Visions of Heaven

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving--and I'm very thankful that, after ten days and three service calls, the cable problems that cut off my Internet service have at last been fixed. We don't need to suffer major tragedies to be convinced we live in an imperfect world; nearly every "normal" day has at least one frustrating moment that can tempt us to curse life.

God's refusal to completely remove hindrances from our existence is, whether we appreciate it or not, for our own good. Not only does struggle build character (cf. Heb. 12:5-11); it keeps us from getting too fond of this world where we are "aliens and strangers" (1 Peter 2:11; Heb. 11:13). Jesus said that "it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God" (Mt. 19:24, NIV), almost certainly because the rich are comfortable enough already and have trouble picturing even the Kingdom as being better. If relative comfort in this world can hinder a person's spiritual progress, how much damage might total comfort do?

Not that knowing this makes discomfort that much easier to bear. We needn't actually reach the point of being suicidal to have moments when we want to scream (or groan), "Take me out of this world; I can't stand it any longer!" This isn't necessarily a wrong attitude, if we're motivated by a genuine longing to see God's eternal Kingdom come (cf. Rom. 8:18-25), rather than by a selfish desire for personal relief. In fact, most Christians spend too much time praying about individual problems--and too little time praying for the return of Christ, which will put a permanent end to all problems and establish God's total rule once and for all.

From then on, every day will be Thanksgiving.

When, in this life, you have trouble,
And are crushed under evil's great load,
When every day is a struggle
And each hour brings new holes in your road,
Lift up your eyes to the Father
And ask Him to show you the view:
He still gives visions of Heaven,
Where everything will be made new.

When, in this life, you have plenty
And the load set upon you seems light,
When every day seems all beauty
And each hour brings new joys fresh and bright,
Still keep your eyes on the Father
And ask Him to show you the way:
He still gives visions of Heaven,
Far grander than earth's loveliest day.

Life, at its best, is but fleeting;
Yes, and life, at its worst, soon will end;
But Christ, through His death, has defeated
Death's dark power, for all who call Him Friend.
Lift up your eyes; it is coming,
That Day of God's glorious Light,
When all our visions of Heaven
Forever will change into sight!

The Still Small Voice

I recently read a book on prayer that included this insight: many of us who complain God never says anything to us, can't hear Him because our minds are "cluttered with junk." We can't expect our computers to respond at top speed if we've filled their drives to capacity; we can't expect to hear the doorbell ring if we're using headphones on a radio turned to full volume; and we can't expect to hear God's "still, small voice" (1 Kings 19:12, NKJV) in our heads if we've given them too much else to think about.

I know some people are going to be indignant to hear the word "junk" applied to their distracting thoughts (which is one reason I included a link to the book where I read it: so the other author can take the blame!). "Am I wrong to wonder what my kids are up to?" someone is bound to say. "Is it a sin to try to remember everything my boss wants me to do? Am I obligated to confine my TV viewing to church broadcasts and my reading to the Bible?"

Not necessarily. It would hardly be possible, or even desirable, to spend every moment of life on our knees; after all, Jesus went to parties. And even when we're officially "at prayer," it doesn't necessarily mean we're listening to God. I'm not referring to minds that wander away from prayer altogether, though if you're anything like me you have your share of problems there. I mean that many of us do so much talking that we don't give God a chance to answer. Especially if we suspect we may not like what He has to say! (We all tend to take over conversations--as loud and fast as we can get away with--when we sense someone is about to bring up something that will make us uncomfortable.) The larger problem, the one that turns even wholesome thoughts into "junk," comes when we semi-consciously decide that our worries and pleasures are more important than our God. It's when we forget to give Him first place--and full say in anything else we feed into our brains--that we stop listening to Him.

Some of us don't even want to bother trying; we figure that if God has anything to say to us, He's perfectly capable of speaking loudly enough that we can't miss it. If C. S. Lewis was right that "God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks to us in our conscience, but shouts in our pains," that could be a risky approach to adopt!

Like any good friend, God would much rather have us pay sufficient attention to Him that He doesn't have to shout to get us to listen.

We fill up our lives with distraction's noise,
Then ask, "Why doesn't God speak out?
Why should we have to listen to hear His voice?
Surely He knows the way to shout!"
But the Master of Lightning, Lord of Storm,
Is a Gentleman at His core;
Though His arm is almighty, His heart is warm;
He will rarely kick down a door.

If you truly would hear God speak to you,
If you wish to discern His call,
You must tune your heart's ear to hear what is true;
You must crave God's will over all.
Then, in gentle whispers His voice will come,
As it comes to all those who seek;
No one who learns to banish distraction's hum
Need complain God neglects to speak!

Not for Me, O Lord

If you've ever worked in marketing, you've probably heard the wise advice, "It isn't features that do the selling; it's benefits." Benefits to the potential customer, that is. People don't make purchasing decisions because of how many awards a business has won, or how the moving parts in a lawn mower function together, or how many sizes an inflatable swimming pool comes in. They decide what brand to buy--or whether they need something like this at all--on the basis of whether it meets their wants and needs. There are still plenty of businesspeople who haven't learned this, if the advertisements we get in the mail and see on the Web are any indication.

And there are plenty of people in everyday life who suffer from the same delusion that the world is eager to hear them brag about themselves. Yet one thing nearly everyone agrees on is that there is no greater bore than a conceited person. As classic human relations expert Dale Carnegie put it: "I know and you know people who blunder through life trying to badger other people into becoming interested in them. Of course, it doesn't work. People are not interested in you. They are not interested in me. They are interested in themselves--morning, noon, and after dinner."

Carnegie put his finger on a major irony there: the primary reason we find braggarts so boring is that we're pretty conceited ourselves. While the egotist is shooting off his mouth, we're thinking, "Look, buddy, don't you know I'm at least as important as you?!" And we, who condemn others for talking too much about themselves, do the same thing whenever we get the chance. For the vast majority of humanity, "I," "me," and "mine" are the most common words in everyday vocabulary.

Psalm 115:1 (NIV) says, "Not to us, O LORD, not to us but to your name be the glory, because of your love and faithfulness." But many of us want to accept God's "love and faithfulness" while keeping the "glory"--and the control over our lives and destinies--for ourselves. Many people even have an overall attitude toward religion that adds up to, "If God really loved me, He'd always give me what I want." Like children who say the same thing when their parents deny outrageous requests, we attempt to set ourselves up as higher authorities than Someone Who is unquestionably wiser and more experienced. That attitude has been causing problems for humanity ever since Eve fell for the "you can have more--you can be as great as God" line.

And since every one of us is born with that same attitude effectively programmed into the psyche, it takes a lot of maturing before we can honestly say to God, "Not my will but Yours be done. I know You will do what is best for me, however opposite it seems to what I want at the moment."

Most of the world has instead fallen for the idea that to be fulfilled, we have to focus our lives on what we want--notwithstanding the large numbers of people who can testify that constantly thinking about oneself is a quick route to misery.

True happiness is loving God above all else.

Not for me, O Lord,
Not for any earthly pleasure,
May I seek Your Kingdom's treasure;
Make my will Your own;
Drive out all that seeks to hinder
Me from total, pure surrender;
Make my wish, alone,
To become Your loving servant,
Ever passionate and fervent:
Cut each earthly cord.

Not for me, O Lord:
All my longings may prove tainted,
For my heart is ill-acquainted
With its own dark depths;
I but faintly see--forgive me!--
The true blessings You would give me;
Faltering are my steps:
Make my one desire Your glory,
My one goal to spread Your story,
You alone adored.

For His Yoke Is Easy

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest," said Jesus in Matthew 11:28-30 (NIV), "...and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

The New Testament frequently contrasts the way of grace--the "light burden"--with the heavy emotional burden of legalism, that endless catalog of religious rules that tells us we have to do everything right to get to Heaven, and never provides any real assurance that we are in fact saved. The good news of following Christ is that He accepts us regardless of our past sins and present inadequacies--without demanding reparation in advance or threatening to kick us out if we don't do everything properly from then on. He's taken care of our admission tickets to Heaven; all He asks in return is that we let Him show us the best (in every sense of the word) way to live in the present. And He also supplies the strength we need to live that way.

The problem is, many of us who were saved by grace try to live by works. We feel obligated to respond to every perceived need, without asking God if He really wants us to fill them; we browbeat ourselves for sinning, instead of immediately repenting and rejoicing in His forgiveness; and we use the Scriptures as a means to feed our worry about whether we're doing everything right, rather than as a source of guidance and encouragement. No wonder many people dismiss Christianity as "just a bunch of rules."

St. Paul, who himself came out of strict legalism, lets his exasperation with such attitudes show in Galatians 3:1-3: "Who has bewitched you? Before your very eyes Jesus Christ was clearly portrayed as crucified. I would like to learn just one thing from you: Did you receive the Spirit by observing the law, or by believing what you heard? Are you so foolish? After beginning with the Spirit, are you now trying to attain your goal by human effort?" To use a modern analogy: the road map (the commands of Scripture) can't be put in the gas tank where the fuel (the power of the Spirit) belongs. Not, at any rate, if the car (the Christian life) is to run very smoothly or very far.

If your life is so weighted down with responsibility that you can hardly move, it's time to ask God how much you have added to His own light burden.

You who are struggling feebly,
Bent under life's demands,
Come to the Lord for comfort;
Take mercy from His hands.

You who have found religion
Just a hard crush of rules,
Find in the Lord forgiveness;
Turn from the path of fools.

You who know all too clearly
How weak you are, alone,
Find strengthening in your Savior:
He guides and leads His own.

You, lost in doubts and terrors--
God knows you cannot earn
The grace that He gives freely,
The peace for which you yearn.

Come to the Lord for comfort;
Come to the Lord for rest.
Trust in His power to keep you:
His ways are always best.

You Cannot See the Wind

The third Person of the Trinity often isn't treated much like a person at all. I've heard even well-versed and orthodox preachers refer to the Holy Spirit as "it"--something we would never consider doing to any other friend who stuck by us through the hardest of times, offering constant support, advice, and encouragement (cf. John 16:5-15).

Perhaps the Holy Spirit is frequently regarded as impersonal because, unlike the Father or the Son, He gave us no specific words that were recorded in Scripture--nor is He ever described, even figuratively, as having any physical aspects. But even in the material world, many things with no solid or visible form are no less essential for that--the air we breathe being the primary example. And the air is not always content with being quietly "there for us"; it can do powerful things when it gets moving. As Jesus said in John 3:8 (NIV): "The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit."

As the wind has its visible manifestations in moving clouds and soaring kites, so should observers be able to discern the Holy Spirit in His work through us. Are you letting His power move you?

You cannot see the wind,
But you can feel its power:
So is it with God's Spirit,
Who moves us hour by hour.

You cannot see the wind,
But it still cools your face:
So is it with God's Spirit,
Who with our hearts keeps pace.

You cannot see the wind,
But you can feel its breath;
So is it with God's Spirit,
Who freshens souls near death.

And just as mighty winds
Are plain through what they do,
The Spirit shows His presence
Through every soul made new.

Our Father Is the Lord of Truth

"The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth" frequently seems like an endangered commodity. It's not just that there's been an overall breakdown in morality (however defensible that position may be); and it's not just that the best of us tell "little white lies" to make ourselves look good, avoid trouble, and spare others' feelings. It's also that the more vocal elements of our society now regularly feed the idea that the world is full of falsehood, perhaps creating an impression of more than is actually there, by throwing the accusation of "liar" at whatever political, media, or special-interest groups they disagree with. No longer is it sufficient insult to call an opponent a fool or an idiot; whoever fails to support one's own position is assumed to be not only dead wrong, but dishonest and malicious as well.

This is hardly to deny that deliberate lies are all too common, or that most people lie, even to themselves ("It won't hurt if I sin just a little"), a lot more than they'd ever admit. Nor is there any doubt that people can firmly believe blatant falsehoods; the idea that something can be "true for whoever believes it," without regard to any external facts, is ludicrous. And deliberate lies are indeed at the root of most of the world's problems; the devil isn't called "a liar and the father of lies" (John 8:44, NIV) for nothing.

In direct contrast, Jesus stated, "I am the... truth" (John 14:6). Notice that He didn't just say, "I always tell the truth," but "I am the truth." He is the epitome and originator of Truth; there is no trace of falsehood in Him. God may frequently act in ways we find hard to understand; He may not always give us all the facts (one clue as to why not is in John 16:12 [emphasis added]: "I have much more to say to you, more than you can now bear"); but He will never lie to us or lead us astray. In a world where every public announcement and many a private promise invite often well-deserved cynicism (who really believes that "your call is very important to us"?), it's good to know there is Someone Whose Word we can rely on.

And in a world where even small acts of honesty can catch people's attention, it's also good if we serve as His living advertisements by following His truthful example.

Our Father is the Lord of Truth,
Our Christ the Truth made real:
His Word will always guide us right,
No matter how we feel.

Our Father is the Lord of Truth:
In Him is not a trace
Of any malice or deceit,
And falsehood has no place.

And those who would deny His Truth
And scorn His holy creeds
May yet discern His shining Light
Within His servants' deeds,

For when a life reflects God's Truth,
It shows to others' eyes
A glimmer of the Truth beyond,
In Whom salvation lies.

Our Father is the Lord of Truth:
In Him the smallest things
Can win new souls into His Light,
Where joy and glory sings.

In Heaven and on Earth

Some people's concept of God is of an aloof Power Who got the universe going and hasn't paid much attention to it since. Others, who give God a bit more credit for interest in His Creation, still see Him as too busy with big things like keeping the planets in orbit, to be bothered with the petty worries of human beings. And some get so obsessed with how bad their own sinfulness is compared to God's holiness (which is true enough) that they are ashamed to speak to Him, even to confess; or they go in groveling to the point of embarrassment, as if atonement depended on the fervency of their pleas for forgiveness.

Still other people go to the opposite extreme and treat God as a cosmic Vending Machine Whose primary function is to answer our prayers for parking spaces near the store entrance, or as a "buddy" (the lowercase here is deliberate and deserved) who can be approached as an equal, perhaps even as an inferior judging from the casual and flippant tones such people take with Him: "Hey, God, sorry my wife got so upset about my staying out late without calling, could you convince her to make a few more allowances?"

Even among believers, it's a relatively rare attitude that strikes a reasonable balance between God's holiness and power on one hand, and His compassion and concern for every human being on the other. Granted that God is too great for us to even remotely grasp, we can get into trouble concentrating on one aspect of His being to the exclusion of others. The purest worship allows one view to feed the other rather than shouldering it aside: looking in awe at God's perfection can make it all the more remarkable that He cares for the likes of us, and overflowing with gratitude for His redemption and providence can bring a deeper understanding of the purity that made the Atonement possible.

Though God "made the world and everything in it [and] is the Lord of heaven and earth" (Acts 17:24, NIV), He "is not far from each one of us" (v. 27).

In Heaven, yes, but not apart from Earth,
Not perched aloof above our struggling race;
He Who embodies mercy seeks a place
In every human life this world gives birth.
He Who did coil the spiral galaxies
And fans the supernovas into flame
Still tunes His ear to each who calls His Name
From this small planet. Every life He sees,
And even every thought in every mind.
To Him belongs all judgment, every act
Of grace, and all the love that makes a pact
With each repentant soul of humankind.
He Who Himself made all the things of Earth
And all beyond, came here, His might made dim,
That we might someday rise to live with Him.
The Lord of Heaven had a human birth!