Because He loves us all.
There are a few days in the history of the world that have changed life for all Earth’s inhabitants forever. Today is one of them. Anyone reading this knows the many stories and all their ramifications only too well.
September 11 is holy ground. I cannot bring myself to walk on it – even barefoot – by writing anything more than that. Sometimes when you don’t know what to say it is best not to say anything.
A lot of things didn’t happen in my life this week. I didn’t get in an accident, break any bones, or receive a troubling diagnosis. I didn’t fight with my wife, damage friendships, lay awake worrying (too much), or even misplace my car keys. In many respects, it was a nothing week.
Jesus met with a group of people in a house one day. We don’t know the exact number who were there, but the Bible does tell us it was standing room only. In the midst of the gathering, He healed a man of paralysis. The question pops into my mind: “How many people at this get-together realized that they received a miracle?”
Certainly the man who walked for the first time experienced something miraculous. But what about all the ones who got zilch? Did they understand just how fortunate they were?
In this life, which is often filled with trials and disappointments, nothing can be a very welcomed change of pace and a true divine gift. So today, my prayer to God is simple … Thanks for nothing.
I worry too much. And while I tell myself that this helps me avoid a lot of negative situations (there might be a little truth to that), the bigger truth is that most of my fears never come to pass.
Solomon, the wisest man who ever lived, said some things that apply. He starts out with “In the day of prosperity, be joyful.” I need to do that more. Instead, when good things happen, I usually fret that something bad is right around the corner. Interestingly, the Bible does not ignore this possibility, but speaks to it directly in the very next words from Solomon’s pen: “But in the day of adversity, consider.”
Adversity does cause me to consider. It makes me slow down and ponder many deep things of life. I mull over topics like how fortunate I am, how meaningless are the bulk of my concerns, the value of people with whom I share life, the facets of this existence that truly matter vs. those that don’t, etc. At times, the contemplation even reveals ways to navigate through complex issues.
Just enjoying good times, rather than over-thinking them … and using the rough patches to lead me into quiet reflection. After all, “God has made the one as well as the other,” just like Solomon said. Sounds like a peaceful way to live.
Jesus was good friends with a family comprised of three siblings – Mary, Martha, and their brother Lazarus. Scripture tells us that Jesus had a special love for each one and hung out in their home. Likewise, they were generous with hospitality and gifts.
When Lazarus came down with a life-threatening illness, the sisters sent word to Jesus. The Lord’s reaction seems odd … “So, when Jesus heard that Lazarus was sick, He stayed two more days in the place where He was.” I’ve often wondered why Jesus didn’t drop everything and rush to His friend’s side. Isn’t that what a true companion would do?
Even worse, Lazarus died. Of course the rest of the story is that after Jesus finally got there, He called on God and Lazarus came back to life. OK … Jesus held the trump card. Maybe that had something to do with His strange initial response.
Knowing that the situation is under control in the hands of One who is supremely powerful definitely takes the crazy urgency out of the equation. Getting to this realization, however, requires that I spend time in quiet, reflecting on the smallness of even my greatest problem in light of who God is. I’ve got to constantly work on that.
Will this insight cause me to trade in my often chaotic pace for a calm, serene life of saying “What’s the rush”? Well, I’m probably not there yet, but maybe I’ve gained a little perspective.
The first few books of the Bible contain instructions for many different kinds of rituals to be observed by followers of
God. Many of them were very costly to those involved. The one I find most interesting is called the fellowship sacrifice.
True fellowship, what we might refer to today as deep friendship, often involves sacrifices. I’ve been fortunate to observe and receive these often. People have forfeited time to lend an ear to another’s woes, given up personal purchases to help meet a burdensome need, surrendered their own preferences in favor of their brother or sister’s, etc.
No doubt the community of faith is supposed to be one of profoundly close relationships. Sadly, too often people who call each other friends barely get past the superficial. Perhaps that’s because there’s a missing element – one that’s as Biblical as it is painful, and worth every ache. The fellowship sacrifice of course.
Society puts great emphasis on the ability to remember. People with good memories tend to excel in many areas of business and self development. Millions of dollars are spent on supplements and techniques to enable us to recollect facts and events. But the opposite quality is at least equally critical to the spiritual life. That’s the capacity to forget.
The greatest New Testament character (after Jesus), named the habit of forgetting as one of his greatest attributes. In a letter to friends, Paul stated that he couldn’t claim to have reached his goal, but at least he was able to forget the things that were behind him. That, he said, enabled him to look ahead and pursue the prize promised by God.
Memories often contain negative baggage. When I dwell on the things I’ve done wrong or wish I would have done better, or when I ponder how I feel others have let me down, I get stuck in a rut. Better to lay it aside and move on. At the root of this lack-of-recall skill is love, which the Bible says allows me to forget the wrongs I’ve suffered … at my own hand or from other people.
“Forget” is a verb. Forgetfulness is an intentional act of my will, and one that will help me on the journey of faith. I’m going to do my best to remember that.
I recently went on an incredible vacation. The trip was generously bestowed to my wife and me, free of charge. We could scarcely have afforded it on our own and will certainly never be able to reimburse the person who gave it to us (nor are we expected to.) This reminded me of something Jesus said:
“When you put on a luncheon or a dinner, don’t invite your friends, brothers, relatives, and rich neighbors. For they will repay you by inviting you back. Instead, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind. Then at the resurrection of the godly, God will reward you for inviting those who could not repay you.”
In addition to the application in the physical realm – like my recent vacation – there is a spiritual element here as well.
God leads by example. He has prepared many great banquets. At His banquets He serves hope for those with dark futures, peace for the troubled, love for loneliness, and eternal life for fallen beings. What’s more, He invites mankind to come to His banquets and enjoy everything He has to offer. We are the poor, the crippled, the lame, and the blind, who can never repay God.
Thank God for His humility, generosity, and grace, in that He invites us to His banquets. And above all, let’s be sure to attend.
People today have access to enormous amounts of information instantaneously. The flow of new incoming data never stops. For me, the problem lies in taking time to reflect on it.
The Psalmist David begins a famous passage with the words “When I consider.” He lists God’s handiwork, His concern for man, His position in creation, etc. The section of scripture ends with a declaration well known in Christian circles: “Oh Lord, how majestic is your name in all the Earth!” Though I’ve heard these words of praise many times, nobody ever explained to me how David got there… He paused to consider.
I know the alternative far too well. A life of running from one thing to the next. Anxiety. Tension. Perhaps depression.
Making it a priority to just ponder and be contemplative, therefore, has tremendous benefits and can make the difference between stress and peace. The seasons of life when I’ve been successful at this practice – and when I haven’t – are my own personal proof. That’s something worth considering.
People from all facets of experience, from the self help author to the concentration camp survivor, have concluded that the ultimate freedom is the ability to choose one’s response to a situation. Perhaps this is what Jesus meant when He said “Whom the Son sets free is free indeed.”
Confronted with unfairness, my natural tendency is to retaliate. Yet as a follower of Christ, I am free to love in return. When treated unkindly, holding a grudge is a possible reaction. God’s Spirit, however, grants me liberty to forgive. Showing mercy to those who may deserve judgment; finding joy in difficult circumstances; knowing peace through turmoil … these are further freedoms that I enjoy as His child.
The source of all this independence is the bottomless well of grace available to all God’s children. Like beggars assisting other beggars, we draw from it and pass the cup to our companions on the journey. Without this, we would all be prisoners of our selfishness, with no choice but to act accordingly.
It’s good to be free.
Living beings do that which is built into their nature. Fish swim, birds fly, kangaroos hop. I’m a sinner, so I sin.
It’s not that being a sinner is something I especially enjoy. In fact, it’s quite bothersome and leads to all kinds of complications and pain. Fortunately, as years on the spiritual path go by, my transgressions become fewer and less severe overall (with a few exceptions now and then.) Still the truth remains. Even the Bible says it: “If any man says he is without sin, he is a liar.”
It’s good news, therefore, that sin isn’t the end of the road. God in His love created a way out of the muck. After sin comes confession, which simply means agreeing with God that I’ve missed the mark. And next there’s repentance, or turning my behavior around, so that twenty years from now I’m not struggling with the same sins that plague me today … at least not as badly. His forgiveness, which He gives freely, completes the process. Happy day!
That I’m a sinner will not change. Neither will God’s mercy and grace that provide an antidote to the sinful nature within me. It’s a combination He created and is willing to live with, and so am I.
(Thanks, Susan S., for an e-mail discussion that was the genesis for these thoughts.)
Recent Comments