Having been negligent lately in "praising the Lord at all times," I think this is a good month to let praise speak for itself.
Praise the Lord in the highest heavens;
Praise Him, stars of the midnight sky;
Praise Him, moon and each circling planet;
Praise Him, angels who serve on high.
Praise the Lord from the deepest ocean;
Praise Him, beasts of the field and wood;
Every creature, now bow before Him;
Praise the Lord, Who made all things good.
Praise the Lord from your inmost being,
Every soul of the human race;
Give your thanks and your adoration
To the God of all power and grace.
Praise the Lord and rejoice before Him;
Praise the One Whom our souls adore;
Praise Him, praise Him; yes, praise Him always,
For all time and forevermore.
Showing posts with label worship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label worship. Show all posts
Friday, July 26, 2013
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Sing Praise to God, Who Made the Stars
Even in today's light-polluted cities, the stars still have power to make us feel small. Psalm 8:3-4 still puts it best: "When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him?" And David didn't even know that most of those stars are hundreds of times bigger than Earth and thousands of light years distant.
Even today, we try to scale down the universe to what our minds can grasp, routinely crafting science fiction that erases the difficulties of traveling faster than light and balancing the "time zones" of separate solar systems. Likewise, we frequently try to understand God by our own logic: "Why doesn't He do this/stop that/straighten these things out when any reasonable human being would if given the power?" Some people, having accepted that they can't figure God out, go to the opposite extreme and conclude He probably doesn't understand them either--or care to.
There's a Christmas fable about a man who couldn't see why God would become human until he saw a flock of birds blundering about in a snowstorm, and, unable to make them understand that shelter was nearby, found himself wishing he could become a bird and lead them there. Christmas is where we find the balance between our inability to comprehend God and His desire to have us know Him, between the Maker of vast space and the Father Who guards and guides our every step through this world.
This Advent, take time to think about the love and humility involved in God's own Incarnational step between two realities.
Sing
praise to God, Who made the stars, Who rules the whole of space;
From
farthest galaxy to Mars, He gives each part a place;
Down
to this tiny world of ours, He holds them by His grace.
Sing
praise to God, Who made the sea, the land, and all that flies;
The
greatest whale, the smallest flea, He watches with His eyes;
He
likewise watches you and me; and He is good and wise.
Sing
praise to God, Who gives us breath, Who guards us every day,
Who
will not let us live bereft, but seeks us when we stray,
Who
loves us all from birth to death, and leads us in His way.
Sing
praise to God, Who made all time, each moment and each year,
Who
holds us by His Power divine, and calms our every fear:
“I’m coming back,” He says, “for Mine, and I will dry
each tear.”
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Sabbath Spirit
As the week starts to wind down, many of us are already anticipating the weekend. But what are we really anticipating? Time to enjoy our favorite hobbies? Time to surf the Internet? Time to get out of town for a day? Time to catch up on our chores? Time to sleep late?
Or... just "down time," period?
Or do we feel a bit guilty even entertaining that idea? For many of us, weekends are as frenetic as weeks, and Sundays no less than Saturdays. Many people arrive at church irritable over how the kids dawdled getting ready, apprehensive over doing good jobs as ushers or choir singers, and hoping the sermon won't cut into after-church time. Too many people with too many weeks of such attitudes, and you wind up with a congregation lacking in both joy and Christian love, full of plastic smiles and good behavior that hides aching hearts and judgmental spirits.
When God commanded His people to take every seventh day for a Sabbath, what He wanted was for them to pause the "hurry-scurry-flurry" of life long enough to discover the true joy of loving Him and each other with all our hearts. All too frequently, we instead make "worship day" either a dutiful requirement or an excuse to be equally busy with different things--and then squabble over who's right about what. Jesus regarded the legalistic Sabbath-keeping of His earthly days with sadness and anger; one can picture Him still shaking His head today because His people still don't "get it."
Loveless legalism and flippant disregard have their roots in the same problem: trying to define "how rest should work" solely by our own judgment. The Sabbath was intended as a day for us to get in tune with God's judgment, to take time to listen to Him and to absorb the teachings of the Spirit so we can learn to see things eternal as clearly as things temporal.
And to carry that sight into our daily work.
The dawning of the Lord's Day
Should bring us joy and peace:
Forgive us, God our Father,
When strivings do not cease,
And when we rush our worship
And squander what is best:
Give us a Sabbath Spirit,
That knows the way of rest!
The dawning of the Lord's Day
Should lift our hearts to praise:
Forgive us, God our Father,
When we choose selfish ways
And grumble over matters
Of prayers or music tone:
Give us a Sabbath Spirit,
That seeks Your will alone!
The dawning of the Lord's Day
Should bid us seek new heights:
Forgive us, God our Father,
When we chase selfish "rights,"
And help us yearn, wholehearted,
For all You hold in store:
Give us a Sabbath Spirit,
That craves to know You more!
Or... just "down time," period?
Or do we feel a bit guilty even entertaining that idea? For many of us, weekends are as frenetic as weeks, and Sundays no less than Saturdays. Many people arrive at church irritable over how the kids dawdled getting ready, apprehensive over doing good jobs as ushers or choir singers, and hoping the sermon won't cut into after-church time. Too many people with too many weeks of such attitudes, and you wind up with a congregation lacking in both joy and Christian love, full of plastic smiles and good behavior that hides aching hearts and judgmental spirits.
When God commanded His people to take every seventh day for a Sabbath, what He wanted was for them to pause the "hurry-scurry-flurry" of life long enough to discover the true joy of loving Him and each other with all our hearts. All too frequently, we instead make "worship day" either a dutiful requirement or an excuse to be equally busy with different things--and then squabble over who's right about what. Jesus regarded the legalistic Sabbath-keeping of His earthly days with sadness and anger; one can picture Him still shaking His head today because His people still don't "get it."
Loveless legalism and flippant disregard have their roots in the same problem: trying to define "how rest should work" solely by our own judgment. The Sabbath was intended as a day for us to get in tune with God's judgment, to take time to listen to Him and to absorb the teachings of the Spirit so we can learn to see things eternal as clearly as things temporal.
And to carry that sight into our daily work.
The dawning of the Lord's Day
Should bring us joy and peace:
Forgive us, God our Father,
When strivings do not cease,
And when we rush our worship
And squander what is best:
Give us a Sabbath Spirit,
That knows the way of rest!
The dawning of the Lord's Day
Should lift our hearts to praise:
Forgive us, God our Father,
When we choose selfish ways
And grumble over matters
Of prayers or music tone:
Give us a Sabbath Spirit,
That seeks Your will alone!
The dawning of the Lord's Day
Should bid us seek new heights:
Forgive us, God our Father,
When we chase selfish "rights,"
And help us yearn, wholehearted,
For all You hold in store:
Give us a Sabbath Spirit,
That craves to know You more!
Friday, October 14, 2011
Worship in the Times of Plenty
I'm no economist, but anyone not living on a remote island knows that these are hard times financially for more people than average. And I do know enough history to be convinced that one cause of economic downturns is the "get all you can while the getting's good" mentality that rises in times of prosperity.
While many people turn on God because their lives are miserable and He doesn't seem to be doing much about it, if anything we forget Him faster when we have little to complain about. When the Israelites first entered Canaan, God warned them that if they let their attention to the Law lapse, "...when you eat and are satisfied, when you build fine houses and settle down, and when your herds and flocks grow large and your silver and gold increase and all you have is multiplied, then your heart will become proud and you will forget the LORD your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery.... You may say to yourself, “My power and the strength of my hands have produced this wealth for me'” (Dt. 8:12-14, 17). Which, of course, was exactly what happened.
Hard times or easy, we all have a tendency to slip into seeing God primarily as a means of getting what we want rather than as the One Who deserves all we have to give. Learning to truly worship is hard work.
But oh, how worth the effort when we are freed from slavery to our circumstances!
Worship in the times of plenty:
Though you seem to have it all,
Don't forget: God gives the blessing,
Makes abundance rise and fall.
Worship in the times of hardship:
Though your blessings seem but few,
God still gives His glorious riches
Every day with mercies new.
Worship God in health and sickness;
Worship Him in peace and pain:
He is worthy of all praises;
Even loss, in Him, is gain.
While many people turn on God because their lives are miserable and He doesn't seem to be doing much about it, if anything we forget Him faster when we have little to complain about. When the Israelites first entered Canaan, God warned them that if they let their attention to the Law lapse, "...when you eat and are satisfied, when you build fine houses and settle down, and when your herds and flocks grow large and your silver and gold increase and all you have is multiplied, then your heart will become proud and you will forget the LORD your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery.... You may say to yourself, “My power and the strength of my hands have produced this wealth for me'” (Dt. 8:12-14, 17). Which, of course, was exactly what happened.
Hard times or easy, we all have a tendency to slip into seeing God primarily as a means of getting what we want rather than as the One Who deserves all we have to give. Learning to truly worship is hard work.
But oh, how worth the effort when we are freed from slavery to our circumstances!
Worship in the times of plenty:
Though you seem to have it all,
Don't forget: God gives the blessing,
Makes abundance rise and fall.
Worship in the times of hardship:
Though your blessings seem but few,
God still gives His glorious riches
Every day with mercies new.
Worship God in health and sickness;
Worship Him in peace and pain:
He is worthy of all praises;
Even loss, in Him, is gain.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
God, Our Holy Father
Today, I'm going to give you a break from scanning through paragraphs of prose--and myself a break from the compulsive and stressful habit of telling all I know--and let this praise-and-worship poem do most of the talking. It can be sung to the same tune as "Holy, Holy, Holy."
God, our Holy Father, Master, Creator,
In the early morning our praises rise to You;
Molder and Preserver, Maker and Sustainer,
Lord of the living, ever pure and true.
God, our Lord and Savior, Holy Redeemer,
As the day moves onward, we keep our eyes on You;
You alone are worthy; You are all we dream of,
Perfect, unblemished, loving, pure, and true.
God, our Guide and Comfort, ever all-knowing,
As the day is waning, we give our thanks to You;
You are ever with us, Power forever flowing,
Glorious and mighty, ever wise and true.
God, our Lord eternal, holy yet gentle,
When earth’s days are ended, we’ll still sing praise to You;
You are King forever, Heaven’s firm-standing Temple,
Through endless ages, faithful, strong, and true.
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
Our Father God, the Lord of All
Another "lyrics for a traditional hymn tune" poem (see entry for July 28), this one inspired by the tune "Mit Freuden Zart," to which is set the hymn "Sing Praise to God Who Reigns Above." Discerning readers will notice that my poem also follows the "Trinity" pattern used in another famous hymn, "Come, Thou Almighty King." That is, each of the first three verses praises one Person of the Holy Trinity, while the final verse praises the "Three in One" ("One in Three" in the "Almighty King" hymn).
Our God is a highly multifaceted God, which is one reason we writers never run out of new ways to talk about Him. All-powerful yet gentle and compassionate; the Bringer of avenging justice yet the Pardoner who willingly took the punishment for human wrongdoing; the One Who brings thunder and earthquake and yet (Is. 42:3 and Mt. 12:20) will not break a bruised reed. Many people think that the Old Testament God is "all justice" and the New Testament God is "all mercy." Anyone who reads the entire Bible will quickly see the fallacy in this idea.
Let's not be too quick, however, to criticize those who assert it. A one-sided view of God is a temptation any of us can fall prey to. Some Christians emphasize persecution to an extent that can leave us wondering if it's a sin to get through a day without being spat on; other Christians torment the suffering by insisting that God wants every believer to be healthy and wealthy and that those who aren't have only their own sin or lack of faith to blame. Some Christians assert "God hates the sexually impure" to an extent that not only makes enemies of those who don't wish to reform but discourages those who do from seeking God's help; other Christians lay such emphasis on God's grace that they tempt us to think He doesn't really care if we sin (cf. Rom. 6:1-2). With all of us, the temptation abounds to focus on those verses of Scripture we personally find "convenient" and to ignore the rest.
What we should be ignoring is any suggestion that God is either easy to figure out or in automatic support of our every opinion.
Our Father God, the Lord of All, reigns high above Creation,
The Lord of time, the Lord of space, the God of every nation;
His power and might no human mind can ever probe, nor see behind
The ways of our Foundation.
Our Savior God, the Son of Man, is Lord of all things living,
The Lord of love, the Lord of peace, His mercy freely giving;
His heart is warm, His heart is kind; He urges us to seek and find,
And sing to Him thanksgiving.
Our Leader God, the Comforter, is Heaven’s own strength within us,
The Lord of strength, the Lord of hope, the Lord Who woos to win us;
His power comes forth like burning fire; and in His strength we never tire,
For He is living in us.
The Lord of Lords, the Three in One, deserves all awe and wonder:
He lit the stars that brighten space; His voice speaks in the thunder;
Yet still He stooped to raise us high; and we, in Him, will never die,
We whom His love live under.
Our God is a highly multifaceted God, which is one reason we writers never run out of new ways to talk about Him. All-powerful yet gentle and compassionate; the Bringer of avenging justice yet the Pardoner who willingly took the punishment for human wrongdoing; the One Who brings thunder and earthquake and yet (Is. 42:3 and Mt. 12:20) will not break a bruised reed. Many people think that the Old Testament God is "all justice" and the New Testament God is "all mercy." Anyone who reads the entire Bible will quickly see the fallacy in this idea.
Let's not be too quick, however, to criticize those who assert it. A one-sided view of God is a temptation any of us can fall prey to. Some Christians emphasize persecution to an extent that can leave us wondering if it's a sin to get through a day without being spat on; other Christians torment the suffering by insisting that God wants every believer to be healthy and wealthy and that those who aren't have only their own sin or lack of faith to blame. Some Christians assert "God hates the sexually impure" to an extent that not only makes enemies of those who don't wish to reform but discourages those who do from seeking God's help; other Christians lay such emphasis on God's grace that they tempt us to think He doesn't really care if we sin (cf. Rom. 6:1-2). With all of us, the temptation abounds to focus on those verses of Scripture we personally find "convenient" and to ignore the rest.
What we should be ignoring is any suggestion that God is either easy to figure out or in automatic support of our every opinion.
Our Father God, the Lord of All, reigns high above Creation,
The Lord of time, the Lord of space, the God of every nation;
His power and might no human mind can ever probe, nor see behind
The ways of our Foundation.
Our Savior God, the Son of Man, is Lord of all things living,
The Lord of love, the Lord of peace, His mercy freely giving;
His heart is warm, His heart is kind; He urges us to seek and find,
And sing to Him thanksgiving.
Our Leader God, the Comforter, is Heaven’s own strength within us,
The Lord of strength, the Lord of hope, the Lord Who woos to win us;
His power comes forth like burning fire; and in His strength we never tire,
For He is living in us.
The Lord of Lords, the Three in One, deserves all awe and wonder:
He lit the stars that brighten space; His voice speaks in the thunder;
Yet still He stooped to raise us high; and we, in Him, will never die,
We whom His love live under.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Our God, Who Is One
Having already contributed several poems to my home church's quarterly newsletter, I recently gave the following selection to the music ministry with the suggestion it be sung to the tune "Lyons" (best known among traditional-hymn lovers as the tune used for "O Worship the King").
"Pure worship" songs are relatively rare these days. We thank God for His blessings; we even praise Him for what He has done for us; but we forget to praise Him solely for Who He is. The danger here is that we may be tempted to start thinking it's all about us. If we neglect to keep up the habit of pure praise when times are "good," it will be harder to remember that God is good when we hit those periods where everything seems to go wrong.
When God suddenly seems to toss aside all we expect of Him--when everything happening around us seems to contradict the idea that a good God even exists--do we decide we must have been self-deluded to ever trust Him? Or do we hang on to the solid Truth that "in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose" (Rom. 8:28, NIV)? The answer may depend on whether we were in the habit of looking at the "big picture"--God is all-knowing, God sees all things from beginning to end, God is so far above us that we can't hope to understand everything He does--or of thinking of His goodness and provision solely in relation to things we like to see happen. In the latter case, we may set ourselves up as accomplices in the murder of our own faith.
Granted, it's hard for the best of us to remember--really remember from our hearts--that God is still pure and caring and all-powerful when our lives are engulfed in tragedy. The book of Job is worth studying here. When the reverent and God-fearing Job was struck by disaster, his initial reaction was "The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away; may the name of the LORD be praised.... Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?" (Job 1:20; 2:10); but as his pain dragged on and his friends tormented him with accusations of bringing it on himself, his attitude began to dissolve into "why me?" complaining. Then, in chapters 38-41, God steps in to remind Job Who is in charge of the universe and how weak humans are in comparison. Although Job doesn't learn why he went through all he did, he does come to know God in a new way--which is ultimately enough.
God is not worthy of worship only because He gives us things that make us happy. He is worthy of worship because He is God.
Our God, Who is One, yet Three, for all time,
Is greater by far than grasp of the mind.
The One Who is worthy, Revealer of all,
Is building a Kingdom that never will fall.
He brought forth the world from out of the void;
He sent forth the Flood that cleaned and destroyed.
He chose His own people and gave them His Word;
He led them and fed them, and His voice was heard.
He spoke words that warned; He spoke words that healed,
That pardoned and judged, that blazed and revealed.
And when all seemed hopeless and lost in the night,
He sent the true Word to bring mortals His light.
He walked on this earth; He reached out in love;
He suffered and died to lift us above.
He came from the tomb--He was stronger than death--
Then sent forth fresh power by the wind of His breath.
He still sends His strength to all who believe,
With pardon and peace for those who receive.
His Presence within us, we do glorious things
Through gifts that the Spirit of Holiness brings.
The day soon will come--the time’s drawing near--
When He will return and drive out all fear.
His Kingdom, eternal, forever will stand,
And we will reign with Him in His glorious land.
"Pure worship" songs are relatively rare these days. We thank God for His blessings; we even praise Him for what He has done for us; but we forget to praise Him solely for Who He is. The danger here is that we may be tempted to start thinking it's all about us. If we neglect to keep up the habit of pure praise when times are "good," it will be harder to remember that God is good when we hit those periods where everything seems to go wrong.
When God suddenly seems to toss aside all we expect of Him--when everything happening around us seems to contradict the idea that a good God even exists--do we decide we must have been self-deluded to ever trust Him? Or do we hang on to the solid Truth that "in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose" (Rom. 8:28, NIV)? The answer may depend on whether we were in the habit of looking at the "big picture"--God is all-knowing, God sees all things from beginning to end, God is so far above us that we can't hope to understand everything He does--or of thinking of His goodness and provision solely in relation to things we like to see happen. In the latter case, we may set ourselves up as accomplices in the murder of our own faith.
Granted, it's hard for the best of us to remember--really remember from our hearts--that God is still pure and caring and all-powerful when our lives are engulfed in tragedy. The book of Job is worth studying here. When the reverent and God-fearing Job was struck by disaster, his initial reaction was "The LORD gave and the LORD has taken away; may the name of the LORD be praised.... Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?" (Job 1:20; 2:10); but as his pain dragged on and his friends tormented him with accusations of bringing it on himself, his attitude began to dissolve into "why me?" complaining. Then, in chapters 38-41, God steps in to remind Job Who is in charge of the universe and how weak humans are in comparison. Although Job doesn't learn why he went through all he did, he does come to know God in a new way--which is ultimately enough.
God is not worthy of worship only because He gives us things that make us happy. He is worthy of worship because He is God.
Our God, Who is One, yet Three, for all time,
Is greater by far than grasp of the mind.
The One Who is worthy, Revealer of all,
Is building a Kingdom that never will fall.
He brought forth the world from out of the void;
He sent forth the Flood that cleaned and destroyed.
He chose His own people and gave them His Word;
He led them and fed them, and His voice was heard.
He spoke words that warned; He spoke words that healed,
That pardoned and judged, that blazed and revealed.
And when all seemed hopeless and lost in the night,
He sent the true Word to bring mortals His light.
He walked on this earth; He reached out in love;
He suffered and died to lift us above.
He came from the tomb--He was stronger than death--
Then sent forth fresh power by the wind of His breath.
He still sends His strength to all who believe,
With pardon and peace for those who receive.
His Presence within us, we do glorious things
Through gifts that the Spirit of Holiness brings.
The day soon will come--the time’s drawing near--
When He will return and drive out all fear.
His Kingdom, eternal, forever will stand,
And we will reign with Him in His glorious land.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Come Worship the Lord
If God offered me a choice of any prayer request to be granted instantly, it would be that my mind be permanently freed from "fuming and fretting, worry and hurry." For me, that would be a greater miracle than the healing of an incurable cancer.
The worry-and-fret habit is something of a cancer in itself: it starts small and grows slowly; it's easy to ignore for a while despite warning signs; but if left unchecked, it becomes an all-pervasive nightmare slowly eating away health, energy, even life itself--and when we finally admit that something has to be done, it's nearly always a long, agonizing struggle to get rid of it. Because not only is instant healing as rare as it is wonderful, it almost always comes after the suffering has gone on for a while.
The "worry cancer" has another thing in common with its medical counterpart: when we develop such a problem, it's often largely our own fault. Those who smoke two packs of cigarettes a day are more likely to get lung cancer. Those who stuff themselves with junk food to the point of obesity are more likely to get cancer in their digestive systems. And those who constantly tell themselves "I can't live without this.... I couldn't live with that" are extremely likely to develop the fear-filled mind that is at the root of all fretful and frantic behavior. This is one "illness" that always includes an element of real sin; every worry is based to some degree in the fear of life's not going our way, which is really idolatry--the placing of our own desires at the top of the priority list and the refusal to believe that God can and will do what is best for us. (See Mt. 6:25-34.)
I'm not unsympathetic with those who, whether through natural temperament or the temptations of unusually painful or stressful lives, are more prone than others to develop the worry habit--I have a redwood-sized log in my own eye there. I have, however, learned enough to know that our eyes are a big part of the problem. Remember that, immediately before the "do not worry" passage referenced above, comes the one about not hoarding earthly treasures, about not trying to serve worldly masters along with God--and about focusing our spiritual eyes to let in light rather than darkness? Because the truth is that it's impossible to worry if we are really looking at God and His attributes--His love, power, beauty, and majesty--but most of us prefer the narrow, close-up focus on our immediate circumstances.
The best cure for worry is to spend more time, not only asking God for help, but praising Him for what He is and thanking Him for the things He has done and the things He has promised. Which is why I have devoted this week's poem to worship and adoration.
Come worship the Lord, and give Him your praise--
The Master of time; the Maker of days.
He had no beginning; He will have no end;
And all living things on His nurture depend.
Come worship the Lord, Who stretched out the skies,
Who made every thing that walks, swims, or flies.
He laid out the ocean; He brought forth the land;
And every green thing draws its growth from His hand.
Come worship the Lord, Who leads us in love:
Outlasting all time, He reigns from above.
Earth's empires, though mighty, will pass with the years;
But God's Heavenly Rule outlasts all mortal spheres.
Come worship the Lord, Who sits above all
As King on a throne that never can fall.
Though all lesser powers stand opposed to His reign,
His Power over all shall one day be made plain.
Come worship the Lord, and bow to His rule;
Do not scorn His power and stand with the fool,
Nor serve Him unwillingly, bitter with dread;
But choose Him in love and proclaim Him as Head.
Come worship the Lord: for all of His might,
His touch is so soft, His pressure so light.
Our God is no tyrant abusing His power;
No, He plans our lives with great blessings to shower.
Come worship the Lord; rejoice in His love:
Delight in the peace He sends from above.
When His Kingdom comes, at the end of all days,
At last we shall know the full joy of His praise.
The worry-and-fret habit is something of a cancer in itself: it starts small and grows slowly; it's easy to ignore for a while despite warning signs; but if left unchecked, it becomes an all-pervasive nightmare slowly eating away health, energy, even life itself--and when we finally admit that something has to be done, it's nearly always a long, agonizing struggle to get rid of it. Because not only is instant healing as rare as it is wonderful, it almost always comes after the suffering has gone on for a while.
The "worry cancer" has another thing in common with its medical counterpart: when we develop such a problem, it's often largely our own fault. Those who smoke two packs of cigarettes a day are more likely to get lung cancer. Those who stuff themselves with junk food to the point of obesity are more likely to get cancer in their digestive systems. And those who constantly tell themselves "I can't live without this.... I couldn't live with that" are extremely likely to develop the fear-filled mind that is at the root of all fretful and frantic behavior. This is one "illness" that always includes an element of real sin; every worry is based to some degree in the fear of life's not going our way, which is really idolatry--the placing of our own desires at the top of the priority list and the refusal to believe that God can and will do what is best for us. (See Mt. 6:25-34.)
I'm not unsympathetic with those who, whether through natural temperament or the temptations of unusually painful or stressful lives, are more prone than others to develop the worry habit--I have a redwood-sized log in my own eye there. I have, however, learned enough to know that our eyes are a big part of the problem. Remember that, immediately before the "do not worry" passage referenced above, comes the one about not hoarding earthly treasures, about not trying to serve worldly masters along with God--and about focusing our spiritual eyes to let in light rather than darkness? Because the truth is that it's impossible to worry if we are really looking at God and His attributes--His love, power, beauty, and majesty--but most of us prefer the narrow, close-up focus on our immediate circumstances.
The best cure for worry is to spend more time, not only asking God for help, but praising Him for what He is and thanking Him for the things He has done and the things He has promised. Which is why I have devoted this week's poem to worship and adoration.
Come worship the Lord, and give Him your praise--
The Master of time; the Maker of days.
He had no beginning; He will have no end;
And all living things on His nurture depend.
Come worship the Lord, Who stretched out the skies,
Who made every thing that walks, swims, or flies.
He laid out the ocean; He brought forth the land;
And every green thing draws its growth from His hand.
Come worship the Lord, Who leads us in love:
Outlasting all time, He reigns from above.
Earth's empires, though mighty, will pass with the years;
But God's Heavenly Rule outlasts all mortal spheres.
Come worship the Lord, Who sits above all
As King on a throne that never can fall.
Though all lesser powers stand opposed to His reign,
His Power over all shall one day be made plain.
Come worship the Lord, and bow to His rule;
Do not scorn His power and stand with the fool,
Nor serve Him unwillingly, bitter with dread;
But choose Him in love and proclaim Him as Head.
Come worship the Lord: for all of His might,
His touch is so soft, His pressure so light.
Our God is no tyrant abusing His power;
No, He plans our lives with great blessings to shower.
Come worship the Lord; rejoice in His love:
Delight in the peace He sends from above.
When His Kingdom comes, at the end of all days,
At last we shall know the full joy of His praise.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Whirlwind
Starting with Noah's flood, forty-day time periods seem to have special significance in the Bible. Moses, Elijah, and Jesus all are recorded in Scripture as having spent "forty days" in fasting and solitude; and their examples have inspired thousands of Christians since to choose the same time frame for periods of growing closer to God.
Beginning last month and ending this morning, I recently tried a self-designed "40 days" program of my own. It was nothing particularly intense, certainly not comparable to spending the whole time in the wilderness without food or water or human contact; it simply involved taking an hour a day for meditating to worship music. Nonetheless, I couldn't even exercise that degree of self-discipline with much consistency; as far as I could tell, my mind was wandering as far at the end of the period as the beginning, and I was making as little effort (and feeling as little desire) to fight it as ever. Rather than feeling significantly closer to God for the experience, I feel a heavy sense of "you'll never change" discouragement.
I suppose I was hoping for a "quantum leap" (the literal meaning of which, ironically enough, is a large movement only on the atomic scale) that would change me from a compulsive fretter into the epitome of constant serenity and joy. Looking at myself honestly, I have to admit that my desire to develop these Christlike qualities is highly tainted, motivated at least as much by just hating to feel miserable as by genuine love for God. I suffer (in more ways than one) from what the Bible calls double-mindedness or trying to serve two masters: I want to be close to God, but at the same time am constantly worrying that He'll make me revise my plans or abandon my favorite pastimes. James 1:5-8 describes the "double-minded" as constantly swayed by circumstances, unstable in everything they do, and hardly able to receive what God wants to give them: that's me all right.
Part of the problem is that city life in the Internet age carries more mental distractions than any other setting the human race has ever lived in. Everywhere we turn, something or someone reminds us of books not yet read, projects not yet started, possessions not yet acquired, honors not yet achieved, things we never knew before. The typical high school sophomore's brain today is probably crammed with a hundred times as much information as the typical fifteenth-century person came into contact with in sixty years. It's hard to be single-minded when a world of input is constantly tugging at your mind from all sides.
Would I have done better on the "40-day program" had I spent it in a country cottage without phone or Internet access? I don't know--and on my current budget and schedule, it would hardly have been feasible to try. In any case, it takes more than just physical withdrawal from worldly concerns to ensure spiritual growth. Some people have tried to "get away from the whole world" physically and have failed because they carried too much of the world inside themselves, or kept counting the days to their return. Others have managed to achieve a surprising level of inner peace even as they physically remained in the same hectic world as the rest of us, or even in prisons or refugee camps with little chance of escape.
If nothing else, I have come to a somewhat better understanding of my human limitations and of God's patience with them. Most of us think of ourselves as not exactly perfect, but as pretty good nonetheless--until we start trying to really change. Ironically, it's the best among us--the most spiritually mature--who most willingly admit that "nothing good lives in me" (Rom. 7:18, NIV, emphasis added). The closer we get to God, the more we appreciate how utterly worthless we are in ourselves and how gracious He is even to put up with us. The more we realize this, the more humble and worshipful--the more joyful and peaceful--we become.
And the more we come to understand that forty days of prayer and fasting, while wonderful in its place, is not a prescription to "solve all our emotional problems for good." Truly learning to "be still and know... God" (Ps. 46:10) takes a lifetime.
We spend all our lives chasing shadows
With names like Success and Complete,
Tormented by windstorms of fretting
And fleeing from fear of defeat.
Our schedules are flurries of "must-dos"
All jostling for head of the line;
We scramble to pick up the pieces
And weep for the ones we can't find.
Our goals are the breaths that we gasp for;
Our tasks nag like dust in the eye;
And still the whole world spins around us
Till it just seems hopeless to try.
But we are our own worst tormentors:
We, who are unwilling to rest
Until we have "finished" our "duties,"
Until we achieve all the "best."
God whispers, "Stop striving, and know Me;
Come, sit by My side for a while;
Let Me give a weight you can carry;
Please, open your eyes to My smile.
Stop fretting for life's worldly treasures;
Your greatest reward is in Me."
My friend, He has peace and rest for us,
If we are just willing to see!
Beginning last month and ending this morning, I recently tried a self-designed "40 days" program of my own. It was nothing particularly intense, certainly not comparable to spending the whole time in the wilderness without food or water or human contact; it simply involved taking an hour a day for meditating to worship music. Nonetheless, I couldn't even exercise that degree of self-discipline with much consistency; as far as I could tell, my mind was wandering as far at the end of the period as the beginning, and I was making as little effort (and feeling as little desire) to fight it as ever. Rather than feeling significantly closer to God for the experience, I feel a heavy sense of "you'll never change" discouragement.
I suppose I was hoping for a "quantum leap" (the literal meaning of which, ironically enough, is a large movement only on the atomic scale) that would change me from a compulsive fretter into the epitome of constant serenity and joy. Looking at myself honestly, I have to admit that my desire to develop these Christlike qualities is highly tainted, motivated at least as much by just hating to feel miserable as by genuine love for God. I suffer (in more ways than one) from what the Bible calls double-mindedness or trying to serve two masters: I want to be close to God, but at the same time am constantly worrying that He'll make me revise my plans or abandon my favorite pastimes. James 1:5-8 describes the "double-minded" as constantly swayed by circumstances, unstable in everything they do, and hardly able to receive what God wants to give them: that's me all right.
Part of the problem is that city life in the Internet age carries more mental distractions than any other setting the human race has ever lived in. Everywhere we turn, something or someone reminds us of books not yet read, projects not yet started, possessions not yet acquired, honors not yet achieved, things we never knew before. The typical high school sophomore's brain today is probably crammed with a hundred times as much information as the typical fifteenth-century person came into contact with in sixty years. It's hard to be single-minded when a world of input is constantly tugging at your mind from all sides.
Would I have done better on the "40-day program" had I spent it in a country cottage without phone or Internet access? I don't know--and on my current budget and schedule, it would hardly have been feasible to try. In any case, it takes more than just physical withdrawal from worldly concerns to ensure spiritual growth. Some people have tried to "get away from the whole world" physically and have failed because they carried too much of the world inside themselves, or kept counting the days to their return. Others have managed to achieve a surprising level of inner peace even as they physically remained in the same hectic world as the rest of us, or even in prisons or refugee camps with little chance of escape.
If nothing else, I have come to a somewhat better understanding of my human limitations and of God's patience with them. Most of us think of ourselves as not exactly perfect, but as pretty good nonetheless--until we start trying to really change. Ironically, it's the best among us--the most spiritually mature--who most willingly admit that "nothing good lives in me" (Rom. 7:18, NIV, emphasis added). The closer we get to God, the more we appreciate how utterly worthless we are in ourselves and how gracious He is even to put up with us. The more we realize this, the more humble and worshipful--the more joyful and peaceful--we become.
And the more we come to understand that forty days of prayer and fasting, while wonderful in its place, is not a prescription to "solve all our emotional problems for good." Truly learning to "be still and know... God" (Ps. 46:10) takes a lifetime.
We spend all our lives chasing shadows
With names like Success and Complete,
Tormented by windstorms of fretting
And fleeing from fear of defeat.
Our schedules are flurries of "must-dos"
All jostling for head of the line;
We scramble to pick up the pieces
And weep for the ones we can't find.
Our goals are the breaths that we gasp for;
Our tasks nag like dust in the eye;
And still the whole world spins around us
Till it just seems hopeless to try.
But we are our own worst tormentors:
We, who are unwilling to rest
Until we have "finished" our "duties,"
Until we achieve all the "best."
God whispers, "Stop striving, and know Me;
Come, sit by My side for a while;
Let Me give a weight you can carry;
Please, open your eyes to My smile.
Stop fretting for life's worldly treasures;
Your greatest reward is in Me."
My friend, He has peace and rest for us,
If we are just willing to see!
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
Who Can Forget Those Moments?
We all have certain memories so intense that, even decades later, our minds can see them as clearly as in the moment they happened. Some are a pleasure to relive: a brilliant sunrise or rainbow; a clear night in the country; a first kiss; the best birthday present ever. But there are equally vivid memories that we wish came with "Delete" buttons: a roomful of classmates taunting "Stupid, ugly loser!"; words of cold contempt from a youthful love interest; an employer's angry scolding in front of half the office.
The actual events may or may not have been particularly significant overall. But they all have one thing in common: they are accompanied by intense emotion. Apparently the human brain is so wired that vivid feelings trigger "burning" of accompanying events into the conscious memory--not a function without practical use. A moment of intense fear or guilt may well "leave a mark" that keeps a person from doing some foolish thing a second time.
But most negative memories have less-than-positive aftereffects. Many people live under a constant burden of guilt for past mistakes, convinced they have permanently rendered themselves unfit to accomplish anything worthwhile. Even positive memories can have negative effects; there are people who waste decades of present moments trying to recapture, or brooding over the loss of, some moment now past. The mid-life affair with someone who "makes me feel young again"; the post-bereavement mourning and seclusion that drags on for years; the endless complaining that "nothing ever measures up" to a "past perfect" experience--all are examples.
The Bible has a lot to say about "right" and "wrong" remembering. "Remember that you were slaves in Egypt and that the LORD your God brought you out of there with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm," Moses exhorted the Israelites (Dt. 5:15, NIV). "I will remember the deeds of the LORD; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago," sang the Psalmist Asaph (Ps. 77:11). Conversely, Paul speaks of "forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead" (Phil. 3:13), and God Himself says of His repentant people, "I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more" (Heb. 8:12). It seems that God would have us remember the good He has done--and forget the evil we and others have done.
Doing the first item is actually key to overcoming our frequently intense difficulties with the second. While we may never completely rid our minds of troublesome memories, we can displace unpleasant thoughts from the center of constant attention by bringing better ones to the forefront. And a good place to start, when it comes to burning the good memories firmly into our brains, is to make a list of God's blessings--past, present, and future. If anyone has trouble, rereading the Bible with an eye out for God's promises and expressions of love should help.
One thing worth always remembering is not to take our all-powerful, all-caring, all-sufficient God for granted.
Who can forget those moments
When joy runs deep and pure:
An evening with a loved one;
Days when success is sure;
A view of gentle beauty;
A shining touch of light:
Who can forget those moments
When everything is right?
Who can forget those moments
When pain stabs sharp and strong:
An agonizing illness;
Some great unpunished wrong;
A mocking word of anger;
A graveyard in the rain:
Who can forget those moments
When all seems grief and pain?
Who can forget those moments
When God is clearly seen:
A rainbow, or a flower;
The springtime's budding green;
A stirring note of music:
Think on what God has given,
And take time to remember
Those moments sweet with Heaven.
The actual events may or may not have been particularly significant overall. But they all have one thing in common: they are accompanied by intense emotion. Apparently the human brain is so wired that vivid feelings trigger "burning" of accompanying events into the conscious memory--not a function without practical use. A moment of intense fear or guilt may well "leave a mark" that keeps a person from doing some foolish thing a second time.
But most negative memories have less-than-positive aftereffects. Many people live under a constant burden of guilt for past mistakes, convinced they have permanently rendered themselves unfit to accomplish anything worthwhile. Even positive memories can have negative effects; there are people who waste decades of present moments trying to recapture, or brooding over the loss of, some moment now past. The mid-life affair with someone who "makes me feel young again"; the post-bereavement mourning and seclusion that drags on for years; the endless complaining that "nothing ever measures up" to a "past perfect" experience--all are examples.
The Bible has a lot to say about "right" and "wrong" remembering. "Remember that you were slaves in Egypt and that the LORD your God brought you out of there with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm," Moses exhorted the Israelites (Dt. 5:15, NIV). "I will remember the deeds of the LORD; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago," sang the Psalmist Asaph (Ps. 77:11). Conversely, Paul speaks of "forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead" (Phil. 3:13), and God Himself says of His repentant people, "I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more" (Heb. 8:12). It seems that God would have us remember the good He has done--and forget the evil we and others have done.
Doing the first item is actually key to overcoming our frequently intense difficulties with the second. While we may never completely rid our minds of troublesome memories, we can displace unpleasant thoughts from the center of constant attention by bringing better ones to the forefront. And a good place to start, when it comes to burning the good memories firmly into our brains, is to make a list of God's blessings--past, present, and future. If anyone has trouble, rereading the Bible with an eye out for God's promises and expressions of love should help.
One thing worth always remembering is not to take our all-powerful, all-caring, all-sufficient God for granted.
Who can forget those moments
When joy runs deep and pure:
An evening with a loved one;
Days when success is sure;
A view of gentle beauty;
A shining touch of light:
Who can forget those moments
When everything is right?
Who can forget those moments
When pain stabs sharp and strong:
An agonizing illness;
Some great unpunished wrong;
A mocking word of anger;
A graveyard in the rain:
Who can forget those moments
When all seems grief and pain?
Who can forget those moments
When God is clearly seen:
A rainbow, or a flower;
The springtime's budding green;
A stirring note of music:
Think on what God has given,
And take time to remember
Those moments sweet with Heaven.
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
The Day After Easter
Okay, so technically it's the second day after Easter--but maybe it's even more important now, after we've had all of Monday since the clothes were brand new and the ham and eggs freshly cooked, to remember that celebrating the Resurrection was never meant to be a once-a-year event. We joke about "holiday Christians" who appear at church only on Easter morning and Christmas Eve, but it's not really funny that so many professed believers find worship and fellowship worth no more time than that.
No doubt some such people don't really believe at all; there are those who, though they state outright that it's ridiculous to believe anyone could rise from the dead, continue to attend church on Easter because their families always did it that way. Many other people believe in the Resurrection as a fact of history, yet treat it merely as interesting trivia. Probably the latter are more offensive to God than those who laugh at the whole idea; Scripture's most virulent scoldings are reserved for self-satisfied "religious" types. The NIV uses the word "lukewarm" only once--directed in Rev. 3:16 at church members who lived in blissful ignorance of their failings--and Jesus's reaction (paraphrased) is, "You make Me want to throw up!"
Who could call such a statement unreasonable, considering all He did to give us the best that Heaven could offer? And not just in paying the penalty of our sin for us. Certainly that was infinitely more than we had any right to expect, and required courage and compassion beyond our power to imagine; yet, if that were all He had meant to accomplish, He might have gone straight to Heaven from the Cross. His returning bodily from the grave offered final proof He had conquered death; but I believe its purpose went further than that. By showing Himself revived and revitalized, He was saying to His followers, "As I received new life after death, so I mean for you to receive new power to live in Me after your death to sin. You no longer have to be slaves to old habits, lost in apathy and hopelessness." We can experience eternal life now--not just after physical death--if we are willing to live in constant awareness of Christ's Resurrection. But we need to refresh that awareness far more often than annually.
If you're determined not to believe in the Resurrection, it's silly to go to church even on Easter. If you do believe, it's even more ridiculous to stay home the rest of the year.
The day after Easter,
The eggs all found,
The ham eaten up,
The flowers taken down,
The baskets now emptied,
Church services through,
Will you still remember
What Christ did for you?
The day after Easter,
When your new clothes
Have been broken in
Down to your shoes' toes,
And the fresh-cut lilies
Are starting to fade,
Will you still remember
The price our Lord paid?
No more than forgiveness
Or love or tear
Can just sit and wait
To act once a year--
No more than our sinning
Can stall from taint's grime--
Can true belief's worship
Be saved "till it's time."
The day after Easter,
And all our days,
Let us walk with God
In prayer and in praise:
The spirit of Easter,
In lives made brand new,
And our thanks to Jesus,
Must flow the year through!
No doubt some such people don't really believe at all; there are those who, though they state outright that it's ridiculous to believe anyone could rise from the dead, continue to attend church on Easter because their families always did it that way. Many other people believe in the Resurrection as a fact of history, yet treat it merely as interesting trivia. Probably the latter are more offensive to God than those who laugh at the whole idea; Scripture's most virulent scoldings are reserved for self-satisfied "religious" types. The NIV uses the word "lukewarm" only once--directed in Rev. 3:16 at church members who lived in blissful ignorance of their failings--and Jesus's reaction (paraphrased) is, "You make Me want to throw up!"
Who could call such a statement unreasonable, considering all He did to give us the best that Heaven could offer? And not just in paying the penalty of our sin for us. Certainly that was infinitely more than we had any right to expect, and required courage and compassion beyond our power to imagine; yet, if that were all He had meant to accomplish, He might have gone straight to Heaven from the Cross. His returning bodily from the grave offered final proof He had conquered death; but I believe its purpose went further than that. By showing Himself revived and revitalized, He was saying to His followers, "As I received new life after death, so I mean for you to receive new power to live in Me after your death to sin. You no longer have to be slaves to old habits, lost in apathy and hopelessness." We can experience eternal life now--not just after physical death--if we are willing to live in constant awareness of Christ's Resurrection. But we need to refresh that awareness far more often than annually.
If you're determined not to believe in the Resurrection, it's silly to go to church even on Easter. If you do believe, it's even more ridiculous to stay home the rest of the year.
The day after Easter,
The eggs all found,
The ham eaten up,
The flowers taken down,
The baskets now emptied,
Church services through,
Will you still remember
What Christ did for you?
The day after Easter,
When your new clothes
Have been broken in
Down to your shoes' toes,
And the fresh-cut lilies
Are starting to fade,
Will you still remember
The price our Lord paid?
No more than forgiveness
Or love or tear
Can just sit and wait
To act once a year--
No more than our sinning
Can stall from taint's grime--
Can true belief's worship
Be saved "till it's time."
The day after Easter,
And all our days,
Let us walk with God
In prayer and in praise:
The spirit of Easter,
In lives made brand new,
And our thanks to Jesus,
Must flow the year through!
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
All Earth Sings
What is your favorite song? A classic hymn? A modern pop piece? An old Christmas carol? I'd personally be hard-pressed to name a single favorite, or even make a top ten list. A lifetime of church music, radio, and various concerts has permanently imprinted dozens of much-loved songs in my brain.
Virtually every culture includes song among its traditions. There's something about the blending of music and poetry that infiltrates both sides of the brain and sinks deep into heart and soul. And for all the worries about "angry songs" that stir listeners to rebellious attitudes and outright violence, spontaneous singing is still associated primarily with happiness.
Of all the ways we reflect God's image, our love of song may be the most profound. Zeph. 3:17 (NIV) says that God "rejoice[s] over" us "with singing," so our longing to give the same to Him only makes sense. The NIV uses the word "sing" and its close derivatives (sang/singing/song) over three hundred times, mostly in reference to worship. Metaphorically speaking at least, even Creation sings, and not just through birds; even "the mountains and hills will burst into song" (Is. 55:12) when we open ourselves to our Lord's voice.
If we allow ourselves to regard God's works with the awe He deserves, we may soon find ourselves singing along.
The robin sings in the morning,
Sings to welcome the coming day:
All earth sings to the God of sunrise,
Who chases the darkness away.
The river sings in the daytime,
Sings as swiftly along it flows:
All earth sings to the God of sunlight,
As, shining, the waterway glows.
The breezes sing in the evening,
Calling workers to come and rest:
All earth sings to the God of sunset,
Who stretched out the sky east to west.
The raindrops sing in the nighttime,
Lulling all into peaceful sleep:
All earth sings to the God of Heaven,
Who soothes us when darkness grows deep.
The bluebird sings in the sunlight,
And the owl calls out to the moon:
All earth sings through the day- and nighttime--
And calls us to join in its tune.
Virtually every culture includes song among its traditions. There's something about the blending of music and poetry that infiltrates both sides of the brain and sinks deep into heart and soul. And for all the worries about "angry songs" that stir listeners to rebellious attitudes and outright violence, spontaneous singing is still associated primarily with happiness.
Of all the ways we reflect God's image, our love of song may be the most profound. Zeph. 3:17 (NIV) says that God "rejoice[s] over" us "with singing," so our longing to give the same to Him only makes sense. The NIV uses the word "sing" and its close derivatives (sang/singing/song) over three hundred times, mostly in reference to worship. Metaphorically speaking at least, even Creation sings, and not just through birds; even "the mountains and hills will burst into song" (Is. 55:12) when we open ourselves to our Lord's voice.
If we allow ourselves to regard God's works with the awe He deserves, we may soon find ourselves singing along.
The robin sings in the morning,
Sings to welcome the coming day:
All earth sings to the God of sunrise,
Who chases the darkness away.
The river sings in the daytime,
Sings as swiftly along it flows:
All earth sings to the God of sunlight,
As, shining, the waterway glows.
The breezes sing in the evening,
Calling workers to come and rest:
All earth sings to the God of sunset,
Who stretched out the sky east to west.
The raindrops sing in the nighttime,
Lulling all into peaceful sleep:
All earth sings to the God of Heaven,
Who soothes us when darkness grows deep.
The bluebird sings in the sunlight,
And the owl calls out to the moon:
All earth sings through the day- and nighttime--
And calls us to join in its tune.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Daybreak
Upon awakening in the morning, how do you greet the new day? Do you get up eagerly, praising God for the new opportunities He has waiting for you? Or is your first thought, "Oh, no, do I have to get out of bed?"
I'm not talking about "early birds" versus "night owls." Although the latter may start the day as grouches when forced to conform to 8-5 schedules, when self-employed or on weekend time they may well bounce straight out of bed upon first awakening (even if that's at noon). On the other hand, some people are ready to drop by 10 p.m. on Saturday night and nonetheless spend twenty minutes convincing themselves to get up after a full eight hours' sleep. I frequently fit into the latter category--a natural "morning person" who nonetheless greets the morning with dread rather than joy.
Such cases are rare among children, who are usually out of bed and raring to go the second their eyes open. It's the physically mature among us who tend to see the average day as bringing in not endless possibilities, but drudgery, futility, and reminders of dreams we never expect to fulfill. No wonder it's so tempting to hide under the covers and wish the morning would go away.
Perhaps it's as an antidote that most experts recommend morning for "quiet times." If remembering God is our first priority of the day--chronologically as well as in terms of importance--we're more likely to see the day with His clearer vision. Provided we approach quiet time with the right attitude: starting with praise; asking (with a genuine ear for the answer) what God would have us do; and only requesting strength to face our duty after we remind ourselves that He never sends anyone to do anything without providing strength for the task.
Those stuck in I-dread-getting-up ruts might benefit from memorizing and daily reciting Lam. 3:22-23:
"Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness" (NIV, emphasis added).
In the morning twilight,
Just before the day
Comes in all its brilliance,
Chasing stars away,
Now, before the hustle
Of our work begins,
Now we ask, our Father:
Keep our ways from sins.
As the sun is rising,
As each sleeper wakes,
Some will get up groaning,
Dreading all it takes:
But let us, God's children,
Greet the day with joy,
Glad to serve our Master,
Strong in His employ.
As the dark is fading,
As the sunlight spreads,
Let us start each morning,
As we leave our beds,
With a time of worship,
Strengthening for the day,
That our Father's blessing
Send us on the way.
I'm not talking about "early birds" versus "night owls." Although the latter may start the day as grouches when forced to conform to 8-5 schedules, when self-employed or on weekend time they may well bounce straight out of bed upon first awakening (even if that's at noon). On the other hand, some people are ready to drop by 10 p.m. on Saturday night and nonetheless spend twenty minutes convincing themselves to get up after a full eight hours' sleep. I frequently fit into the latter category--a natural "morning person" who nonetheless greets the morning with dread rather than joy.
Such cases are rare among children, who are usually out of bed and raring to go the second their eyes open. It's the physically mature among us who tend to see the average day as bringing in not endless possibilities, but drudgery, futility, and reminders of dreams we never expect to fulfill. No wonder it's so tempting to hide under the covers and wish the morning would go away.
Perhaps it's as an antidote that most experts recommend morning for "quiet times." If remembering God is our first priority of the day--chronologically as well as in terms of importance--we're more likely to see the day with His clearer vision. Provided we approach quiet time with the right attitude: starting with praise; asking (with a genuine ear for the answer) what God would have us do; and only requesting strength to face our duty after we remind ourselves that He never sends anyone to do anything without providing strength for the task.
Those stuck in I-dread-getting-up ruts might benefit from memorizing and daily reciting Lam. 3:22-23:
"Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness" (NIV, emphasis added).
In the morning twilight,
Just before the day
Comes in all its brilliance,
Chasing stars away,
Now, before the hustle
Of our work begins,
Now we ask, our Father:
Keep our ways from sins.
As the sun is rising,
As each sleeper wakes,
Some will get up groaning,
Dreading all it takes:
But let us, God's children,
Greet the day with joy,
Glad to serve our Master,
Strong in His employ.
As the dark is fading,
As the sunlight spreads,
Let us start each morning,
As we leave our beds,
With a time of worship,
Strengthening for the day,
That our Father's blessing
Send us on the way.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Lost in Praise
Have you ever worshiped God so completely that for the moment nothing else matters? Much Christian "worship" is so monotone and unemotional that outsiders and insiders alike joke about the "frozen chosen." There is no shortage of church services where a single spontaneous "Hallelujah!" would get a person thrown out for creating a disturbance. One such person is said to have protested, "But I was just rejoicing that I've found the Lord!"
The usher replied, "Well, I'm sure you didn't find Him here!" Indeed, one wonders if God is as bored by some church services as the congregants apparently are.
Whatever the origin of the idea that worship must be super-dignified, it isn't recent. In 2 Samuel 6:13-22, King David was so full of praise for God that he expressed it physically, dancing about "with all his might" (v. 14, NIV). Latter-day disco dancers and break dancers probably could have shown no less enthusiasm. Presumably God was pleased; but not everyone was. When David got home from the celebration, his wife greeted him with a sarcastic scolding for his "vulgar" behavior.
Even if our temperaments or church traditions aren't conducive to exuberant physical worship, surely we can occasionally allow God's greatness and all He has done for us to overcome us with awe and gratitude. Too few of us regularly know the joy of becoming so lost in prayer or song that minutes and hours fly past unnoticed; we're more likely to keep checking our watches and to grumble if the sermon doesn't end on schedule.
If we find ourselves regarding church and Bible reading as dull obligations, and our prayer lives are virtually nonexistent, maybe it's because we are in effect hearing God's Word with deaf ears. Have "God created the heavens and the earth" and "Jesus laid down His life for us" become mere religious cliches in our indifferent brains; or do we ever stop to consider how wonderful such truths really are? Those who not only read Scripture, but make its real meaning the primary focus of their thought lives (cf. Ps. 1:2-3), rarely find worship boring or difficult.
In Heaven, we will worship God forever--and enjoy every bit of it. Why not start practicing right now?
To sing the songs of pure praise of God
And to lose yourself in the joy;
To pray with no sense of the passing hours,
And no wandering thoughts to annoy;
To set aside even your pet concerns,
And to see only God Himself:
This is surely to worship in spirit and truth,
To seek God and forget all else.
But weak mortal minds will fall ever short
Of the Heavenly realms' ideal;
Some earthly concern always will intrude,
And diminish our spirits' zeal.
It is only through Christ and His holy blood,
That was spilled for our own poor sake,
That we ever can hope to behold our Lord,
And of worship to Him partake.
So fill up your mind with His Holy Word
And be ever seeking His will;
Think on His great works and His mighty deeds;
Bid your wandering thoughts be still;
And remember above every other thing:
It was He alone Who found you,
So place none of your faith in your own soul's strength,
But in He Who alone is true!
The usher replied, "Well, I'm sure you didn't find Him here!" Indeed, one wonders if God is as bored by some church services as the congregants apparently are.
Whatever the origin of the idea that worship must be super-dignified, it isn't recent. In 2 Samuel 6:13-22, King David was so full of praise for God that he expressed it physically, dancing about "with all his might" (v. 14, NIV). Latter-day disco dancers and break dancers probably could have shown no less enthusiasm. Presumably God was pleased; but not everyone was. When David got home from the celebration, his wife greeted him with a sarcastic scolding for his "vulgar" behavior.
Even if our temperaments or church traditions aren't conducive to exuberant physical worship, surely we can occasionally allow God's greatness and all He has done for us to overcome us with awe and gratitude. Too few of us regularly know the joy of becoming so lost in prayer or song that minutes and hours fly past unnoticed; we're more likely to keep checking our watches and to grumble if the sermon doesn't end on schedule.
If we find ourselves regarding church and Bible reading as dull obligations, and our prayer lives are virtually nonexistent, maybe it's because we are in effect hearing God's Word with deaf ears. Have "God created the heavens and the earth" and "Jesus laid down His life for us" become mere religious cliches in our indifferent brains; or do we ever stop to consider how wonderful such truths really are? Those who not only read Scripture, but make its real meaning the primary focus of their thought lives (cf. Ps. 1:2-3), rarely find worship boring or difficult.
In Heaven, we will worship God forever--and enjoy every bit of it. Why not start practicing right now?
To sing the songs of pure praise of God
And to lose yourself in the joy;
To pray with no sense of the passing hours,
And no wandering thoughts to annoy;
To set aside even your pet concerns,
And to see only God Himself:
This is surely to worship in spirit and truth,
To seek God and forget all else.
But weak mortal minds will fall ever short
Of the Heavenly realms' ideal;
Some earthly concern always will intrude,
And diminish our spirits' zeal.
It is only through Christ and His holy blood,
That was spilled for our own poor sake,
That we ever can hope to behold our Lord,
And of worship to Him partake.
So fill up your mind with His Holy Word
And be ever seeking His will;
Think on His great works and His mighty deeds;
Bid your wandering thoughts be still;
And remember above every other thing:
It was He alone Who found you,
So place none of your faith in your own soul's strength,
But in He Who alone is true!
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
The Song of Sevens
Not that I want to slip into superstition about "lucky" or "magic" numbers, but the recurrence of certain numbers in Scripture does suggest that God has some fondness for them. Take the number forty, for instance: it rained forty days in the time of Noah (Gen. 7:11-12); Moses spent forty days on Mount Sinai (Ex. 24:18); the Israelites spent forty years in the wilderness (Ex. 16:35, among other passages); and Jesus fasted forty days before His temptation (Mt. 4:1-2). Or consider the twelve tribes of Israel; twelve apostles; and twelve foundations and twelve gates of the Heavenly Jerusalem.
One number that appears in several significant Bible passages is a number that has acquired a general reputation for being lucky: seven. To the class of super-logical mathematicians (where I admittedly hold no membership), seven might seem a strange number to honor: it is neither small enough to be a basic unit like a two or a three, nor evenly divisible into any smaller units besides ones; and few extensively used larger numbers can be divided evenly by seven (even the seventy years traditionally estimated for the human life span now seems lost to an era of greater longevity). Why does seven, rather than a rounder figure like six or ten, so often seem to represent perfection in Scripture: seven days in the week; seven years of work for Jacob to marry each of his wives; seven days (ending in seven circuits around the city, led by seven priests) to bring about the fall of Jericho; seven deacons in the early Church?
Maybe I'm being whimsical here--and I definitely don't presume to be reading God's mind on the matter--but I wonder if He chose an odd number, and one not divisible without leaving something out, partly because He places high value on the oddball, the nonconformist, the person who always seems to be left out?
Certainly He has used many such people in amazing ways.
Seven were the days which God set for the week,
One set aside so His face we would seek.
Seven are the hues in the rainbow's bright gleam,
Set in the sky once the world was washed clean.
Seven were the times the troops circled around
Till Jericho's walls came a-tumbling down.
Seven were the foods Jesus blessed with head bowed--
Five loaves, two fish, fed a whole hungry crowd.
Seven were the deacons when the Church yet was new,
Servants who all would work hard as it grew.
Seven were the churches Christ named from His throne:
He Who is holy, is holy alone.
Seven are the verses in this song I have sung:
Let us give praise for the things God has done.
One number that appears in several significant Bible passages is a number that has acquired a general reputation for being lucky: seven. To the class of super-logical mathematicians (where I admittedly hold no membership), seven might seem a strange number to honor: it is neither small enough to be a basic unit like a two or a three, nor evenly divisible into any smaller units besides ones; and few extensively used larger numbers can be divided evenly by seven (even the seventy years traditionally estimated for the human life span now seems lost to an era of greater longevity). Why does seven, rather than a rounder figure like six or ten, so often seem to represent perfection in Scripture: seven days in the week; seven years of work for Jacob to marry each of his wives; seven days (ending in seven circuits around the city, led by seven priests) to bring about the fall of Jericho; seven deacons in the early Church?
Maybe I'm being whimsical here--and I definitely don't presume to be reading God's mind on the matter--but I wonder if He chose an odd number, and one not divisible without leaving something out, partly because He places high value on the oddball, the nonconformist, the person who always seems to be left out?
Certainly He has used many such people in amazing ways.
Seven were the days which God set for the week,
One set aside so His face we would seek.
Seven are the hues in the rainbow's bright gleam,
Set in the sky once the world was washed clean.
Seven were the times the troops circled around
Till Jericho's walls came a-tumbling down.
Seven were the foods Jesus blessed with head bowed--
Five loaves, two fish, fed a whole hungry crowd.
Seven were the deacons when the Church yet was new,
Servants who all would work hard as it grew.
Seven were the churches Christ named from His throne:
He Who is holy, is holy alone.
Seven are the verses in this song I have sung:
Let us give praise for the things God has done.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Plugged In
Most of the power outages caused by Hurricane Ike have now been repaired, to the relief of Houston and the surrounding towns. Human beings can, of course, live indefinitely without electricity; but "life as we know it" is so dependent on that power that people tend to get ugly if it's off for even a few hours. Halfway through last week, someone hung a notice on my apartment complex's bulletin board urging everyone to blitz the power company with demands for instant results.
It's strange how many people go ballistic over losing their everyday luxuries--and how few show even small concern about losing access to God's Power, without which life would truly cease to exist. Thousands of people are sure they "can get along fine without a father figure in the sky" or "don't want a bunch of religious rules weighing me down." Even Christians frequently "pull the plug" on God's power: rarely opening their Bibles; going to church only a few times a year; and praying mostly when they're in trouble.
An appliance can be in perfect condition and so can the electrical service, but if the cord stays unplugged, you'll get no more useful work out of that appliance than if you were alone with it in the middle of untrodden wilderness. Likewise, we have to "plug ourselves in" with regular worship and prayer if we truly want to see what God can do.
Electrical power flows forth through wires,
And runs many a useful thing;
But if wires are cut or the plug is pulled,
All goes dead as a dried-up spring.
The Power for life flows forth from God,
And gives light to the paths we tread;
But if you pull plugs on your line to Him,
Then your spiritual life goes dead.
Turn on your switch to tap God's Power--
Give your heart and your mind to prayer--
To receive all the strength He has for you,
And be sure He will meet you there!
It's strange how many people go ballistic over losing their everyday luxuries--and how few show even small concern about losing access to God's Power, without which life would truly cease to exist. Thousands of people are sure they "can get along fine without a father figure in the sky" or "don't want a bunch of religious rules weighing me down." Even Christians frequently "pull the plug" on God's power: rarely opening their Bibles; going to church only a few times a year; and praying mostly when they're in trouble.
An appliance can be in perfect condition and so can the electrical service, but if the cord stays unplugged, you'll get no more useful work out of that appliance than if you were alone with it in the middle of untrodden wilderness. Likewise, we have to "plug ourselves in" with regular worship and prayer if we truly want to see what God can do.
Electrical power flows forth through wires,
And runs many a useful thing;
But if wires are cut or the plug is pulled,
All goes dead as a dried-up spring.
The Power for life flows forth from God,
And gives light to the paths we tread;
But if you pull plugs on your line to Him,
Then your spiritual life goes dead.
Turn on your switch to tap God's Power--
Give your heart and your mind to prayer--
To receive all the strength He has for you,
And be sure He will meet you there!
Friday, September 26, 2008
My Heart Sings
Hopefully this is the last update I'll have to post on the power outage here. The electricity came back about 12:50 this afternoon.
Hopefully, also, those of us Houstonians who have or soon will have our service restored won't use it as an excuse to hide behind air-conditioned walls watching television and surfing the Internet, at the expense of enjoying the autumn weather that is just settling in. Anyone who has ever sweated through a Gulf Coast summer knows the arrival of a cooler season as one of God's greatest blessings. Standing under a cloudless sky on a crisp blue day, hair ruffled by a breeze carrying just a hint of chill, watching a kettle (flock) of migrating hawks soaring southward on the high winds, is one of life's finest pleasures.
The natural world in its full glory has inspired many a great hymn. A favorite of mine is "How Great Thou Art," which praises God not only for His marvelous Creation, but also for the greater wonders of redemption--not only of our individual souls, but eventually of the whole natural order.
After His full Kingdom comes, every day will be infinitely more beautiful than the present world's most colorful autumn day.
When I think of all of the wonders of Creation,
Of the stars that stretch beyond any mortal view,
And of the birds with their songs and gleaming feathers,
Of the sea and the sunrise and the sky so blue,
My heart sings
In its joy to behold God's glory;
My heart sings
In its wonder to know God's love;
My heart sings
As I think of His deeds of mercy,
All the treasures that come forth from the Lord above.
When I think of how our God became a mortal,
How He suffered and then died to redeem the lost,
How He spilled His blood for the sake of those who despised Him,
And found the most contemptible fate worth the cost,
My heart sings
In its joy to behold God's glory;
My heart sings
In its wonder to know God's love;
My heart sings
As I think of His deeds of mercy,
All the treasures that come forth from the Lord above.
When I think of the coming day that the Lord has promised,
When all pain and tears and death will dissolve and be no more,
When our God at last shall perfect us, as He is perfect,
And we all shall forever live on His holy shore,
My heart sings
In its joy to behold God's glory;
My heart sings
In its wonder to know God's love;
My heart sings
As I think of His deeds of mercy,
All the treasures that come forth from the Lord above.
Hopefully, also, those of us Houstonians who have or soon will have our service restored won't use it as an excuse to hide behind air-conditioned walls watching television and surfing the Internet, at the expense of enjoying the autumn weather that is just settling in. Anyone who has ever sweated through a Gulf Coast summer knows the arrival of a cooler season as one of God's greatest blessings. Standing under a cloudless sky on a crisp blue day, hair ruffled by a breeze carrying just a hint of chill, watching a kettle (flock) of migrating hawks soaring southward on the high winds, is one of life's finest pleasures.
The natural world in its full glory has inspired many a great hymn. A favorite of mine is "How Great Thou Art," which praises God not only for His marvelous Creation, but also for the greater wonders of redemption--not only of our individual souls, but eventually of the whole natural order.
After His full Kingdom comes, every day will be infinitely more beautiful than the present world's most colorful autumn day.
When I think of all of the wonders of Creation,
Of the stars that stretch beyond any mortal view,
And of the birds with their songs and gleaming feathers,
Of the sea and the sunrise and the sky so blue,
My heart sings
In its joy to behold God's glory;
My heart sings
In its wonder to know God's love;
My heart sings
As I think of His deeds of mercy,
All the treasures that come forth from the Lord above.
When I think of how our God became a mortal,
How He suffered and then died to redeem the lost,
How He spilled His blood for the sake of those who despised Him,
And found the most contemptible fate worth the cost,
My heart sings
In its joy to behold God's glory;
My heart sings
In its wonder to know God's love;
My heart sings
As I think of His deeds of mercy,
All the treasures that come forth from the Lord above.
When I think of the coming day that the Lord has promised,
When all pain and tears and death will dissolve and be no more,
When our God at last shall perfect us, as He is perfect,
And we all shall forever live on His holy shore,
My heart sings
In its joy to behold God's glory;
My heart sings
In its wonder to know God's love;
My heart sings
As I think of His deeds of mercy,
All the treasures that come forth from the Lord above.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Idols
High in Judeo-Christian law--near the top of the Ten Commandments--is "You shall not make for yourself an idol in the form of anything in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the waters below" (Ex. 20:4, NIV). At first glance, that may seem like an easy commandment to follow--in Moses's day, people in every country may have bowed to statues, but today it's the person who does try something like that who's the oddball. But before we get smug, let's consider that idols can be "made" in the brain even more easily than with the hands. And that one of our popular television programs is called American Idol.
The dictionary defines an "idol" first as "an image used as an object of worship; a false god," second as "one that is adored, often blindly or excessively," and third as "something visible but without substance." That last definition, rarely used today, probably sums it up best. While many idols are "visible" only to the minds of the people who worship them, and some idols are quite substantial in the sense of being solid and material, every idolater "sees" quite a bit in his or her object of worship; and every idol lacks the "substance" to fully deliver on the worshiper's expectations.
In the broadest sense, an idol is anything to which people give more devotion than it deserves, be "it" a sports hero, a personal collection of awards, a new car, a lucky charm, or even a concept such as (one of my own top bugaboos) the idea of leaving nothing unfinished or uncertain. Even Christian worship practices can be distorted into idols; there are people who wear Scripture verses as protective amulets, or who tell everyone that "if you have enough faith and pray in the right way, God will make you rich."
The primary difference between idols--whether statues, philosophies, possessions, or human beings--and the one true God is that God does have the power to grant anything we ask. The reason so many of us prefer idols is that God also has the power, solely on His own discretion, to refuse any such requests.
And we don't like that. Because another thing all idols have in common is that they can be made to serve the whims of everyone's secret number-one idol.
Ourselves.
In ancient times of ages past,
When science was a skill unknown,
The people saw the sun and rain
And also plants and crops they'd grown
As signs that gods must guide the world;
So, making stands of gold or wood,
They sacrificed to beasts and stars
To pray for things that they thought good.
Then God commanded, "You must not
Praise images of things you see;
For I, Who dwell in light unseen,
Will have you worship none but Me."
As we, today, look back through time
Through lenses ground in what we've learned,
We laugh at ancient ignorance
When no one knew how the world turned
Or what did cause the rain and tides;
They prayed to useless clods of stone--
And we make idols out of power
And set possessions on life's throne.
Our idols are invisible,
Yet quite as real as those before--
While God alone still rates our praise
And reigns in glory evermore.
The dictionary defines an "idol" first as "an image used as an object of worship; a false god," second as "one that is adored, often blindly or excessively," and third as "something visible but without substance." That last definition, rarely used today, probably sums it up best. While many idols are "visible" only to the minds of the people who worship them, and some idols are quite substantial in the sense of being solid and material, every idolater "sees" quite a bit in his or her object of worship; and every idol lacks the "substance" to fully deliver on the worshiper's expectations.
In the broadest sense, an idol is anything to which people give more devotion than it deserves, be "it" a sports hero, a personal collection of awards, a new car, a lucky charm, or even a concept such as (one of my own top bugaboos) the idea of leaving nothing unfinished or uncertain. Even Christian worship practices can be distorted into idols; there are people who wear Scripture verses as protective amulets, or who tell everyone that "if you have enough faith and pray in the right way, God will make you rich."
The primary difference between idols--whether statues, philosophies, possessions, or human beings--and the one true God is that God does have the power to grant anything we ask. The reason so many of us prefer idols is that God also has the power, solely on His own discretion, to refuse any such requests.
And we don't like that. Because another thing all idols have in common is that they can be made to serve the whims of everyone's secret number-one idol.
Ourselves.
In ancient times of ages past,
When science was a skill unknown,
The people saw the sun and rain
And also plants and crops they'd grown
As signs that gods must guide the world;
So, making stands of gold or wood,
They sacrificed to beasts and stars
To pray for things that they thought good.
Then God commanded, "You must not
Praise images of things you see;
For I, Who dwell in light unseen,
Will have you worship none but Me."
As we, today, look back through time
Through lenses ground in what we've learned,
We laugh at ancient ignorance
When no one knew how the world turned
Or what did cause the rain and tides;
They prayed to useless clods of stone--
And we make idols out of power
And set possessions on life's throne.
Our idols are invisible,
Yet quite as real as those before--
While God alone still rates our praise
And reigns in glory evermore.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
The Celestial Bible
I mentioned in my last blog that I spent Labor Day weekend in the Texas Hill Country--in a rather remote area, actually. One thing I like about remote areas--besides being out of cell phone and e-mail range, safe from people who consider it everyone's duty to be "on call" 24/7--is the overhead view on clear nights. Those of us who live in major metropolitan areas see only a smattering of stars through the city lights and haze; there is just no comparison to the brilliantly spangled sky in the country.
In Bible times, when there were no electric lights and few large cities, the view must have been, if anything, more spectacular. It must also have offered comfort to people who had only fire to push back the dark where wild animals (and who knew what else) lurked; shining on against the black sky, growing all the brighter as it grew blacker, the stars must have represented assurance that darkness would never overcome light.
Small wonder that most ancient peoples worshiped the stars as gods. The Bible warns against such practices (e. g., Dt. 4:19), but never forbids admiring the stars. Indeed, many Scripture verses use that as a take-off point for worship of the stars' Creator:
"When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him?" (Ps. 8:3-4, NIV).
"He determines the number of the stars and calls them each by name" (Ps. 147:4).
"Praise him, sun and moon, praise him, all you shining stars" (Ps. 148:3).
The opposite of worshiping the stars is to become so used to them as to no longer appreciate them. When I was a college student in a small town, I was surprised at how many of my rural-raised classmates seemed completely blind to the beauty of the night sky. Once one starts taking Creation for granted, it is only a short step to denying the Creator (cf. Rom. 1:18-21); if the stars aren't all that great, who's to say it took a great God to make them?
Whether you live in the wilderness or in a Manhattan high-rise, pause this evening to admire some small part of Creation--be it the brightest stars, the moon, the ocean, or a tree on the corner--that you pass every day but have been ignoring. Take time to really see it in all its splendid design.
Then praise the God Who made it!
God's glory shines forth from the heavens
So even pagans know
A mightier Power than human
Set all of the stars aglow.
God formed all space and the heavens
And lit the fires of the sky
That shine through centuries of nighttimes,
Proclaiming Him to each eye.
Earth is but one tiny island
In the universe's sea,
And I am but one speck of life--
Yet God cares so much for me.
Every life is a mere instant
In the span of time's great whole;
But in eternal worlds beyond,
God will keep each faithful soul.
In Bible times, when there were no electric lights and few large cities, the view must have been, if anything, more spectacular. It must also have offered comfort to people who had only fire to push back the dark where wild animals (and who knew what else) lurked; shining on against the black sky, growing all the brighter as it grew blacker, the stars must have represented assurance that darkness would never overcome light.
Small wonder that most ancient peoples worshiped the stars as gods. The Bible warns against such practices (e. g., Dt. 4:19), but never forbids admiring the stars. Indeed, many Scripture verses use that as a take-off point for worship of the stars' Creator:
"When I consider your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him?" (Ps. 8:3-4, NIV).
"He determines the number of the stars and calls them each by name" (Ps. 147:4).
"Praise him, sun and moon, praise him, all you shining stars" (Ps. 148:3).
The opposite of worshiping the stars is to become so used to them as to no longer appreciate them. When I was a college student in a small town, I was surprised at how many of my rural-raised classmates seemed completely blind to the beauty of the night sky. Once one starts taking Creation for granted, it is only a short step to denying the Creator (cf. Rom. 1:18-21); if the stars aren't all that great, who's to say it took a great God to make them?
Whether you live in the wilderness or in a Manhattan high-rise, pause this evening to admire some small part of Creation--be it the brightest stars, the moon, the ocean, or a tree on the corner--that you pass every day but have been ignoring. Take time to really see it in all its splendid design.
Then praise the God Who made it!
God's glory shines forth from the heavens
So even pagans know
A mightier Power than human
Set all of the stars aglow.
God formed all space and the heavens
And lit the fires of the sky
That shine through centuries of nighttimes,
Proclaiming Him to each eye.
Earth is but one tiny island
In the universe's sea,
And I am but one speck of life--
Yet God cares so much for me.
Every life is a mere instant
In the span of time's great whole;
But in eternal worlds beyond,
God will keep each faithful soul.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
On the Mountain
I spent Labor Day weekend at a church retreat in the Texas Hill Country; the theme was "mountaintop experiences." No doubt a native of Colorado or Nepal would laugh to hear the hills of central Texas described as "mountains," but they're tough enough climbing for those of us who live on the flat Gulf Coast.
Perhaps because it takes effort to reach the summits, perhaps because they seem to rise above the world's problems, or perhaps simply because they point up toward Heaven, mountains hold deep spiritual significance in almost every religion. In the Christian Gospels, Jesus's Transfiguration took place on a mountain, and His best-known preachings come from what we call the Sermon on the Mount. Numerous Christian works use mountain imagery; Hannah Hurnard's novel Hinds' Feet on High Places and Steven Curtis Chapman's song "The Mountain" are just two examples.
Both those works--indeed, most mountain-climbing stories--mention the descent as well as the heights. For all the beauty and triumph of attaining a mountain summit, every climber eventually must return to the "lower world." Often it's a "comedown" in more ways than one. Moses, for example, spent forty days alone with God on a mountain--then returned to that same God's supposed followers to find them worshiping an idol. No wonder he exploded with anger (Ex. 32:19); sin seems especially dirty after we've received a close view of God's holiness and purity.
Our first instinct, on realizing that our time "on the mountain" is drawing to a close, is often to beg for an extension, to delay our return to the dirtier matters of earth. Peter was thinking in such terms at the Transfiguration, when he said, "Lord, it is good for us to be here. If you wish, I will put up three shelters—one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah" (Mt. 17:1-9, NIV). Let's not spoil the experience, Lord. Let's all just stay here. Didn't You just tell us a week ago (Mt. 16:21) that there was suffering and death waiting in Your earthly future? Why would You want to go down and face that?
Jesus went down because His love for helplessly sinful people like Peter--and all the rest of us--was stronger than His love for glory. The same heart that led Him to leave the unimaginable riches of Heaven for the hardships of earth led Him away from the mountaintop and toward the Cross. He did it for us, to break the spiritual shackles that kept us earthbound with no hope for more than temporary joys.
We can never truly be His followers if we let selfishness replace worship--which is exactly what we are doing if we cling to the mountain summits while He is telling us to go work in the valley.
Moses was upon Mount Sinai
Six long weeks through day and night,
All alone in God's great Presence,
Bathed within the glorious Light:
Must he not have wished to linger
In the Father's luminous glow,
Rather than confront the idol
Rising on the plains below?
Jesus taught upon a mountain,
Taught of blessings and God's grace;
As His followers sat and listened
In that wilds-made-holy place,
Must they not have wished to linger
In those moments' radiant glow,
Rather than apply His teachings
In the stress-filled world below?
Peter saw, upon a mountain,
His Lord shine in radiant white,
In the presence of the prophets,
Blazing with a holy Light:
Can we fault his wish to linger
In that perfect, heavenly glow,
Rather than to face the trials
Waiting in the world below?
We all have our "mountain moments,"
When God seems especially near,
When Creation shines with beauty,
When we feel no trace of fear;
But, though we may wish to linger
All our lives within that glow,
If we love Him, we must also
Go to do His work below.
Perhaps because it takes effort to reach the summits, perhaps because they seem to rise above the world's problems, or perhaps simply because they point up toward Heaven, mountains hold deep spiritual significance in almost every religion. In the Christian Gospels, Jesus's Transfiguration took place on a mountain, and His best-known preachings come from what we call the Sermon on the Mount. Numerous Christian works use mountain imagery; Hannah Hurnard's novel Hinds' Feet on High Places and Steven Curtis Chapman's song "The Mountain" are just two examples.
Both those works--indeed, most mountain-climbing stories--mention the descent as well as the heights. For all the beauty and triumph of attaining a mountain summit, every climber eventually must return to the "lower world." Often it's a "comedown" in more ways than one. Moses, for example, spent forty days alone with God on a mountain--then returned to that same God's supposed followers to find them worshiping an idol. No wonder he exploded with anger (Ex. 32:19); sin seems especially dirty after we've received a close view of God's holiness and purity.
Our first instinct, on realizing that our time "on the mountain" is drawing to a close, is often to beg for an extension, to delay our return to the dirtier matters of earth. Peter was thinking in such terms at the Transfiguration, when he said, "Lord, it is good for us to be here. If you wish, I will put up three shelters—one for you, one for Moses and one for Elijah" (Mt. 17:1-9, NIV). Let's not spoil the experience, Lord. Let's all just stay here. Didn't You just tell us a week ago (Mt. 16:21) that there was suffering and death waiting in Your earthly future? Why would You want to go down and face that?
Jesus went down because His love for helplessly sinful people like Peter--and all the rest of us--was stronger than His love for glory. The same heart that led Him to leave the unimaginable riches of Heaven for the hardships of earth led Him away from the mountaintop and toward the Cross. He did it for us, to break the spiritual shackles that kept us earthbound with no hope for more than temporary joys.
We can never truly be His followers if we let selfishness replace worship--which is exactly what we are doing if we cling to the mountain summits while He is telling us to go work in the valley.
Moses was upon Mount Sinai
Six long weeks through day and night,
All alone in God's great Presence,
Bathed within the glorious Light:
Must he not have wished to linger
In the Father's luminous glow,
Rather than confront the idol
Rising on the plains below?
Jesus taught upon a mountain,
Taught of blessings and God's grace;
As His followers sat and listened
In that wilds-made-holy place,
Must they not have wished to linger
In those moments' radiant glow,
Rather than apply His teachings
In the stress-filled world below?
Peter saw, upon a mountain,
His Lord shine in radiant white,
In the presence of the prophets,
Blazing with a holy Light:
Can we fault his wish to linger
In that perfect, heavenly glow,
Rather than to face the trials
Waiting in the world below?
We all have our "mountain moments,"
When God seems especially near,
When Creation shines with beauty,
When we feel no trace of fear;
But, though we may wish to linger
All our lives within that glow,
If we love Him, we must also
Go to do His work below.
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