John 3:16-21
How would you finish the phrase, “Love is…”? We could, and we often do, put all kinds of things and people into that sentence. We use “love” to apply to a radical array and variety of items in our lives. I love a well made mocha. I also love my wife. I love hiking in the Colorado Rockies. I also love my friends. Because we use this word to apply to so many different things, we often lose sight of the power and meaning of love. Sometimes, when a word means almost anything, it comes to mean almost nothing.
So, what does it mean that “God so loved the world” that he gave his one and only Son? John uses a powerful word for love here, and we ought to look at it in at least three ways. This love is attention. When we have a deep love for someone or something, it consumes our attention. They are on our minds often if not all the time, and we are interested in their well-being and their condition. To love a thing is to give our attention to a thing.
This love is also attachment. When we love a thing, a person, or an idea, we will attach ourselves to them. We will rearrange our lives and prioritize our time so we can be with, or think about, or do for those people. My heart, my mind, and my life will attach themselves to the things I love.
This love is also sacrifice. We sacrifice for the things we love. And we sacrifice to the degree we love them. I will sacrifice money for a good meal. But there are people in my life for whom I would sacrifice my life.
God so loved the world that he gave all these things to us. He has lavished his attention upon us in the form of his Son. Christ came to reveal the will and heart of the Father in his life among us. God also attached himself to this world through the incarnation. Jesus took on real flesh and bone and lived a human life as God with us. And then God sacrificed for us out of his love. Jesus suffered real betrayal, humiliation and pain. Jesus really did die a torturous death upon a cross, forsaken by his closest friends. It cost God to love us.
And in this love we see the will of God. We become shockingly aware of what God wants when we pay attention to his love. We, his creation, were separated from him and lost in our brokenness and sin. He saw the chasm and initiated reconciliation through giving us his Son. Paul says that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us (Rom 5:6-8). The disciple Peter says that God’s will is that none should perish, but that all would come to repentance (2 Peter 3:9).
But just as we learn of God by his love, we also learn from our loves. The problem is not with God’s love, but with ours. Jesus is clear that though the light came into the darkness, people did not receive him because they loved darkness rather than the light (John 3:19). The shocking thing is, our love of darkness is just as deep as God’s love for us. God loves (agape) the world, but humans love (agape) darkness.
So then, where is my mind naturally drawn? To whom and what am I naturally willing to attach myself? What do I naturally sacrifice for? Just as God’s love drives him into our lives to reconcile us to himself, our loves, when they remain in darkness, blind us to the gift of God.
But that is not the end of the story, because, God so loved the world that he gave his only Son to us that we might believe and not perish, but have everlasting life. God loves the world.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Monday, January 4, 2010
Why Does God Care?
John 2:1-12
Have you ever wondered what God cares about? What is it that catches his attention? What in this universe moves God? After all, he is the Creator, the Author of all time and history, and he knows the position of every atom and molecule in the universe. He sees the beginning from the end and all of human history is simply a glance for God. There are a lot of grand and magnificent things for God to take care of and large sweeps in human affairs for God to pay attention to. Have you ever wondered if God really does take notice – and care – about the microscopic scope of your life?
Jesus’ first miracle in John’s Gospel is a telling glimpse into these questions. And not only does it begin to tell us what kinds of things God cares about, but more importantly, it shows us why he cares about them.
Jesus, his disciples and his mother are invited to a wedding in Cana in Galilee. They travel a few miles from the tiny and humble hamlet of Nazareth to the tiny and humble town of Cana. Like the small villages around it, Cana is obscure, simple, and even poor. From the very start there are very few people here to even behold the glory that is the miracle Jesus is about to perform. Then, when the wine runs out, Jesus and his mother have a conversation about what needs to happen. Though he gently rebuffs her for placing expectation upon him, Mary responds with the right kind of surrender and faith by telling the servants to do whatever Jesus tells them to do.
Then, in this small town at an anonymous wedding celebration, Jesus is left alone with a couple of servants and a handful of young disciples. And it is there, in the back hallway of the house that Jesus performs the first of his miracles.
Though Jesus is teaching his disciples something deep and meaningful about him and his mission on earth, there is no getting around the simple fact that there is also a wedding that needs saving. Jesus saves the groom and his family embarrassment and even shame by quietly turning 180 gallons of water into wine.
I struggle from time to time over the care and attention of God. Of all the things and people in this universe, can it really be true that God not only sees me (is simply aware of my presence the way I am aware of harmless spiders in my basement) but that he cares (more deeply than I care for my own family)? Then I read a passage like this one and am reassured that God reaches even into the simple and humble recesses of life and is ready to perform the miraculous. Not even a sparrow falls to the ground apart from my Father’s attention, and in his eyes, I am worth more that many sparrows.
But John also tells us why Jesus works wonders in the humble estate of my life. After a miracle performed in an out of the way town among only a handful of unimportant people, John says, “This, the first of his signs, Jesus did at Cana in Galilee, and manifested his glory. And his disciples believed in him.”
Why is Christ at work in even my life? Every ounce of his activity in my life is designed to reveal the divine splendor and the eternal power and might of my God. He does not work in and through me so that the world might see me – it is so the world around me may see the glory of my Savior and that they might place their trust and confidence in him.
Every moment of my life is pregnant with the glory of God.
Have you ever wondered what God cares about? What is it that catches his attention? What in this universe moves God? After all, he is the Creator, the Author of all time and history, and he knows the position of every atom and molecule in the universe. He sees the beginning from the end and all of human history is simply a glance for God. There are a lot of grand and magnificent things for God to take care of and large sweeps in human affairs for God to pay attention to. Have you ever wondered if God really does take notice – and care – about the microscopic scope of your life?
Jesus’ first miracle in John’s Gospel is a telling glimpse into these questions. And not only does it begin to tell us what kinds of things God cares about, but more importantly, it shows us why he cares about them.
Jesus, his disciples and his mother are invited to a wedding in Cana in Galilee. They travel a few miles from the tiny and humble hamlet of Nazareth to the tiny and humble town of Cana. Like the small villages around it, Cana is obscure, simple, and even poor. From the very start there are very few people here to even behold the glory that is the miracle Jesus is about to perform. Then, when the wine runs out, Jesus and his mother have a conversation about what needs to happen. Though he gently rebuffs her for placing expectation upon him, Mary responds with the right kind of surrender and faith by telling the servants to do whatever Jesus tells them to do.
Then, in this small town at an anonymous wedding celebration, Jesus is left alone with a couple of servants and a handful of young disciples. And it is there, in the back hallway of the house that Jesus performs the first of his miracles.
Though Jesus is teaching his disciples something deep and meaningful about him and his mission on earth, there is no getting around the simple fact that there is also a wedding that needs saving. Jesus saves the groom and his family embarrassment and even shame by quietly turning 180 gallons of water into wine.
I struggle from time to time over the care and attention of God. Of all the things and people in this universe, can it really be true that God not only sees me (is simply aware of my presence the way I am aware of harmless spiders in my basement) but that he cares (more deeply than I care for my own family)? Then I read a passage like this one and am reassured that God reaches even into the simple and humble recesses of life and is ready to perform the miraculous. Not even a sparrow falls to the ground apart from my Father’s attention, and in his eyes, I am worth more that many sparrows.
But John also tells us why Jesus works wonders in the humble estate of my life. After a miracle performed in an out of the way town among only a handful of unimportant people, John says, “This, the first of his signs, Jesus did at Cana in Galilee, and manifested his glory. And his disciples believed in him.”
Why is Christ at work in even my life? Every ounce of his activity in my life is designed to reveal the divine splendor and the eternal power and might of my God. He does not work in and through me so that the world might see me – it is so the world around me may see the glory of my Savior and that they might place their trust and confidence in him.
Every moment of my life is pregnant with the glory of God.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
The Birth of Jesus Christ
Luke 2:1-21
God’s extravagance and humility are shocking. The King of Kings, the Son of God and Son of Man incarnate, the Savior of all humanity, was born into human flesh in an anonymous stable in a small town to the fanfare of the smell of sheep and donkeys. The most important birth in human history happened when and where almost no one was watching.
Joseph and Mary were at home in Nazareth during the final weeks of the pregnancy until the decree came from Rome that sent them on the sixty mile trek to Bethlehem where they were too late to find good lodging. They went from a warm four walls with family to a room intended for animals. And as Luke tells the story, it is almost as if the birth simply comes:
“And while they were there, the time came for her to give birth. And she gave birth to her first born son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.” (vs. 6-7)
Everything about the birth of Jesus Christ leads us to the emptying, or the humility, of God. Paul tells us that Jesus, though God, did not count equality with God something to hold on to, but he willingly emptied himself and took the form of a slave (Philippians 2:5-7). The author of Hebrews tells us that because God’s children all share in corruptible flesh, the Son of God took on that same flesh to destroy the one who frightens us with death, the devil (Hebrews 2:14-15).
The birth of Jesus Christ happens in a way completely disconnected from and completely unmoved by the whims and trappings of human power. We seek our stability and power in what the kingdoms of this world tell us is power, but Jesus shows us a better, a deeper and more stable way. Though the most powerful man on the planet, the emperor of Rome, sent Joseph and Mary packing, God had – and still has – his way.
But the extravagance of God? On a nearby hillside there were a handful of common, ordinary laborers doing their job in the middle of the night. And it is to these shepherds that God decides to give maybe the clearest and certainly the most magnificent revelation of the significance of that night. While they watched their flocks by night, an angel materialized and lit up the hillside.
“And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them.” (vs. 9)
It didn’t end there. After another minute or two, God sends an entire choir of the heavenly host to sing the glories of God and the reasons for the birth of their Messiah. Now that is the right way to announce the birth of a King!
But who was the audience? Bethlehem is just a couple of miles from Jerusalem. If God simply moved the angelic choir over a couple of hills, all the population of Jerusalem would have heard the news. Instead, God opens the sky and pours forth his extravagant glory upon a handful of simple shepherds.
We might be tempted to think that was a waste of angelic effort. God didn’t think so. God spoke and the shepherds responded by going to see Joseph, Mary and the baby, and by telling everyone the saw about the glory of God. God didn’t need kings and princes – He needed willing and humble shepherds. There is no effort wasted declaring the glories of our God.
God’s extravagance and humility are shocking. The King of Kings, the Son of God and Son of Man incarnate, the Savior of all humanity, was born into human flesh in an anonymous stable in a small town to the fanfare of the smell of sheep and donkeys. The most important birth in human history happened when and where almost no one was watching.
Joseph and Mary were at home in Nazareth during the final weeks of the pregnancy until the decree came from Rome that sent them on the sixty mile trek to Bethlehem where they were too late to find good lodging. They went from a warm four walls with family to a room intended for animals. And as Luke tells the story, it is almost as if the birth simply comes:
“And while they were there, the time came for her to give birth. And she gave birth to her first born son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.” (vs. 6-7)
Everything about the birth of Jesus Christ leads us to the emptying, or the humility, of God. Paul tells us that Jesus, though God, did not count equality with God something to hold on to, but he willingly emptied himself and took the form of a slave (Philippians 2:5-7). The author of Hebrews tells us that because God’s children all share in corruptible flesh, the Son of God took on that same flesh to destroy the one who frightens us with death, the devil (Hebrews 2:14-15).
The birth of Jesus Christ happens in a way completely disconnected from and completely unmoved by the whims and trappings of human power. We seek our stability and power in what the kingdoms of this world tell us is power, but Jesus shows us a better, a deeper and more stable way. Though the most powerful man on the planet, the emperor of Rome, sent Joseph and Mary packing, God had – and still has – his way.
But the extravagance of God? On a nearby hillside there were a handful of common, ordinary laborers doing their job in the middle of the night. And it is to these shepherds that God decides to give maybe the clearest and certainly the most magnificent revelation of the significance of that night. While they watched their flocks by night, an angel materialized and lit up the hillside.
“And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them.” (vs. 9)
It didn’t end there. After another minute or two, God sends an entire choir of the heavenly host to sing the glories of God and the reasons for the birth of their Messiah. Now that is the right way to announce the birth of a King!
But who was the audience? Bethlehem is just a couple of miles from Jerusalem. If God simply moved the angelic choir over a couple of hills, all the population of Jerusalem would have heard the news. Instead, God opens the sky and pours forth his extravagant glory upon a handful of simple shepherds.
We might be tempted to think that was a waste of angelic effort. God didn’t think so. God spoke and the shepherds responded by going to see Joseph, Mary and the baby, and by telling everyone the saw about the glory of God. God didn’t need kings and princes – He needed willing and humble shepherds. There is no effort wasted declaring the glories of our God.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Behold Your God of Might: Isaiah 40
Isaiah 40:10-11
In this chapter, the prophet responds to the really bad news he presented to the king in chapter 39 – the people of God will suffer at the hands of their enemies. In that context of distress, the beauty and grace of chapter 40 is arresting. We don’t expect the greatness of God to be extolled, but it is. And it is an incredible entrance into the character of God and our understanding of him in difficult times. In our passage, Isaiah extols the might of God:
“Behold your God! Behold, the Lord God comes with might, and his arm rules for him;…” (40:9-10)
Growing up in Pentecostal circles meant I was privy to services and small groups where we prayed for miraculous things to happen, and from time to time, they did. I have prayed for people who were healed, we heard the stories of miraculous events, and every time it was both natural and right to praise God as a God of might and power. When we see God show up in these miraculous ways, it is easy for us to repeat after Isaiah, “Behold, the Lord God comes with might.”
But that is not the context of Isaiah 40. Instead, God’s people are experiencing a time of waiting in which they will suffer at the hands of their enemies and it will likely be a very long time before they see the kind of might and power that will free them of their political burdens.
Though it is easy and right to praise God as mighty and powerful when we experience amazing things, it is necessary to praise God as mighty and powerful when we don’t. God’s might and power never fade or change through the seasons of our life and our guard against distress and fear is to proclaim him as such in all circumstances. To complete the picture drawn by Isaiah, it is important to see what kind of God of might we are to behold.
“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.” (vs. 11)
More often than in the great miracles, we experience a God of might as he tends to his people day by day. It is in the normal humdrum of the average life that the God who created the universe leads his people in might. Isaiah’s image is of God carrying a rod in one hand and clutching a lamb close to his chest in the other.
Behold your God of might.
God is greater than “the ordinary.” He is more present than our sense of his absence. His light shines through the fog of our routine. Our Shepherd clutches us close while we pay absolutely no attention to him.
We can begin to cultivate a sense of this kind of God by simply repeating with the prophet that our God is a God of might who shepherds us through every moment of existence. We find what Thomas Kelly called a “subterranean sanctuary of the soul” where his presence is always strong and where his light is always shining.
In this chapter, the prophet responds to the really bad news he presented to the king in chapter 39 – the people of God will suffer at the hands of their enemies. In that context of distress, the beauty and grace of chapter 40 is arresting. We don’t expect the greatness of God to be extolled, but it is. And it is an incredible entrance into the character of God and our understanding of him in difficult times. In our passage, Isaiah extols the might of God:
“Behold your God! Behold, the Lord God comes with might, and his arm rules for him;…” (40:9-10)
Growing up in Pentecostal circles meant I was privy to services and small groups where we prayed for miraculous things to happen, and from time to time, they did. I have prayed for people who were healed, we heard the stories of miraculous events, and every time it was both natural and right to praise God as a God of might and power. When we see God show up in these miraculous ways, it is easy for us to repeat after Isaiah, “Behold, the Lord God comes with might.”
But that is not the context of Isaiah 40. Instead, God’s people are experiencing a time of waiting in which they will suffer at the hands of their enemies and it will likely be a very long time before they see the kind of might and power that will free them of their political burdens.
Though it is easy and right to praise God as mighty and powerful when we experience amazing things, it is necessary to praise God as mighty and powerful when we don’t. God’s might and power never fade or change through the seasons of our life and our guard against distress and fear is to proclaim him as such in all circumstances. To complete the picture drawn by Isaiah, it is important to see what kind of God of might we are to behold.
“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.” (vs. 11)
More often than in the great miracles, we experience a God of might as he tends to his people day by day. It is in the normal humdrum of the average life that the God who created the universe leads his people in might. Isaiah’s image is of God carrying a rod in one hand and clutching a lamb close to his chest in the other.
Behold your God of might.
God is greater than “the ordinary.” He is more present than our sense of his absence. His light shines through the fog of our routine. Our Shepherd clutches us close while we pay absolutely no attention to him.
We can begin to cultivate a sense of this kind of God by simply repeating with the prophet that our God is a God of might who shepherds us through every moment of existence. We find what Thomas Kelly called a “subterranean sanctuary of the soul” where his presence is always strong and where his light is always shining.
Monday, October 12, 2009
A Whale-Sized Grace
Jonah 1:17
When we think about the story of Jonah, we usually think of one thing – a big fish. In all of our children’s Bibles, for example, the story is told through the lens of the fish. And even though Jonah’s story is short, in actuality, the fish only has three verses dedicated to it. There is much more to Jonah’s struggle with God than a whale’s gullet, but his three days and nights in that submarine gastronomic miracle focused the prophet. When we pay attention to the role of the fish in Jonah’s life, we learn quickly what it really is – the grace of God.
“And the LORD appointed a great fish to swallow up Jonah. And Jonah was in the belly of the fish three days and three nights.” (1:17)
God did this to Jonah. It wasn’t a strange or lucky coincidence; it was a deliberate action on God’s behalf. God “appointed” -- or called, or arranged, or caused -- this fish to show up at this place at this time to have his prophet for breakfast. Jonah even sees this pitch-black stomach for what it is, “For you cast me into the deep, into the heart of the seas, and the flood surrounded me; all your waves and your billows passed over me” (vs. 3). It was God’s doing, and Jonah is OK with that.
God put Jonah in the fish’s belly to get him back on the right track – to restore a right relationship between himself and his rebellious child. The fish was God’s means of getting hold of his prophet’s heart and mind again, and because it is Jonah’s way back to God, it is God’s grace. It is dark and dank and putrid, but it is God’s grace. It is odd and unique (Jonah must have uttered that common prayer, “Why me?” while sliding down the throat), but it is God’s grace. It is literally the darkest, deepest, and loneliest pit a human could be in, but it is God’s grace. It strips Jonah (literally and figuratively) of every earthly thing that distracts him from his God, but it is God’s grace.
Any act of God that is intended to bring me back to him is an act of grace and mercy. Even this is God’s love. When we think about receiving the goodness and grace of God, we normally think about, and certainly want, the nice stuff. We long for and seek for God’s niceness to us. And to be sure, there are seasons of life full of blessedness in our lives with God and with others. But there are other seasons when God does different kinds of things with his people.
When we look for the grace of God, are we ready for it to swallow us?
When it does, we can now turn to a formerly rebellious prophet who prays with the faithful who have travelled this path before him. We now learn from Jonah a positive lesson we have yet to learn – what it means to live with God in the darkest places in our lives.
“When my life was fainting away, I remembered the LORD, and my prayer came to you, into your holy temple....But I with the voice of thanksgiving will sacrifice to you; what I have vowed I will pay. Salvation belongs to the LORD!” (vs. 7, 9)
When the darkness closes in and when our life faints away, we can now look to and pray with Jonah. “Lord, I thank you! I will sacrifice everything for you, and give you everything I am and everything I have. Salvation belongs to my Lord!”
When we think about the story of Jonah, we usually think of one thing – a big fish. In all of our children’s Bibles, for example, the story is told through the lens of the fish. And even though Jonah’s story is short, in actuality, the fish only has three verses dedicated to it. There is much more to Jonah’s struggle with God than a whale’s gullet, but his three days and nights in that submarine gastronomic miracle focused the prophet. When we pay attention to the role of the fish in Jonah’s life, we learn quickly what it really is – the grace of God.
“And the LORD appointed a great fish to swallow up Jonah. And Jonah was in the belly of the fish three days and three nights.” (1:17)
God did this to Jonah. It wasn’t a strange or lucky coincidence; it was a deliberate action on God’s behalf. God “appointed” -- or called, or arranged, or caused -- this fish to show up at this place at this time to have his prophet for breakfast. Jonah even sees this pitch-black stomach for what it is, “For you cast me into the deep, into the heart of the seas, and the flood surrounded me; all your waves and your billows passed over me” (vs. 3). It was God’s doing, and Jonah is OK with that.
God put Jonah in the fish’s belly to get him back on the right track – to restore a right relationship between himself and his rebellious child. The fish was God’s means of getting hold of his prophet’s heart and mind again, and because it is Jonah’s way back to God, it is God’s grace. It is dark and dank and putrid, but it is God’s grace. It is odd and unique (Jonah must have uttered that common prayer, “Why me?” while sliding down the throat), but it is God’s grace. It is literally the darkest, deepest, and loneliest pit a human could be in, but it is God’s grace. It strips Jonah (literally and figuratively) of every earthly thing that distracts him from his God, but it is God’s grace.
Any act of God that is intended to bring me back to him is an act of grace and mercy. Even this is God’s love. When we think about receiving the goodness and grace of God, we normally think about, and certainly want, the nice stuff. We long for and seek for God’s niceness to us. And to be sure, there are seasons of life full of blessedness in our lives with God and with others. But there are other seasons when God does different kinds of things with his people.
When we look for the grace of God, are we ready for it to swallow us?
When it does, we can now turn to a formerly rebellious prophet who prays with the faithful who have travelled this path before him. We now learn from Jonah a positive lesson we have yet to learn – what it means to live with God in the darkest places in our lives.
“When my life was fainting away, I remembered the LORD, and my prayer came to you, into your holy temple....But I with the voice of thanksgiving will sacrifice to you; what I have vowed I will pay. Salvation belongs to the LORD!” (vs. 7, 9)
When the darkness closes in and when our life faints away, we can now look to and pray with Jonah. “Lord, I thank you! I will sacrifice everything for you, and give you everything I am and everything I have. Salvation belongs to my Lord!”
Monday, September 21, 2009
Prayer, Praise and the Uniquely Christian Life
James 5:13
The Christian life is a unique life. Following Jesus changes everything for us – at least it should change everything. This doesn’t mean we leave our jobs and families and live in communes in the forest. It means that the lives we lead are forever and irrevocably changed. As James closes his epistle, he wants to make sure his readers are left with a set of important thoughts ringing in their ears. The life he described up to this point transforms the way we view pain and suffering, the way we value and treat others, and the way we use our tongues, to mention just a few things. Now it is time for the final set of exclamation points on the descriptions of this uniquely Christian life.
Is anyone among you suffering? We know James’ readers are suffering; we know our neighbors are; we know the reality of suffering in our own lives. The question is not hypothetical, and James’ answer should unsettle us a bit. It is exactly when things go out of our control that our natural impulse is to DO something and not just sit around and take it. We want to take events and people into our own hands and rework the situation so we and our loved ones can avoid the pain we are in. James, however, says the most important thing we can do in the most complicated and confusing seasons of life is pray. Prayer is not the Christian’s back-up plan; it is our constant source of strength.
We pray to the Creator of the Universe – to the one who spun the universe into existence and holds the expanse of time and space in the palm of his hand. I pray to the Only Wise God. We pray to the God who walked among us in human flesh. He was born, lived and died truly human, and he rose again conquering death and sin. I pray to the Incarnate God. And I pray by the prompting and power of the very Spirit of God within me. I pray by God’s Empowering Presence. This is the uniquely Christian prayer.
Is anyone among you cheerful? We sometimes find ourselves in this season of life – we are blessed, we are happy, we are at peace in our hearts and minds. James tells us the right reaction is to sing songs of praise. Praise is an open door to the presence of God. When God’s people assembled at the Temple in the Old Testament, they we lead in praise and worship to the God who lead them out of Egypt and gave them a homeland. And when the presence of the Lord fell, they praised some more. At the end of all things when we catch a glimpse of the throne room of God, we encounter angelic beings and the redeemed singing songs of praise to God for his majesty, power, justice, forgiveness and mercy. We will, for all of eternity, be caught up in a chorus of praise to our God.
But we can add to James the words of Paul. Right now we may not feel the power, steadfast love and grace of God. We may be walking a different path. To us, Paul says in 2 Corinthians 1:3, “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort.” Praise be to God for the comfort and compassion he gives in the midst of my suffering and pain. Praise be to this God in all seasons of life. Praise is not a seasonal activity; it is my constant response to this God who redeemed me.
If praise is not a part of my life, I don’t know who my God is.
Prayer and praise are consistent and universal activities in the Christian life. They are our constant companions in this uniquely Christian life.
The Christian life is a unique life. Following Jesus changes everything for us – at least it should change everything. This doesn’t mean we leave our jobs and families and live in communes in the forest. It means that the lives we lead are forever and irrevocably changed. As James closes his epistle, he wants to make sure his readers are left with a set of important thoughts ringing in their ears. The life he described up to this point transforms the way we view pain and suffering, the way we value and treat others, and the way we use our tongues, to mention just a few things. Now it is time for the final set of exclamation points on the descriptions of this uniquely Christian life.
Is anyone among you suffering? We know James’ readers are suffering; we know our neighbors are; we know the reality of suffering in our own lives. The question is not hypothetical, and James’ answer should unsettle us a bit. It is exactly when things go out of our control that our natural impulse is to DO something and not just sit around and take it. We want to take events and people into our own hands and rework the situation so we and our loved ones can avoid the pain we are in. James, however, says the most important thing we can do in the most complicated and confusing seasons of life is pray. Prayer is not the Christian’s back-up plan; it is our constant source of strength.
We pray to the Creator of the Universe – to the one who spun the universe into existence and holds the expanse of time and space in the palm of his hand. I pray to the Only Wise God. We pray to the God who walked among us in human flesh. He was born, lived and died truly human, and he rose again conquering death and sin. I pray to the Incarnate God. And I pray by the prompting and power of the very Spirit of God within me. I pray by God’s Empowering Presence. This is the uniquely Christian prayer.
Is anyone among you cheerful? We sometimes find ourselves in this season of life – we are blessed, we are happy, we are at peace in our hearts and minds. James tells us the right reaction is to sing songs of praise. Praise is an open door to the presence of God. When God’s people assembled at the Temple in the Old Testament, they we lead in praise and worship to the God who lead them out of Egypt and gave them a homeland. And when the presence of the Lord fell, they praised some more. At the end of all things when we catch a glimpse of the throne room of God, we encounter angelic beings and the redeemed singing songs of praise to God for his majesty, power, justice, forgiveness and mercy. We will, for all of eternity, be caught up in a chorus of praise to our God.
But we can add to James the words of Paul. Right now we may not feel the power, steadfast love and grace of God. We may be walking a different path. To us, Paul says in 2 Corinthians 1:3, “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort.” Praise be to God for the comfort and compassion he gives in the midst of my suffering and pain. Praise be to this God in all seasons of life. Praise is not a seasonal activity; it is my constant response to this God who redeemed me.
If praise is not a part of my life, I don’t know who my God is.
Prayer and praise are consistent and universal activities in the Christian life. They are our constant companions in this uniquely Christian life.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Wrong Expectations
Malachi 3:13-4:6
In the final conversation between Malachi and Judah, God has a concern or two about Judah’s worship and their conception of him, and Judah has a final shot across the bow of God’s character and behavior. Judah has taken stock of the world around them, tried to relate that to God, and the two just are not jiving. Though some of Judah’s complaints have been ours from time to time, we need to be careful as we learn from God’s answer.
“Your words have been hard against me.” (vs 13)
There is nothing very nuanced about this claim – Judah has said some things about God that are hard to take, or as another translation puts it, they are “terrible” things to say. God’s answer to their “how” is devastating.
“You have said, 'It is vain to serve God. What is the profit of our keeping his charge or of walking as in mourning before the LORD of hosts? And now we call the arrogant blessed. Evildoers not only prosper but they put God to the test and they escape’.” (vs 14-15)
To say that it is vain to serve God would, of course, be a very hard thing to say to God. What they mean by “vain” is not, “arrogant,” but something that is futile, vapid, empty, or meaningless. We can hear their words as, “it is meaningless to serve God!” So what brings a person to this fairly radical conclusion?
As it turns out, Judah concluded their relationship with God was meaningless because their idea of a meaningful relationship was all wrong. In other words, they approached their relationship with God with the wrong set of expectations, and when they were (naturally) not met, they concluded the relationship was a joke. We easily do the same thing, and not just with God. If we enter a relationship with the wrong expectations, we become disillusioned when they are not met. And when this happens, who is to blame? So what were Judah’s false expectations about a relationship with God?
First of all, they expected “profit.” Again, this word is pretty straightforward – it means the gain from labor. They somehow expected that when they did their part in serving God and being good little Judeans, God would be compelled to do his part and reward them with financial and material blessings. To be blunt, this is a selfish way of approaching our faith and it treats God as if we are lords of the universe, and not Him. He is not at our beck and call.
Secondly, they expected that external acts of worship were true religion. They complained that “keeping his charge” and “mourning” were not producing the expected results. They were going through the motions expecting them to be a kind of talisman, a kind of magical incantation that would fulfill their spiritual requirements. But even Christ is clear on this problem: “This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me; in vain do they worship me” (Matthew 15:8). True and acceptable worship is a natural and inevitable expression of what is in our hearts, not the other way around.
And third, they expected God would kill all the bad guys. They were angry that “evildoers not only prosper but they put God to the test and escape.” It is natural for us, in the certian seasons of our lives, to express this very thing to God. We are sometimes angry that evil people seem to be getting away with it. God’s answer, however, reminds us of a couple of very important realities. First of all, God sees all things and there really are moral distinctions with God (vs. 18). And as a result, they day is coming when the final line will be drawn in the sand and evildoers will be done away with (4:1-2).
But ultimately, God’s answer to these frustrations and accusations from Judah is his plan of reconciliation through his son, Jesus Christ. Malachi’s final prophecy about Elijah and his ministry of reconciliation is picked up in the Gospels as applying to John the Baptist and Jesus Christ.
God’s plan for broken and sinful humanity right now is to send his Son to live God’s life among us, to willingly die on a cross to atone for our sins, and to rise from the grave to give us hope for life eternal. And may I say, thank God!
In the final conversation between Malachi and Judah, God has a concern or two about Judah’s worship and their conception of him, and Judah has a final shot across the bow of God’s character and behavior. Judah has taken stock of the world around them, tried to relate that to God, and the two just are not jiving. Though some of Judah’s complaints have been ours from time to time, we need to be careful as we learn from God’s answer.
“Your words have been hard against me.” (vs 13)
There is nothing very nuanced about this claim – Judah has said some things about God that are hard to take, or as another translation puts it, they are “terrible” things to say. God’s answer to their “how” is devastating.
“You have said, 'It is vain to serve God. What is the profit of our keeping his charge or of walking as in mourning before the LORD of hosts? And now we call the arrogant blessed. Evildoers not only prosper but they put God to the test and they escape’.” (vs 14-15)
To say that it is vain to serve God would, of course, be a very hard thing to say to God. What they mean by “vain” is not, “arrogant,” but something that is futile, vapid, empty, or meaningless. We can hear their words as, “it is meaningless to serve God!” So what brings a person to this fairly radical conclusion?
As it turns out, Judah concluded their relationship with God was meaningless because their idea of a meaningful relationship was all wrong. In other words, they approached their relationship with God with the wrong set of expectations, and when they were (naturally) not met, they concluded the relationship was a joke. We easily do the same thing, and not just with God. If we enter a relationship with the wrong expectations, we become disillusioned when they are not met. And when this happens, who is to blame? So what were Judah’s false expectations about a relationship with God?
First of all, they expected “profit.” Again, this word is pretty straightforward – it means the gain from labor. They somehow expected that when they did their part in serving God and being good little Judeans, God would be compelled to do his part and reward them with financial and material blessings. To be blunt, this is a selfish way of approaching our faith and it treats God as if we are lords of the universe, and not Him. He is not at our beck and call.
Secondly, they expected that external acts of worship were true religion. They complained that “keeping his charge” and “mourning” were not producing the expected results. They were going through the motions expecting them to be a kind of talisman, a kind of magical incantation that would fulfill their spiritual requirements. But even Christ is clear on this problem: “This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me; in vain do they worship me” (Matthew 15:8). True and acceptable worship is a natural and inevitable expression of what is in our hearts, not the other way around.
And third, they expected God would kill all the bad guys. They were angry that “evildoers not only prosper but they put God to the test and escape.” It is natural for us, in the certian seasons of our lives, to express this very thing to God. We are sometimes angry that evil people seem to be getting away with it. God’s answer, however, reminds us of a couple of very important realities. First of all, God sees all things and there really are moral distinctions with God (vs. 18). And as a result, they day is coming when the final line will be drawn in the sand and evildoers will be done away with (4:1-2).
But ultimately, God’s answer to these frustrations and accusations from Judah is his plan of reconciliation through his son, Jesus Christ. Malachi’s final prophecy about Elijah and his ministry of reconciliation is picked up in the Gospels as applying to John the Baptist and Jesus Christ.
God’s plan for broken and sinful humanity right now is to send his Son to live God’s life among us, to willingly die on a cross to atone for our sins, and to rise from the grave to give us hope for life eternal. And may I say, thank God!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
