It dawned on me today that God might find my prayer life rather annoying. He invites me to come because he loves me and knows I need his inspiration, comfort and strength. But often I go to God thinking I only need him because of this sudden problem in my life. If he would just fix that, I'd be happy and go back to not needing him more. Cause I basically have "normal life" under control, it is only these crises when I need his help.
How shortsighted my heart is. Open my eyes, Lord, to see your great willingness for me to draw near, and my great need to draw near.
The moon
Shining silvery light in our darkness. In itself sterile rock, but reflecting solar glory to us when the sun is hidden from view. The moon is like a parable of the spiritual life -- can we faithfully reflect God's light and love around us?
Isaiah calls us to shine his light:
“Arise, shine, for your light has come,
and the glory of the Lord rises upon you.
See, darkness covers the earth
and thick darkness is over the peoples,
but the Lord rises upon you
and his glory appears over you.
Nations will come to your light,
and kings to the brightness of your dawn."
Paul also suggests the same image in 2 Corinthians 3:18
"And we all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit."
Two thoughts
1) "The joy of the Lord is my strength." Nehemiah 8:10. In context, Nehemiah is telling the people not to grieve as they hear the law being read, but to rejoice. How can one rejoice when the law is read? You can rejoice in the Gospel, but in the law? Maybe we don't understand the law rightly to think of it as just what we're supposed to do or not do. The Torah also shows the mighty God making covenants and rescuing his people, that is certainly "rejoice-able."
2) The title "Lord of Hosts" reflects God's power. But what do the hosts of angels add to the power of Almighty God? Nothing, really. Maybe "Lord of Hosts" really ought to be a sign of God's gracious willingness to give lesser beings significant roles in his plans.
2) The title "Lord of Hosts" reflects God's power. But what do the hosts of angels add to the power of Almighty God? Nothing, really. Maybe "Lord of Hosts" really ought to be a sign of God's gracious willingness to give lesser beings significant roles in his plans.
Commandments and Grace
The other day I read through the passage of God giving the Ten Commandments to Moses (Exodus 19, 20). I felt puzzled, if God is a God of grace, not of law, why did he reveal these commandments so dramatically? As I read, the second commandment frightened me. "for I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me" ((Exodus 20:5). But verse 6 had a greater promise than the threat in verse 5. " but showing love to a thousand generations of those who love me and keep my commandments." ((Exodus 20:6), so I saw even in these commandments there is an emphasis on grace.
Then I turned to 2 Corinthians, where Paul talks about the new and old covenants. "He has made us competent as ministers of a new covenant—not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life. Now if the ministry that brought death, which was engraved in letters on stone, came with glory, so that the Israelites could not look steadily at the face of Moses because of its glory, transitory though it was, will not the ministry of the Spirit be even more glorious? If the ministry that brought condemnation was glorious, how much more glorious is the ministry that brings righteousness!" (2 Corinthians 3:6-9). How glorious, God gives us the Spirit, and writes the law, not with his finger on stone tablets, but with his spirit on our hearts.
I perceived and could rejoice that God had given his commandments -- I know I have longed for things I was not meant to have, things it is impossible to have. It is God's law that showed me I should say "no" to those desires. And having said "no," I rejoice in the grace that enables me to say "no," that assures me that I don't have to have what I want to be happy. "For the grace of God has appeared that offers salvation to everyone. It teaches us to say “No” to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age," (Titus 2:11-12).
Paul's prayers and ours
Paul's prayer for the Colossian church struck me anew the other day.
I often pray, for myself or for others, for a problem free life. When there is a problem, God, take it away!
Last night as I prayed, I focused on that first clause. Fill us, fill our brothers with the knowledge of his will. I thought of several other things we all needed to be filled with the knowledge of. Fill us, God, with the knowledge of your presence with us. Fill us, God, with the knowledge of your grace. Fill us God with the knowledge of your holiness; that you are so totally and awesomely yourself, and invite us to know you and be like you.
We continually ask God to fill you with the knowledge of his will through all the wisdom and understanding that the Spirit gives, so that you may live a life worthy of the Lord and please him in every way: bearing fruit in every good work, growing in the knowledge of God, being strengthened with all power according to his glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience, and giving joyful thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of his holy people in the kingdom of light. Colossians 1:9-12Paul prayed for these believers to be filled with the knowledge of God, that they would bear fruit in every good work, be strengthened with all God's power for endurance and patience, and that they would be thankful.
I often pray, for myself or for others, for a problem free life. When there is a problem, God, take it away!
Last night as I prayed, I focused on that first clause. Fill us, fill our brothers with the knowledge of his will. I thought of several other things we all needed to be filled with the knowledge of. Fill us, God, with the knowledge of your presence with us. Fill us, God, with the knowledge of your grace. Fill us God with the knowledge of your holiness; that you are so totally and awesomely yourself, and invite us to know you and be like you.
Forty one years ago
I read some Scriptures.
First one: "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God," This made sense to me, I knew I was imperfect, that I had no perfection inside I just needed to let out.
Second one: "For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord."
The guy pointing these out to me said that what we could earn by our efforts was only death, but God offered us salvation as a gift. I'm not sure I believed all that in that moment, I've understood it more over the years.
The third one: "Behold, I stand at the door and knock ; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with Me." The guy said this was the invitation, we needed to open the door of our lives and ask Jesus in. When he asked if I wanted to do that, I thought I could give this a try and see what happened. So I prayed to receive Christ, and felt an astonishing sense of peace for an hour or two. Then the emotion faded.
I've heard preaching that this verse really is not an appeal to nonbelievers to come to Christ for the first time, but an appeal to believers to keep on doing what they are supposed to do. That makes sense, because the message to the church in Laodicea (Rev 3:14-22) is that they are not nearly as good Christians as they think they are. The larger context is an appeal, "stop thinking you're so great, you've arrived. Come to me again, you need me as much as you ever did." The call to relationship to Jesus is true whether we've been Christians for years or never been Christians at all before.
Forty one years ago, I came for a relationship with Jesus. I still keep coming back for more.
First one: "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God," This made sense to me, I knew I was imperfect, that I had no perfection inside I just needed to let out.
Second one: "For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord."
The guy pointing these out to me said that what we could earn by our efforts was only death, but God offered us salvation as a gift. I'm not sure I believed all that in that moment, I've understood it more over the years.
The third one: "Behold, I stand at the door and knock ; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with Me." The guy said this was the invitation, we needed to open the door of our lives and ask Jesus in. When he asked if I wanted to do that, I thought I could give this a try and see what happened. So I prayed to receive Christ, and felt an astonishing sense of peace for an hour or two. Then the emotion faded.
I've heard preaching that this verse really is not an appeal to nonbelievers to come to Christ for the first time, but an appeal to believers to keep on doing what they are supposed to do. That makes sense, because the message to the church in Laodicea (Rev 3:14-22) is that they are not nearly as good Christians as they think they are. The larger context is an appeal, "stop thinking you're so great, you've arrived. Come to me again, you need me as much as you ever did." The call to relationship to Jesus is true whether we've been Christians for years or never been Christians at all before.
Forty one years ago, I came for a relationship with Jesus. I still keep coming back for more.
The sufferings of Christ
Paul says an unusual thing in 2 Corinthians 1:4,5. "[God] comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows."
What does it mean that the sufferings of Christ overflow into our lives? Isn't faith our ticket to health and prosperity? Didn't Christ suffer so we wouldn't have to?
While it is true that Christ's sacrifice on the cross spares us from suffering the wrath of God, it is not God's will to spare us all suffering. Verse 4 makes it clear that when we are troubled, and are comforted by God, that should prepare us to comfort others. So the notion that faith should make us always successful, never experiencing any major ailments or disappointments doesn't come from the Scriptures. Peter tells us too that trials come to refine our faith, and that when they come, we should not be surprised as though something weird were happening. 1 Peter 1:6-7, 1 Peter 4:12.
We all want a comfortable existence, and we know God has the power to give us one, so it is probably all too natural that we should hope and wish for comfort with no trials. But trials and suffering are something God has for us: to refine our faith, to encourage us to trust Him, as we experience His comfort in our trials, and to enable us to comfort others.
A couple of years ago I re-read Hinds Feet in High Places. In the allegory, Much-Afraid's two companions are Sorrow and Suffering, and the three go through many painful moments before Much Afraid gets her hinds feet. When I first read this in college, I remember hoping that I wouldn't be one of the few that had to learn character through sufferings. Because surely that only applied to a few people, right? Coming back to the book years later, while I have not suffered in any dramatic way (no chronic illnesses, no tragic bereavements), I have known lots of disappointments, and the message seems a lot more relevant to me.
Another thought -- we're often told, both implicitly and explicitly, to not focus on our own problems but to focus on the problems of others. Certainly good advice, but perhaps Paul would modify that slightly. We should present our problems to God -- not because they are worse than anything anyone else goes through, or more important than what others go through, but because when we do and receive comfort from God, we will be better equipped to comfort others. Perhaps to say "my troubles are nothing compared to so and so's heartaches" can come out of pride. I won't admit my weaknesses, I will minimize my weaknesses, and just care for others because I am OK -- might that be prideful, not godly?
What does it mean that the sufferings of Christ overflow into our lives? Isn't faith our ticket to health and prosperity? Didn't Christ suffer so we wouldn't have to?
While it is true that Christ's sacrifice on the cross spares us from suffering the wrath of God, it is not God's will to spare us all suffering. Verse 4 makes it clear that when we are troubled, and are comforted by God, that should prepare us to comfort others. So the notion that faith should make us always successful, never experiencing any major ailments or disappointments doesn't come from the Scriptures. Peter tells us too that trials come to refine our faith, and that when they come, we should not be surprised as though something weird were happening. 1 Peter 1:6-7, 1 Peter 4:12.
We all want a comfortable existence, and we know God has the power to give us one, so it is probably all too natural that we should hope and wish for comfort with no trials. But trials and suffering are something God has for us: to refine our faith, to encourage us to trust Him, as we experience His comfort in our trials, and to enable us to comfort others.
A couple of years ago I re-read Hinds Feet in High Places. In the allegory, Much-Afraid's two companions are Sorrow and Suffering, and the three go through many painful moments before Much Afraid gets her hinds feet. When I first read this in college, I remember hoping that I wouldn't be one of the few that had to learn character through sufferings. Because surely that only applied to a few people, right? Coming back to the book years later, while I have not suffered in any dramatic way (no chronic illnesses, no tragic bereavements), I have known lots of disappointments, and the message seems a lot more relevant to me.
Another thought -- we're often told, both implicitly and explicitly, to not focus on our own problems but to focus on the problems of others. Certainly good advice, but perhaps Paul would modify that slightly. We should present our problems to God -- not because they are worse than anything anyone else goes through, or more important than what others go through, but because when we do and receive comfort from God, we will be better equipped to comfort others. Perhaps to say "my troubles are nothing compared to so and so's heartaches" can come out of pride. I won't admit my weaknesses, I will minimize my weaknesses, and just care for others because I am OK -- might that be prideful, not godly?
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