The Bible tells us well over a hundred times to "rejoice," even in our sufferings; yet many of us have difficulty summoning up much enthusiasm for life. Perhaps we have medical excuses such as clinical depression; perhaps our temperaments seem naturally inclined to melancholy and pessimism; or perhaps we've just developed childish habits of equating joy with pleasure and of refusing to rejoice unless things go our way. (I plead guilty to all three!)
"Refuse" is the right word. The Bible frequently uses "rejoice" as an active verb, a command, and God would not command us to do anything He gave us no power to do. To say that we have to be miserable because "that's just the way I naturally think" or "these circumstances would make anyone unhappy" is akin to saying God is either too cruel or too weak to help.
However--before anyone starts feeling like a failure as a Christian because he or she is not a consistently bubbly optimist--we need to remember that part of the problem is our misunderstanding of joy's nature. Some believers consider it a lack of faith to cry when someone goes to heaven, or when a crippling injury destroys one's plans for the future. There is actually nothing un-Christian about feeling pain or sorrow--indeed, it may be impossible to experience true Christian joy without first having suffered deeply, for only so can we feel God's compassion for a hurting world and truly appreciate what He suffered to redeem it--and us. Jesus Himself, Who wept over the death of a friend and the sins of His people, and Who was called a Man of Sorrows, said, "Blessed are those who mourn" (Mt. 5:4).
No, the opposite of Christian joy is not unhappiness but selfishness--mixing anger with our unhappiness because our plans have been spoiled, without giving a thought to the others touched by the situation or to how God is working even this out for good. Such an attitude can infiltrate legitimate grief if we dwell too long on our losses, or can assert itself repeatedly through the common frustrations of everyday life until we convince ourselves that "nothing ever goes right" and even that God must hate us. That is likely why we are commanded to rejoice--to actively remember and appreciate the goodness of God, lest we forget it altogether.
When we regularly review all we have to be thankful for--and remember that salvation alone is infinitely more than we deserve--then we can truly rejoice in the Lord, however miserable our circumstances seem.
Rejoice in the day God gave us,
When the blue sky is cool and clear:
Be not like the ones who look downward,
With no eyes and no hearts for cheer.
Rejoice in the day God gave us,
Though the sky may be clouded gray,
For each day of life is a blessing,
And much joy lies along the way.
Rejoice in the days God gives us:
Let not one pass devoid of praise;
Let your heart be filled with thanksgiving,
And let joy guide you all your days.
Rejoice in each day God gives you,
Till the day from this world you part,
For that land where the days are endless,
And pure joy shines in every heart!
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Monday, December 10, 2007
A Prayer Away
I took a 24-hour prayer retreat this weekend, so this seems a good time to say something about the significance of prayer. Too often, we treat prayer as a last resort, or as the task to be saved for when "important" things (read: all we can do in our own power) are finished. We fail to truly realize that we are utterly helpless to accomplish anything apart from God (cf. John 15:4-6), or to appreciate the privilege--and the potential--in being allowed direct access to the Power behind the universe.
How much time do you spend in prayer? How does it compare to the amount of time you spend worrying--or the amount of time you spend "doing"?
Do you take seriously Paul's reminder (Phil. 4:6-7) that the only way to find peace is to pray about everything?
Are you overwhelmed with tension?
Does despairing rule your day?
Do not sit in inward churning--
Help is just a prayer away!
Is your heart crushed under sorrow?
Does your world seem bleak and gray?
Are you wracked with pain and anguish?
Seek relief a prayer away!
Is your future dim, uncertain?
Can you scarcely see your way?
It is God Who gives assurance--
Find it just a prayer away!
Does your calling seem a burden?
Do you dread to face the fray?
Do your efforts all seem hopeless?
Strength is just a prayer away!
Do your pleadings seem unheeded?
Doubt you God hears what you say?
Never cease to seek His answer--
It may be a prayer away!
In our joys and in our struggles,
Through each hope and each dismay,
God is waiting to be called on--
He is just a prayer away!
How much time do you spend in prayer? How does it compare to the amount of time you spend worrying--or the amount of time you spend "doing"?
Do you take seriously Paul's reminder (Phil. 4:6-7) that the only way to find peace is to pray about everything?
Are you overwhelmed with tension?
Does despairing rule your day?
Do not sit in inward churning--
Help is just a prayer away!
Is your heart crushed under sorrow?
Does your world seem bleak and gray?
Are you wracked with pain and anguish?
Seek relief a prayer away!
Is your future dim, uncertain?
Can you scarcely see your way?
It is God Who gives assurance--
Find it just a prayer away!
Does your calling seem a burden?
Do you dread to face the fray?
Do your efforts all seem hopeless?
Strength is just a prayer away!
Do your pleadings seem unheeded?
Doubt you God hears what you say?
Never cease to seek His answer--
It may be a prayer away!
In our joys and in our struggles,
Through each hope and each dismay,
God is waiting to be called on--
He is just a prayer away!
Friday, December 7, 2007
The Glory Forever
"Glory to God in the highest," sang the angels on the first Christmas. There is no higher purpose than God's glory. Even Job forgot his problems when confronted with the full picture of divine majesty (Job 38:1-42:6); so who are we to say we have other concerns to think about?
Today's poem owes something of its theme to the hymn "Come, Thou Almighty King"; both focus on worshiping God in His Trinitarian aspects. The Trinity has always been a stumbling block to non-Christian monotheists; even Christians have never truly explained it adequately. But then, I have never meant anyone who claims full ability to understand even human beings, so far beneath the One Who controls the universe. It is the height of arrogance to insist God can exist only if He can be defined by our limited reason.
Unless we are willing to occasionally step aside from earthly concerns and theological debate, and take time simply to praise God, we can never know the full joy of His glory.
Glory to the Father, Whose word shaped the earth;
Glory to the Son, Whom a virgin gave birth;
Glory to the Spirit, Who makes souls fly free;
All glory forever to the Trinity.
Glory to the Father, Who the heavens unfurled;
Glory to the Son, Who was sent to this world;
Glory to the Spirit, sent forth from the Son;
All glory forever to the Three in One.
Glory to the Father, with Whom love begins;
Glory to the Son, Who was killed for our sins;
Glory to the Spirit, Who holy strength brings;
All glory forever to the King of Kings.
Glory to the Father, Who evermore reigns;
Glory to the Son, Whose blood washed clean our stains;
Glory to the Spirit, Who warms hearts of sod;
All glory forever to the One True God.
Today's poem owes something of its theme to the hymn "Come, Thou Almighty King"; both focus on worshiping God in His Trinitarian aspects. The Trinity has always been a stumbling block to non-Christian monotheists; even Christians have never truly explained it adequately. But then, I have never meant anyone who claims full ability to understand even human beings, so far beneath the One Who controls the universe. It is the height of arrogance to insist God can exist only if He can be defined by our limited reason.
Unless we are willing to occasionally step aside from earthly concerns and theological debate, and take time simply to praise God, we can never know the full joy of His glory.
Glory to the Father, Whose word shaped the earth;
Glory to the Son, Whom a virgin gave birth;
Glory to the Spirit, Who makes souls fly free;
All glory forever to the Trinity.
Glory to the Father, Who the heavens unfurled;
Glory to the Son, Who was sent to this world;
Glory to the Spirit, sent forth from the Son;
All glory forever to the Three in One.
Glory to the Father, with Whom love begins;
Glory to the Son, Who was killed for our sins;
Glory to the Spirit, Who holy strength brings;
All glory forever to the King of Kings.
Glory to the Father, Who evermore reigns;
Glory to the Son, Whose blood washed clean our stains;
Glory to the Spirit, Who warms hearts of sod;
All glory forever to the One True God.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
The March of Time
I hate jokes about women who guard their exact ages like matters of national security, and I never intend to join that crowd. However, now that my body is sending subtle reminders the big 4-0 is only fifteen months away, there are a few items from the youth package I would rather like to have back: the endless stamina; the freedom to ignore "watch what you eat" and "exercise daily" warnings without obvious consequence; and most of all, the semiconscious delusion that this will continue forever, that your body will somehow be exempt from wearing out.
Some people refuse outright to let go of that hope--often to their own detriment. We've all heard of--or known personally--the forty-five-year-old who tries to recapture his youth by dressing in the latest teenage fashions or by deciding that "till death do us part" can make an exception for a new relationship that makes him feel twenty again. Less spectacular, but equally as sad in eventual retrospect, is the person who decides that the best way to deal with the passing of years is simply to ignore either the future ("there's plenty of time to do something significant") or the present ("I was dying to finish school.... I was dying to get married.... I was dying for a promotion.... I was dying to retire.... And now, I am dying--without ever having lived").
Such attitudes are certainly typical of immature youth. It's a rare person under thirty who gives serious attention to Paul's admonition, "Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil" (Eph. 5:15-16, NIV). Many of us never learn that lesson--none of us ever master it completely. How many opportunities to do good do we squander, because "I can do it later" or "I want to enjoy myself first" or "there are more important things to worry about right now"? But lost opportunities, like lost years, never return.
Not that we should waste the present grieving over the mistakes of the past--Christ's blood is sufficient for sins of omission as well. Nor, if we have passed our physical prime living for ourselves, should we conclude we are now useless for the Lord's work. If He had nothing left for us to do on earth, we would already be in heaven.
However old or young, frail or vigorous, you are at the moment--are you ready to start "making the most of every opportunity" now?
Tick-tock,
Tick-tock,
Ever forward moves the clock.
Minutes lost are gone forever;
Hours slide by, returning never.
Tick-tock,
Tick-tock,
Ever forward moves the clock.
Midnight,
Morning,
Days slip by with little warning.
Wasted weeks stretch into decades,
Leave life's chances strewn in wreckage.
Midnight,
Morning,
Days slip by with little warning.
Take heed,
Christian,
Turn your ear to God and listen.
"Use the time I give you wisely:
Squander it and you despise Me."
Take heed,
Christian,
Turn your ear to God and listen.
Some people refuse outright to let go of that hope--often to their own detriment. We've all heard of--or known personally--the forty-five-year-old who tries to recapture his youth by dressing in the latest teenage fashions or by deciding that "till death do us part" can make an exception for a new relationship that makes him feel twenty again. Less spectacular, but equally as sad in eventual retrospect, is the person who decides that the best way to deal with the passing of years is simply to ignore either the future ("there's plenty of time to do something significant") or the present ("I was dying to finish school.... I was dying to get married.... I was dying for a promotion.... I was dying to retire.... And now, I am dying--without ever having lived").
Such attitudes are certainly typical of immature youth. It's a rare person under thirty who gives serious attention to Paul's admonition, "Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil" (Eph. 5:15-16, NIV). Many of us never learn that lesson--none of us ever master it completely. How many opportunities to do good do we squander, because "I can do it later" or "I want to enjoy myself first" or "there are more important things to worry about right now"? But lost opportunities, like lost years, never return.
Not that we should waste the present grieving over the mistakes of the past--Christ's blood is sufficient for sins of omission as well. Nor, if we have passed our physical prime living for ourselves, should we conclude we are now useless for the Lord's work. If He had nothing left for us to do on earth, we would already be in heaven.
However old or young, frail or vigorous, you are at the moment--are you ready to start "making the most of every opportunity" now?
Tick-tock,
Tick-tock,
Ever forward moves the clock.
Minutes lost are gone forever;
Hours slide by, returning never.
Tick-tock,
Tick-tock,
Ever forward moves the clock.
Midnight,
Morning,
Days slip by with little warning.
Wasted weeks stretch into decades,
Leave life's chances strewn in wreckage.
Midnight,
Morning,
Days slip by with little warning.
Take heed,
Christian,
Turn your ear to God and listen.
"Use the time I give you wisely:
Squander it and you despise Me."
Take heed,
Christian,
Turn your ear to God and listen.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Frustration
I set my personal goal for Advent 2007 at devoting my prayer time to worship instead of requests. I hoped for three or four weeks without material concerns, free for unbroken quiet time.
What I've gotten, so far, has been three unexpected new projects; two others dragging on considerably longer than planned; and what seems like no end of mechanical breakdowns, delays, and "do this over" requests--all of which tempt constant wavering of my resolve to praise God continually and ask nothing for myself except spiritual growth. I should have expected it. I've heard the same story from other Christians; you make up your mind to work hard toward maturing, and suddenly half your world seems to be controlled by an intelligent force dedicated to making things difficult for you.
Maybe it is. Satan hates to see believers develop into the image of Christ, and many of our difficulties therein are attributable to his dirty work. But this raises another question: why does God, Who has the final word on whatever happens, let Satan get away with it? You would think, especially since our intention is to serve God's glory, He'd at least give us a few weeks to develop new habits before letting us be hit full force with the need to use them. No wonder we are tempted to echo St. Teresa of Avila, who is credited with having said, "Lord, no wonder You have so few friends, considering the way You treat them!"
Perhaps Peter was tempted by a similar thought as, in John 6:25-69, he heard Jesus say that the true saints of the Kingdom would not find life all free meals and smooth sailing, but would be called to total commitment and sacrifice. Perhaps he briefly considered joining those who found it easier to walk away from the whole thing. Perhaps his final decision, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life," was voiced with a hint of despair, as in: "This is the best offer we've ever gotten, but it doesn't look all that great at the moment!" Every believer feels that way on occasion. Why does God seem to reward our genuine steps of commitment with hardship and struggle, without even giving us a chance to warm up first?
The question has no easy answer. But perhaps 2 Corinthians 12 sheds some light on the subject. Paul's "thorn in the flesh," a "messenger of Satan" and a source of presumably constant "torment," was sent "to keep [him] from becoming conceited" (v. 7, NIV) in the aftermath of a powerful spiritual experience. Perhaps God allows so many "growing pains" in our lives for the same reason--if it was easy to make significant progress, we might forget we couldn't do it alone (cf. John 15:4-6); begin to think ourselves as wise and capable as God; and start a prideful backslide that would undo everything that had been accomplished.
One thing is certain. However frustrating life gets, we can never use it as evidence that God doesn't love us.
The whole Incarnation--from the Nativity to the Crucifixion--is proof He does.
Sometimes I feel like Martha,
And the words I mean for prayer
Come out, "Lord, look at all I've done,
And You don't even seem to care!"
I feel like St. Teresa
On a day of pure dead ends,
And moan, "Oh, Lord, I'll never know
Why You are so hard on Your friends!"
Job sitting on the ash heap,
The thorn in the flesh of Paul,
Jeremiah ruing his day of birth--
I can sympathize with them all!
Should I rant and scream at heaven?
Should I list each gripe I know?
Should I stomp away in anger--
But where else could I ever go?
Our God is the Lord of mystery;
His ways are beyond our thought;
We never learn all His reasons--
It is not ours to say, "He ought."
Not ours to be the masters,
To look down on God above:
If you insist on knowing--know
That His scars ever say, "I love."
What I've gotten, so far, has been three unexpected new projects; two others dragging on considerably longer than planned; and what seems like no end of mechanical breakdowns, delays, and "do this over" requests--all of which tempt constant wavering of my resolve to praise God continually and ask nothing for myself except spiritual growth. I should have expected it. I've heard the same story from other Christians; you make up your mind to work hard toward maturing, and suddenly half your world seems to be controlled by an intelligent force dedicated to making things difficult for you.
Maybe it is. Satan hates to see believers develop into the image of Christ, and many of our difficulties therein are attributable to his dirty work. But this raises another question: why does God, Who has the final word on whatever happens, let Satan get away with it? You would think, especially since our intention is to serve God's glory, He'd at least give us a few weeks to develop new habits before letting us be hit full force with the need to use them. No wonder we are tempted to echo St. Teresa of Avila, who is credited with having said, "Lord, no wonder You have so few friends, considering the way You treat them!"
Perhaps Peter was tempted by a similar thought as, in John 6:25-69, he heard Jesus say that the true saints of the Kingdom would not find life all free meals and smooth sailing, but would be called to total commitment and sacrifice. Perhaps he briefly considered joining those who found it easier to walk away from the whole thing. Perhaps his final decision, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life," was voiced with a hint of despair, as in: "This is the best offer we've ever gotten, but it doesn't look all that great at the moment!" Every believer feels that way on occasion. Why does God seem to reward our genuine steps of commitment with hardship and struggle, without even giving us a chance to warm up first?
The question has no easy answer. But perhaps 2 Corinthians 12 sheds some light on the subject. Paul's "thorn in the flesh," a "messenger of Satan" and a source of presumably constant "torment," was sent "to keep [him] from becoming conceited" (v. 7, NIV) in the aftermath of a powerful spiritual experience. Perhaps God allows so many "growing pains" in our lives for the same reason--if it was easy to make significant progress, we might forget we couldn't do it alone (cf. John 15:4-6); begin to think ourselves as wise and capable as God; and start a prideful backslide that would undo everything that had been accomplished.
One thing is certain. However frustrating life gets, we can never use it as evidence that God doesn't love us.
The whole Incarnation--from the Nativity to the Crucifixion--is proof He does.
Sometimes I feel like Martha,
And the words I mean for prayer
Come out, "Lord, look at all I've done,
And You don't even seem to care!"
I feel like St. Teresa
On a day of pure dead ends,
And moan, "Oh, Lord, I'll never know
Why You are so hard on Your friends!"
Job sitting on the ash heap,
The thorn in the flesh of Paul,
Jeremiah ruing his day of birth--
I can sympathize with them all!
Should I rant and scream at heaven?
Should I list each gripe I know?
Should I stomp away in anger--
But where else could I ever go?
Our God is the Lord of mystery;
His ways are beyond our thought;
We never learn all His reasons--
It is not ours to say, "He ought."
Not ours to be the masters,
To look down on God above:
If you insist on knowing--know
That His scars ever say, "I love."
Tuesday, December 4, 2007
Your Own Gift
Do you ever wish you had the talent and influence of your favorite Christian singer or author, or even the head pastor of the local megachurch? Do you feel guilty because Martin Luther began the day with three hours of prayer, while you can hardly find an unbroken fifteen minutes? Do you wonder how the Lord can ever do anything through someone as ordinary as you?
Perhaps some of the early Christians, observing the great works and sermons of the apostles, wondered the same thing. "I can't perform miracles like John. I can't convert thousands with one sermon like Peter. What can God ever do through me?"
For one thing, He could start the church at Antioch, the first congregation to win significant numbers of non-Jewish converts and the one that gave the world the word "Christian." No names of the original founders are on record; they were simply "those who had been scattered by the persecution in [Jerusalem and were] telling... the good news about the Lord Jesus" (Acts 11:19:20, NIV). The result of what these "very ordinary" people did? "A great number of people believed and turned to the Lord" (v. 21).
We tend to discount anything that doesn't obviously shake the world. But Jesus Himself said our small acts of kindness are remembered in heaven (Mt. 10:40-42; 25:31-40). God is in the business of building not dazzling careers and earthly empires, but a spiritual Kingdom of pure souls. Our "little deeds," done in obedience to Him and for His glory, may make great leaps toward that end.
Provided we are wise enough not to pass opportunities by as "unimportant."
If you can't pray from morning to evening,
As you've heard some great saints would do,
You can work with one ear to God's calling,
Well alert to His leading for you.
If you can't write a Pauline Epistle,
If you can't equal Lewis or Stott,
You can send notes of hope to your neighbor,
Or show love to a soul life forgot.
If you can't hope to walk on the water,
If you can't speak like Billy Graham,
Be assured God has work for your talents:
So don't study another's exam!
Perhaps some of the early Christians, observing the great works and sermons of the apostles, wondered the same thing. "I can't perform miracles like John. I can't convert thousands with one sermon like Peter. What can God ever do through me?"
For one thing, He could start the church at Antioch, the first congregation to win significant numbers of non-Jewish converts and the one that gave the world the word "Christian." No names of the original founders are on record; they were simply "those who had been scattered by the persecution in [Jerusalem and were] telling... the good news about the Lord Jesus" (Acts 11:19:20, NIV). The result of what these "very ordinary" people did? "A great number of people believed and turned to the Lord" (v. 21).
We tend to discount anything that doesn't obviously shake the world. But Jesus Himself said our small acts of kindness are remembered in heaven (Mt. 10:40-42; 25:31-40). God is in the business of building not dazzling careers and earthly empires, but a spiritual Kingdom of pure souls. Our "little deeds," done in obedience to Him and for His glory, may make great leaps toward that end.
Provided we are wise enough not to pass opportunities by as "unimportant."
If you can't pray from morning to evening,
As you've heard some great saints would do,
You can work with one ear to God's calling,
Well alert to His leading for you.
If you can't write a Pauline Epistle,
If you can't equal Lewis or Stott,
You can send notes of hope to your neighbor,
Or show love to a soul life forgot.
If you can't hope to walk on the water,
If you can't speak like Billy Graham,
Be assured God has work for your talents:
So don't study another's exam!
Monday, December 3, 2007
Song of the Seasons
"Heaven must be a wonderful place," said the child, "because even the wrong side is so pretty." Anyone who has ever counted stars on a clear country night; or seen a brilliant rainbow, sunrise, or sunset; or drunk in a cloudless day of just the right temperature (especially at the end of a sweltering summer or frigid winter), would agree.
Since Advent began yesterday, today's poem is in the style of a traditional Christmas carol. Therefore, it starts the four seasons with winter and a snow-filled sky. Now, I'm well aware that the holidays don't mean snow for everyone. As a Houstonian, I can even after living thirty-eight Christmases count the white ones I have seen and have fingers left over; but so what? Bible scholars agree that it probably wasn't snowing, or even winter, on the night Jesus was actually born either. Yet, taken as a metaphor, a snow-covered landscape seems such a fitting backdrop for the Christmas story: stark, bare, virtually lifeless, yet strangely pure and beautiful--inviting and forbidding at the same time. What better setting for the coming of the One Who takes cold, lifeless hearts and makes them fresh and pristine?
The winter sky shines silver when the snow starts to fall,
And God sent forth a Savior to die for us all.
And God sent forth a Savior to show us His love,
Who still pours forth His blessing from the sky up above.
The springtime sky shines bluer than the waves of the sea,
And God sent forth a Savior to set us all free.
And God sent forth a Savior to show us His love,
Who still pours forth His blessing from the sky up above.
The summer sky shines golden at the dawning of day,
And God sent forth a Savior to show us the Way.
And God sent forth a Savior to show us His love,
Who still pours forth His blessing from the sky up above.
The autumn sky shines crimson when the sun starts to set,
And God gave us His Scriptures that we might not forget.
And God sent forth a Savior to show us His love,
Who still pours forth His blessing from the sky up above.
Since Advent began yesterday, today's poem is in the style of a traditional Christmas carol. Therefore, it starts the four seasons with winter and a snow-filled sky. Now, I'm well aware that the holidays don't mean snow for everyone. As a Houstonian, I can even after living thirty-eight Christmases count the white ones I have seen and have fingers left over; but so what? Bible scholars agree that it probably wasn't snowing, or even winter, on the night Jesus was actually born either. Yet, taken as a metaphor, a snow-covered landscape seems such a fitting backdrop for the Christmas story: stark, bare, virtually lifeless, yet strangely pure and beautiful--inviting and forbidding at the same time. What better setting for the coming of the One Who takes cold, lifeless hearts and makes them fresh and pristine?
The winter sky shines silver when the snow starts to fall,
And God sent forth a Savior to die for us all.
And God sent forth a Savior to show us His love,
Who still pours forth His blessing from the sky up above.
The springtime sky shines bluer than the waves of the sea,
And God sent forth a Savior to set us all free.
And God sent forth a Savior to show us His love,
Who still pours forth His blessing from the sky up above.
The summer sky shines golden at the dawning of day,
And God sent forth a Savior to show us the Way.
And God sent forth a Savior to show us His love,
Who still pours forth His blessing from the sky up above.
The autumn sky shines crimson when the sun starts to set,
And God gave us His Scriptures that we might not forget.
And God sent forth a Savior to show us His love,
Who still pours forth His blessing from the sky up above.
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