’t
Jesus calm the waves before?
Because of love! He wanted the disciples to grow in
faith!
How earnestly can you pray the lyrics to Oceans? When I was a new believer, I sang
this song super loudly in church. But a few years later, I’m much more serious
and contemplative about praying to “go deeper than my feet could ever wander.” Like
Peter, I often start off eager but am unable to complete the task I promised to
do (or at least, I’m unable to remain joyful about it).
This reminds me of the hobbits in The Lord of the Rings. Elrond said that
Merry and Pippin had no idea what they were getting themselves into. Gandalf
answered that if you told them, they might be too afraid to go but they’d feel
bad about being afraid; people will never be completely prepared; sometimes
when people dive into mysteries in faith, they’ll find unexpected strength to pull
through.
"Oceans (Where Feet May
Fail)"
You call me out upon the waters
The great unknown where feet may
fail
And there I find You in the mystery
In oceans deep
My faith will stand
And I will call upon Your name
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise
My soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mine
Your grace abounds in deepest
waters
Your sovereign hand
Will be my guide
Where feet may fail and fear
surrounds me
You've never failed and You won't
start now
And I will call upon Your name…
Spirit lead me where my trust is
without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could
ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior
Oh, Jesus, you're my God!
And I will call upon Your name…
Saturday, November 14, 2015
Psalm 23 by Dave Brubaker from Newsong Church
I’ve been thinking about Psalm 23 all week. It’s such a familiar passage, but I never get tired of it – all of life is captured right there in six verses. I love how as it goes along it switches from “he” to “you.” I wonder was that intentional, or was David’s relationship with God so intimate, his focus was just automatically/subconsciously drawn directly upward?
This morning one line in particular jumped out to me: "He guides me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.” I’ve never really thought about that; Psalm 23 always felt like such a blessing for us, but apparently there’s something in it for God too! It's cool to think this awesome way of living also blesses him right back.
The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
he restores my soul.
He guides me in the paths of righteousness
for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk
through the darkest valley,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
Surely your goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord
forever.
This morning one line in particular jumped out to me: "He guides me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.” I’ve never really thought about that; Psalm 23 always felt like such a blessing for us, but apparently there’s something in it for God too! It's cool to think this awesome way of living also blesses him right back.
The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
he restores my soul.
He guides me in the paths of righteousness
for his name’s sake.
Even though I walk
through the darkest valley,
I will fear no evil,
for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me
in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows.
Surely your goodness and love will follow me
all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord
forever.
Monday, November 9, 2015
Feeling Spiritually Dry by Matt Slick
Have you ever felt as though you couldn't hear the Lord's voice if He were next to you shouting your name? Have you been or are you now in a period of spiritual dryness? If you have had a spiritually dry time and are now past it, then praise God. If, however, you are in the midst of one, then maybe this can help you.
First of all, it isn't necessarily bad to be in a spiritually dry place unless it is because of sin. If we commit a sin that we know the Lord wants us to abandon, then He often withholds His fellowship from us. We sense a distance between the Lord and ourselves, and it hurts. Of course, this does not mean that the Lord is abandoning us, nor does it mean He does not love us. If anything, it is a demonstration of His love to let us feel broken fellowship since it moves us to repentance.
On the other hand, spiritual dryness can be a specific time that the Lord wants us to go through as a time of testing and of preparation. The Lord will allow us to be tested into order to refine our faith. Think about it. Do we stay Christians because of the feeling of fellowship we have with the Lord, or is it because we trust in Jesus, God in flesh (John 1:1, 14) as our Savior and Lord (Jude 4)? We are justified by faith (Rom. 5:1), and our assurance of salvation is found by faith, not by feeling. After all, "The just shall live by faith," (Hab. 2:4). Therefore, the Lord can use a spiritually dry time to cause us to examine what and who our faith is in so that we might rest assured in the cross and not in our feelings that can deceive us (Jer. 17:9).
Spiritual dryness can also be a time of preparation. Most every major person in the Bible that was used mightily of God had to go through a desert time. This includes Moses, Elijah, Jesus, and Paul. Being in a place where we are dry, waiting, wanting, praying, examining, etc., is often the proving ground of strength and refinement. Then, after this time is completed, the thing that we have been prepared for comes upon us. Sometimes this preparation is for hardship, sorrow, and pain. Other times it is for blessing, reward, and ministry. Remember, the Lord has not saved us to be trophies on a shelf. We are instruments in His hands to be used in the world. This usage requires that we be able to be used, able to be sent, able to trust the Lord in spite of what we see and feel--hence, the time of spiritual dryness that is a time of preparation.
What do you do in a time of spiritual dryness? First of all, you should ask the Lord to reveal any unconfessed sins of which you have not repented. If He reveals anything to you, then confess it as sin and repent of it even if it is a sin you have committed so many times before. Second, you must read your Word regularly. Third, you must pray regularly. And fourth, you must trust the Lord through this. You must look to Him and remember that He loves you greatly and will never forsake you. In this, your faith will be perfected, your character improved, your walk strengthened, and you will be prepared for the tasks ahead that the Lord has called you to encounter.
And finally, in the midst of your dryness, offer praise and thanksgiving to the Lord. Do not let your feelings rob you of the opportunity to praise and thank God even when the times are not so great. Remember, it is easy to praise God when things go well. But the true men and women of Christian character praise God through the trials as well.
First of all, it isn't necessarily bad to be in a spiritually dry place unless it is because of sin. If we commit a sin that we know the Lord wants us to abandon, then He often withholds His fellowship from us. We sense a distance between the Lord and ourselves, and it hurts. Of course, this does not mean that the Lord is abandoning us, nor does it mean He does not love us. If anything, it is a demonstration of His love to let us feel broken fellowship since it moves us to repentance.
On the other hand, spiritual dryness can be a specific time that the Lord wants us to go through as a time of testing and of preparation. The Lord will allow us to be tested into order to refine our faith. Think about it. Do we stay Christians because of the feeling of fellowship we have with the Lord, or is it because we trust in Jesus, God in flesh (John 1:1, 14) as our Savior and Lord (Jude 4)? We are justified by faith (Rom. 5:1), and our assurance of salvation is found by faith, not by feeling. After all, "The just shall live by faith," (Hab. 2:4). Therefore, the Lord can use a spiritually dry time to cause us to examine what and who our faith is in so that we might rest assured in the cross and not in our feelings that can deceive us (Jer. 17:9).
Spiritual dryness can also be a time of preparation. Most every major person in the Bible that was used mightily of God had to go through a desert time. This includes Moses, Elijah, Jesus, and Paul. Being in a place where we are dry, waiting, wanting, praying, examining, etc., is often the proving ground of strength and refinement. Then, after this time is completed, the thing that we have been prepared for comes upon us. Sometimes this preparation is for hardship, sorrow, and pain. Other times it is for blessing, reward, and ministry. Remember, the Lord has not saved us to be trophies on a shelf. We are instruments in His hands to be used in the world. This usage requires that we be able to be used, able to be sent, able to trust the Lord in spite of what we see and feel--hence, the time of spiritual dryness that is a time of preparation.
What do you do in a time of spiritual dryness? First of all, you should ask the Lord to reveal any unconfessed sins of which you have not repented. If He reveals anything to you, then confess it as sin and repent of it even if it is a sin you have committed so many times before. Second, you must read your Word regularly. Third, you must pray regularly. And fourth, you must trust the Lord through this. You must look to Him and remember that He loves you greatly and will never forsake you. In this, your faith will be perfected, your character improved, your walk strengthened, and you will be prepared for the tasks ahead that the Lord has called you to encounter.
And finally, in the midst of your dryness, offer praise and thanksgiving to the Lord. Do not let your feelings rob you of the opportunity to praise and thank God even when the times are not so great. Remember, it is easy to praise God when things go well. But the true men and women of Christian character praise God through the trials as well.
Saturday, November 7, 2015
The Dance of Grief and Gratitude by Bo Stern, from When Holidays Hurt
Enter His gates with thanksgiving and His courts with praise; give thanks to Him and praise His name. —Psalm 10:4 NIV
Deep in the heart of November, I received two e-mails from women who were each fighting fierce battles, one losing her husband to ALS, the other losing her husband to an addiction he seemed unable to control. Different stories with similar shades of emotional trauma. I thought about how in years past these wonderful women would have been planning Thanksgiving dinner and baking pies and creating a holiday to remember. This year, however, they both cast a wary eye toward the day. “I’m trying to be grateful,” one said carefully. “I really am.” I could hear the guilt crouching behind her words, and it frustrated me because I know her. I know she’s not just trying to be grateful; she is grateful. She is thankful for her amazing children, the beautiful marriage she shared with her husband for thirty years, and for the way their core group of friends surrounded them throughout his illness. She was deeply, dearly grateful, and yet, in the season of Thanksgiving, she felt that she wasn’t thankful enough. What gives?
Here’s my theory: we tend to expect gratitude to act as a sort of emotional acid, absorbing all sorrow on contact.
Because of this underlying idea, we can also project that idea on those around us, and that’s what had happened to my friend. The people who really, truly love her had run out of encouraging things to say and really wanted to enjoy Thanksgiving themselves, and so they resorted to advice like, “Just be grateful for what you have.” And she was trying. And I am trying. And you are trying.
But let’s be clear: sorrow is not sin, and gratitude does not cancel out grief.
Adoring her children does not eradicate the deep pain of losing her husband, and she needed — as we all need — permission to experience both joy and sorrow. When we stop viewing grief and gratitude as mutually exclusive emotions, we are well on our way to a healthier holiday, and I think Jesus told us this very thing in one little sentence that takes my breath away every time I read it:
Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. — Matthew 5:4
Bless. Mourn. Comfort. Three action words that seem at odds with one another at first glance but that, with a little synergy, form a strategy for enduring the happiest days in a season of heartache. A look at the original language shows us that we could lift the spiritually loaded word blessed up and out of that verse, drop in the word happy, and still be true to the meaning of the word. Happy are those who mourn? Ridiculous. It’s like saying, “Healthy are those who are sick,” or “Pregnant are those who are barren.” This concept makes no sense until we add the third word: comfort.
Happy are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
Comfort is also a beautiful Greek word parakaleo. It’s formed from two words: kaleo, which means “to call by name,” and para, which means “near.” This word pulls us right up into the lap of God and invites us to experience the beauty of His presence in a way we may never have experienced before.
The comfort of God is a bigger, more powerful thing than we give it credit for being. It’s in this uniquely “called by name” place that we are supernaturally strengthened, guided, and loved.
I remember the morning I took my husband to the hospital for surgery to have a feeding tube placed. Though we knew that ALS made him a high-risk patient, we were blindsided when the surgeon met us five minutes before the surgery and explained that his chances of coming out of the operating room on life support were very high and that we would then have to decide whether to continue that support or say good-bye. I’m not going to put a pretty face on this—we didn’t handle it gracefully. We wept and shook and fell into a hug on his hospital bed as we tried to figure out which way to go. Without a feeding tube, his remaining days would be very, very difficult, and the longer we waited to have it done, the more risky it became. And yet—Steve had not said good-byes to our kids. Our son had left for school that morning having no idea that he might not talk to his dad again. Every option seemed impossible, and I felt like the walls were caving in on my heart.
This little event is a tiny glimpse at our story and represents one of the most difficult moments in our fight with ALS, and yet it doesn’t compare to the very worst moments. The worst moments have been when I’ve wandered from God’s plan or purpose, when I have not been able to feel Him in my pain. This deep-water morning, though, was filled to the brim with the parakaleo of God. I could almost hear Him whispering my name as I wept into my husband’s neck. I could feel His arms closing in just when I thought my heart would die inside my chest. And then we both heard His clear instruction to wait. At the same moment, we looked at each other and turned to the surgeon and said, “Not today.” Comfort, love, guidance—it was all there in the middle of our sorrow because Jesus shows up when we suffer. He shows up, speaks our name, and reminds us it’s okay to be broken with Him.
For strength, we thank You; it blesses us. For weakness, we thank You; it builds us. When all is bright, we thank You. In deepest dark, we trust You. And our souls sing It. Is. Well. Now, to the One who is able to do immeasurably more than we could ask or imagine, endless, eternal thanks.
Deep in the heart of November, I received two e-mails from women who were each fighting fierce battles, one losing her husband to ALS, the other losing her husband to an addiction he seemed unable to control. Different stories with similar shades of emotional trauma. I thought about how in years past these wonderful women would have been planning Thanksgiving dinner and baking pies and creating a holiday to remember. This year, however, they both cast a wary eye toward the day. “I’m trying to be grateful,” one said carefully. “I really am.” I could hear the guilt crouching behind her words, and it frustrated me because I know her. I know she’s not just trying to be grateful; she is grateful. She is thankful for her amazing children, the beautiful marriage she shared with her husband for thirty years, and for the way their core group of friends surrounded them throughout his illness. She was deeply, dearly grateful, and yet, in the season of Thanksgiving, she felt that she wasn’t thankful enough. What gives?
Here’s my theory: we tend to expect gratitude to act as a sort of emotional acid, absorbing all sorrow on contact.
Because of this underlying idea, we can also project that idea on those around us, and that’s what had happened to my friend. The people who really, truly love her had run out of encouraging things to say and really wanted to enjoy Thanksgiving themselves, and so they resorted to advice like, “Just be grateful for what you have.” And she was trying. And I am trying. And you are trying.
But let’s be clear: sorrow is not sin, and gratitude does not cancel out grief.
Adoring her children does not eradicate the deep pain of losing her husband, and she needed — as we all need — permission to experience both joy and sorrow. When we stop viewing grief and gratitude as mutually exclusive emotions, we are well on our way to a healthier holiday, and I think Jesus told us this very thing in one little sentence that takes my breath away every time I read it:
Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. — Matthew 5:4
Bless. Mourn. Comfort. Three action words that seem at odds with one another at first glance but that, with a little synergy, form a strategy for enduring the happiest days in a season of heartache. A look at the original language shows us that we could lift the spiritually loaded word blessed up and out of that verse, drop in the word happy, and still be true to the meaning of the word. Happy are those who mourn? Ridiculous. It’s like saying, “Healthy are those who are sick,” or “Pregnant are those who are barren.” This concept makes no sense until we add the third word: comfort.
Happy are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
Comfort is also a beautiful Greek word parakaleo. It’s formed from two words: kaleo, which means “to call by name,” and para, which means “near.” This word pulls us right up into the lap of God and invites us to experience the beauty of His presence in a way we may never have experienced before.
The comfort of God is a bigger, more powerful thing than we give it credit for being. It’s in this uniquely “called by name” place that we are supernaturally strengthened, guided, and loved.
I remember the morning I took my husband to the hospital for surgery to have a feeding tube placed. Though we knew that ALS made him a high-risk patient, we were blindsided when the surgeon met us five minutes before the surgery and explained that his chances of coming out of the operating room on life support were very high and that we would then have to decide whether to continue that support or say good-bye. I’m not going to put a pretty face on this—we didn’t handle it gracefully. We wept and shook and fell into a hug on his hospital bed as we tried to figure out which way to go. Without a feeding tube, his remaining days would be very, very difficult, and the longer we waited to have it done, the more risky it became. And yet—Steve had not said good-byes to our kids. Our son had left for school that morning having no idea that he might not talk to his dad again. Every option seemed impossible, and I felt like the walls were caving in on my heart.
This little event is a tiny glimpse at our story and represents one of the most difficult moments in our fight with ALS, and yet it doesn’t compare to the very worst moments. The worst moments have been when I’ve wandered from God’s plan or purpose, when I have not been able to feel Him in my pain. This deep-water morning, though, was filled to the brim with the parakaleo of God. I could almost hear Him whispering my name as I wept into my husband’s neck. I could feel His arms closing in just when I thought my heart would die inside my chest. And then we both heard His clear instruction to wait. At the same moment, we looked at each other and turned to the surgeon and said, “Not today.” Comfort, love, guidance—it was all there in the middle of our sorrow because Jesus shows up when we suffer. He shows up, speaks our name, and reminds us it’s okay to be broken with Him.
Finding Hidden Hope
Make two columns on a sheet of paper, labeling one grief and one gratitude. List all the things in each column, being brutally honest with how you’re really feeling. Now write blessed, mourn, and comfort over the list, and ask Jesus to show you the ways He is working in every area of your life.For strength, we thank You; it blesses us. For weakness, we thank You; it builds us. When all is bright, we thank You. In deepest dark, we trust You. And our souls sing It. Is. Well. Now, to the One who is able to do immeasurably more than we could ask or imagine, endless, eternal thanks.
Enduring the Uncertainty of Dating by Paul Maxwell from Desiring God
Enduring the Uncertainty of Dating
When couples move past the awkward first-date phase of a relationship, many face a new and unsettling tension between strong romantic feelings and the reality that they are not yet married. They ask themselves, “What does a relationship look like with someone who is neither my spouse nor my fiancé?” How does one practice vulnerability without any security, any promises, any covenant? How does one react to anxiety in the relationship without always becoming defensive?How does one move forward in the uncertainty of dating in a right and good way without becoming a nervous wreck? The forward march of the heart in dating is like walking a tightrope — all daters perform, and dating feels de facto not by grace. Each of us is left with a basic question: How does the grace of Christ meet us in the midst of emotionally charged, often over-spiritualized, life-encompassing performance anxiety?
The Cause of Uncertainty
First, we must try to understand the anxiety of the uncertain. Why does exclusive dating so often leave us undone? The answer is very clear: There are a lot of chips on the table and with blind odds. The risk in dating is never higher than when sharing intimate, vulnerable, breakable pieces of ourselves — in appropriate ways and at appropriate time — without any certainty this will lead to marriage. We’re betting a portion of our heart, without knowing how they will respond. It can be terrifying.More than that, when sinful people are put in a place of danger, they’re more prone to play God. We are most prone to try and seize control of the situation — of hearts, of circumstances, or of emotions, all in self-defensive ways that are tragically self-defeating. We would rather eat “the bread of anxious toil” (Psalm 127:2) than trust the Lord is holding and guiding us. We feel like we have control over the outcome. In self-perpetuating irony, magnifying all of the uncertainty and anxiety, we just end up multiplying our own pain and destroying the relationship.
Indulging in anxiety in a dating relationship is like indulging in back-seat driving: It only makes everyone else more nervous and annoyed and doesn’t actually contribute anything positive. Yet, the experience is legitimate and real, and so is the fear. The cause of the feeling of uncertainty, to state the obvious and criticial, is that things are uncertain. God has made no promises. Circumstances are shifting shadows. To know how Jesus Christ is relevant to our situation in dating, we must first of all come to terms with the often avoided, but very obvious reality, that we are not safe in a relationship. Sinful humans, with all of our benefits, come with risks.
The Normality of Uncertainty
Affection and vulnerability with a lack of covenantal commitment is a tension that can end in a naturally explosive way — either in a breakup or marriage. The stakes are high on both sides, and the pressure and fear that invariably accompanies those stakes very likely will not be resolved in the dating process. Dating is an emotional complexity we were not intended to endure for long.“Uncertainty in dating is an unsustainable reality meant to lead you to depend on God.”Understanding that anxiety is a proper reaction to the unsettled angst of an unfulfilled and covenantally unprotected relationship is the best starting place. We can say a dating relationship is protected and settled and safe, but it isn’t — no matter what dating philosophy one adheres to, the emotional escalation of dating leads either to a breakup or a marriage.
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The Function of Uncertainty
There is only one honest thing to say when the weight of dating uncertainty weighs heavy: “We don’t know.” We must confess that, to the experience of besetting and anxious uncertainty in dating, there isn’t an answer or at least not a concrete and immediate answer. Maybe the whole point of dating — and the fact that Scripture says so little about it — is that we don’t know what we’re doing, we can’t do it well (alone), and it isn’t sustainable. If it made sense, or it was easy, or it wasn’t soul-splittingly uncomfortable, there would be no propulsion forward, towards marriage or otherwise. Uncertainty in dating propels us forward with purpose. It unsettles us. It shows us idols in our hearts. It makes us anxious. Uncertainty is the soil of the psalms (Psalm 38:17; 88:3).Uncertainty dangles us from our ankles and reveals all of the unspoken (and often ungrounded) expectations hanging loose in the pockets of our faith:
“God, I know this person is the one.”You don’t need to pretend you haven’t thought those things — like you haven’t wanted to say those things to God, to other Christians — like you haven’t preached those things over and over again to your own heart. I have. The uncertainty of dating peels back the floorboards of our presumptuous theologies — our crystallized ideas about what God should be doing for us — and shines the light on all the threats beneath the otherwise comfortable world we live in: “Those who once feasted on delicacies perish in the streets” (Lamentations 4:5). Uncertainty creates urgency and sobriety.
“I did everything right. Why isn’t this easier?”
“Are you punishing me for my sins in a previous relationship?”
“I thought you loved me. So why doesn’t he love me?”
“I was so sure that was your will and then it ended out of nowhere.”
The uncertainty of dating is a microcosm of the otherwise forgotten truth: Life is uncertain. Even the notion that life beyond dating has no uncertainties — marriage, kids, family — is a delusion. The risks are higher, the vulnerability deeper, and the losses greater. In dating, disappointment exists in the form of breaking up. In marriage and parenting, the disappointments and pains can be much more devastating, and sometimes even permanent.
Grace for the Uncertain
We need not be uncertain about everything in dating, though. God is not inactive, distant, disinterested in our relationships: “Like an eagle that stirs up its nest, that flutters over its young, spreading out its wings, catching them, bearing them on its pinions” (Deuteronomy 32:11). The same God says, “He who finds a wife finds a good thing and obtains favor from the Lord” (Proverbs 18:22) and, “He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” (Romans 8:32). Dating literature, for too long, has offered too many of the wrong guarantees, and too few of the relevant graces.I once heard someone pray, “We pray against a closed sky.” It may be easy for some to feel ignored in the abyss of uncertainty. We also live in an open world and feel threatened. Many attempts to resolve this tension result in a self-pandering theology. We are tempted to earn and secure love by our own power, and tempted to test others’ worthiness for our love. And yet we have a God who passionately endorses marriage as the norm for people, and is actively seeking to bless us. The uncertainty of dating highlights for us the immanent possibility of blessing and tragedy. That tension was not meant to be immediately resolved. It is an unsustainable (but not purposeless) relationship-form in the long term, meant to lead you to depend on a heavenly Father who cares for you, and promises to provide for you, regardless of your relationship status or prospects.
But uncertainty is a mercy, if we’re prepared to receive it — it reveals to us the tensions of life itself, especially when we can’t sit still long enough to listen. At times, that may be too hard for us. Life in the midst of “We do not know” (John 14:5) and “You know” (Psalm 139:4) can, at times, feel like we’re fastened to a torture rack — pulled between a big God and real life.
Jesus Christ knows the anxious heart of the uncertain dating Christian (Proverbs 21:1). And he does not judge: “He will tend his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms; he will carry them in his bosom, and gently lead those that are with young” (Isaiah 40:11).
Marriage: It Can Be As Good As You Decide by Craig Groeschel, From This Day Forward
Early in our marriage, Amy and I stumbled across a simple truth that’s made all the difference. In fact, because it’s so simple, it would be easy to underestimate just how powerful it can be in your life. Are you ready to hear our secret?
Here it is: we decided that our marriage will be as good as we decide it will be.
The same is true for you: your marriage is as good as you’ve decided it will be. We’re not any better than anybody else. Don’t think for a minute that just because we’re in ministry we don’t have problems. We have problems just like everybody else. We live in the same sin-filled world that you do. (Do you have any idea what six kids can do to a bathroom?) But we decided we would seek God together, praying together and striving to put God first. We decided we’d fight fair, always fighting toward resolution instead of toward winning, which leaves plenty of space for forgiveness and love. We decided we’d make time regularly to have fun, enjoying the gifts of marriage and friendship.
We decided to keep our hearts out of trouble and to stay pure, rejecting any poison that could hurt our marriage. And of course we decided not to give up, fighting without end for the marriage God wants us to have. I hope you noticed the key words in all of those things. There are only two of them: We. Decided.
You can too!
It has taken both of us working together as one. But everybody has to start somewhere. I know it’s especially hard if only one of you is trying at first.
But you have to keep going. You’re in this relationship together.
Even when it doesn’t feel like it, if you’re married, God has already made you one. It doesn’t matter how it feels.
Once God has made you one, you can’t be undone.
Even if you’re the only one committing right now, you decide. You decide what kind of marriage you’re going to have. Is it going to be a bad one? Or is it going to be a good one?
You decide. It can be just as good as you decide.
You may be in a marriage that doesn’t look like it will survive. You might even have experienced betrayal in your marriage; you were faithful to your spouse, but your spouse wasn’t faithful to you. And you know that adultery is grounds for divorce. While that’s absolutely true — and most people wouldn’t blame you for giving up after being betrayed — I want to remind you of another truth that’s just as powerful: while adultery is grounds for divorce, it’s also grounds for forgiveness.
To have the marriage that God wants you to have, I can promise you that both of you will have to do your share of forgiving. Even when forgiving may seem impossible to do, I’m thankful that all things are possible with God. All things. Even forgiving what seems unforgivable.
Especially forgiving what seems unforgivable.
And you will never be more like God than when you forgive.
I know you can’t do anything to change your spouse. But I also know you can change you.
You can do everything you can do to not give up.
You can put yourself in the proper place, surrendering fully to God, seeking him daily, and believing for a miracle from him. You can decide to never give up. You’re in a covenant, and not just with your spouse. You made a promise to God. So you hang in there and stay united, even when the enemy wants you to become untied. Marriage means persevering. It means never giving up on each other. It means never letting your fears that your marriage might not make it turn into words or actions that you’ll forever regret. It means never giving up on God’s ability to do the impossible. No matter where you and your spouse find yourselves right now, I want you to consider what it means for you to run the good race together.
Here it is: we decided that our marriage will be as good as we decide it will be.
The same is true for you: your marriage is as good as you’ve decided it will be. We’re not any better than anybody else. Don’t think for a minute that just because we’re in ministry we don’t have problems. We have problems just like everybody else. We live in the same sin-filled world that you do. (Do you have any idea what six kids can do to a bathroom?) But we decided we would seek God together, praying together and striving to put God first. We decided we’d fight fair, always fighting toward resolution instead of toward winning, which leaves plenty of space for forgiveness and love. We decided we’d make time regularly to have fun, enjoying the gifts of marriage and friendship.
We decided to keep our hearts out of trouble and to stay pure, rejecting any poison that could hurt our marriage. And of course we decided not to give up, fighting without end for the marriage God wants us to have. I hope you noticed the key words in all of those things. There are only two of them: We. Decided.
You can too!
It has taken both of us working together as one. But everybody has to start somewhere. I know it’s especially hard if only one of you is trying at first.
But you have to keep going. You’re in this relationship together.
Even when it doesn’t feel like it, if you’re married, God has already made you one. It doesn’t matter how it feels.
Once God has made you one, you can’t be undone.
Even if you’re the only one committing right now, you decide. You decide what kind of marriage you’re going to have. Is it going to be a bad one? Or is it going to be a good one?
You decide. It can be just as good as you decide.
You may be in a marriage that doesn’t look like it will survive. You might even have experienced betrayal in your marriage; you were faithful to your spouse, but your spouse wasn’t faithful to you. And you know that adultery is grounds for divorce. While that’s absolutely true — and most people wouldn’t blame you for giving up after being betrayed — I want to remind you of another truth that’s just as powerful: while adultery is grounds for divorce, it’s also grounds for forgiveness.
To have the marriage that God wants you to have, I can promise you that both of you will have to do your share of forgiving. Even when forgiving may seem impossible to do, I’m thankful that all things are possible with God. All things. Even forgiving what seems unforgivable.
Especially forgiving what seems unforgivable.
And you will never be more like God than when you forgive.
I know you can’t do anything to change your spouse. But I also know you can change you.
You can do everything you can do to not give up.
You can put yourself in the proper place, surrendering fully to God, seeking him daily, and believing for a miracle from him. You can decide to never give up. You’re in a covenant, and not just with your spouse. You made a promise to God. So you hang in there and stay united, even when the enemy wants you to become untied. Marriage means persevering. It means never giving up on each other. It means never letting your fears that your marriage might not make it turn into words or actions that you’ll forever regret. It means never giving up on God’s ability to do the impossible. No matter where you and your spouse find yourselves right now, I want you to consider what it means for you to run the good race together.
Tuesday, November 3, 2015
The Weight of Glory by C.S. Lewis
If we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.
There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations - these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit - immortal horrors or everlasting splendors. This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously - no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption.
How God the Father Initiates a Man by John Eldredge, from Wild at Heart
Desperate for Initiation
A man needs to know his name. He needs to know he’s got what it takes.
And I don’t mean “know” in the modernistic, rationalistic sense. I don’t mean that the thought has passed through your cerebral cortex and you’ve given it intellectual assent, the way you know about the Battle of Waterloo or the ozone layer — the way most men “know” God or the truths of Christianity.
I mean a deep knowing, the kind of knowing that comes when you have been there, entered in, experienced firsthand in an unforgettable way. The way “Adam knew his wife” and she gave birth to a child. Adam didn’t know about Eve; he knew her intimately, through flesh-and-blood experience at a very deep level. There’s knowledge about and knowledge of. When it comes to our question, we need the latter.
In the movie Gladiator, set in the second century A.D., the hero is a warrior from Spain called Maximus. He is the commander of the Roman armies, a general loved by his men and by the aging emperor Marcus Aurelius. The emperor’s foul son Commodus learns of his father’s plan to make Maximus emperor in his place, but before Marcus can pronounce his successor, Commodus strangles his father. He sentences Maximus to immediate execution and his wife and son to crucifixion and burning. Maximus escapes, but too late to save his family.
Captured by slave traders, he is sold as a gladiator. That fate is normally a death sentence, but this is Maximus, a valiant fighter. He more than survives; he becomes a champion. Ultimately he is taken to Rome to perform in the Colosseum before the emperor Commodus (who of course believes that Maximus is long dead). After a remarkable display of courage and a stunning upset, the emperor comes down into the arena to meet the valiant gladiator, whose identity remains hidden behind his helmet.
COMMODUS: Your fame is well deserved, Spaniard. I don’t believe there’s ever been a gladiator that matched you... Why doesn’t the hero reveal himself and tell us all your real name? (Maximus is silent.) You do have a name?
MAXIMUS: My name is Gladiator. (He turns and walks away.)
COMMODUS: How dare you show your back to me?! Slave! You will remove your helmet and tell me your name.
MAXIMUS: (Slowly, very slowly, he lifts his helmet and turns to face his enemy.) My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius; Commander of the Armies of the North; General of the Felix Legions; loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius; father to a murdered son; husband to a murdered wife; and I will have my vengeance, in this life or in the next.
His answer builds like a mighty wave, swelling in size and strength before it crashes on the shore. The man knows who he is, what he’s made of.
Where does a man go to learn an answer like that — to learn his true name, a name that can never be taken from him? That deep heart knowledge comes only through a process of initiation. You have to know where you’ve come from; you have to have faced a series of trials that test you; you have to have taken a journey; and you have to have faced your enemy.
But as a young man recently lamented to me, “I’ve been a Christian since I was five — no one ever showed me what it means to really be a man.” He’s lost now. He moved across the country to be with his girlfriend, but she’s dumped him because he doesn’t know who he is and what he’s here for. There are countless others like him, a world of such men — a world of uninitiated men.
The church would like to think it is initiating men, but it’s not. What does the church bring a man into? What does it call him out to be? Moral. That is pitifully insufficient. Morality is a good thing, but morality is never the point. Paul says the Law is given as a tutor to the child, but not to the son. The son is invited up into something much more. He gets the keys to the car; he gets to go away with the father on some dangerous mission.
Where do we go? To whom can we turn? To a most surprising source.
How God Initiates a Man
A number of years ago, at a point in my own journey when I felt more lost than ever, I heard a talk given by Gordon Dalbey, who had just written Healing the Masculine Soul. He raised the idea that despite a man’s past and the failures of his own father to initiate him, God could take him on that journey, provide what was missing. A hope rose within me, but I dismissed it with the cynicism I’d learned to use to keep down most things in my soul.
Several weeks, perhaps months later, I was downstairs in the early morning to read and pray. As with so many of my “quiet times,” I ended up looking out the window toward the east to watch the sun rise.
I heard Jesus whisper a question to me: “Will you let Me initiate you?” Before my mind ever had a chance to process, dissect, and doubt the whole exchange, my heart leaped up and said yes.
“Who can give a man this, his own name?” George MacDonald asks. “God alone. For no one but God sees what the man is.” He reflects upon the white stone that Revelation includes among the rewards God will give to those who “overcome.” On that white stone there is a new name. It is “new” only in the sense that it is not the name the world gave to us, certainly not the one delivered with the wound. No man will find on that stone “mama’s boy” or “fatty” or “seagull.”
But the new name is really not new at all when you understand that it is your true name, the one that belongs to you, “that being whom He had in His thought when He began to make the child, and whom He kept in His thought throughout the long process of creation” and redemption. Psalm 139 makes it clear that we were personally, uniquely planned and created, knit together in our mother’s womb by God Himself.
He had someone in mind and that someone has a name.
That someone has also undergone a terrible assault. Yet God remains committed to the realization of that same someone. The giving of the white stone makes it clear — that is what He is up to.
The history of a man’s relationship with God is the story of how God calls him out, takes him on a journey and gives him his true name. Most of us have thought it was the story of how God sits on His throne waiting to whack a man broadside when he steps out of line. Not so. He created Adam for adventure, battle, and beauty; He created us for a unique place in His story and He is committed to bringing us back to the original design.
So God calls Abram out from Ur of the Chaldees to a land he has never seen, to the frontier, and along the way Abram gets a new name. He becomes Abraham. God takes Jacob off into Mesopotamia somewhere, to learn things he has to learn and cannot learn at his mother’s side. When he rides back into town, he has a limp and a new name as well.
Even if your father did his job, he can only take you partway.
There comes a time when you have to leave all that is familiar, and go on into the unknown with God. Saul was a guy who really thought he understood the story and very much liked the part he had written for himself. He was the hero of his own little miniseries, “Saul the Avenger.” After that little matter on the Damascus road he becomes Paul; and rather than heading back into all of the old and familiar ways he is led out into Arabia for three years to learn directly from God.
Jesus shows us that initiation can happen even when we’ve lost our father or grandfather.
He’s the carpenter’s son, which means Joseph was able to help him in the early days of his journey. But when we meet the young man Jesus, Joseph is out of the picture. Jesus has a new teacher — his true Father — and it is from Him He must learn who he really is and what he’s really made of.
Initiation involves a journey and a series of tests, through which we discover our real name and our true place in the story.
Most of us have been misinterpreting life and what God is doing for a long time.
“I think I’m just trying to get God to make my life work easier,” a client of mine confessed, but he could have been speaking for most of us. We’re asking the wrong questions. Most of us are asking, “God, why did you let this happen to me?” Or, “God, why won’t you just...” (fill in the blank — help me succeed, get my kids to straighten out, fix my marriage — you know what you’ve been whining about).
But to enter into a journey of initiation with God requires a new set of questions:
What are You trying to teach me here? What issues in my heart are You trying to raise through this?
What is it You want me to see? What are You asking me to let go of?
A man needs to know his name. He needs to know he’s got what it takes.
And I don’t mean “know” in the modernistic, rationalistic sense. I don’t mean that the thought has passed through your cerebral cortex and you’ve given it intellectual assent, the way you know about the Battle of Waterloo or the ozone layer — the way most men “know” God or the truths of Christianity.
I mean a deep knowing, the kind of knowing that comes when you have been there, entered in, experienced firsthand in an unforgettable way. The way “Adam knew his wife” and she gave birth to a child. Adam didn’t know about Eve; he knew her intimately, through flesh-and-blood experience at a very deep level. There’s knowledge about and knowledge of. When it comes to our question, we need the latter.
In the movie Gladiator, set in the second century A.D., the hero is a warrior from Spain called Maximus. He is the commander of the Roman armies, a general loved by his men and by the aging emperor Marcus Aurelius. The emperor’s foul son Commodus learns of his father’s plan to make Maximus emperor in his place, but before Marcus can pronounce his successor, Commodus strangles his father. He sentences Maximus to immediate execution and his wife and son to crucifixion and burning. Maximus escapes, but too late to save his family.
Captured by slave traders, he is sold as a gladiator. That fate is normally a death sentence, but this is Maximus, a valiant fighter. He more than survives; he becomes a champion. Ultimately he is taken to Rome to perform in the Colosseum before the emperor Commodus (who of course believes that Maximus is long dead). After a remarkable display of courage and a stunning upset, the emperor comes down into the arena to meet the valiant gladiator, whose identity remains hidden behind his helmet.
COMMODUS: Your fame is well deserved, Spaniard. I don’t believe there’s ever been a gladiator that matched you... Why doesn’t the hero reveal himself and tell us all your real name? (Maximus is silent.) You do have a name?
MAXIMUS: My name is Gladiator. (He turns and walks away.)
COMMODUS: How dare you show your back to me?! Slave! You will remove your helmet and tell me your name.
MAXIMUS: (Slowly, very slowly, he lifts his helmet and turns to face his enemy.) My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius; Commander of the Armies of the North; General of the Felix Legions; loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius; father to a murdered son; husband to a murdered wife; and I will have my vengeance, in this life or in the next.
His answer builds like a mighty wave, swelling in size and strength before it crashes on the shore. The man knows who he is, what he’s made of.
Where does a man go to learn an answer like that — to learn his true name, a name that can never be taken from him? That deep heart knowledge comes only through a process of initiation. You have to know where you’ve come from; you have to have faced a series of trials that test you; you have to have taken a journey; and you have to have faced your enemy.
But as a young man recently lamented to me, “I’ve been a Christian since I was five — no one ever showed me what it means to really be a man.” He’s lost now. He moved across the country to be with his girlfriend, but she’s dumped him because he doesn’t know who he is and what he’s here for. There are countless others like him, a world of such men — a world of uninitiated men.
The church would like to think it is initiating men, but it’s not. What does the church bring a man into? What does it call him out to be? Moral. That is pitifully insufficient. Morality is a good thing, but morality is never the point. Paul says the Law is given as a tutor to the child, but not to the son. The son is invited up into something much more. He gets the keys to the car; he gets to go away with the father on some dangerous mission.
Where do we go? To whom can we turn? To a most surprising source.
How God Initiates a Man
A number of years ago, at a point in my own journey when I felt more lost than ever, I heard a talk given by Gordon Dalbey, who had just written Healing the Masculine Soul. He raised the idea that despite a man’s past and the failures of his own father to initiate him, God could take him on that journey, provide what was missing. A hope rose within me, but I dismissed it with the cynicism I’d learned to use to keep down most things in my soul.
Several weeks, perhaps months later, I was downstairs in the early morning to read and pray. As with so many of my “quiet times,” I ended up looking out the window toward the east to watch the sun rise.
I heard Jesus whisper a question to me: “Will you let Me initiate you?” Before my mind ever had a chance to process, dissect, and doubt the whole exchange, my heart leaped up and said yes.
“Who can give a man this, his own name?” George MacDonald asks. “God alone. For no one but God sees what the man is.” He reflects upon the white stone that Revelation includes among the rewards God will give to those who “overcome.” On that white stone there is a new name. It is “new” only in the sense that it is not the name the world gave to us, certainly not the one delivered with the wound. No man will find on that stone “mama’s boy” or “fatty” or “seagull.”
But the new name is really not new at all when you understand that it is your true name, the one that belongs to you, “that being whom He had in His thought when He began to make the child, and whom He kept in His thought throughout the long process of creation” and redemption. Psalm 139 makes it clear that we were personally, uniquely planned and created, knit together in our mother’s womb by God Himself.
He had someone in mind and that someone has a name.
That someone has also undergone a terrible assault. Yet God remains committed to the realization of that same someone. The giving of the white stone makes it clear — that is what He is up to.
The history of a man’s relationship with God is the story of how God calls him out, takes him on a journey and gives him his true name. Most of us have thought it was the story of how God sits on His throne waiting to whack a man broadside when he steps out of line. Not so. He created Adam for adventure, battle, and beauty; He created us for a unique place in His story and He is committed to bringing us back to the original design.
So God calls Abram out from Ur of the Chaldees to a land he has never seen, to the frontier, and along the way Abram gets a new name. He becomes Abraham. God takes Jacob off into Mesopotamia somewhere, to learn things he has to learn and cannot learn at his mother’s side. When he rides back into town, he has a limp and a new name as well.
Even if your father did his job, he can only take you partway.
There comes a time when you have to leave all that is familiar, and go on into the unknown with God. Saul was a guy who really thought he understood the story and very much liked the part he had written for himself. He was the hero of his own little miniseries, “Saul the Avenger.” After that little matter on the Damascus road he becomes Paul; and rather than heading back into all of the old and familiar ways he is led out into Arabia for three years to learn directly from God.
Jesus shows us that initiation can happen even when we’ve lost our father or grandfather.
He’s the carpenter’s son, which means Joseph was able to help him in the early days of his journey. But when we meet the young man Jesus, Joseph is out of the picture. Jesus has a new teacher — his true Father — and it is from Him He must learn who he really is and what he’s really made of.
Initiation involves a journey and a series of tests, through which we discover our real name and our true place in the story.
Most of us have been misinterpreting life and what God is doing for a long time.
“I think I’m just trying to get God to make my life work easier,” a client of mine confessed, but he could have been speaking for most of us. We’re asking the wrong questions. Most of us are asking, “God, why did you let this happen to me?” Or, “God, why won’t you just...” (fill in the blank — help me succeed, get my kids to straighten out, fix my marriage — you know what you’ve been whining about).
But to enter into a journey of initiation with God requires a new set of questions:
What are You trying to teach me here? What issues in my heart are You trying to raise through this?
What is it You want me to see? What are You asking me to let go of?
Learning to Wait by John Ortberg, from If You Want to Walk on Water, You've Got to Get Out of the Boat
When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. — Matthew 14:32
Waiting is the hardest work of hope. ~ Lewis Smedes
Waiting patiently is not a strong suit in American society.
A woman’s car stalls in traffic. She looks in vain under the hood to identify the cause, while the driver behind her leans relentlessly on his horn. Finally she has had enough. She walks back to his car and offers sweetly, “I don’t know what the matter is with my car. But if you want to go look under the hood, I’ll be glad to stay here and honk for you.”
We are not a patient people. We tend to be in a horn-honking, microwaving, Fed-Ex mailing, fast-food eating, express-lane shopping hurry. People don’t like to wait in traffic, on the phone, in the store, or at the post office.
Robert Levine, in a wonderful book called A Geography of Time, suggests the creation of a new unit of time called the honko-second — “the time between when the light changes and the person behind you honks his horn.” He claims it is the smallest measure of time known to science.
Most of us do not like waiting very much, so we like the fact that Matthew shows Jesus to be the Lord of urgent action. Three times in just a few sentences Matthew uses the word immediately — always of Jesus: Jesus made the disciples get into a boat and go on ahead of Him “immediately.”
When the disciples thought they were seeing a ghost and cried out in fear, Jesus answered them “immediately.” When Peter began to sink and cried out for help, Jesus “immediately” reached out his hand and caught him.
Jesus’ actions are swift, discerning, and decisive. He doesn’t waste a honko-second. And yet, this is also a story about waiting. Matthew tells us that Jesus comes to the disciples “during the fourth watch of the night.”
The Romans divided the night into four shifts: 6:00–9:00; 9:00-midnight; midnight–3:00; and 3:00–6:00. So Jesus came to the disciples sometime after 3 o’clock. But they had been in the boat since before sundown the previous day. Why the long delay? If I were one of the disciples, I think I would prefer Jesus to show up at the same time or even slightly ahead of the storm. I’d like Him there in a honko-second.
But Matthew has good reasons for noting the time. A. E. J. Rawlinson notes that early Christians suffering their own storm of persecution may have taken great comfort in this delay:
Faint hearts may even have begun to wonder whether the Lord Himself had not abandoned them to their fate, or to doubt the reality of Christ. They are to learn from this story that they are not forsaken, that the Lord watches over them unseen… [that] the Living One, Master of wind and waves, will surely come quickly for their salvation, even though it be in the “fourth watch of the night.”
Matthew wanted his readers to learn to wait.
Another moment of waiting involves Peter’s decision to leave the boat. He cannot do this on the strength of his own impulse; he must ask Jesus’ permission first, then wait for an answer — for the light to turn green. I wonder if another type of waiting was involved for Peter. What do you suppose his very first steps on the water looked like? I expect that Jesus was an accomplished water-walker. But for Peter, I wonder if there wasn’t a learning curve involved. Maybe, like the Bill Murray character in the movie What About Bob?, he had to start with baby steps.
Learning to walk always requires patience.
It was not until the whole episode was over that the disciples got what they wanted — “the wind died down.” Why couldn’t Jesus have made the wind die down “immediately” — as soon as He saw the disciples’ fear? It would have made Peter’s walk easier. But apparently Jesus felt they would gain something by waiting.
Consider the activity that Peter and the other disciples had to engage in right up to the very end: waiting.
Let’s say you decide to get out of the boat. You trust God. You take a step of faith — you courageously choose to leave a comfortable job to devote yourself to God’s calling; you will use a gift you believe God has given you even though you are scared to death; you will take relational risks even though you hate rejection; you will go back to school even though people tell you it makes no sense financially; you decide to trust God and get out of the boat. What happens next?
Well, maybe you will experience a tremendous, nonstop rush of excitement. Maybe there will be an immediate confirmation of your decision — circumstances will click, every risk will pay off, your efforts will be crowned with success, your spiritual life will thrive, your faith will double, and your friends will marvel, all in the space of a honko-second. Maybe. But not always. For good reasons, God does not always move at our frantic pace. We are too often double espresso followers of a decaf Sovereign.
Some forms of waiting — on expressways and in doctor’s offices — are fairly trivial in the overall scheme of things. But there are more serious and difficult kinds of waiting:
-The waiting of a single person who hopes God might have marriage in store but is beginning to despair
-The waiting of a childless couple who desperately want to start a family
-The waiting of Nelson Mandela as he sits in a prison cell for twenty-seven years and wonders if he will ever be free or if his country will ever know justice
-The waiting of someone who longs to have work that is meaningful and significant and yet cannot seem to find it
-The waiting of a deeply depressed person for a morning when she will wake up wanting to live
-The waiting of a child who feels awkward and clumsy and longs for the day when he gets picked first on the playground
-The waiting of persons of color for the day when everyone’s children will be judged “not by the color of their skin but by the content of their character”
-The waiting of an elderly senior citizen in a nursing home — alone, seriously ill, just waiting to die
Every one of us, at some junctures of our lives, will have to learn to wait.
Waiting may be the hardest single thing we are called to do. So it is frustrating when we turn to the Bible and find that God Himself, who is all-powerful and all-wise, keeps saying to his people, Wait.
Be still before the LORD, and wait patiently for Him… Wait for the LORD, and keep to His way, and He will exalt you to inherit the land.
God comes to Abraham when he is seventy-five and tells him he is going to be a father, the ancestor of a great nation. How long was it before that promise was fulfilled? Twenty-four years. Abraham had to wait.
God told the Israelites that they would leave their slavery in Egypt and become a nation. But the people had to wait four hundred years.
God told Moses he would lead the people to the Promised Land. But they had to wait forty years in the wilderness.
In the Bible, waiting is so closely associated with faith that sometimes the two words are used interchangeably. The great promise of the Old Testament was that a Messiah would come. But Israel had to wait — generation after generation, century after century. And when the Messiah came, He was recognized only by those who had their eyes fixed on his coming — like Simeon. He was an old man who “was righteous and devout. He was waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him.”
But even the arrival of Jesus did not mean that the waiting was over. Jesus lived, taught, was crucified, was resurrected, and was about to ascend when His friends asked Him, “Lord, will you restore the kingdom now?” That is, “Can we stop waiting?”
And Jesus had one more command:
Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised.
And the Holy Spirit came — but that still did not mean that the time of waiting was over.
Paul wrote,
We ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.
Forty-three times in the Old Testament alone, the people are commanded,
Wait. Wait on the LORD.
The last words in the Bible are about waiting:
The one who testifies to these things says, ‘Surely I am coming soon.’
It may not seem like it, but in light of eternity, it is soon. Hang on. “Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!” All right, we’ll hang on. But come! We’re waiting for You.
Why? Why does God make us wait? If He can do anything, why doesn’t He bring us relief and help and answers now?
At least in part, to paraphrase Ben Patterson, what God does in us while we wait is as important as what it is we are waiting for.
Waiting is the hardest work of hope. ~ Lewis Smedes
Waiting patiently is not a strong suit in American society.
A woman’s car stalls in traffic. She looks in vain under the hood to identify the cause, while the driver behind her leans relentlessly on his horn. Finally she has had enough. She walks back to his car and offers sweetly, “I don’t know what the matter is with my car. But if you want to go look under the hood, I’ll be glad to stay here and honk for you.”
We are not a patient people. We tend to be in a horn-honking, microwaving, Fed-Ex mailing, fast-food eating, express-lane shopping hurry. People don’t like to wait in traffic, on the phone, in the store, or at the post office.
Robert Levine, in a wonderful book called A Geography of Time, suggests the creation of a new unit of time called the honko-second — “the time between when the light changes and the person behind you honks his horn.” He claims it is the smallest measure of time known to science.
Most of us do not like waiting very much, so we like the fact that Matthew shows Jesus to be the Lord of urgent action. Three times in just a few sentences Matthew uses the word immediately — always of Jesus: Jesus made the disciples get into a boat and go on ahead of Him “immediately.”
When the disciples thought they were seeing a ghost and cried out in fear, Jesus answered them “immediately.” When Peter began to sink and cried out for help, Jesus “immediately” reached out his hand and caught him.
Jesus’ actions are swift, discerning, and decisive. He doesn’t waste a honko-second. And yet, this is also a story about waiting. Matthew tells us that Jesus comes to the disciples “during the fourth watch of the night.”
The Romans divided the night into four shifts: 6:00–9:00; 9:00-midnight; midnight–3:00; and 3:00–6:00. So Jesus came to the disciples sometime after 3 o’clock. But they had been in the boat since before sundown the previous day. Why the long delay? If I were one of the disciples, I think I would prefer Jesus to show up at the same time or even slightly ahead of the storm. I’d like Him there in a honko-second.
But Matthew has good reasons for noting the time. A. E. J. Rawlinson notes that early Christians suffering their own storm of persecution may have taken great comfort in this delay:
Faint hearts may even have begun to wonder whether the Lord Himself had not abandoned them to their fate, or to doubt the reality of Christ. They are to learn from this story that they are not forsaken, that the Lord watches over them unseen… [that] the Living One, Master of wind and waves, will surely come quickly for their salvation, even though it be in the “fourth watch of the night.”
Matthew wanted his readers to learn to wait.
Another moment of waiting involves Peter’s decision to leave the boat. He cannot do this on the strength of his own impulse; he must ask Jesus’ permission first, then wait for an answer — for the light to turn green. I wonder if another type of waiting was involved for Peter. What do you suppose his very first steps on the water looked like? I expect that Jesus was an accomplished water-walker. But for Peter, I wonder if there wasn’t a learning curve involved. Maybe, like the Bill Murray character in the movie What About Bob?, he had to start with baby steps.
Learning to walk always requires patience.
It was not until the whole episode was over that the disciples got what they wanted — “the wind died down.” Why couldn’t Jesus have made the wind die down “immediately” — as soon as He saw the disciples’ fear? It would have made Peter’s walk easier. But apparently Jesus felt they would gain something by waiting.
Consider the activity that Peter and the other disciples had to engage in right up to the very end: waiting.
Let’s say you decide to get out of the boat. You trust God. You take a step of faith — you courageously choose to leave a comfortable job to devote yourself to God’s calling; you will use a gift you believe God has given you even though you are scared to death; you will take relational risks even though you hate rejection; you will go back to school even though people tell you it makes no sense financially; you decide to trust God and get out of the boat. What happens next?
Well, maybe you will experience a tremendous, nonstop rush of excitement. Maybe there will be an immediate confirmation of your decision — circumstances will click, every risk will pay off, your efforts will be crowned with success, your spiritual life will thrive, your faith will double, and your friends will marvel, all in the space of a honko-second. Maybe. But not always. For good reasons, God does not always move at our frantic pace. We are too often double espresso followers of a decaf Sovereign.
Some forms of waiting — on expressways and in doctor’s offices — are fairly trivial in the overall scheme of things. But there are more serious and difficult kinds of waiting:
-The waiting of a single person who hopes God might have marriage in store but is beginning to despair
-The waiting of a childless couple who desperately want to start a family
-The waiting of Nelson Mandela as he sits in a prison cell for twenty-seven years and wonders if he will ever be free or if his country will ever know justice
-The waiting of someone who longs to have work that is meaningful and significant and yet cannot seem to find it
-The waiting of a deeply depressed person for a morning when she will wake up wanting to live
-The waiting of a child who feels awkward and clumsy and longs for the day when he gets picked first on the playground
-The waiting of persons of color for the day when everyone’s children will be judged “not by the color of their skin but by the content of their character”
-The waiting of an elderly senior citizen in a nursing home — alone, seriously ill, just waiting to die
Every one of us, at some junctures of our lives, will have to learn to wait.
Waiting may be the hardest single thing we are called to do. So it is frustrating when we turn to the Bible and find that God Himself, who is all-powerful and all-wise, keeps saying to his people, Wait.
Be still before the LORD, and wait patiently for Him… Wait for the LORD, and keep to His way, and He will exalt you to inherit the land.
God comes to Abraham when he is seventy-five and tells him he is going to be a father, the ancestor of a great nation. How long was it before that promise was fulfilled? Twenty-four years. Abraham had to wait.
God told the Israelites that they would leave their slavery in Egypt and become a nation. But the people had to wait four hundred years.
God told Moses he would lead the people to the Promised Land. But they had to wait forty years in the wilderness.
In the Bible, waiting is so closely associated with faith that sometimes the two words are used interchangeably. The great promise of the Old Testament was that a Messiah would come. But Israel had to wait — generation after generation, century after century. And when the Messiah came, He was recognized only by those who had their eyes fixed on his coming — like Simeon. He was an old man who “was righteous and devout. He was waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him.”
But even the arrival of Jesus did not mean that the waiting was over. Jesus lived, taught, was crucified, was resurrected, and was about to ascend when His friends asked Him, “Lord, will you restore the kingdom now?” That is, “Can we stop waiting?”
And Jesus had one more command:
Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised.
And the Holy Spirit came — but that still did not mean that the time of waiting was over.
Paul wrote,
We ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.
Forty-three times in the Old Testament alone, the people are commanded,
Wait. Wait on the LORD.
The last words in the Bible are about waiting:
The one who testifies to these things says, ‘Surely I am coming soon.’
It may not seem like it, but in light of eternity, it is soon. Hang on. “Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!” All right, we’ll hang on. But come! We’re waiting for You.
Why? Why does God make us wait? If He can do anything, why doesn’t He bring us relief and help and answers now?
At least in part, to paraphrase Ben Patterson, what God does in us while we wait is as important as what it is we are waiting for.
A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes by Dave Brubaker from Newsong Church
My daughter Lily sings her prayers.
It started in kindergarten, she sang “A Dream is a Wish” for her school talent show. That night at bedtime we talked about how that song is like a prayer. So for prayers that night, she sang it again:
“A dream is a wish your heart makes
When you're fast asleep
In dreams you will lose your heartache
Whatever you wish for you keep
Have faith in your dreams and someday
Your rainbow will come smiling through
No matter how your heart is grieving
If you keep on believing
The dream that you wish will come true.”
If that doesn't sound theologically correct, check out Proverbs 13:12 (The Voice version):
"Hope postponed grieves the heart;
but when a dream comes true, life is full and sweet.”
So often we quote the first part of that verse (“Hope deferred makes the heart sick”) but forget all about the happy ending!!
It started in kindergarten, she sang “A Dream is a Wish” for her school talent show. That night at bedtime we talked about how that song is like a prayer. So for prayers that night, she sang it again:
“A dream is a wish your heart makes
When you're fast asleep
In dreams you will lose your heartache
Whatever you wish for you keep
Have faith in your dreams and someday
Your rainbow will come smiling through
No matter how your heart is grieving
If you keep on believing
The dream that you wish will come true.”
If that doesn't sound theologically correct, check out Proverbs 13:12 (The Voice version):
"Hope postponed grieves the heart;
but when a dream comes true, life is full and sweet.”
So often we quote the first part of that verse (“Hope deferred makes the heart sick”) but forget all about the happy ending!!
Devotion Thoughts
Sometimes I have loved the peacefulness of an ordinary Sunday. It is
like standing in a newly planted garden after a warm rain. You can feel
the silent and invisible life. All it needs from you is that you take care not to trample on it.
Marilynne Robinson, Gilead
My faith tells me that God shared poverty, suffering, and death with human beings, which can only mean that such things are full of dignity and meaning, even though to believe this makes a great demand on one's faith, and to act as if this were true in any way we understand is to be ridiculous. It is ridiculous also to act as if it were not absolutely and essentially true all the same. Even though we are to do everything we can to put an end to poverty and suffering.
Marilynne Robinson, Lila
Why did God create man and man rather than woman and woman to be together? Our different relational roles are modeled after the trinity. It's so comfortable and effortless to be with those of the same gender. We have the same communication style, the same concerns. It's only when we come together with those who are so different from us that we are greatly challenged to practice perspective-taking and self-sacrifice. We have to set aside our own modes of thought to accommodate those of others. We see this in how Jesus submitted to the father.
We may come to love knowledge—our knowing—more than the thing known: to delight not in the exercise of our talents but in the fact that they are ours, or even in the reputation they bring us. Every success in the scholar’s life increases this danger. If it becomes irresistible, he must give up his scholarly work. The time for plucking out the right eye has arrived.
C. S. Lewis, “Learning in War-Time,” in The Weight of Glory and Other Addresses, p. 50.
Of all the miracles that Jesus performs, the one that most non-believers find the most unbelievable and take the greatest issue with is the virgin birth. They don't complain about Jesus walking on water or multiplying loaves, because these miracles deal with Jesus's own body or with Jesus giving gifts. But the miracle of Mary conceiving Jesus involves God making claims on our bodies. Many non-believers don't like the idea that God has claims on us, that we might, like Mary, have to say, "behold your maidservant," thus enduring judgment, suffering, and inconvenience. The reality is--nearly all people believe in virgin birth. Christians believe in Mary and Jesus, while non-creationists believe in life being immaculately conceived from a concoction of chemicals, the primordial soup.
What does it mean that the Kingdom is here but that we are also waiting for it to arrive? This situation is comparable to prisoners sitting in a German concentration camp. They've heard rumors that the Allies won, but they have yet to be liberated. Are they already free or yet-to-be-free?
After Adam sinned, God was obliged to subject creation to futility so that man in his sinful state might retain some measure o dominion over creation. Nature was involved for evil in man's fall; she will be emancipated when man receives the adoption as sons.
ESV Study Bible Romans 8:20
"Charles Spurgeon said it best, 'The gospel is like a caged lion. It does not need to be defended, it just needs to be let out of its cage.' The mystery of Jesus is just like the mystery in Revelation 5. He’s called the Lion of Judah, but when John looks, he sees a lamb slaughtered. Jesus is a powerful, victorious lion who achieved that victory by the act of the lamb who was slain."
Jefferson Bethke
When I have learned to love God better than my earthly dearest, I shall love my earthly dearest better than I do now. In so far as I learn to love my earthly dearest at the expense of God and instead of God, I shall be moving towards that state in which I shall not love my earthly dearest at all. When first things are put first, second things are not suppressed but increased.
C.S. Lewis
What does it reveal about people’s hearts when they want someone condemned to Hell? They are obviously judging that person’s actions against their own merit. They believe they are good enough to pass judgment on another person, but they accuse God — who is holy — of condemning people to this foreboding place.
Billy Graham
Marilynne Robinson, Gilead
My faith tells me that God shared poverty, suffering, and death with human beings, which can only mean that such things are full of dignity and meaning, even though to believe this makes a great demand on one's faith, and to act as if this were true in any way we understand is to be ridiculous. It is ridiculous also to act as if it were not absolutely and essentially true all the same. Even though we are to do everything we can to put an end to poverty and suffering.
Marilynne Robinson, Lila
Why did God create man and man rather than woman and woman to be together? Our different relational roles are modeled after the trinity. It's so comfortable and effortless to be with those of the same gender. We have the same communication style, the same concerns. It's only when we come together with those who are so different from us that we are greatly challenged to practice perspective-taking and self-sacrifice. We have to set aside our own modes of thought to accommodate those of others. We see this in how Jesus submitted to the father.
We may come to love knowledge—our knowing—more than the thing known: to delight not in the exercise of our talents but in the fact that they are ours, or even in the reputation they bring us. Every success in the scholar’s life increases this danger. If it becomes irresistible, he must give up his scholarly work. The time for plucking out the right eye has arrived.
C. S. Lewis, “Learning in War-Time,” in The Weight of Glory and Other Addresses, p. 50.
Of all the miracles that Jesus performs, the one that most non-believers find the most unbelievable and take the greatest issue with is the virgin birth. They don't complain about Jesus walking on water or multiplying loaves, because these miracles deal with Jesus's own body or with Jesus giving gifts. But the miracle of Mary conceiving Jesus involves God making claims on our bodies. Many non-believers don't like the idea that God has claims on us, that we might, like Mary, have to say, "behold your maidservant," thus enduring judgment, suffering, and inconvenience. The reality is--nearly all people believe in virgin birth. Christians believe in Mary and Jesus, while non-creationists believe in life being immaculately conceived from a concoction of chemicals, the primordial soup.
What does it mean that the Kingdom is here but that we are also waiting for it to arrive? This situation is comparable to prisoners sitting in a German concentration camp. They've heard rumors that the Allies won, but they have yet to be liberated. Are they already free or yet-to-be-free?
After Adam sinned, God was obliged to subject creation to futility so that man in his sinful state might retain some measure o dominion over creation. Nature was involved for evil in man's fall; she will be emancipated when man receives the adoption as sons.
ESV Study Bible Romans 8:20
In
each of my friends there is something that
only some other friend can fully bring out. By myself I am not large
enough to call the whole man into activity; I want other lights than my
own to show all his facets. Now that Charles is dead, I shall never
again see Ronald's reaction to a specifically Charles joke. Far from
having more of Ronald, having him "to myself" now that Charles is away, I
have less of Ronald.
Hence true Friendship is the least jealous
of loves. Two friends delight to be joined by a third, and three by a
fourth, if only the newcomer is qualified to become a real friend. They
can then say, as the blessed souls say in Dante, "Here comes one who
will augment our loves." For in this love "to divide is not to take
away." We possess each friend not less but more as the number of those with whom we share him increases.
In this, Friendship exhibits a glorious "nearness by resemblance" to heaven...for every soul, seeing Him in her own way, communicates that unique vision to all the rest. That, says an old author, is why the Seraphim, in Isaiah's vision are crying, "Holy, Holy Holy" to one another (Is 6:3). The more we share the Heavenly Bread between us, the more we shall all have.
In this, Friendship exhibits a glorious "nearness by resemblance" to heaven...for every soul, seeing Him in her own way, communicates that unique vision to all the rest. That, says an old author, is why the Seraphim, in Isaiah's vision are crying, "Holy, Holy Holy" to one another (Is 6:3). The more we share the Heavenly Bread between us, the more we shall all have.
C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves
"Charles Spurgeon said it best, 'The gospel is like a caged lion. It does not need to be defended, it just needs to be let out of its cage.' The mystery of Jesus is just like the mystery in Revelation 5. He’s called the Lion of Judah, but when John looks, he sees a lamb slaughtered. Jesus is a powerful, victorious lion who achieved that victory by the act of the lamb who was slain."
Jefferson Bethke
When I have learned to love God better than my earthly dearest, I shall love my earthly dearest better than I do now. In so far as I learn to love my earthly dearest at the expense of God and instead of God, I shall be moving towards that state in which I shall not love my earthly dearest at all. When first things are put first, second things are not suppressed but increased.
C.S. Lewis
What does it reveal about people’s hearts when they want someone condemned to Hell? They are obviously judging that person’s actions against their own merit. They believe they are good enough to pass judgment on another person, but they accuse God — who is holy — of condemning people to this foreboding place.
Billy Graham
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