The Struggle to Believe

The following meditation is from Doug Hood's book

Nurture Faith: Five Minute Meditations to Strengthen Your Walk with Christ.

“I have faith; help my lack of faith!”

Mark 9:24 (Common English Bible)

Many who sincerely want to believe in God find believing to be difficult. Faith rarely comes easily. The only way it does come is when we accept where we are on our faith journey and go on from there. Longing to be someplace else along the journey accomplishes nothing, apart from frustration.

At the beginning of a new year, we cannot say I wish I was fifteen pounds less before beginning a New Year’s resolution of a healthier lifestyle. Eating better, exercising more and getting more rest must begin where you are. That is what the unidentified man in this story from Mark’s Gospel teaches us; we must begin where we are, “Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.” He begins from where he is. Within him is a mixture of belief and unbelief. He owns that when he speaks to Jesus.

Each day we may know a little more of God. We can never know all of God. But instead of being occupied with what we don’t know we can say, “help me with my unbelief.” The man in our story approaches Jesus with both belief and unbelief. Rather than dwelling upon what he doesn’t know - or being troubled by what he doesn’t understand - he seeks Jesus’ help. There is present enough faith to seek more of Jesus. This is a more helpful approach to faith than those who claim they will not believe until they understand fully.

The Christian faith is not established upon right beliefs, right doctrine, or on how much someone believes. The Christian faith is personal, centered upon the person of Jesus. Here, this man in Mark’s story instructs us that often we approach faith incorrectly. Rather than trying to understand all the mystery that is God, this man seeks out the person of Jesus; he seeks a relationship. To concentrate on what you don’t understand will destroy whatever faith you have. Accepting God’s love in the person of Jesus and making your love for him tangible in each day of life results in a faith that will grow from more to more.

Joy,

A Life Trained By Christ

“Train yourself for a holy life!”

1 Timothy 4:7b (Common English Bible)

            A physician once taught me an important lesson about spiritual growth – there is simply no substitute for regularly paying attention to God. He shared this story with me. In the midst of a successful practice as a doctor, he had little time for his wife, for his children. Seventy and eighty hour workweeks were customary. He loved his patients. He loved his work. Time at home was for rest and renewal for the next day. Dinners with his family were rare. Hard work seemed to pay dividends. His salary rose steadily each year. Admiration for him and his exceptional work held a privileged position in the community. Everything seemed right, until it did not. Both his wife and his children had found a way to get on in life without him. “The day I realized that was the most painful day of my life”, the doctor said.

            The doctor held a stethoscope in his hand. “Perhaps, this is the most important tool for a physician’s work,” he shared. Doctors study and train to know how to listen to a patient with this tool. What is supremely important is to know what “regular” sounds like when we hold the stethoscope to a patient’s chest or back.  If the doctor does not know what “regular” sounds like, then the doctor simply does not know what they are listening to with a patient seated in front of them. Doctors must learn well what “regular” sounds like so, when using a stethoscope, they can recognize immediately what sounds “irregular.” Once an “irregular” comes through the stethoscope, a decision, with the patient, is required. This one part of practicing medicine is all about listening carefully, listening correctly.

            “I was failing at listening carefully to my life, to my family,” said the doctor. “Then, I almost lost them.” “That terrified me.” The difficulty was that I did not know what “regular” was, what “regular” sounded like as a part of a family. Here is a man who is an excellent doctor but is a poor husband and father. Training was required. Good training is about consistent, regular effort over time. Good training demands the proper tools. “I went back to school,” said the doctor. The textbook was the Bible. The classroom was a chair in his backyard for one hour at the close of every day. Reading the Bible every evening, the doctor learned what “regular” sounded like. Then he listened carefully to his own life, his daily practices and priorities. What the doctor heard was irregular.

            It is remarkable what listening to God will do for a life. A “regular” life, a healthy life, is a lived experience of faith in God. Practices change and as practices change, a reshaping occurs. Each life that listens carefully to God, in regular time reading the Bible and prayer, redevelops from the inside out. Such a life embodies more and more the way of Jesus. Trust in God increases, persistent hope in the coming of God’s reign expands, and love overcomes hatred and selfishness. Life moves from unhealthy “instinctual reactions” to learned behaviors – behaviors that enter the heart from habitual practice in the way of Christ. This is a trained life. A life trained by Christ.

Joy,

Unfinished Discipleship

“Every scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for showing mistakes, for correcting, and for training character, so that the person who belongs to God can be equipped to do everything that is good.”

2 Timothy 3:16, 17 (Common English Bible)

              There are people in the church who have a favorite hymn but not a favorite scripture. They have picked out a favorite piece of music to feed their soul, but they do not have a favorite selection from the Bible to feed their mind. The soul is well nourished. The mind is not. Why would this be? I recall a woman telling me that she does not need to study the Bible. She studied the Bible formally in college classes. That was forty years ago! Asked what her favorite scripture was, she responded, “To thine own self be true.” That is not from the Bible. It is from the Shakespearean tragedy, Hamlet. Yet, she sings in the church choir each week. Classic, traditional church music feeds her soul, she told me. Nourishing the soul while neglecting the mind.

              Paul writes to Timothy that God inspires scripture for expanding the mind. The essential value of scripture is to teach, show mistakes, for correcting, and for training character. Beautiful sacred music inspires and takes a weary soul to a place of rest and nourishment. That is important in the life of a disciple. However, it is not enough. Paul reminds us here, as he does in other places, that God created us for a purpose. God created each person to be useful to God. Scripture makes us useful. Scripture shapes us, forms us, and equips us to be participants in God’s work in the world. Inspired by sacred music while lacking usefulness to God is unfinished discipleship.

              We belong to God. Paul is clear on that point. Can you imagine staffing your business with people who lack the basic skill set to get the work done? Christian baptism is Kingdom staffing. Baptism is God’s claim on us. God chooses us and provides the Bible as a training manual for equipping us to be useful. Baptism is also our promise. We promise to make God’s work the very center of our life. That means that we will expand our capacities for accomplishing each task God places in our charge. Done well, God’s Kingdom expands continually affecting positively more and more lives. That results in exponential growth of God’s purposes in the world. That is, if each new baptized disciple is useful.

              I am asking that you feed your mind daily on God’s word in the Bible. Memorize passages that seem particularly meaningful. Throughout the day, as you go about other tasks, recall to mind those passages you have memorized. Think deeply about why that particular passage is important to you. That simple process accomplishes a big part of God’s work in each person – reflecting on what God intends for us to hear from a portion of scripture that resonates with us. Prayerfully ask two questions: “What would you have me hear, O Lord?” and “What would you have me do, O Lord?” Day after day, you will discover that God’s Spirit is upon you, equipping you for God’s good purposes in the world. That is what discipleship looks like.

Joy, 

Qualifying For the Christian Life

“Jesus looked at him carefully and loved him. He said, ‘You are lacking one thing. Go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor. Then you will have treasure in heaven. And come, follow me.’ But the man was dismayed at this statement and went away saddened, because he had many possessions.”

Mark 10:21, 22 (Common English Bible)

            The process of positive change begins with us. I heard these words again several weeks before returning to the Holy Land with a church group. Two doctors, colleagues in practice, provided me with a comprehensive health check. Blood labs, full body scan, cognitive tests and a general physical exam found elevated blood sugar and more body fat than is optimal. The pathway forward included an “induction diet” for the first six weeks. Absolutely no grain, rice, potato, or pasta. Additionally, no tropical fruit such as bananas or citrus and no desserts. Then, one of the doctors said that if he could banish two words spoken by his patients, they would be, “I’ll try.” Each patient makes one of two decisions: they will or they will not. When I left his office, I would answer one or the other.  Each of the eight days in Israel, only one option for lunch – a choice of sandwiches and French fries. Bread, produced from grain, and potato. With an apple in hand, I simply walked away from the group for lunch.

            In this story from Mark’s Gospel, a man approaches Jesus with a question, “What must I do to obtain eternal life?” The man wants to know what he must do to qualify for the Christian life. Together, they establish that the man knew the Bible and kept the commandments. According to many standards, the man is a deeply religious person. That is important to concede lest we miss the full force of the story. Jesus follows, “You are lacking one thing. Go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor. Then you will have treasure in heaven. And come, follow me.” Jesus is not teaching a lesson on financial stewardship, not directly. Jesus is not advocating that the wealthy carry a greater responsibility for the poor. The real issue here is one of commitment. Jesus is asking if the man is totally committed to God, is prepared to make a total engagement of his life with Jesus Christ.

            The man’s answer is no. The man knew the Bible. The man lived a moral life. He obeyed all the commandments. Yet, the man failed to make a total commitment to Jesus. To be a profoundly religious person, it seems, has little to do with biblical knowledge or living a moral life. If that were the case, then there is no way that King David, Peter, or Paul were “religious.” David committed adultery. Peter was impulsive. Paul self-identified, “I’m a miserable human being. (Romans 7:24).” All capable of disloyalties. Each life colored with moral ambiguity. Yet, with all their flaws, each are remembered as profoundly religious persons. That is because they were deeply committed to God. Biblical faith has little concern with one’s mastery of the Bible. Biblical faith cares little with high moral attainment. Biblical faith is concerned with our ultimate allegiance. We will follow Jesus totally or we will not.

            Commitment is a choice of direction. Jesus Christ is Lord and we rearrange all of our life around the values of Jesus or we will not. The great challenge to the Church has never been those who are opposed to religion. The great challenge to the Church are those who say they believe but do not care enough to weave their life with the life of Christ without reservation. Commitment to Christ is not a highly charged emotional experience or a life of strict moral discipline. Rather, commitment means that we chose our values, manage our financial resources, and center each day on honoring Jesus’ claim upon us. Jesus Christ is the creative center of all that we do and think. The process of positive change begins with us. “I’ll try”, is insufficient. We will or we will not make Jesus Christ the final ground for every decision we make.

Joy,

The Spirit of Christmas

“Glory to God in heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors.”

Luke 2:14 (Common English Bible)

There is a Christmas song that ponders in a rather wistful manner, why the world is

unable to embrace the spirit of Christmas all year long. At Christmas, we crawl out from our

hard shell of self-concern, our eyes sparkle with wonder, and we behave with an

uncharacteristic charity toward all people. We slog through eleven months of drudging effort,

eyes squarely focused upon survival in a competitive marketplace with little attention to

others, and then Christmas comes. We throw off the heavy coat of selfishness for a time.

Kindness permeates the places of our soul made callous by fear of scarcity and generosity

flows from hidden springs in our heart. We play, we laugh, and we are amiable to the stranger

and friend equally. That Christmas song is on to something. Why can’t we have the spirit of

Christmas all year long?

Bethlehem is a divine interruption. The world today is little different from the world that

welcomed the birth of Jesus. Enemies are everywhere and national security continues to be a

pressing concern. Inequity of wealth among people of every nation conveniently ignores the

apostle Paul’s call that those who have much shouldn’t have too much and those who have

little shouldn’t have too little (2 Corinthians 8:13-15). But Bethlehem invites the world to a

fresh imagination; to imagine a world where instruments of war are repurposed into farming

instruments and people impulsively and joyfully share from their abundance so that others

may simply have enough. Bethlehem asks that we look at the world differently, asks that we

live differently. 

The spirit of Christmas is a deep and persistent call to pay attention to God. It is a call to

see and participate in the creation of a new world where peace and good will abounds.

Bethlehem is not an occasional indulgence – an occasion where we lay aside for a moment

careful attention to our health and consume copious quantities of Christmas cookies and

eggnog. Bethlehem asks that we care about the world of which we are a part. Bethlehem

invites us to join the angels in announcing that God has unleashed upon the world a new

order where all people may find carefree rest in God. Bethlehem is not a charming dream. It is

not an aspirational goal. Bethlehem is a confident and certain reality. God has come into this

world and nothing is going to be the same.

Go to Bethlehem this year. Go and bow down before this magnificent birth of a new world

order. Discover in Bethlehem God’s divine intention for each of us; discover that peace and

good will is not for one month of the year but God’s gift to be embraced and shared all year.

But if you go to Bethlehem, recognize that Bethlehem makes demands upon all who visit.

Bethlehem asks that you dedicate your life to speeding up the tempo of good will in all your

relationships. Bethlehem will ask you to guard your speech and exercise restraint in the use of

acrimony, harsh, and mean criticism. Bethlehem will demand civility, humility, and respect of

others, particularly of those you disagree with. And Bethlehem will ask of you uncommon

generosity toward others. Bethlehem asks a good deal from all who visit. But Bethlehem gives

in return God’s peace. That is the spirit of Christmas. 

Joy,

Not Ashamed of Jesus (Location: Caesarea)

The following is a reprint of a previous meditation by Dr. Doug Hood.

“Agrippa said to Paul, ‘You may speak for yourself.’

So Paul gestured with his hand and began his defense.’”

Acts 26:1 (Common English Bible)

     Along the coast of the Mediterranean Sea, between Tel Aviv and Haifa, rises the restored city of Caesarea, built by Herod the Great in 20 B.C. and named in honor of the Roman emperor Caesar Augustus.  Caesarea served as the Roman capital for the province of Judea for nearly 600 years and was the official residence of its governors, including Pontius Pilate who sentenced Jesus to death. It is here that several major events in the formative years of the Christian church took place including the baptism, by Paul, of a Roman military officer named Cornelius (see Acts 10:1-8).

      For two years, the apostle Paul was imprisoned in Caesarea for preaching Jesus Christ and Christ’s resurrection from the dead. During his imprisonment, King Agrippa and the king’s sister, Bernice, came to Caesarea. During a conversation with Porcius Festus, the current governor of Caesarea, King Agrippa and Bernice learned of this man, Paul, and that he was being held there in that city as a prisoner. Fascinated with the story of Paul, his preaching and teaching and Paul’s imprisonment, Agrippa said to Festus, “I want to hear the man myself.” The very next day, King Agrippa and Bernice entered the auditorium of Caesarea with considerable fanfare and Paul was brought from his prison cell to address the King and honored guest.

      Recently I sat in what remains of that auditorium, a place that can still seat hundreds, and imagined the apostle Paul standing in chains before the King and the city’s most prominent men. Asked to speak, Paul “gestured with his hand and began his defense.” In that day, the hand gesture was a common movement to quiet the audience and signal the beginning of an important speech. In that single movement of his hand, Paul delivered a bold sermon. Though he stood before a King, himself a prisoner in chains, Paul had the audacity to say, with that hand movement, “Listen, and be silent, for I have something of deep importance to say.” Paul was not ashamed of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

      For whatever reason, I have entered a place in my life where I sense things more deeply than ever before; I am easily brought to a place of tears. Seated in that ancient auditorium, looking down to an empty stage, a place that was once occupied by Paul in chains, I pictured him making that hand gesture and I had to hide my tears from my colleagues. Paul thought nothing of his present humiliation, a prisoner in chains, and placed all his energy into one thing, the message of Jesus and Jesus’ power to change lives.

Joy,

The View from the Top (Location: Mount of Beatitudes)

The following is a reprint of a previous meditation by Dr. Doug Hood.

“But the gate that leads to life is narrow and the road difficult, so few people find it.”

 Matthew 7:14 (a sentence from the Sermon on the Mount, Common English Bible)

Most people travel the broad road. This is the road that is motivated by a desire to please people; the road that seeks approval of others. Values are forged from observing behaviors that seem popular. When questioned about an unwise decision, those who travel this road answer simply, “Everyone else was doing it.” Travel along this road may bustle with energy but misses the life we were appointed by God to live. 

The narrow road is a little lonelier. This is the road of true disciples. Those who travel this road may be sensitive to what others think of them. They may desire to be loved and appreciated as those who travel any road. But ultimately, it is God’s approval that shapes the large and little decisions of life. Thomas Tewell once shared a story of a woman in his New York City congregation who meets friends at the end of the day for drinks. When the friends order another round she excuses herself and says she has to be going. “Where are you going?” her friends asked. Without apology she answers that she is attending an evening Bible study at her church. When pressed why she goes to church she simply answers, “It makes a difference in the way I live my life.”

Many who travel to the Holy Land include in their spiritual pilgrimage a climb up the Mount of Beatitudes, the location where Jesus delivers his great Sermon on the Mount. There they find great views over the Sea of Galilee and many of the sites associated with Jesus’ ministry. The serenity of this beautiful place, however, may be slightly unhelpful for travelers seeking an authentic spiritual journey. The splendor of the setting may suggest that Jesus’ words were calm and soothing – conjuring images of a worship service back home with beautiful music, an inspiring sermon and a lovely Sunday brunch following church. In fact, Jesus’ sermon was radical, demanding and countercultural. They were hard words to hear for many who had gathered that day. Jesus was calling people to a new way of life. Those who chose to follow would be few.

The road up the mountain attracts the casual tourist, of course. But for anyone on a spiritual pilgrimage, the road is difficult and few will find it. It is a road that demands that priorities be reordered, habits changed and room made in busy lives for God. It isn’t a road for the faint-hearted or for those who still care more about what others think of them than obedience to God. But for those who make it to the top, the view is out of this world.

Joy,

It All Boils Down To This (Location: Upper Room)

The following meditation was written by Dr. Michael Brown,

our Distinguished Preacher on January 26, 2020.

“This is my commandment, that you love one another, even as I have loved you.”

John 15:12 (New Heart English Bible)

     In the written records of what Jesus said, there is only one time when he used the word “command.”  Even in Matthew’s gospel where the author’s entire intent is to portray Jesus as the “new Moses” who reinterprets the Commandments, he never says “command.”  It only happened in the Upper Room.  John tells the story.  Jesus had washed the disciples’ feet (i.e., he stooped to serve others).  Immediately he said, “Do you know what I have done for you? I have given you an example” (calling his disciples to live lives of service, as well).  And then, in case they still hadn’t got the message, he said it clearly and unequivocally:  “This I command you, that you love one another, even as I have loved you.”

     That’s it – THE Great Commandment.  You and I were put here to love.  That is our only purpose, at least, according to no less an authority than Jesus.  Leo Buscaglia used to say: “Find love, find life.”  The opposite of that, clearly, is: “Fail to love, fail to live with purpose and meaning.”

     At the end of the day, it all boils down to this:  Those who live a life of love (even when it’s not easy) are genuine followers of Jesus.  Others who yield to anger, prejudice, greed, gossip, unkindness, impatience, intolerance, revenge, hatefulness or hurtfulness in word, deed, or on social media, can use all the religious talk they choose.  However, it’s just talk.  If we’re not motivated by love for others – and that means all others (even those who don’t look like us, think like us, act like us, or vote like us) – then we’re not authentic followers of The Messiah.  “This I command you,” he said.

     I have always believed that “Love” is a verb. It’s not just something we feel. Instead, it’s something we do about what we feel.  So, to say “Yes” to Christ’s command basically means this:  Every day in every decision and every encounter, we will ask, “Is this the loving thing to say or do?”  If the answer is Yes, then we move forward. If it’s No, we don’t.  If we cannot make that commitment, then we may have heard the voice of Jesus in the Upper Room but we didn’t listen.   “This I command you, that you love one another, even as I have loved you.”

Joy,

Small Deeds, Large Results (Location: Church of the Fish and the Loaves)

The following meditation was written by Dr. Michael Brown, 

our Distinguished Preacher on January 26, 2020.

“Here is a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish,

but how far will they go among so many?”

John 6:9 (New Living Translation)

     A friend of mine who is retired was shopping at a local grocery store on a Monday morning when he spotted a young clerk with several carts full of flowers.  The carts were parked beside the rear exit from the store.  “Are you going to deliver those somewhere?,” my friend asked, adding, “because they really are pretty.”  The clerk replied, “No sir.  These are the arrangements that didn’t sell over the weekend.  So, every Monday we put them in the dumpster out back.  Next weekend we’ll have new ones.”

     My friend had a sudden epiphany.  “Those are beautiful flowers.  They could brighten somebody’s day.  I’m retired and have the time to deliver them.  So, why not put them in my SUV rather than the grocery’s dumpster?”  After a brief chat with the store’s manager, my friend was off with two bags of groceries and twelve arrangements of flowers.  He took six arrangements to a nursing care facility and four to a hospice house. The remaining two he delivered at midnight, taking them to the ER of a local hospital as a gesture of appreciation to the nurses who worked there.

     Soon he was stopping by the grocery store every Monday to pick up flowers, which he then delivered to residential or medical helping agencies all over town.  Word about that began to leak out from employees at the agencies to their neighbors and friends.  The result was that now my friend has a team of volunteers who assist in his flower ministry.  A national food chain with an outlet near his town has also gotten on board, promising its own cache of flowers on Mondays.  The end result is that now community hospitals, the hospice center, nursing care facilities, rehab units, the VA residential care home, schools, and churches where my friend lives have fresh floral arrangements every Monday to provide beauty and comfort throughout the week.  And it all started because one man, possessed by just one idea, did one seemingly small thing.

     A crowd of “five thousand men, plus women and children” were hungry.  A child stepped forward with “five loaves and two fish.”  And when he gave what little he had, Jesus did a lot with it.  Our dreams, desires, and deeds may seem small. But when given to Jesus, their impact can become greater than we ever dared to dream or imagine.  Never underestimate the power of being one person, possessed of one idea, and doing one seemingly small thing for Christ and for people.

Joy,

Love Me Anyway

“While we were still weak, at the right moment, Christ died for ungodly people.”

Romans 5:6 (Common English Bible)

                Love Me Anyway is a tender piano ballad that contemplates the limits of love. Written by pop music artist, Pink, with Nashville songwriters Allen Shamblin and Tom Douglas, the song captures the longing and hopefulness that the love between two people is not conditional – not vulnerable to behavior or circumstances that may threaten the fidelity of the relationship. As the traditional marriage vow asks, “will you stick around in good times and bad?” Country artist, Chris Stapleton plays a supporting role to Pink’s lead vocals, the song centered on the latter questioning her lover’s commitment in their romance. Poignantly, the lead voice questions if he could still love her even if she “broke his heart?”

                The ability of this song to pierce every heart is located in the refrain, “Could you love me anyway?” It is the question of the ages. A question that is common to every human heart. Each heart longs to love and receive love. The fear that love can be lost disrupts a sense of well-being, perhaps even crippling the ability to be fully human with all of our capacity for folly and blunders. Insecurity in our love with another diminishes a life’s ability to flourish, “Even if you see my scars. Even if I break your heart. If we’re a million miles apart. Do you think you’d walk away?” That is our fear. If we are not careful, if we misstep, our love will walk away.

                This sounds a good deal like our relationship with God. We try our hardest to make ourselves right with God. We fear God’s disappointment with us. However, we are weak, says the apostle Paul. We stumble, obedience fails, and we long to know if God could love us anyway. For an answer, Paul points to the cross of Jesus Christ: “While we were still weak, at the right moment, Christ died for ungodly people.” This is God’s answer to our anxiety. In good times and bad, God sticks around for us. Moreover, when our lives break into a million pieces, God gathers each broken piece upon a cross and restores life for us.

                Pink and Chris Stapleton have provided a gift with their song, Love Me Anyway. Clearly and beautifully this songs articulates the restlessness of every human heart. Anyone in the helping profession acknowledges that healing begins with naming our fear. Our deepest fear is that love may be taken away from us – taken away if we mess-up in life. That is precisely the difficulty. We are human. It is beyond our ability to live without an occasional blemish; a misspoken word, a hurtful act, to become lost in selfishness. The song asks, “Could you pick up the pieces of me? Could you? Could you still love me?” Here, in his letter to the Roman Church, Paul answers. Look! God’s answer hangs upon a cross. With all of our ungodliness, God loves us anyway.

Joy,

Surrender

The following meditation was written by Doug Hood's son,

Nathanael Hood, MA, New York University.

“That’s enough! Now know that I am God!” 

Psalm 46:10 (Common English Bible)

Martin Luther was, to put it mildly, a busy man. Born of respectable middle class means, his parents instilled in him a dogged Teutonic work ethic that saw him beginning his college education at the University of Erfurt at only seventeen years old. Once there, he blitzed through a wearying curriculum of law (which dissatisfied him), philosophy (which frustrated him), and theology (which electrified him). After a near death experience during a lightning storm in 1505 where he promised Saint Anna he’d become a monk in exchange for his life, he abandoned his secular studies to enter an Augustinian monastery. Within two years he was ordained. In three, he was teaching theology in Wittenberg. In four, he’d earned two more bachelor’s degrees with a Doctor of Theology following in seven. In just a decade, this tireless young man became a provincial vicar charged with overseeing eleven monasteries in eastern Germany.

The rest of his story is one many of us are more familiar with. The Ninety-five Theses nailed to the church door. Justification by faith alone. Excommunication by Pope Leo X. Cross-examination at Worms. Flight to Wartburg Castle. Translation of the the New Testament into German vernacular. Peasant revolts and uprisings. The break with Catholicism, the founding of Lutherism, the birth of Protestantism. And through it all Luther maintained a steady, prolific output of catechisms, commentaries, pamphlets, treatises, masses, hymns, books, and sermons. By the end of his life he’d accumulated over 100 folio volumes of original writings. And all this while fleeing various authorities, both papal and secular, as the Turks ravaged Hungary and Austria, waves of plague swept England, and the Holy Roman Emperor’s own troops sacked Rome. The world was turning itself to ashes.

During his whirlwind life, Luther found himself time and again facing the darkest corners of doubt, sorrow, and exhaustion. According to various sources, Luther repeatedly turned towards the forty-sixth Psalm for comfort and respite. Stories go that he would ask his close friend and fellow reformer Philip Melanchthon to sing it with him: “Come, Philip, let us sing the forty-sixth Psalm.” Such was his love for the Psalm that opened with the triumphant declaration “God is our refuge and strength, a help always near in times of great trouble” that he officially set it to music to write one of the greatest hymns in Christendom: “A Might Fortress Is Our God.”

But it’s in the tenth verse that the psalmist’s triumphant bombast gets tempered by a proclamation from God, telling them to be quiet, be still, and know that God is God. This is a psalm for boasting in the strength of the Almighty, but it’s also a command for one of the hardest things man can do: surrender oneself. There comes a moment in the depths of adversity where one must remove oneself from trying to control the forces of fate and simply trust in our creator. To do otherwise would be to lose ourselves to our own neuroses and anxieties. It’s only in this quiet and stillness that we find our center, and it’s there—much like Moses in the desert, Elijah in the cave, or Paul on the road to Damascus—that we can finally find and know God. And it was in this emptiness inspired by reading the forty-sixth Psalm the night before his incendiary refusal to recant his beliefs at the Diet of Worms that Martin Luther found the courage to face his accusers and make one of the bravest stands in the history of Christendom: “I cannot and will not recant anything, since it is neither safe nor right to go against conscience. May God help me. Amen.”


Joy,

The Mark of Christian Character

“We love because God first loved us.”

1 John 4:19 (Common English Bible)

              There is a delightful – and poignant – cartoon currently circulating on Facebook. Jesus is teaching his disciples on the side of a mountain. Jesus teaches, “Love one another.” The disciples begin to question Jesus. “What if people don’t agree with our interpretation of scripture? What do we do if someone doesn’t share our political ideology or agree with us on the important issues of the day?” Jesus continues, “Let me try again. Love one another.” Located in this cartoon is a powerful message for us all. Something has happened in our public discourse. Once, people could disagree politically, debate the pressing issues of the day, and then share a meal and laughter together. I miss that day, now largely gone. If you are honest, you miss it as well.

              Recently, I sat in my office with someone who is both an elder of this church and a dear friend. He is a Republican and I am a Democrat. He has my highest admiration. Considerable wisdom and a kind and generous spirit mark his leadership on the church board. Occasionally we discuss with each other our differences in our political vision for our nation. The operative word here is, “discuss.” Civility, respect, and humility saturates our conversations. Both of us acknowledge that we could be wrong on any issue. Most importantly, we listen deeply to each other. We listen with anticipation that we may have our own thoughts made more expansive by a different viewpoint.

              We also share a lament. We are sadden by how little kindness we now see among those who disagree. One political party vilifies another party. Democrats are Socialist and Republicans lack compassion. People fear expressing any opinion lest they become caught-up in verbal warfare. Worse, it is common today to question someone’s fidelity to the Christian faith if there is failure to think as we think. Again, we are a nation divided on itself. Hurtful rhetoric often becomes hate crimes. Imagine what has happened in our nation. Some believe that killing those who are different is a responsible course. Jesus continues, “Let me try again. Love one another.”

              Perhaps, that is where we must begin. We begin by celebrating that, as Christians, what holds us together is our common confession that Jesus Christ is Lord. Bound together by faith in Jesus Christ, we recognize that none of us has grasped the whole truth. The Apostle Paul, speaking of faith in his first letter to the Corinthian Church, says that what we now understand is like looking in a dark mirror. We can see something, but not everything. Somethings remain out of focus. “Love one another,” teaches Jesus. That includes our enemies, those who persecute us, and those who disagree with us. Those are the words of Jesus. Obedience is the mark of Christian character.

Joy,

Living In the Present Tense

“Therefore, stop worrying about tomorrow, because tomorrow will worry about itself. 

Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

Matthew 6:34 (Common English Bible)       

            It is the practice of the Eskimos never to carry the day’s evil experiences, its troubles and its quarrels, over into the next day. Two Eskimo hunters might become engaged in a violent dispute over the division of the game which they had taken, and heated words might even bring them to blows, but once the sun had set and they had retired to sleep, all memory of the quarrel would be erased from their spirits, and the next day they would greet each other as brothers. If you were to exclaim in surprise: “But I thought you were enemies. You were fighting yesterday!” they would answer: “Ah, but that was yesterday and we live only today.”[i] That is living in the present tense!

            Mark Twain, with his characteristic humor, once commented that he has suffered many things most of which never happened. Doctors tell us that much of our anxiety, which often results in physical, emotional, and spiritual unease, is located in tomorrow, a preoccupation with fears of the future. Consequently, our fears of tomorrow rob us of the opportunity to live fully and abundantly today. Naturally, wise and reasonable decisions and personal behavior must shepherd us in the present day. Careless spending today will result in debt tomorrow. A word carelessly spoken or a relationship betrayed may negatively impact all of our tomorrows. Not all of us have been nurtured in the Eskimo culture!

            Jesus’ invitation in this teaching is to locate our hearts in God. Worry and anxiety is all about trying to avoid something, about trying to get away from something. The strain of worry is indicative that we don’t trust the future. Jesus asks that we approach life from another perspective. Rather than fleeing what we fear most, Jesus asks that we run toward God. As Augustine once said, “Our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee.”[ii] Jesus asks that we live in the present tense, free from the regrets of yesterday and the fears of tomorrow. That is possible after we have accepted God’s forgiveness for the past and trust in God’s care for the future.

            Thomas Long writes that there is a kind of worry about the coming day that is normal, even healthy. “Tomorrow’s chemistry test or job interview is bound to provide concern, and this command ‘stop worrying about tomorrow’ is not an invitation to finesse the exam or to waltz into the interview unprepared. Rather, it speaks to the deeper, more basic fear that something is out there in the future that can destroy our basic worth as a human being, something finally stronger than God’s care, some silent killer shark swimming toward us from the future.”[iii] Jesus asks that we cling to God in such a manner that we can affirm that whatever tomorrow brings, it also brings God.

Joy,

---

[i] Clayton E. Williams, “Living Today Forever,” Best Sermons: 1955 Edition, edited by G. Paul Butler (New York, London & Toronto: McGraw-Hill Book Company, Inc., 1955) 106.

[ii] Thomas G. Long, Matthew (Louisville & London: Westminster John Know Press, 1997) 76.

[iii] Long, 76.

When Christ Knocks

The following meditation is from Doug Hood's book,

Nurture Faith: Five Minute Meditations to Strengthen Your Walk with Christ.

“Look! I’m standing at the door and knocking.

If any hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to be with them,

and will have dinner with them, and they will have dinner with me.”

Revelation 3:20 (Common English Bible)

     There comes the moment for each of us when we can no longer deny our inner darkness and weakness, our deficiency against the common struggles of daily life and we become weary. Exhausted, we surrender our grasping to be in control, to be strong and without need for anyone, and we seek something else – a union with some strength and purpose beyond ourselves. This verse from Revelation comes to us at such moments. Here we are told that Jesus stands at the door and is ready to come in, if we allow it, and to take possession of our lives, to recreate our inner life and fill it with light and strength. As we stop grasping and are, rather, grasped by Jesus, we are gradually lifted by him, in spite of ourselves, and, from degree to degree, changed into the likeness of Christ.

     For this to proceed in our own life we must first recognize the knock of Jesus. How is that done? It may not be immediately recognizable. It may only be a vague sense of dissatisfaction with the movement of your life; a growing discomfort with the hopes, desires and ambitions that have fueled your daily decisions. Perhaps the knock is found in protest, deep in your heart, about what others are saying to you about this, or that, or another person, and you sense that all of it is wrong. Something stirs within you for another conversation, one that is nobler, more loving, and lovelier. It may even be the Christ-like manner you witness in another and find that you desire to share in that behavior. The knock may simply be an impulse, a nudge, a longing of the heart.

     But to recognize the knock is insufficient. It is inconceivable that anyone would hear a knock on the front door of their home and simply ignore it. To ignore an unsettled heart is just as inconceivable. A knock demands to be answered, the door opened. What stands on the other side may be refused but it must be acknowledged. For a disciple, the door is opened and Christ is admitted at once. There should be no postponement. A postponement weakens the spirit and may result in missing Christ altogether, Christ possibly never returning again. To welcome Christ is to learn of him, to listen deeply to what he teaches and then to obey all that we understand of him. It is to acknowledge that life without Christ was failing us and to utterly reject any notion of negotiating with what Christ demands.

     What remains is a promise. The person, who hears the knock, opens the door and admits Christ into the inner place of their life discovers a deep and abiding communion with him, “and (I) will have dinner with them, and they will have dinner with me.” This is a relationship with Christ that moves way beyond simple obedience. It is the richest and most intimate of relationships; a relationship where one heart deeply shapes the heart of another and two are like one. Christ becomes more than a savior. Christ becomes one who makes us a better person and shares the journey of life as a contemporary, providing life with a peace and joy and adequacy that is simply unavailable without him.

Joy,

A Real and Vital Faith

“Happy are people who have pure hearts, because they will see God.”

Matthew 5:8 (Common English Bible)

              Jesus teaches, “Happy are people who have pure hearts, because they will see God.” The “pure heart” is a faith that is “backed up by convictions, whose outward deeds match their inner commitments.”[i]  What Jesus is saying is that those who have “pure hearts” will have a faith that is real and vital. It is a faith experienced in the deep recesses of the heart, a faith that influences every moment of our lives. Such a faith confronts the God of the Holy Bible as an inescapable reality. Vagueness and doubt dissipates, senses become alert as though biting into something hot and spicy, and confidently we know that God is right in the midst of the present moment.  

This is not a faith that simply believes in God or has opinions about God. The church has multitudes of people who do that. It is one thing to recite the creeds of the church and utter words of belief, as almost all of us do. It is quite another thing to say, “God is in this place! I feel God’s presence.” That experience is like taking notice of a beautiful piece of art, imagination stirred by the rich use of colors or the complexity of brush strokes or standing on a beach watching a sunrise as if you had never seen one before. No one argues with a beautiful piece of art or with a sunrise. It is simply experienced.

              The critical difference is awareness. Consider a conversation I had some years ago in Pasadena, California. During my graduate studies there, I commented to a resident what a joy it is to wake each morning, pour a cup of coffee, and enjoy the beautiful mountain range. At that comment, my friend looked-up at the mountains, with no discernable emotion, and said, “After living here for a while, you no longer notice them.” My friend acknowledged the presence of the mountains but they were not real to him. He had lost his capacity to notice them and have them move him deeply by the beauty that they generously shared day after day. His heart was not pure. Rather, his heart, muddied by the multitude of the small and large things that occupied his thoughts, fell numb.

              Anything real to us results in emotional vividness. If such emotion is absent, we may question if we are paying attention, eyes wide open expecting the unexpected and anticipating wonder. Belief can be a profound matter, even courageous when such statement of belief may result in marginalization or persecution. However, often our beliefs lie at the surface of our lives, very present but lacking any meaningful impact on us. Perhaps attention to responsibility, to fulfilling daily tasks, or simply cynicism and exhaustion of the daily grind has narrowed our focus. Experiencing the uncommon in the ordinary requires a pure heart, that is, a heart released on occasion from the urgent tasks always before us, and open to the nuances of the present moment. It is what the Bible speaks of as stillness before God. Such a heart sees God in a child playing, in nature, in ordinary situations, and in opportunities to be useful to others. 

Joy,

            

---

[i] Thomas G. Long, Matthew. (Louisville, Kentucky: Westminster John Know Press, 1997) 50.

When God Seems Distant

The following meditation is from Doug Hood's book,

Nurture Faith: Five Minute Meditations to Strengthen Your Walk with Christ,

“I’m convinced that nothing can separate us from God’s love in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Romans 8:38a (Common English Bible)

Tommy Lasorda, former manager of the Los Angeles Dodgers, tells about an experience he had in church. One Sunday he was in Cincinnati for a ball game against the Reds. That morning he went to early morning Mass and happened to see the Red’s manger there. They were old friends and sat beside each other during Mass. Afterward, the Red’s manager said, “Tommy, I’ll see you at the ballpark. I’m going to hang around a little.” Lasorda said that when he reached the door, he glanced back over his shoulder. He noticed that his friend was praying at the altar and lighting a candle. He said, “I thought about that for a few moments. Then, since we needed a win very badly, I doubled back and blew out his candle.”ⁱ Though misguided, what a powerful demonstration of faith in God’s presence and activity!

Countless people today long for that deep confidence in God’s presence and activity in their lives. God seems distant to them. They plod through each day, fearful, anxious, and burdened with uncertainty. Some may remember once having a close relationship with God but that was a long time ago. Prayers seem to never rise higher than the ceiling – and that is when we even feel like praying! The good news is that this is not an uncommon experience in the Christian faith. Just as people can grow apart in relationships with one another, so we can drift away from God. As Thomas Tewell once said to me, the difference is that in human relationships, both parties contribute to the distance. But, in a relationship with God, the reality is that we drift away from God. God never drifts away from us.

In those moments when God seems distant, what are we to do? Perhaps an experience I had this past week will help. My daughter, Rachael, is in Norway – a studio photographer for the Holland America Cruise Lines. It’s not uncommon for Rachael to work twelve and fourteen hour days. Wi-Fi is limited and with her long hours it is difficult to “connect” with her by telephone or by other means in real time. Just this week, Rachael reached-out to me via Facebook Messenger. She said that for a limited time she was available to receive a phone call from me and that she really would like me to call. Immediately, I moved something that was already on my calendar to another time and placed the call. Do you see what happened? Suddenly, my greatest desire was to speak with my daughter. To do so, I had to make the time.

We reconnect with God the same way. We move beyond our desire to be close with God and carve-out time from our busy lives to simply be still in God’s presence. We open the Bible and read expectantly, asking God to speak powerfully through the words that we read on the page. We learn from our reading more about God, about God’s good desires for us, and we learn what God requires of us. We spend time together with God. And we listen; we listen deeply in the silence following our reading to the hunches, the promptings, and the direction we sense from God. As we respond positively, the distance we once felt from God begins to close. 

Joy,  

____________________

i William R. Bouknight, The Authoritative Word: Preaching Truth In A Skeptical Age. (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2001) 30.

Why?

The following meditation is from Doug Hood's book,

Nurture Faith: Five Minute Meditations to Strengthen Your Walk with Christ.

“We can’t find goodness anywhere.”

Psalm 4:6 (Common English Bible)

It would seem that the one who wrote these words has been paying attention to our daily news. After skimming the headlines of the morning paper or turning off the nightly news these seem to be our words; “We can’t find goodness anywhere.” A plane crash that kills everyone on board, religious extremist who take innocent lives, and violence in our cities – is any of that good? There are many who are weary; many who would ask, isn’t there anything good for us to see?

The mood here is one of desperation. This is a plea for someone, anyone, to show us something good – to point to the light in the darkness. And the darkness seems vast. Yet, though we may seek a pile of ready-made answers, the Bible does not provide them. Snappy answers or smooth arguments to the agonizing question of human experience are absent. All that remains is this plea before God.  But that is something. A plea before God is an affirmation of faith that there is God. There may be darkness in the world. But God is also in the world.

We may ask, “Why God would let something like this happen?” I received that very question this week in my email box. Yet, we must know that this is not the first time this question has been seriously raised. This is a question that stretches forward to us from the beginning of human sin. And there is our best clue to our question; human sin. All of humanity participates in a rebellion against God’s good purposes. It is that rebellion – both individual and corporate – that results in brokenness and hurt to others. The cross of Jesus is the central symbol of our faith because it reminds us that much happens in our world that is outside of God’s good desire for us. But God is in the world, and through the cross, seeks to reclaim this world stained and broken by sin

The God of love is not absent in this world filled with bad news. The cross demonstrates that God is right in the middle of it. More, the cross powerfully reminds us that even in the midst of our active rebellion, even while we are sinners, God dies for us. Who does that? Who dies for someone who is hurling their worst behavior at you? This Holy Week we are given that answer once again.

Joy,

When Faith Is Difficult

The following meditation is from Doug Hood’s book,

Nurture Faith: Five Minute Meditations to Strengthen Your Walk with Christ.

“We can’t find goodness anywhere.” 

Psalm 4:6 (Common English Bible)

If there remains anyone who argues that the Bible isn’t relevant for today they have demonstrated that they haven’t paid attention to the Bible – not close attention anyway. Is there anything more timeless than the agonizing cry, “We can’t find goodness anywhere?”  Each morning our minds are disturbed by the growing threat of the militant Islamic group, ISIS, the conflict between Israel and Palestine and the racial unrest in Ferguson, Missouri. Beneath these attention getting headlines is the less mentioned but continuing concern of the growing wealth gap in our country and the millions in our nation who struggle daily to simply have enough. There are no snappy answers to the painful question of human struggle.

It is well that the Bible does not offer a quick and pre-fabricated answer to this despairing cry. And it is best for us to refrain from such a temptation. First, we are not free to indulge in any cynical or dismissal attitudes such as, “Well, that’s life,” or, “Bad things just happen.” As followers of Jesus we are baptized into the common confession that our lives are in the hands of God, and that this God is a God of love. Second, we don’t occupy some place between God and the struggle of humanity. Not one of us has some special insight into the mysterious work of God in the midst of our common difficulty. Each of us must sweat it out with everyone else.

What remains is a prayer: “Lord, show us once more the light of your face.”  This is the prayer of the Psalmist and nothing new can be added. The prayer is the same today as it was yesterday, fresh and urgent. It is as new as the earthquake that shook the San Francisco Bay Area a few days ago and the agony that kept someone awake last night. It is new when we utter it personally, today. No devotional, not one inspirational book can answer the plea, the emotional depth of that prayer.

On our knees we pray. If we listen in the silences between our words the Holy Spirit reminds us that God was never absent in the horrors of human life in the Bible – nor will God be absent today. On the Via Dolorosa – the way of the cross – in Jerusalem, God was very present in the heart of human misery giving, giving and giving himself, so that after this there would be no fear, no despair and no doubt of God’s love. The cry, “We can’t find goodness anywhere,” still sounds in the streets of our communities. We live with it and we hear it echo in our souls. But the Spirit helps us recall the suffering of Christ – a suffering accepted out of Christ’s love for us. It is a love that will work for the good of all those who love him.

Joy,