Sunday, January 18, 2009

And The Serpent Said

And the serpent said unto the woman, Ye shall not surely die (Genesis 3:4)

Our fore-parents appeared to have had everything: a home, food, occupation, instruction, all in the presence of God. Often when the blissful state of Adam and Eve is examine, one concludes, “I would have never given up what they had.”

However, a more careful observation of this passage reveals that there is something they did not have. They did not have “knowledge” or “maturity”. No! Adam and Eve were not zygotes wearing fig leaves. They were created with the appearance of age. It was as if they were old when they were in fact brand new. It seemed as if they had been here, when they had actually just arrived. They were fully grown infants. And they wanted what they did not have; they wanted to know.

And we too want to know. Every toddler is on a great exploration from one thing to another. This desire does not cease by one simply coming of age. As teenagers, the longing to know the world away from our parents’ oversight, instructions, and restrictions, seems to overwhelm us. We all want to know: to see, to hear, to feel, to taste, to touch for ourselves. And the Genesis 3 cycle is repeated in the microcosm of our own lives, as we are attracted to Satan’s suggestions, romanced by his reason, and cuddle his alternative, assuming we will be the better having gone his way.

Whatever the variety of our temptation, it all boils down to a type of antinomianism: freedom from restriction, freedom to explore whatever we will, and freedom to eat from our own forbidden tree. Not even one restriction is acceptable. And therein is the serpent's subtle suggestion, “Any restriction is bondage; any limitation is God’s attempt to keep you from your potential.”

Moses warns of the subtlety of Satan’s approach: His craft employs the silky smooth disposition of a serpent. He shocks Eve into opening a door of dialog by making an overtly false statement that all the trees are forbidden. He then suggested to her the need for independent thought; because, God’s word is meant to hinder and not help. Finally he sold her on the idea that they would be better off after eating from the tree in spite of God’s command. And they got what they wanted, only to find their eyes opened to the fact that they did not need it.

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Let Us Also Go, That We May Die With Him

John 11:16 Then said Thomas, which is called Didymus, unto his fellow disciples, Let us also go, that we may die with him.

The disciples had been with Jesus in Bethany and had faced tremendous opposition. Now word had come to Jesus that Lazarus was dead. The disciple’s fears caused their ears to dull and fail to hear what Jesus was really communicating in saying, “Our friend Lazarus sleepeth.” It was not that Jesus was saying something difficult to understand, but that they did not want to hear what Jesus was saying about going back to Bethany.

And that is us; we will embrace the death of our friends, so that we save our own life. We are afraid to embrace Jesus’ view of things; because, it will challenge our cheapened ideas of our true responsibility, to even those we call friend. We are afraid to hear Christ; because, He might be saying something that we really don’t want to hear.

Amid their apparent confusion, their subliminal rationale is clear; the question of their hearts is “Why should we die for going to see a dead man?” Yet Thomas, often characterized as a “doubter”, and maybe so, speaks up, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.” Even here, he certainly seems to be a bit more pessimistic than optimistic. He is pessimistic about the outcome, but faithful to the journey.

On one hand, we certainly want to be careful to extol the virtues of looking at a difficult journey with a sense of confidence and expectation of the master to do something extraordinary. This is blessed, for it allows one to experience peace, joy, hope, faith, patience, etc. on the journey. Then too, on another occasion, Jesus admonishes Thomas about this unfruitful tendency toward skepticism.

On the other hand, I want to point out in this situation that Thomas’ pessimism does not erect a blockade to his commitment and his encouragement of his fellow disciples to go as well. Maybe it would be helpful to increase the adjectives we employ concerning Thomas. Perhaps we could say “honest” Thomas; because, he did not disguise his fear in dishonest religious rhetoric. Maybe we could call him, “encouraging” Thomas; because he leads by beckoning a like response from his fellow disciples. Most assuredly we may call him “committed” Thomas, for he is willing to follow Jesus even unto death.

Whatever, the case, Thomas was faithful, as faith is not the absence of fear, but courage to overcome fear with unwavering commitment to face deadly opposition with Christ for the salvation of a friend.

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

He Hath Remembered

He hath remembered his covenant for ever, the word which he commanded to a thousand generations (Psalms 105:8)

God hath remembered; that is, in some sense, what He has promised, the psalmist has experienced.

And what does He remember, not your words, not the popular but pseudo ideal of name it-claim it, blab it-grab it, call it-haul it, but He remembered “His word!” That which He spoke! He spoke it to Abraham, and to Isaac, and to Jacob. He did not first speak to David, yet He spoke concerning David, before David was. And He spoke it, inscribed it, preserved it, to reveal it, to David when he arrived.

Yet, He did speak to the psalmist, there at his daddy’s house; concerning His portion of the promise, David’s place: the throne of Israel. Just so he could experience God for himself, and partake in the promise. so he could say, “He hath remembered!”

And I have found it necessary in my own life to be careful what I promise to my children, for they will call to my remembrance that which I may have said perhaps casually and passively. However, God never speaks in vain; He never says anything as a matter of momentary appeasement.

And what He says to you is both personal and impersonal. Yes what He says is about you, yet it is at the same time about every one of those who are His. What He says to you in a personable way is yet so universal as the speak to a thousand generations.

Isn’t that something, God’s plan for you is bigger than you, than your immediate family, than your extended family, than your offspring to the third and forth generation; in fact He is bigger than the beginning and the ending. He controls all the events of history. And this is the kind of God you need if He is to remember His covenant to you: general enough to be particular, particular enough to be general.

There are those persons: mom, dad, sister, brother, and even dear friends who have made promises with the greatest intention and determination to fulfill every word, only to be thwarted by a bed of affliction or hindered by a meeting with death. They promised without their own finitude, limitations, and contingencies in view, blind to life’s fading tomorrow and forgetful of the emergencies of yesterday.

Yet in your every right-now moment God is presently in the bitterness of your long nights and in the sweetness of your bright mornings. There is no obstruction to His view of tomorrow; there are not any emergencies to interrupt His course, nothing to break His promise. When you arrive at your long awaited place of resolve, in retrospect, you will realize that He has not forgotten what He said concerning you.

Thursday, December 18, 2008

And His Name Shall Be Called

For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:6)

A governor is known by His people’s characterization of him:“a name.” This name is not a formal name, but and nickname of sorts.

And every man is looking for a man, a man he can believe in, a man he can trust. He wants a leader that is consistent and a guide that is sure. He wants an idealist that is a realist; he wants a realist that is an idealist. He wants a man that can and will provide, protect, and preserve. He wants a man that he can name: miracle worker, teacher, comforter, divine and eternal.

And what man has not failed the test? What man’s strength has not waned? What man's threads have not worn thin and revealed the vileness of his nakedness and imperfection? What man’s vices have not competed with his virtues?

There have been other leaders: the Pharaohs have come and gone. The Caesars have come and gone. Alexander the Great, Xerxes, Napoleon, Winston Churchill, all have been leaders which stood head and shoulders above other men. Yet their powers, philosophies and plans have fallen short.

But here is a man that does not will to power; He is power. He does not seek to be virtuous; He is virtue. He does not desire to be King; He is King. He can’t be exalted; He is exaltation. And since He cannot go up, He comes down: down the mountain of His divinity, down into the valley of humanity, down through forty-two generations, down into a lowly manger, born as a child, given as a Son.

And what is His political strategy? Winsomely, He awes us; with clarity, He instructs us; with tenderness, He comforts us; with power, He subjects us; with efficacy, He immortalizes us. He’s a governor, perfectly divine enough to become perfectly human. He‘s a man that is lofty enough to condemn, but lowly enough to console.

So what does His people say of Him? They have been awed by Him standing on the deck of a boat and taming the storm; so they say He’s wonderful. They have been instructed by Him going up into a high mountain and revealing the path of blessedness; so they say He’s a counselor. They have been comforted by Him telling of their place in His Father’s house; so they say He’s the prince of peace. They have become worshippers by Him showing His nail-scarred hands and pierced side; so they say He’s the mighty God. They have been assured immortality by His resurrection from the grave; so they say He’s the everlasting father.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

Instruct Me In The Night Seasons

Psa 16:7 I will bless the LORD, who hath given me counsel: my reins also instruct me in the night seasons.

What a wholesome resolve. Not only passionate but intellectual – “I will,” yet not only intellectual but passionate – “my reins.” And there is no other way to please God then to remain passionately tied to the word of God in the dark times. Yet this is often when Christians make excuses by appealing to the frailty of our humanity, and are emotionally turned to self-preservation rather than divine dependency.

The wise counsel of God is not as much for day as it is for the night seasons. What need is there to turn to other alternatives in the blissful season? What new source of light is sought in the brightness of day? Temptation dwells in the night, in the uncertainty of the wilderness experience, and in the presence of pain without apparent remedy.

Night seasons are unpredictable and they call for unpredictable behavior. And there is for the believer light in darkness, joy in sorrow, and assurance in uncertainty. Is not counsel given by God, a lamp unto our feet, and a light unto our path? The word of God instructs us when the day becomes dusk and dusk becomes dark. When what to do is no longer evident and obvious, when everything one thought would help is exhausted, and when all other advisors are at an impasse, what one knows of God remains reliable, stable and sure.

One may have at points blessed his own wisdom. One may have at points blessed his own ingenuity. One may have at points blessed his good friends. All of these bear some level of appropriateness. However, in the night seasons it is time to bless the Lord and Him alone.

The night seasons are not times to turn to the right or left. The night seasons are not times to doubt what God has said. The night seasons are not times to conclude that it’s more than you can bear. The night seasons are not times to conclude that God has forsaken you. The night seasons are not times to fall into fleshly consolations.

In the night seasons, one may have to know like Abraham that the Lord will provide a sacrifice in the place of your son. In the night seasons, one may have to say like the three Hebrew children, “If the Lord will not deliver me from the fire, I still won’t bow.” In the night seasons one may have to do like David after the death of a child, “arise from the earth, and wash, and anoint himself, and change his apparel, and come into the house of the LORD, and worship.” In the night seasons one must be informed by God’s counsel and driven by an unwavering attachment to the same.

Monday, November 17, 2008

He Put His Hands Again Upon His Eyes

After that he put his hands again upon his eyes, and made him look up: and he was restored, and saw every man clearly. Mark 8:25

A blind man, subject to the sight of others, dependent on their interpretation and explanation of the world; he can provide no leadership or guidance to others, for he has no visual discernment, and perception. Jesus rhetorically asked, “Can the blind lead the blind? Shall they not both fall into the ditch?”

This is not the only blind man healed by Jesus. John accounts another episode of blindness in the ninth chapter of his gospel. All cases of blindness indicate a lack of divine wisdom, yet there is dissimilarity in the two accounts. John broadly conveys the “characteristics” of blindness and sight, while Mark narrowly focuses on the “progressive nature” of a man coming to see. The former posits that “seeing-men” are opposed by “blind-men”; the latter teaches that “seeing-men” do not look to “blind-men” any longer.

Mark’s telltale term is that he saw men as “trees” walking. If one understands that the word “trees” is loaded with meaning and symbol, one then understands that this man, like Eve, “saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise.” Yet there is a reversal: In the Garden all the trees were good for food except one; now only one tree (Christ) is good for food.

There are other subsequent touches by Christ which are just cloaked in different paradigms. One man cried out, “Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief”, in which the distinction is made between general faith in Christ and faith for a specific situation. After first raising Lazarus from the grave, Jesus says, “Loose him, and let him go,” demonstrating that one raised from the dead still needs to be freed from a dead man’s mentality through the body of Christ.

The miracle of the two touches is fleshed out later in this same chapter. Peter says, “Thou art the Christ Son of the living God!” He had the first touch and yet he needed a second touch. WHY! Because in attempting to rebuke Jesus only moments later, Jesus clearly stated, that Peter had in mind “not the things that be of God, but the things that be of men.”

The point of the two touches is that the same Jesus who justifies also sanctifies. So it is that every Christian needs a second touch. How often it is that sinners are converted, yet they come to the church with the belief that the church operates by the same premises as the world; it is not that Christ has not touched them; it is that they need to be touched again. Or what of that person who believes that after coming to Christ his problems are all over; it is not that Christ has not touched him; it is that he needs to be touched again. Or what of that person who thinks that the church is supposed to be perfect; it is not that Christ has not touched him; it is that he needs to be touched again. Paul aptly stated,”if any man among you seemeth to be wise in this world, let him become a fool, that he may be wise.” Where one sees men as trees walking, he is indeed in need of another touch for discernment, for clarity, for truth, and yes indeed, to see “every man clearly.”

Friday, November 7, 2008

I Was Blind, Now I See

He answered and said, whether he be a sinner or no, I know not: one thing I know, that, whereas I was blind, now I see (John 9:25)

What an undesirable condition, to be blind. We may attempt to minimize this condition by touting the by-product of heightened awareness in the other senses; however, there is no virtue to blindness, but only social dependence, constant darkness, and visual depravity. We have assumed that one cannot miss what he never had; however, even this born-blind man wanted to see.

Yes, this man was born blind and wanted sight, but what of us who have sight but seem to prefer blindness? Can you imagine having sight but acting as though you are blind: asking people to lead you around, walking and tapping a stick on the ground, utilizing a seeing-eye dog? Can you imagine not responding to that which is obvious, bumping into walls that are apparent, stumbling over things in the floor that are in plain view?

This man was born blind by no fault of his own, nor the fault of his parents, yet his blindness comes through his parents as a result of the Adamic rebellion. However, for us who have already come in contact with Christ, our blindness is not a matter of malfunctioning faculties, but of covering our eyes with fleshly obstruction. It is an issue of doubt, obstinacy, and refusal to consist with a clear view of the Savior.

Yet it is human tendency to love darkness rather than light. To thoughtlessly be led around by others: choosing the non-contentious ease of worldly conformity, giving in to the persistence of peer pressure, or the fuzzy warmth of compromise. Perhaps believing the personal accountability that the virtue of sight ultimately requires can be avoided. Sight ushers one into unquestionable realities, undeniable responsibilities, and unavoidable worldly resistance to the wonderful truths of God.

How often it is that the eyes of parishioners are opened by sermons and bible studies and that the truth of God is communicated with incontrovertible clarity? The faithfulness due our savior amid His enemies is plain. The righteous answers to those who oppose our Christ are made obvious.

We have received sight but continue to trip and stumble as though we cannot see. We have been healed by the master and yet persist in denying the realities, shucking the responsibilities, and fearing the worldly resistance that our faith fosters.