In the three years since Hurricane Katrina ripped through the New Orleans area, Gulf Coast residents have regarded the June-November hurricane season with greater-than-ever apprehension. Notwithstanding that 2006 and 2007 were relatively mild, talk of "increased hurricane activity in the face of global warming" continues.
Not that the weather has to unleash an all-out hurricane to cause disaster. Living in Houston for thirty-five years, I have waded through a fair number of floods caused by milder tropical storms, even by small-but-intense thunderstorms. Thankfully, the water has never come as high as my door; but more than once I have seen nearby streets overflowing to the sidewalk.
One characteristic of a really bad storm is the thickness and blackness of the clouds. Sometimes the midday visibility level falls as low as at night. And in all but the lightest rains, every car's headlights go on regardless of the hour.
There are times when one wishes that lighting up one's mood were as simple. Anyone who has ever wrestled with severe depression knows that "misery" is too mild a word for the overwhelming sense that the world is dark and hopeless. Sometimes there is an obvious cause--a death in the family, the loss of a job--but it is also possible to feel "absolutely nothing matters" with no logical reason. Cheering up from such deep depression takes more than flipping a switch (or popping a pill).
Even immersing ourselves in the true light of God's Word (cf. Ps. 119:105) may not be a "quick fix." Those of us in the computerized, high-speed world hate to wait, especially for things that make us feel good. But demanding that God cheer us up "immediately" is not likely to work any better than insisting He make the sun rise at 2 a.m.
But it always does rise--in His time. We need to perservere in prayer and Scriptural meditation through our dark hours, trusting that He will likewise bring light to our souls according to His own perfect schedule.
When the day is dark and wet with rain
And the world seems lost in endless gloom,
The sun still shines behind the clouds,
And will show again as the sky makes room.
When the night shows neither moon nor stars
And the world is lost to human sight,
The sun still shines around the world,
And will rise again with the morning light.
When all life seems dark with bleak despair
And all hope lost in a grim, dull daze,
God's Sun still shines to lead us on,
And will yet break through with His hope's bright rays.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
Do You Believe?
The Apostle Thomas gave his name to the phrase "doubting Thomas" when he responded to the news of Christ's resurrection with, "Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe it." Jesus eventually gave Thomas the physical proof he demanded, but He also chided him with, "Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed." (See John 20:24-29.)
Lest we be too hard on Thomas, let us remember that he stands out only because he missed the earliest appearances of the risen Christ; not one of the disciples believed the news when they first heard it! If they wanted proof Jesus had come back, His promise that He would--combined with their having personally seen His miracles and never having known Him to be wrong--should have convinced them even before they saw Him in person. They failed to believe, because they were caught up in their preconceived ideas of what was impossible.
And if we want proof that God will always be there for us, His promise that He will--combined with all the times He has provided for us in the past--should be enough. Often we won't let it be, because we remain caught up in our preconceived ideas of how (and how quickly) He should handle a situation.
Our faith doesn't deserve the name if, like the Israelites in the wilderness, we toss it aside every time the least little thing goes wrong.
Do you believe in light,
Even when in the dark?
Do you fear, when the sun sets,
That it is for good?
No; you trust that the day
Will soon come back again:
Do you trust God's own Light, then,
The way you should?
Do you believe in air,
In the invisible?
Do you fear it will sneak off
Before your next breath?
No; though you see it not,
You still have faith in it:
Do you trust God's own Life, then,
Though facing death?
Do you believe in love,
In what no eyes have seen?
Do you fear all your loved ones
Are lying to you?
No, though you read no minds,
You still trust others' hearts:
Do you trust God's own Love, then,
Mighty and true?
Do you believe in God,
In the Unfathomable,
He Who cares for the hurting
And soothes those who grieve?
We, who now walk in faith,
One day shall look at Him:
We, blessed not to have yet seen,
But to believe.
Lest we be too hard on Thomas, let us remember that he stands out only because he missed the earliest appearances of the risen Christ; not one of the disciples believed the news when they first heard it! If they wanted proof Jesus had come back, His promise that He would--combined with their having personally seen His miracles and never having known Him to be wrong--should have convinced them even before they saw Him in person. They failed to believe, because they were caught up in their preconceived ideas of what was impossible.
And if we want proof that God will always be there for us, His promise that He will--combined with all the times He has provided for us in the past--should be enough. Often we won't let it be, because we remain caught up in our preconceived ideas of how (and how quickly) He should handle a situation.
Our faith doesn't deserve the name if, like the Israelites in the wilderness, we toss it aside every time the least little thing goes wrong.
Do you believe in light,
Even when in the dark?
Do you fear, when the sun sets,
That it is for good?
No; you trust that the day
Will soon come back again:
Do you trust God's own Light, then,
The way you should?
Do you believe in air,
In the invisible?
Do you fear it will sneak off
Before your next breath?
No; though you see it not,
You still have faith in it:
Do you trust God's own Life, then,
Though facing death?
Do you believe in love,
In what no eyes have seen?
Do you fear all your loved ones
Are lying to you?
No, though you read no minds,
You still trust others' hearts:
Do you trust God's own Love, then,
Mighty and true?
Do you believe in God,
In the Unfathomable,
He Who cares for the hurting
And soothes those who grieve?
We, who now walk in faith,
One day shall look at Him:
We, blessed not to have yet seen,
But to believe.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Daily Bread
"Plan for the future" has become an American mantra. Set one-year and five-year goals. Keep six months' worth of living expenses in savings. Set aside a few hundred thousand for retirement.
Not that such advice is all bad, or that we don't need some chiding. At least one in three Americans regularly go to dangerous opposite extremes: letting their savings accounts sit empty; treating credit cards like blank checks; regarding exercise and nutritious eating as optional to good health. But--as even the dedicated planners tacitly admit through their admonitions to prepare for any contingency--there is no way to absolutely ensure a long, healthy, wealthy life. A speeding car can knock anyone from peak physical condition to permanent quadriplegia in a second. And we have no money-back guarantee that our society--which we implicitly count on to sustain our savings--will remain intact and stable for another fifty years.
"Do not boast about tomorrow, for you do not know what a day may bring forth," warned the Proverbs (27:1, NIV).
"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth," Jesus echoed in the Sermon on the Mount. "Do not worry about tomorrow" (Mt. 6:19, 34).
James 4:13-16 adds: "Now listen, you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.' Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, 'If it is the Lord's will, we will live and do this or that.' As it is, you boast and brag. All such boasting is evil."
Planning for the future becomes both foolish and sinful when it leaves God out of the equation. If we aren't careful, we can end up like the rich fool in Luke 12:15-21, who was sure he had enough to support himself in luxury for the rest of his life. And in a way he was right; he didn't live long enough to spend any of it.
The only prudent first step in planning for the future is to submit ourselves to God's plans.
"Give us today our daily bread"--
So goes the ancient prayer,
But most of us would also seek
Tomorrow's and to spare.
We would demand a bakery
With lifetime guarantee,
And would exchange a childlike faith
For things that we can see.
"Give us today our daily bread"--
Yes, so the Scriptures say:
Put off all dread of things to come,
And serve the Lord today.
The Master's path is paved in trust;
The view ahead is dim,
But we can trust the One Who leads
And put our faith in Him.
"Give us today our daily bread,"
For we can eat no more;
For all who stuff tomorrow's in
Add groaning to the store.
Some rich and poor alike die young;
No earthly thing is sure--
So eat your daily bread for strength
To build what will endure.
Not that such advice is all bad, or that we don't need some chiding. At least one in three Americans regularly go to dangerous opposite extremes: letting their savings accounts sit empty; treating credit cards like blank checks; regarding exercise and nutritious eating as optional to good health. But--as even the dedicated planners tacitly admit through their admonitions to prepare for any contingency--there is no way to absolutely ensure a long, healthy, wealthy life. A speeding car can knock anyone from peak physical condition to permanent quadriplegia in a second. And we have no money-back guarantee that our society--which we implicitly count on to sustain our savings--will remain intact and stable for another fifty years.
"Do not boast about tomorrow, for you do not know what a day may bring forth," warned the Proverbs (27:1, NIV).
"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth," Jesus echoed in the Sermon on the Mount. "Do not worry about tomorrow" (Mt. 6:19, 34).
James 4:13-16 adds: "Now listen, you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we will go to this or that city, spend a year there, carry on business and make money.' Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead, you ought to say, 'If it is the Lord's will, we will live and do this or that.' As it is, you boast and brag. All such boasting is evil."
Planning for the future becomes both foolish and sinful when it leaves God out of the equation. If we aren't careful, we can end up like the rich fool in Luke 12:15-21, who was sure he had enough to support himself in luxury for the rest of his life. And in a way he was right; he didn't live long enough to spend any of it.
The only prudent first step in planning for the future is to submit ourselves to God's plans.
"Give us today our daily bread"--
So goes the ancient prayer,
But most of us would also seek
Tomorrow's and to spare.
We would demand a bakery
With lifetime guarantee,
And would exchange a childlike faith
For things that we can see.
"Give us today our daily bread"--
Yes, so the Scriptures say:
Put off all dread of things to come,
And serve the Lord today.
The Master's path is paved in trust;
The view ahead is dim,
But we can trust the One Who leads
And put our faith in Him.
"Give us today our daily bread,"
For we can eat no more;
For all who stuff tomorrow's in
Add groaning to the store.
Some rich and poor alike die young;
No earthly thing is sure--
So eat your daily bread for strength
To build what will endure.
Monday, June 9, 2008
Hunger and Thirst
"Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled" (Mt. 5:6, NIV).
Have you ever been thirsty--really thirsty--for God and His righteousness? Have you ever come to church, or to your private prayer time, as eagerly as you sit down to a good meal after a day of hard labor, or approach a water fountain after a long, hot walk?
If you have to answer "no," don't feel too guilty--you've got plenty of company. Most Christians in wealthy, free societies take our faith somewhat for granted. We treat church as an optional activity or even an annoying obligation; we rarely bother to open our Bibles; and we call it "prayer" when we say a quick "bless the world" before falling asleep.
Why don't we appreciate the incomparable blessing of God's even deigning to pay attention to us? Probably for the same reason that those who have food constantly on hand complain about what they were served for dinner. If we had to worship in secret because there were armed soldiers everywhere enforcing a law against religion--if there were no Bibles available or if we were illiterate and unable to read them--odds are we'd more than appreciate the chance to hear even a little of God's Word. But where there are churches on every corner and Bibles in every bookstore, we figure they'll be there when--if!--we "need" them.
And we forget to be grateful for being saved because we forget what it was like to be lost. How often do you give conscious thought to the air you breathe? But trap someone underwater for ninety seconds and he'll wholeheartedly thank God for that air when he finally comes up. That's how desperate a situation we were in before Christ saved us from our sins--and that's how thankful we should be.
Dying of hunger or thirst is a terrible thing. But being accomplices to our own spiritual starvation is far worse.
The hunger for food can gnaw within
And displace all other concerns:
Would that we were equally hungry for God,
For Whom every pure heart yearns!
The thirst for a drink can burn the throat
Till the stalest water tastes sweet:
Would that we were equally thirsty for Christ,
And so longed our great Lord to meet!
The gasping for air, the search for breath,
Cuts as sharp as a jagged knife:
Would that we were equally desperate for Truth,
And the Spirit that gives us life!
Have you ever been thirsty--really thirsty--for God and His righteousness? Have you ever come to church, or to your private prayer time, as eagerly as you sit down to a good meal after a day of hard labor, or approach a water fountain after a long, hot walk?
If you have to answer "no," don't feel too guilty--you've got plenty of company. Most Christians in wealthy, free societies take our faith somewhat for granted. We treat church as an optional activity or even an annoying obligation; we rarely bother to open our Bibles; and we call it "prayer" when we say a quick "bless the world" before falling asleep.
Why don't we appreciate the incomparable blessing of God's even deigning to pay attention to us? Probably for the same reason that those who have food constantly on hand complain about what they were served for dinner. If we had to worship in secret because there were armed soldiers everywhere enforcing a law against religion--if there were no Bibles available or if we were illiterate and unable to read them--odds are we'd more than appreciate the chance to hear even a little of God's Word. But where there are churches on every corner and Bibles in every bookstore, we figure they'll be there when--if!--we "need" them.
And we forget to be grateful for being saved because we forget what it was like to be lost. How often do you give conscious thought to the air you breathe? But trap someone underwater for ninety seconds and he'll wholeheartedly thank God for that air when he finally comes up. That's how desperate a situation we were in before Christ saved us from our sins--and that's how thankful we should be.
Dying of hunger or thirst is a terrible thing. But being accomplices to our own spiritual starvation is far worse.
The hunger for food can gnaw within
And displace all other concerns:
Would that we were equally hungry for God,
For Whom every pure heart yearns!
The thirst for a drink can burn the throat
Till the stalest water tastes sweet:
Would that we were equally thirsty for Christ,
And so longed our great Lord to meet!
The gasping for air, the search for breath,
Cuts as sharp as a jagged knife:
Would that we were equally desperate for Truth,
And the Spirit that gives us life!
Thursday, June 5, 2008
God's Kingdom
There are times when even the most vibrant spirit feels it can hardly take any more of this world. When conversations constantly turn toward rising prices, rumors of wars, environmental disaster, and imminent collapse of Social Security; when the doctor finds a tumor and you're already out of work with bills two weeks overdue; when To Do lists get so long that it seems the only hope for rest is to land in the hospital--then the prayer "Thy Kingdom come" takes on special urgency.
Not that there's anything inherently wrong with that--the Bible itself urges us to pray for Christ's coming (cf. Rev. 22:20). Life's troubles are actually a blessing in that they keep us from loving this world too much for our own good. But if our only motive for wanting the Kingdom to come is to see an end to our problems, the prayer intended to express a yearning for God's glory and righteousness becomes a cry of selfishness. Especially if we are unwilling to make the effort to be productive citizens of the Kingdom.
Heaven does not mean the privilege of lounging around on clouds forever; it means finally being able to worship and serve God with pure, untainted hearts and minds. Work existed in the Garden of Eden before the Fall (Gen. 2:15), so it's safe to assume that God will keep us busy in the future Kingdom. The difference will be freedom from frustration and reluctance; we will serve God with our all because we will love Him with our all.
It's a good idea to practice for that time right now. If your first thought tomorrow morning (and this can happen to "morning people" as well) is, "Do I have to get up?" try immediately replacing that thought with this one:
"God has wonderful things in store for me today, and I am so blessed to have the privilege of serving His Kingdom."
There's a crown for every servant
In a land with just one King;
It's a place where least is greatest,
And to work a joyous thing;
It's a Kingdom where the wisest
Is as trusting as a child,
And a world where every question
Will at last be reconciled.
It's God's country, everlasting,
Where all pain at last will end,
Each of us a prince or princess,
Every stranger turned a friend.
If you wish to seek this Kingdom
Where all saints one day will stand,
Use your earthly life to practice
All the servant-love you can.
Not that there's anything inherently wrong with that--the Bible itself urges us to pray for Christ's coming (cf. Rev. 22:20). Life's troubles are actually a blessing in that they keep us from loving this world too much for our own good. But if our only motive for wanting the Kingdom to come is to see an end to our problems, the prayer intended to express a yearning for God's glory and righteousness becomes a cry of selfishness. Especially if we are unwilling to make the effort to be productive citizens of the Kingdom.
Heaven does not mean the privilege of lounging around on clouds forever; it means finally being able to worship and serve God with pure, untainted hearts and minds. Work existed in the Garden of Eden before the Fall (Gen. 2:15), so it's safe to assume that God will keep us busy in the future Kingdom. The difference will be freedom from frustration and reluctance; we will serve God with our all because we will love Him with our all.
It's a good idea to practice for that time right now. If your first thought tomorrow morning (and this can happen to "morning people" as well) is, "Do I have to get up?" try immediately replacing that thought with this one:
"God has wonderful things in store for me today, and I am so blessed to have the privilege of serving His Kingdom."
There's a crown for every servant
In a land with just one King;
It's a place where least is greatest,
And to work a joyous thing;
It's a Kingdom where the wisest
Is as trusting as a child,
And a world where every question
Will at last be reconciled.
It's God's country, everlasting,
Where all pain at last will end,
Each of us a prince or princess,
Every stranger turned a friend.
If you wish to seek this Kingdom
Where all saints one day will stand,
Use your earthly life to practice
All the servant-love you can.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Lord, Keep Me Close to You
"My sheep [people] listen to my voice," said Jesus. "I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand. My Father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father's hand" (Jn. 10:27-29, NIV).
Notice that Jesus doesn't tell us to hold on to God's hand! There are plenty of believers who are letting anxiety eat them up because they feel they aren't strong enough to "hang on" as Christians. Of course they aren't; no one is! But God isn't dangling us from the end of a pole that He plans to drop if the weight of our failures gets too heavy. He isn't even holding us just by one hand; He has a firm grip on the whole of each of us.
Anyone who has raised children knows that, when you take a preschooler across a busy street, you may say "Hold on to my hand," but you're also careful to keep your own, stronger grip firmly on his hand. And if the way is obviously too hard for his young legs, you pick him up and carry him. That's what God does for us; He knows we're too weak to get anywhere on our own, but He loves us enough to give us all the help we need.
The One Who is greater than all isn't about to drop us.
Lord, keep me close to You
Through day and night:
When hope grows dark and dim,
Be my soul's light;
When life is rich and glad,
Let me still know
All comes from You alone,
Each place I go.
Lord, keep me close to You
In heart and mind:
Let not my wandering thoughts
Leave You behind;
When I am tempted by
Worry and fear,
Deepen my trust in You,
For You stand near.
Lord, keep me close to You
Till my life's end:
Walk with me night and day
As my true Friend;
And when this earthly life
Closes its door,
Bring me home safe with You,
Close evermore.
Notice that Jesus doesn't tell us to hold on to God's hand! There are plenty of believers who are letting anxiety eat them up because they feel they aren't strong enough to "hang on" as Christians. Of course they aren't; no one is! But God isn't dangling us from the end of a pole that He plans to drop if the weight of our failures gets too heavy. He isn't even holding us just by one hand; He has a firm grip on the whole of each of us.
Anyone who has raised children knows that, when you take a preschooler across a busy street, you may say "Hold on to my hand," but you're also careful to keep your own, stronger grip firmly on his hand. And if the way is obviously too hard for his young legs, you pick him up and carry him. That's what God does for us; He knows we're too weak to get anywhere on our own, but He loves us enough to give us all the help we need.
The One Who is greater than all isn't about to drop us.
Lord, keep me close to You
Through day and night:
When hope grows dark and dim,
Be my soul's light;
When life is rich and glad,
Let me still know
All comes from You alone,
Each place I go.
Lord, keep me close to You
In heart and mind:
Let not my wandering thoughts
Leave You behind;
When I am tempted by
Worry and fear,
Deepen my trust in You,
For You stand near.
Lord, keep me close to You
Till my life's end:
Walk with me night and day
As my true Friend;
And when this earthly life
Closes its door,
Bring me home safe with You,
Close evermore.
Monday, June 2, 2008
All That I Have is Yours, O Lord
"But who am I, and who are my people, that we should be able to give as generously as this?" prayed King David as Israel dedicated its contributions toward the future Temple. "Everything comes from you, and we have given you only what comes from your hand" (1 Chron. 29:14, NIV).
There are quite a few Christians today who could learn from David's attitude. Research consistently shows that as many as ninety-seven percent of us give less than ten percent of our income to Christian causes. And when we do put money in the offering plate--or spend part of our free time volunteering at church, or donate our old clothes to charity drives--we act as if we're doing God a big favor by deigning to notice Him. When we hear of someone who gave away her new clothes, or gives ninety percent of his income to the church, or left a thriving business to become a career missionary in a country that doesn't even have indoor plumbing--and who is brimming with joy over the privilege--our reaction is as likely as not to be, "This person must be a little weird in the head."
We could remedy part of the problem by cleaning up our language a bit. Instead of legitimitizing selfishness by constantly saying "my income, my car, my time, my life," we might adopt the philosophy attributed to entrepreneur and lay evangelist Robert LeTourneau: "The question is not how much of my money [or any other resource] do I give to God, but how much of God's money do I keep for myself." It's not simply a matter of how much we drop in the church plate, either; we can donate twenty percent of our income and still effectively keep it for ourselves, if we treat it as a "tip" to ensure God will prosper us in return, or if we expect human applause for our generosity. Likewise, we can spend part of our income on simply enjoying ourselves and still give it to God, if we enjoy ourselves in thankfulness to Him.
But let's start by giving the "firstfruits" directly to God's people and their work. If Christians took this responsibility seriously, there'd be no complaining that "the church is always asking for money."
The worst problem would be the one recorded in Exodus 36:3-7--that people were giving too much.
All that I have is Yours, O Lord,
For all has come from You:
You give the strength that drives my hands--
The brain that guides them, too;
So how can I say all my wealth
Was earned as rightful due?
You gave me all my property--
I give it back to You.
All that I have is Yours, O Lord,
For all has come from You:
You preordained each year I live--
Each hour and minute, too;
So how can I say I have right
To choose what I should do?
You gave the precious gift of time--
I give it back to You.
All that I have is Yours, O Lord,
For all has come from You:
Your very life was paid for mine--
For all I proved untrue,
For all my pride and hardened heart,
That pierced Your own heart through,
Your mercy gave me back my life--
I give it back to You.
There are quite a few Christians today who could learn from David's attitude. Research consistently shows that as many as ninety-seven percent of us give less than ten percent of our income to Christian causes. And when we do put money in the offering plate--or spend part of our free time volunteering at church, or donate our old clothes to charity drives--we act as if we're doing God a big favor by deigning to notice Him. When we hear of someone who gave away her new clothes, or gives ninety percent of his income to the church, or left a thriving business to become a career missionary in a country that doesn't even have indoor plumbing--and who is brimming with joy over the privilege--our reaction is as likely as not to be, "This person must be a little weird in the head."
We could remedy part of the problem by cleaning up our language a bit. Instead of legitimitizing selfishness by constantly saying "my income, my car, my time, my life," we might adopt the philosophy attributed to entrepreneur and lay evangelist Robert LeTourneau: "The question is not how much of my money [or any other resource] do I give to God, but how much of God's money do I keep for myself." It's not simply a matter of how much we drop in the church plate, either; we can donate twenty percent of our income and still effectively keep it for ourselves, if we treat it as a "tip" to ensure God will prosper us in return, or if we expect human applause for our generosity. Likewise, we can spend part of our income on simply enjoying ourselves and still give it to God, if we enjoy ourselves in thankfulness to Him.
But let's start by giving the "firstfruits" directly to God's people and their work. If Christians took this responsibility seriously, there'd be no complaining that "the church is always asking for money."
The worst problem would be the one recorded in Exodus 36:3-7--that people were giving too much.
All that I have is Yours, O Lord,
For all has come from You:
You give the strength that drives my hands--
The brain that guides them, too;
So how can I say all my wealth
Was earned as rightful due?
You gave me all my property--
I give it back to You.
All that I have is Yours, O Lord,
For all has come from You:
You preordained each year I live--
Each hour and minute, too;
So how can I say I have right
To choose what I should do?
You gave the precious gift of time--
I give it back to You.
All that I have is Yours, O Lord,
For all has come from You:
Your very life was paid for mine--
For all I proved untrue,
For all my pride and hardened heart,
That pierced Your own heart through,
Your mercy gave me back my life--
I give it back to You.
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