by jphilo | May 2, 2014 | Church Newsletter Columns
So we have the prophetic word made more sure,
to which you do well to pay attention as to a lamp shining in a dark place,
until the day dawns and the morning star arises in your hearts.
2 Peter 1:19
Waiting. I’m not very good at it, as the slow retreat of the winter of 2014 made very clear. Much as I wanted spring to come, nothing could be done but to wait for the snow to melt, the grass to green, the temperatures to rise, the trees to bud, and the flowers to bloom.
So wait I did. Impatiently. Eagerly. Quivering with anticipation for the daffodils to spread their sunshine, for the lilacs to release their fragrance, and for the fawns to creep out, knock-kneed and wonderful, from the underbrush. I waited and waited, all the while asking, “What’s taking so long?”
Now, the wait is over. Each day new sign of the changing seasons creates more joy and gratitude in me than they ever did after easy winters. Everyday, I cherish the beauty of spring, I delight in it more than in the years where the cold was so fleeting there was barely time to anticipate better days to come.
During the cold weeks of March that dragged into April, while waiting for spring and Easter to arrive, my thoughts turned often to those who loved Jesus and witnessed his death on a cross. His followers knew plenty about waiting. After his death, they waited without hope. After his ascension, they waited for the promised power of the Holy Spirit to descend. After Pentacost, they waited for Christ to come in glory and fulfill the promises foretold in Scripture.
For that great and glorious day, we still wait. Impatiently. Eagerly. Quivering with anticipation for Jesus to spread Sonshine over this fallen world, for the fragrance of Christ to be released, and for a new creation to emerge and fill us with wonder. We wait, and we wait, asking over and over and over again, “Lord, what’s taking so long?” But he doesn’t answer.
Or perhaps he does. Perhaps his answer comes, bit by bit, with each day of this long awaited spring. With each cardinal song made more precious by long months of silence. With each ray of dawning light that pierces the darkness a little earlier each morning. With each tulip colored brighter by our hunger for beauty. With each caress of a soft breeze on cheeks once frozen by cold.
Perhaps he is saying that, just as we count a spring slow in coming most precious, so the future return of Christ grows infinitely more valuable through long waiting. Perhaps he is saying that the longer we wait for the glorious day of Christ’s return to dawn, the brighter it will shine. The greater will be our joy. The happier will be our tears. The longer we will dance. And the louder we will sing when the morning star arises forever and for always in our hearts.
by jphilo | Mar 31, 2014 | Church Newsletter Columns
“Why do you seek the living One among the dead? He is not here, but He has risen.
Remember how He spoke to you while He was still in Galilee,
saying that the Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men,
and be crucified, and the third day rise again.”
And they remembered His words…
Luke 24:6–8
Cold. The Winter of 2014 was cold. So long it seemed unending. Hard on people cooped up at home, curtains drawn to block the cold, and in the process blocking out the light as well. In many ways, the winter just passed resembled a cold, dark tomb. Dead and lifeless. Devoid of light.
Even so, I had hope that it would end.
How long? I wondered with eyes searching the landscape for signs of spring. How long will this go on? How much longer will we wait for warmer days filled with light?
As winter’s icy fingers stretched far beyond Ash Wednesday and deep into Lent, my thoughts turned toward the men and women who ministered to Jesus’ body, buried Him, and watched the authorities seal the tomb. Though Jesus had prophesied His death and resurrection, His followers didn’t understand. Therefore, they weren’t waiting for Him to rise from the dead. They were mourning a loss they thought was permanent.
They were without hope.
They didn’t ask, How long until He comes back to life? They asked, How will we live the rest of our days without Him?
Those questions consumed the thoughts of the women who visited the tomb at dawn on the first day of the week. No wonder they were terrified when they saw the stone rolled away. No wonder they bowed low before the two men in dazzling white who asked, Why do you seek the living One among the dead? No wonder they were speechless as they comprehended His prophetic words: The Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, and be crucified, and the third day rise again.
No wonder they began to hope again.
They didn’t say, How can this be? for the Word of Christ, the Word who is Christ resonated in their hearts.
The light of truth flooded the empty tomb. The winter in their souls relinquished its icy hold. New life stirred their hearts and still stirs the hearts of all Christ’s followers: He is who He says He is. He is who our hearts know He is. He is the God who has power over life and death!
Their hope, and ours, is everlasting and eternal.
So this Easter season of new life and light and springtime, we join the saints from throughout the ages and proclaim the joyful truth: Our God lives! Christ is risen! Alleluia!
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by jphilo | Feb 28, 2014 | Church Newsletter Columns
The night is almost gone, and the day is near.
Therefore, let us lay aside the deeds of darkness
and put on the armor of light.
Romans 13:12
Like many people around the world, my husband and I spent much of February watching the Sochi Olympics. We marveled as ski jumpers flew through the air at terrifying speeds, as snow boarders slid down pipes and up inclines, twisting in the air and somehow managing to land upright. We commented on the speed skaters’ massive thigh muscles and on the courage (or foolhardiness) of the luge teams. We watched amazed as figure skaters launched into jumps from impossible positions and completed soaring turns before gracefully landing on a thin, metal skate blade and glided away. Both of our jaws dropped when Julia Lipnitskaia, the young Russian skater, executed a dizzyingly fast spin on one leg while holding her other leg straight up about 4 inches from her face. “How can she keep skating after twisting her body like that?” we asked.
The answer is discipline. Months and years and decades of discipline, combined with the natural talent, was what landed Julia and the other Olympic athletes at the games. Not only discipline to practice their sports every day, but also discipline to eat right, get enough sleep, to fall down and get back up, to encourage and to be encouraged by other athletes.
What motivated them to commit themselves to such rigorous and not always pleasant discipline? The answer is simple. They knew the winter Olympics were scheduled for February 7–23, 2014, and they wanted to be there when the big day arrived.
In Romans, Paul urges believers to apply similar discipline to accomplish the seemingly impossible feat of loving others as we love ourselves. Love others, Paul says, because the night is almost gone, and the day is near. The day of Christ’s returning when this earth will be replaced by new heavens and a new earth, in which righteousness dwells. (2 Peter 3:13)
But why did Paul choose Christ’s coming as motivation for believers to love others? Because the two are closely linked. Because the watching world wants to see if the love we proclaim plays out in our lives. Because when we practice what we preach, Christ uses our love to bring lost hearts to faith in him.
Earlier this year, our small, local church brainstormed ways to reach out and love our community. We voted for our favorites. Now we’re praying about the results to decide how to love our town. Performing the amazing acts of love we select will require discipline. We’ll need to practice. We’ll need to feed on Scripture to seek God’s will. We’ll need to encourage one another to get back up when we fall down.
Our motivation will be the same means Paul used spur on the Romans. It’s the same motivation that spurred believers throughout the centuries to perform amazing feats of love on behalf of the watching world. The night is gone and the day is near. Our motivation is a desire born of love for Christ and the people in our town. We want them to be ready to joyously and expectantly welcome Christ, when the big day arrives.
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by jphilo | Feb 3, 2014 | Church Newsletter Columns
I press on toward the goal to win the prize
for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 3:14
The media’s been having a field day with the interview–or rant, depending on your interpretation–with Richard Sherman after the Seahawks won a spot in this year’s Super Bowl. I observed the brouhaha from the vantage point of a person with zero interest in any sport other than Olympic level figure skating and congratulated myself for devoting my energy and time to better, more dignified pursuits.
Until the recollection of my behavior at our church’s Minute to Win It competition held the same day as the Seahawks game brought me down a peg or two. In case the buzz hasn’t reached you yet, our small church won the competition. We also took possession of the big, shiny, traveling trophy. Which if you’re interested, is on display in the church’s foyer for the next month.
Admittedly, our team won with little assistance from me. Unless my cheering for the more athletic members of our group counts as more help than hindrance. I cheered with gusto matched only by a willingness to interpret the rules so our team would win, WIN, W-I-N! Thankfully, they didn’t take my advice. Instead, they embraced the spirit of the evening and won, won, won by following the rules.
Now when the Richard Sherman interview–or rant–gets air time, I can no longer observe the brouhaha from the vantage point of someone far, far superior to those engaged in this media sports circus frenzy. I must observe it from the vantage point of someone equally capable and culpable of winning-is-all-that-matters behavior.
The implications of this realization stun, scare, and humble me. If I so quickly cast good sportsmanship aside for the sake of a shiny trophy, how might I respond in a situation with much higher stakes? How can I keep that happening?
The truth is that as a frail, feeble human trying to resist temptation on my own, I will fail again. The same truth holds for you, though your temptation may not be a big, shiny trophy gloriously displayed at the church welcome center. But whatever your temptation is, you will also fail to overcome it on your own. Unless you, me, and Richard Sherman have something greater and higher in our lives to motivate us, we will fail again and again and again.
To win we need something–no–we need someone to live for. Someone who is greater than our own whims and desires. Someone able to capture our hearts. Someone who is a prize above and beyond any other. To win, we need Jesus.
We need Jesus in us and beside us. We need his voice whispering truth in our ears when we’re tempted by big, shiny trophies. We need his hands on our shoulders steering us in the right direction. We need his voice cheering us on.
Look up!
Look at me!
Press on toward the goal!
Win the the true prize…eternal life in me!
We need his spirit within us, changing our hearts until, with unfailing certainty, we know Jesus is the true prize, the only prize worth winning.
Photo Credit: www.freedigitalphotos.net
by jphilo | Jan 3, 2014 | Church Newsletter Columns
…for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,
and are justified by his grace as a gift,
through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus…
Romans 3: 23–24
Ruth is one of two women whose names grace a book of the Bible. But Ruth isn’t known as just Ruth. She’s called (insert raised eyebrows here) Ruth the Moabitess. That dicey descriptor brings to mind Rahab’s unwanted appendage: the harlot. That job description stuck for centuries, even when Rabah was touted in the New Testament as an example of faith.
But really, is Moabite status worthy of the same condemnation as harlotry? Well, Deuteronomy 23: 3 says, “No Ammonite or Moabite shall enter the assembly of the Lord; none of the descendants, even to the tenth generation, shall every enter the assembly of the Lord.” That judgement sounds as hopeless as a fallen woman’s.
Yet, mere months after Ruth the Moabitess and Naomi returned to Bethlehem, Ruth was redeemed by Boaz and welcomed into Jewish culture “like Rachel and Leah, both of whom built the house of Israel.” (Ruth 4:11) A stunning turn of events. What possessed Boaz to redeem Ruth the Moabitess so quickly?
Ruth asked him the same thing, and he replied, “All that you have done for your mother-in-law after the death of your husband has been fully reported to me, and how you left your father and your mother and the land of your birth, and came to a people that you did not previously know.”
Notice that Boaz was too polite to say that traveling with Naomi, a founding member of the Bad Mother-in-Law Society, was no picnic. Boaz did hint that, for a Moabitess, living among the people of God was a remarkable act of courage.
More than that, the book of Ruth shows her act was one of redeeming love. Ruth redeemed Naomi by following her after being told to go home. By gleaning in the fields for food, at the risk of sexual assault. By loving an unloveable old woman beyond what she deserved.
Most commentators point to Boaz’s redemption of Ruth as a picture a picture of how Christ Jesus redeems us, Moabites every one. A picture of the once-for-all, grand redemption of our eternal souls that comes through Christ alone.
But Ruth is also a redeemer in this story. She redeemed Naomi life on earth through ordinary, every day acts of provision, companionship, forgiveness, faithfulness, and love. That’s the work God call His redeemed to perform throughout our lives. The work of redeeming the earth and building His kingdom. Like Ruth did for Naomi, and like Jesus, their descendent and Rahab’s, did during His time on this earth.
God saw fit to redeem the earth and build His kingdom in and through Rahab the harlot and Ruth the Moabitess. If He had the power to redeem and partner with them in the redemption of His kingdom, how can we doubt His ability to use us, too?
Photo Credit: www.freedigitalphotos.net
by jphilo | Dec 6, 2013 | Church Newsletter Columns
…and all of you, clothe yourselves with humility toward one another,
for God is opposed to the proud, but gives grace to the humble.
1 Peter 5:5
Do you remember the children’s story from grade school? The one about the emperor who was conned into preening down the street in what he believed were the fanciest duds ever, when in reality he was parading around in his birthday suit. Everyone around the monarch went along with the deception, except for one little boy. When that honest little guy spoke truth, the emperor’s self-deception was laid bare, and he ran away to hide.
Not too long ago, I felt as though God had cast me as the lead in an updated version of the particularly revealing saga. Not in a literal sense, mind you. My physical clothes were in place throughout the experience. But as for my spiritual duds, the ones I believed were woven of 100% humility? Well, God spoke truth and stripped them away, revealing what lay beneath layers and layers self-deception.
God’s truth exposed pride. Prideful thoughts. Prideful words. Prideful attitudes. Prideful actions. So much pride, my first desire was to run away and hide. But God made it quite clear, through the words of Hebrews 5:13, that hiding from Him is not an option. And in 1 Peter 5:5, He clearly stated what needed to be done: put on different clothes.
I wasn’t to keen on the idea of complete wardrobe change after a lifetime of struggling to unzip pride and button down humbleness…only to discover that my version of humility was 100% fake. So I argued with God. I can’t do this on my own. I’m not sure I can do it even with you leading the way. Therefore. I. Give. Up.
Having dealt with the matter, my fickle mind wandered on to less taxing, more mundane thoughts. The grocery list for Thanksgiving dinner. Hauling Christmas decorations from the attic. The column for the December newsletter. Not one hopeful writing idea came to mind until a wisp of Christmas story from the gospel of Luke wove its way into my thoughts: And she gave birth to her firstborn son; and she wrapped Him in cloths, and laid Him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
Jesus, the Son of God, the Creator of all things came to earth as a humble baby wrapped in humble cloths. His mother laid Him in a manger because there was no room at the inn. Why on earth did God’s Son humiliate Himself so completely? To save prideful sinners like you and me, wrapping us in His humility when we cannot clothe ourselves.
The words of a simple, children’s Christmas carol threaded their way into my consciousness.
Be near me, Lord Jesus, I ask thee to stay
close by me forever, and love me, I pray;
bless all the dear children in thy tender care,
and fit us for heaven to live with thee there.
I closed my eyes as hope blazed in my heart, as bright as the star over Bethlehem so long ago. Lord Jesus, I prayed, please change my clothes. Clothe me and all your children in your humility so we are fit to represent you on earth and to live with you in heaven when you call us home. Amen.
Photo Credit: www.freedigitalphotos.net
