character

Jan

2026

What’s in a name?

The Holy Name of Jesus, and Thoughts for the New Year

by David Sellnow

“What’s in a name?” That was a question Shakespeare famously asked. It’s a question I’d like us to consider today.

I remember a particular name from years ago, when I was a ministry intern at a large city church. A young mother asked us for baptism for her baby. I can’t recall her last name anymore, but I’ll always remember her son’s first name and middle names. The boy was to be called

Derambo Jabarray Earl. I asked her about the name, and she showed me a sheet of paper on which she’d written multiple variations stemming from the name Rambo—which came from a Sylvester Stallone movie they liked. They’d settled on Derambo, liking how that sounded. Jabarray was chosen as a middle name, because it sounded good with Derambo. And they added the father’s name, Earl, to make the child’s name complete. Derambo Jabarray Earl. I quite like that name!

In our culture, often we choose names we like the sound of or names that have some sentimental or family attachment for us. In biblical times, names were given with a meaning, sometimes reflecting circumstances about their birth. When Rebekah had twin sons, the first to come out was ruddy and had lots of hair, so she named him “hairy” (Esau, in their Semitic language). The second boy came out holding onto the firstborn’s heel, so she named him Jacob (meaning heel-grabber). Later in life, he was given a new name, Israel, which means “wrestles with God.” After insisting God give him a blessing, Jacob was told, “Your name shall be Israel, for you have striven with God and with men and have prevailed.”

Sometimes names expressed hopes or aspirations for the child. Jacob’s grandfather had been named Abram when he was born—an Akkadian-Babylonian name (from the region where the family was living), meaning “beloved father.” Maybe Abram was called “father” from birth because he was the oldest child, with the hope that he would carry on the family line. That name later seemed a cruel joke when Abram and his wife Sarai remained childless into their old age. But the LORD made a promise that came with a new name, telling Abram he would be a father. Indeed, “I will make you the father of a multitude of nations,” God said. He would be Abraham—”exalted father,” the patriarch of Jewish and Arab peoples and father in faith to all who trust in the Messiah descended from Abraham.*

When that Messiah—the promised one—came, what would his name be? Isaiah had prophesied a child to come who would be “Immanuel”—God with us. Jeremiah had prophesied he would be called “The LORD our righteousness.”. When Mary was found miraculously to be with child, an angel told her betrothed, Joseph, what the child’s personal name should be. And so, eight days after the child was born and it was time for his naming ceremony, he was called Jesus, the name given by the angel. In English we say Jesus, from the Greek and Latin forms of the name. In Aramaic (the language spoken by the Jews in Jesus’ time), they would have said “Yeshúa”—a shortening of the Hebrew name Yehoshúa (or “Joshua,” as we would say it.) It means, “The LORD saves”—exactly what God was doing for us through the incarnation of Christ in our world.

We’ve come to know Jesus by many names that describe who he is and what he has done for us. The title “Christ” or “Messiah” designates him as the Anointed One—set apart to be our priest, our prophet, our king. He is also called “the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” He is the Light of the World; following him we do not walk in darkness. He is the Bread of Life; whoever comes to him will never be hungry.

Do you notice something in Jesus’ name and the descriptions that are spoken of him? We are included in the meaning of his names. Jesus means “the Lord saves”—he saves us. Immanuel—God is with us. He is the Bread of Life for us, to feed our spirits; the Light of the World for us, to light our way. The name of Jesus—the identity of our God—is placed upon us and identifies who we are. Think of what we do each time we gather, sending you out into the world with the blessing of God’s name placed upon you. Just as God told his people long ago, he enfolds you in his name, saying:

The LORD bless you and keep you;
the LORD make his face to shine upon you, and be gracious to you;
the LORD lift up his countenance upon you, and give you peace.

That is how God puts his name on us as his people and promises he will bless us.

In Jesus’ time and Jewish culture, it was customary to give a baby boy his name on the day of his circumcision, which was a religious rite with sacramental significance. In Christian history, baptism has that same kind of sacramental meaning. In early eras of the church, when adult converts came to believe in Jesus, often they were given a new name, their baptismal name, at that time. And children, given their names at the time of their birth, have their names sanctified and included in God’s family in their baptism. Scripture promises us that God sent his Son, Jesus, in order to redeem us and make us his own. We are adopted as God’s children. As his children, we also are his heirs. Through Christ, we have all spiritual blessings and an eternal inheritance.

Whether our names are Jim or Judy or Casey or Quinn, every child of God from the creation of the world to the very last day has their names written in the Book of Life belonging to Jesus Christ. We are new people with Jesus’ name attached to our names, new creations in Christ.

Your name is part of your identity, who you are. Your personality, your thoughts, your passions, the things that are important to you—those are all part of your identity too. Your faith shapes your identity in significant ways. You are a person of God in Christ. Your plans, your priorities, your purpose will move in directions that God’s Spirit moves you. We may not always know where exactly life is taking us, but we have God’s words directing our way, asking us to acknowledge him in what we do. God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, and he helps us in our weaknesses. We may not even know how to pray as we ought, but Christ’s Spirit intercedes and helps us in ways words cannot express.

The beginning of a new year often is a time we think of reasserting our identities, establishing new goals and purposes for ourselves. We make New Year’s resolutions to make new persons of ourselves—to quit a bad habit or start a good habit, to eat healthier, to be more physically active, to manage our time better or manage our finances better, etc. Of course, quite often we fail. Recent research has shown that just 9% of Americans actually keep their resolutions throughout the year.

Probably we miss living up to our resolutions because we try to make the changes on our own, by ourselves, of our own willpower. And we’re not very forgiving with ourselves. If we resolve to cut down on sweets, and by January 18th we just can’t resist that Sunday morning donut, then we say, “Forget it!” and stop working at the resolution anymore. We give up on ourselves.

What if we saw any good, new intentions we set for ourselves not so much as New Year’s resolutions but as spiritual goals? What if we saw them as prayers, as hopes connected to our identity in Christ? We may not be very forgiving or patient with ourselves, but our gracious God is endlessly forgiving and patient with us. Long ago, when the LORD was giving his law—his word and commandments—to the people of Israel, in doing so he proclaimed his name to Moses. He declared himself as “The Lord, the Lord, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness.” That is the name, the identity, the truth of the Lord God whom we know and trust. As people claimed by him and baptized into his name, we also can be full of patience and generosity to ourselves and to others. Our lives are enriched with all sorts of meaning and value as lives of faith in Jesus’ name.

We don’t have to wonder about our worth or question our lives’ purpose. Wherever we are, whatever we’re doing, whoever we’re with, we are God’s children. We bear his name and carry his name with us in our world. New Year’s resolutions often are like trying to assert a new name, a new you, a new way of being. If we stop and think, though, we already have that newness as persons, because we have been baptized into the name of Jesus, our Savior. We are his. We are loved. We can do all things through Christ, who strengthens us. So, in the new year, in Jesus’ name, let us resolve as Scripture urges us—that whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, excellent and worthy of praise, we think about those things and rejoice in the Lord always. And each day, each week, each month, if we have times when we slip up and fail or make mistakes, we know that we have an advocate with the Father—Jesus Christ, the Righteous One, who is the atoning sacrifice for our sins and for the sins of the whole world.

Blessings to you in Jesus’ name, as people wrapped up in all the strength and hopes that his name brings. We all share a family name together as Christians, so we will encourage one another and build each other up as God’s people, considering how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds. May your new year be filled with grace and goodness, knowing that Christ’s Spirit goes with you each step of your way. The LORD will put his name on you, and he will bless you.

Main scriptures for the Feast of the Name of Jesus: Numbers 6: 22-27, Galatians 4: 4-7, Luke 2:15-21

Additional Bible verses mentioned in this devotion (in order as the references occur):

Genesis 32:8, Genesis 17:5, Isaiah 7:14, Jeremiah 23:6, John 1:2, John 8:12, John 6:35, Ephesians 1:3-6, Revelation 12:8, 2 Corinthians 5:17, Isaiah 30:21, Proverbs 3:6, Romans 8:26, Exodus 34:6, Philippians 4:1,8,13, 1 John 2:1,2, 1 Thessalonians 5:11, Hebrews 10:24

*For research on Abraham’s name, see this article: What Does the Name ‘Abraham’ Really Mean? | ArmstrongInstitute.org

Nov

2025

A message for Christ the King Sunday

Christ is our King. We are at peace, and we spread his peace.

by David Sellnow

Readings … Jeremiah 23:1-6, Colossians 1:11-20, Luke 23:33-43

I am not royalty. I’m not a VIP. I’m just an average guy, and I have more demerits than accolades on the report card of my life. Who am I to stand in the presence of Christ the King as someone speaking for him?

Yet that’s just the thing, isn’t it? Christ “is before all things, and in him all things hold together” (Colossians 1:17). But he does not hold himself out of reach, out of touch above us. He descended down to us. He walked among us as one of us. He called himself “the Son of Man”—a human person, like you and me. He said (and demonstrated by his life): “The Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45). Ultimately, he laid down his life for us, his death atoning for our sins; his resurrection vindicating us (Romans 4:25). Jesus does not push us down, as people beneath him. He lifts us up, to be his people and serve alongside him. That’s the kind of leadership Jesus provides us.

What kind of leadership do we frequently see in this world? We see bossiness, bullying, and belittling. We see intimidation, aggressiveness, and oppression. We see pettiness, pickiness, and bean counting.

By “bean counting,” I mean paying more attention to reports and spreadsheets of every little detail rather than asking, “Are we meeting the needs of the people we serve?” A former deputy in the White House Office of Science and Technology Policy described the problem as holding civil servants accountable for strict compliance with complex rules and requirements rather than evaluating the success of public services provided. There’s no holistic view of whether agencies are effective and helpful. It’s all about making sure workers jump through the prescribed procedural hoops (The Atlantic, 6/12/2023).

It can happen in more dramatic fashion too. In recent history, we’ve seen a government department head publicly post a memo that said: “All employees will receive an email requesting to understand what they got done last week [listing five accomplishments]. Failure to respond will be taken as a resignation.” That strategy lasted only a short while and did NOT inspire the workforce (Just Security, 2/22/25).

We live in a world where bad leadership happens repeatedly. Our culture is saturated with the knowledge of that reality. Books and movies and TV series abound that tell of toxic work environments and maniacal corporate figures (Succession, Mad Men, Horrible Bosses, WeCrashed). Horrible handling of political leadership has been portrayed in shows such as House of Cards, The Regime, Scandal. Art is imitating life. In real life, examples of ruthless leaders span across the globe, from the likes of Hitler and Mussolini and Stalin to others like Muammar Gaddafi, Idi Amin, Pol Pot. Those are only some of the names from the past 100 years, with many more from the centuries that came before. Think of great epic sagas in literature or film, like The Lord of the Rings or Star Wars. Even in visions of mythical lands long ago or galaxies far, far away, we can’t imagine life apart from a struggle against tyrants and warlords and evil empires.

The Scriptures tell us what the pattern of leadership and governance is like in this world. Nations are constantly in an uproar and kingdoms totter (Psalm 46:1). Those who are supposed to be shepherds often “destroy and scatter the sheep” (Jeremiah 23:1). They are supposed to lead the people but instead “have driven them away and have not attended to them” (Jeremiah 23:2).

Recall what God said about rulers in this world when the people of Israel said they wanted a king to govern them, like other nations (1 Samuel 8:5). The LORD told the prophet Samuel to grant their request, but also to “solemnly warn them and show them the ways of the king[s] who shall reign over them” (1 Samuel 8:9). Kings would be less concerned about them, the people, than they’d be about building up their own armies and power, their own palaces and ballrooms and court attendants, their own wealth and prestige.

When we speak of Christ as our King, we are not thinking according to the pattern of kings and bosses and rulers in this world.

Christ, our King, does not speak from the skies or come to us in our dreams to demand of us, “What five worthy things did you accomplish this week?” Rather, he speaks to us invitingly, saying, “Come to me, all you who are weary and are carrying heavy burdens … for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:28-29).

Christ, our King, is not eager to eradicate his enemies, eliminate anyone who isn’t obedient to him, or condemn those who’ve gotten into trouble. When Jesus’ enemies commanded soldiers to nail him to a cross, he said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34). To a criminal crucified alongside him, who asked, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom,” Jesus replied, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise” (Luke 23:42-43).

A true king, a devoted king, is not one who stands above the people and looks down on the people. A true king, a devoted king, is one who lives for the sake of the people, who suffers with and for the people. Jesus dying on the cross is what a true, devoted king looks like.

Jesus’ kingdom is a different kind of kingdom. He doesn’t lead by pomp and circumstance, even though he is Lord of the universe. He welcomes everyone into his kingdom—welcoming criminals and sinners—by granting forgiveness of sins. He doesn’t seek power and domination, because everything is already under his dominion. His kingdom is about making wars cease, about breaking the weapons of war (cf. Psalm 46:9). Jesus gives us peace of mind and heart that the world cannot give (John 14:27). He assures us, “Be still, and know that I am God.” He is with us as our refuge and strength, our help in trouble (Psalm 46:1,10,11). Jesus makes us “strong with the strength that comes from his glorious power,” so we may have all endurance and patience.” In Christ’s kingdom, we are rescued from the power of darkness and have redemption (Colossians 1:11-14).

Think of what Jeremiah prophesied. God would raise up a Righteous Branch from the family tree of David, who would reign as the true King. The name by which the Messiah would be called is “The LORD—our righteousness” (Jeremiah 23:5,6). That name proclaims how Christ saves us and makes us secure. He gives us righteousness. He absolves us. When Jeremiah says that through him we will be saved, he used the same word that formed the basis for Jesus’ name. The angel announcing Christ’s birth said, “You are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins” (Matthew 1:21). The salvation Jesus brings is not merely some political promise. Jesus saves us eternally. The safety and security that Jesus provides can never be shaken. As the psalmist said, some trust in horses and war chariots, but we trust in the name of the LORD our God. They collapse and fall, but we rise and stand firm (Psalm 20:7-8).

So, if our hearts are raised up in faith in Christ and we stand firm in hope in him, how then do we live? Will we be narcissistic, self-serving, rude, and dismissive? Certainly not. Yes, we are fallible and flawed. Yet Christ lifts us up and makes us his chosen people, a holy nation, people belonging to him (1 Peter 2:9). Jesus has “freed us from our sins by his blood and made us a kingdom” (Revelation 1:6), saying that we now are “kings and priests” in his name and that “we shall reign on the earth” (Revelation 5:10 NKJV). The Lord makes us his representatives, his spokespersons. He emboldens us to be agents of his mercy and peace, to go against the grain of all the bullying and browbeating and abusiveness that occurs in this world. We “are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his appeal through us” (2 Corinthians 5:20). We entreat others on behalf of Christ to be reconciled to God and to one another.

Whether we think so or not, we all are leaders in the lives that we lead. Parents are constantly molding and shaping their children. Brothers and sisters are examples and influences for one another. We show our neighbors and friends the kind of life we believe is worth living. We model integrity and commitment in how we serve in our workplaces. Everywhere we go, we are showing to others the life that Christ has awakened in us.

Martin Luther said we are like “little Christs” to others in the way that we live toward them. In his booklet, On the Freedom of a Christian (1520), Luther wrote:

A Christian will think: “Though I am unworthy, my God has given me in Christ all the riches of righteousness without any merit on my part, out of pure, free mercy. Therefore, I will give myself as a Christ to my neighbor, just as Christ offered himself to me.”
We do not serve so that others feel obligated to us. We do not distinguish between friends and enemies or anticipate their thankfulness or unthankfulness. We simply extend ourselves and what we have for others, without worrying about whether we gain any reward.
When we recognize the great and precious things given to us by our heavenly Father, our hearts are filled by the Holy Spirit with the love that makes us joyful servants of our neighbors—each of us becoming, as it were, a Christ to the other, and Christ may be the same in all, and we may be truly Christians.

Christ is the King who served us with his life. Christ calls us to serve alongside him in his kingdom, sharing his peace in this conflicted, difficult world. While the kings of this world lord it over people, we are not to be like that. Rather, Jesus said, the greatest among you must become like the lowest and the leader like one who serves (Luke 22, 25,26). Jesus led like that, getting down on the floor and washing his disciples’ feet (John 13). He came to our earth as one who serves, and he calls us today to serve others in his name. May we see ourselves daily as ambassadors of Christ’s kingdom of grace and hope, bringing the message of Jesus’ love and peace everywhere we go, to everyone we meet, in all that we do.

Scripture quotations, except where otherwise indicated, are taken from the New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition. Copyright © 2021 National Council of Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Aug

2024

Reexamining our trust in the Lord

A meditation concerning Psalm 34

by David Sellnow

Martin Luther said we treasure the Psalms because they lay bare the hearts and souls of the psalm writers—and our hearts along with them: “The human heart is like a ship on a stormy sea driven about by winds blowing from every corner of the earth. … These tempests of the heart” caused the psalm writers to wrestle with their faith. Their words induce us to examine the inner recesses of our own souls too.

Psalm 34 is a powerful example of reexamination of one’s own life and soul, of the need to trust in God rather than ourselves. David wrote Psalm 34 when looking back at a difficult time in his life—a time when he relied on his own ideas and cleverness rather than truly trusting the Lord.

The heading in the Hebrew Scriptures atop Psalm 34 says: A psalm “of David, when he feigned madness before Abimelech, so that he drove him out, and he went away.” Let’s explore that context to better understand the lessons David learned and, later, expressed in this psalm.

You remember that David, while still a pre-teen, had been chosen by the Lord and anointed by the Prophet Samuel to be Israel’s future king (1 Samuel 16). While still a teenager, David began to serve when needed as a court musician for the reigning king, Saul, who was troubled by an evil spirit. Whenever the evil spirit came upon Saul, David would come and play his lyre, “and Saul would be relieved and feel better, and the evil spirit would depart from him” (1 Samuel 16:23). Meanwhile, David continued to serve his own family, shepherding their sheep. During that time, David was sent by his father to see how his older brothers were doing at the battlefront of a standoff between the armies of Israel and the Philistines. David stepped into the foreground on that occasion, trusting implicitly in the Lord’s integrity and strength. He went out with just a slingshot and defeated the Philistines’ gigantic hero, Goliath, in a duel to the death. Following that, jealousy grew in King Saul’s heart against David. One day while David was playing music, Saul hurled a spear at him, trying to kill him, but David twice eluded the hurled weapons (1 Samuel 18:10,11). Saul then banished David from his presence, but sent him off as a main commander in Israel’s army (1 Samuel 18:13). Saul hoped David would die in battle. “Let the Philistines deal with him,” as he later said (1 Samuel 18:17). But David continued to have success. So. Saul brought David back to the palace and offered him the hand of one of his daughters in marriage. He offered his daughter Michal, who loved David, thinking to himself, “Let me give her to him so that she may be a snare for him”, distracting David’s focus so that the hand of the Philistines might prevail against him (1 Samuel 18:21). But the more Saul realized that the Lord was with David and that his daughter Michal loved David, the more Saul’s jealousy and fury grew. “So Saul was David’s enemy from that time forward” (1 Samuel 18:29). Again “Saul sought to pin David to the wall with a spear, but David eluded Saul and the spear landed in the wall (1 Samuel 19:10). David fled for his life, and Saul began actively making more concerted efforts to have David killed (cf. 1 Samuel 19:11 – 20:33).

That was when David, fearful of Saul, fled to Gath, the hometown of Goliath, the Philistine champion whom David had slain some years earlier. The city of Gath was also the seat of power for the Philistine king known as Achish or Abimelech, the very king who was at war with Saul and the kingdom of Israel. David had led armies in battle against the Philistines. He even was carrying the sword of Goliath with him when he went to Gath (1 Samuel 20:8-9). Did David think he could hide out in enemy territory and Saul wouldn’t come looking there? If he was hiding, that didn’t work. David was recognized, seized, and held under arrest (cf. Psalm 56, heading). Or maybe David was thinking, “The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” hoping the Philistines would protect him against Saul if he came over to their side. But David’s attempts to rescue himself went awry quickly. The officers of King Achish asked, “Isn’t David a king back in his own country? Don’t the Israelites dance and sing, ‘Saul has killed a thousand enemies; David has killed ten thousand’?” (1 Kings 21:11 CEV) David then became very much afraid of King Achish and his men. “So he changed his behavior before them; he pretended to be mad when in their presence. He scratched marks on the doors of the gate, and let his spittle run down his beard. Achish said to his servants, ‘You see the man is mad; why then have you brought him to me? Do I lack madmen, that you have brought this fellow to act like a madman in my presence” (1 Samuel 21:13-15)? The Philistines drove David out of their lands, back into Israelite territory. And Saul kept pursuing David, seeking to kill him.

So, that’s a bit of a story, isn’t it? That’s the context when the heading atop Psalm 34 in your Bible says: A psalm of David, when he feigned madness before Abimelech (also known as Achish), so that Achish drove David out, and he went away. At some point later in his life, David wrote two psalms (Psalm 56 and Psalm 34), with headings showing he was thinking about those days when he was on the run and ran to Gath. Looking back on his life, David recognized he had tried to save himself by his own ingenuity, resorting to desperate means, often failing to maintain his integrity as a man of God. In Psalm 56, written after the fact, David prayed to God: “When I am afraid, I put my trust in you. … This I know, that God is for me … the Lord, whose word I praise. … In God I trust; I am not afraid. What can a mere mortal do to me?” (Psalm 56:3,4,9,11). That’s the lesson David learned, the faith he confessed in retrospect. At the time, however, David was caught up in all sorts of fear and uncertainty and did not trust God would get him through it. Mere mortals like Saul and the Philistines scared him plenty. He tried to scheme his way out of trouble—to the point of slobbering on himself and acting as if he had lost all mental faculties. The great future king of Israel, the anointed of the Lord, acting as though his only hope was to pretend he was hopeless and witless, a nobody that was of no use to the Philistines or Israel.

We’ve seen it before in the lives of other great persons of faith—losing track of God’s promises, losing trust in God’s promises, and resorting to their own solutions to their dilemmas in life. Consider Abram and Sarai. They had been promised they would have a child in their old age. But what the Lord promised seemed too slow in happening, seemed not to be happening. So, they decided Abram should sleep with Sarai’s handmaiden, Hagar, and have a son with her. That was not what God intended. Or consider Moses. Born to an Israelite slave, Moses was raised in the Egyptian palace as a grandson of a pharaoh. When he grew up, Moses initially took it upon himself to do something about Egyptian abuse of Israelite slaves. One day, Moses “went out to his people and saw their forced labor. He saw an Egyptian beating a Hebrew, one of his kinsfolk. He looked this way and that, and seeing no one, he killed the Egyptian and hid his body in the sand” (Exodus 20:11-12). But what he did became known. Moses had to flee Egypt and was gone for forty years.

Too often in life, all of us as God’s people forget to trust God. We neglect to keep his steadfastness and truth in mind. We resort to our own solutions. We scratch and claw and act without integrity. We fail to believe if we follow the ways of God, if we wait on God, that we will be safe, we will be secure, we will stay alive.

David learned from what he went through. He had been flailing away trying to protect himself. But running in the wrong direction and engaging in lies and deceptions only made his situation worse, not better. Coming out of those experiences, David recognized that the Lord his God had protected him and rescued him, despite himself. The Lord had been with him through every day of trouble, and remained with him by grace even when David had made a bigger mess of things. That’s when David penned the words of Psalm 34, saying:

Magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together. …
Those who seek the Lord lack no good thing. …
Which of you desires life, and covets many days to enjoy good?
Keep your tongue from evil, and your lips from speaking deceit.
Depart from evil, and do good; seek peace, and pursue it. …
The Lord is near to the brokenhearted, and will save those whose spirits are crushed.
Many are the troubles of the righteous, but the Lord rescues them from them all. …
The Lord redeems the life of his servants;
none of those who take refuge in him will be condemned.
(Psalm 34:2,3,10,12-14,17-20,22)

God help us to learn the same lesson David did. As the apostle Paul urged us: Let us be careful how we live, not as unwise people but as wise, making the most of the time we have. Yes, often the days in this life are evil and troubles surround us, but we seek to understand what the will of the Lord is. We want to sing and make music to the Lord in our hearts always—no matter the circumstances of life in which we find ourselves. We give thanks to God the Father at all times and for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ. (Cf. Ephesians 5:15-20.) No matter what happens in this life, we maintain our trust in Jesus Christ, the living bread that came down from heaven. Partaking in the life that is in Christ, we know we will live forever. (Cf. John 6:51.) As another worship hymn from the Psalms says:

With the Lord on my side I do not fear.
What can mortals do to me?
It is better to take refuge in the Lord
than to put confidence in mortals.
It is better to take refuge in the Lord
than to put confidence in princes.
O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good,
for his steadfast love endures forever.
(Psalm 118:7-9, 29).

So, let us “revere the Lord, and serve him in sincerity and in faithfulness” (Joshua 24:14). Far be it from us that we should forsake the Lord to serve other gods or come up with our own schemes and strategies for getting through life or escaping harm. For when we look back on our lives, it has been the Lord who has stayed with us through thick and thin (cf. Joshua 24:16-18). Even in those moments when we did stupid things, acted like we maybe had lost our minds, or fell into dreadful sins, God still did not abandon us. Think of David later in his life as king, when he forgot what he expressed in this psalm. He let power go to his head and let lust overtake his will. He engaged in adultery and murder and a cover-up. Yet again, God did not abandon him, but sent the prophet Nathan to confront David in his sin and call him back to the Lord’s mercy and back to faith. (Cf. 2 Samuel 11 & 12.)

This life is full of challenges to our faith and decency and all that is good. As the apostle Paul said, “Our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh” (Ephesians 6:1200. We are up against “the evil rulers of the unseen world … and huge numbers of wicked spirits in the spirit world” (Ephesians 6:12 TLB). So, we need to arm ourselves not with the tools or devices of this world, not even with the mighty sword of a Goliath (which ultimately did David no good). We take up the whole armor of God—the sword of the Spirit, the shield of faith, the breastplate of righteousness, the helmet of salvation—so that we may be able to withstand evil. We stand firm when we stand in the righteousness God has given us in Christ and cling always to the words that Jesus has spoken to us—words that are spirit and life (John 6:63). There’s really nowhere else we can run for safety, nowhere else we can go to have hope and peace and goodness in our lives, no one else who can hold onto us for eternity.

May we daily say, as Jesus’ disciples said, “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life” (John 6:68).

Scripture quotations, except where otherwise indicated, are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Sep

2023

Learning how to forgive

Readings for 16th Sunday after Pentecost, Sep. 17, 2023

Learning how to forgive — forgive freely, but not cheaply

by David Sellnow

We have a hard time with forgiveness. Maybe you have been on the receiving end of a grudge. You wronged someone. It was years ago, and they haven’t spoken to you since. Or maybe you’ve been the one holding a grudge. You’ve turned away from someone, ignored them, ghosted them, because they betrayed or disappointed you in some way. Or perhaps you haven’t gone that far. You’ve had your differences with a family member or friend or neighbor, and you’ve put up with them. You looked the other way; you said, “It’s OK.” Meanwhile, though, you kept a mental record of each and every infraction—what they did and when they did it. Whatever the issue or the behavior, you find yourself thinking: “How many times do I need to forgive? It’s been seven times already. Is seven enough?” Remember, though, Jesus’ response to that question: “Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times” (Matthew 18:22). Jesus does not want us putting limits and restrictions on how much we’re willing to forgive. Our God certainly has not set restrictions on his own capacity to forgive us.

Jesus illustrated the too-frequent difference between God forgiving us and us forgiving others with his parable of the unmerciful servant (Matthew 18:23-35). The servant had been forgiven by the king of a debt of 10,000 talents, an unpayable debt that was simply wiped off his record. That same servant turned around and pursued legal action against a fellow servant who owed him 100 denarii. In the Roman empire, a denarius was a coin used to pay a daily wage. A talent was a unit of weight for gold or silver, about 75 pounds. To add up to one talent of value, you’d need 6,000 denarii. So a debt of 10,000 talents would be 60,000,000 denarii. After having a debt of 60,000,000 denarii expunged by the king’s grace, the man harshly refused to show any leniency with a peer who owed him 100 denarii. How often are we like that? We forget how merciful God has been in his dealings with us, and we show little or no mercy in our dealings with others.

Sometimes too, we withhold forgiveness because we have invented our own infractions and cut people off for arbitrary reasons. We are like the early church folks who were judging each other for which days they observed as holy days or what foods they did or didn’t allow themselves to eat. Christ’s apostle needed to remind them: “Those who eat must not despise those who abstain, and those who abstain must not pass judgment on those who eat; for God has welcomed them. Who are you to pass judgment on servants of another?” (Romans 14:2-4).

We get carried away in self-asserted certainties and punish people for going against our expectations—which may be far from God’s own commands. Some real-life examples:

A father hasn’t spoken to his adult son for decades, because the son joined a church of a different denomination. Is that man so sure God is present only in his own type of congregation and in no other places?
A friend has not forgiven a friend for accepting a position and moving to another part of the country. Resentment set in about being “abandoned”—as If the Lord God had issued commands that the friend should have remained forever in one place on this earth.
A student severed a friendship from a classmate who stopped letting them copy homework assignments, blaming the classmate when they failed the assignments.

Sometimes we are the ones sinning, holding grudges, creating or maintaining divisions. Yet we blame it on the other persons rather than admitting our own insincerities and inconsistencies.

I once attended a church elders meeting, where one elder came to the meeting concerned about all of the “deadwood” in the congregation (members who had not been to worship for a while). He had a proposal. He had prepared samples of a series of letters to send to people. The first letter would warn them about the dangers of not attending church. If they didn’t respond or return to worship within six weeks, the church would send the second letter, with stronger warnings. Then, if they didn’t respond or return to church within another six weeks, the church would send the third letter, informing the recipients that they would be excommunicated. All of this was planned without making any sort of personal outreach effort to those members: no phone call, no personal visit. Just a series of three form letters, then their names would be removed from the church roster. Thankfully, the other elders on the board spoke up before the pastor even had to say anything. This was not a gospel-oriented idea. This was not how they were going to do ministry. Still, the fact that the idea was raised says something about the way we sometimes feel—ready to write people off, be done with them, rather than continuing to extend forgiveness.

I wonder how such a series of letters would have affected a church member I met in a different congregation. When I came to the congregation as the new pastor, I made an effort to visit each member’s home. There were, of course, plenty of members who had not been active in church for some time. One woman had been absent for years after having been very active previously. When I asked what had caused her to pull away, she described how it had happened after she and her husband had lost a child. The experience strained their marriage. She and her husband eventually divorced. Immediately after the child’s untimely death, church members showed her much caring and concern. But as time went on, she grew tired of facing people in the congregation, who always greeted her with such a sad look, always so worried about her. It was almost pushing her to continue to dwell in the grief and loss and pain. She just couldn’t handle that anymore, so she stopped coming. She’d visited some other churches along the way, but had not felt at home yet anywhere else. It was good that I went to visit her, and it was time that she was ready to return and become part of that church family again.

We don’t always know what is going on in someone else’s mind or heart. We should not rush to judgment about their seeming lack of expression of faith, or sins or troubles they seem to keep stumbling into. Far better that we be patient with them, with everyone—as we would want people to be patient with us—when struggling through something damaging or difficult.

Think of the Lord and his dealings with Israel. The Lord did not support their patterns of wandering and straying from his side. Yet at the same time, he was always in a posture of forgiveness, ready to embrace his people when they returned to him. Think of the picture Jesus gave us of the father of the prodigal son (Luke 15:11-32). The father kept waiting for his son to come to his senses, to want to be home. He was watching and hoping every day for that change of heart. That is the stance of our God. He is not glad that we are doing wrong or living in senseless ways. He is always ready to grant us a place at his table and a celebration when we are back in his home and his family. As one of our most treasured psalms says of the LORD’s way of forgiveness: “The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. He will not always accuse …. He does not deal with us according to our sins …. As a father has compassion for his children, so the Lord has compassion for those who fear him” (Psalm 103:8-13).

We pray that our ability to forgive will grow more and more like the compassionate heart of the LORD our God.

Having said that, let’s remember something else about the Lord’s way of forgiveness. Giving the gospel to someone who keeps wallowing in their own mud, refusing to repent, is like tossing pearls before swine (Matthew 7:6). While our usual failing is that we are too slow to forgive, there are also times when Christian people can be too quick to forgive. Excusing those who aren’t aren’t really ready for forgiveness can be harmful. We are seeking real restoration in our relationships, not simply sweeping hurts and abuses under the rug.

Let me offer an example, from a social worker in a domestic violence shelter. This was in the Bible belt; the majority of women who sought shelter there from brutal abuse were deeply religious persons. Most of the staff were not church people, though, and they were frustrated by a pattern they were seeing. The religious women believed they had to forgive immediately. The minute their man would say, ‘I’m sorry,’ they’d go back to him. The shelter would see them again within days or weeks, beaten up worse than the last time. According to Domestic Shelters.org, most women return to an abusive relationship six or more times, for various reasons, repeatedly subjecting themselves to the violence. At this Bible belt shelter, the averages were driven even higher by the religious conviction, “‘I must forgive,” pulling women back to their partners prematurely. In her work at the shelter, the Christian social worker of my acquaintance was asked to offer her perspective and counsel these women. She began pointing the women to the meaning of the word “repentance,” which indicates a change of heart and mind. It is a transformation, a turnaround, moving in new directions. As John the Baptist emphasized, those who repent will “bear fruit worthy of repentance” (Matthew 3:8). The women also needed to be reminded of how Joseph dealt with his brothers. Joseph’s brothers had sold him to slave traders when he was a teenager (cf. Genesis 37). By God’s providence over many years, Joseph went from being a slave in Egypt to becoming a government official, second only to the pharaoh himself. Then, when a famine hit, Egypt was the only place with storehouses of food. Joseph was in charge of the food program. When Joseph’s brothers came to Egypt to buy food (and didn’t recognize Joseph), he put them through quite an ordeal to test them. He wanted to verify that they were different than they had been. He didn’t rush to reunite with them. He made sure they were repentant first. So, when he did reveal his identity to his long-lost brothers and welcomed them with open arms, the reunion was real. He had the whole family come down to live in Egypt, including his aged father. Then, when father Jacob died, the brothers became worried that Joseph’s kindness to them would stop, that he had only been showing them mercy because of their father’s presence. But Joseph again reassured them and spoke kindly to them. Joseph modeled his forgiveness after the forgiveness of God himself. (Cf. Genesis 50:15-21.) God had brought about good for Joseph, and Joseph was glad his relationship with his brothers had been healed.

When it comes to forgiveness, much of the time we are too slow to forgive, too arbitrary, too stingy. We are too easily like the unmerciful servant Jesus described, wanting to take people by the throat and demand, “Pay me what you owe me!” (cf. Matthew 18:38). Other times we are too quick to forgive, too enabling, too carelessly handing out pardons while the crimes are still being committed. Our Lord, Jesus, has instructed us to “be as wary as serpents, and as innocent as doves” (Matthew 10:16 NASB). Learning how to forgive is an uphill journey for us. But with the Spirit’s wisdom guiding us on, we can learn how to forgive so that relationships are fully healed, families and friends genuinely reunited.

May God give us the wisdom to be careful when unrepented sin must be confronted with strength, and also the grace to give wholehearted forgiveness to fellow sinners in need of mercy. May we show mercy to our fellow servants of God, our King, in the same way that God, our King, has shown mercy to us (cf. Matthew 18:33).

Jun

2022

Teaching a Love for Souls

Pentecost Sunday, 2022

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Luke’s Pentecost narrative [Acts chapter 2] challenges the church today to find even more effective ways of communicating the gospel to peoples in every land on earth. … Just as the early Christians moved beyond the land of Israel and the Jewish people, so we must help all the peoples in our world hear and express the gospel in their own languages and according to their own cultural patterns. – Daniel J. Harrington, “The Challenge of Pentecost,” America (May 5, 2008)

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Many peoples, one God

The sign over the classroom door encouraged students’ eagerness: “Enter with an open mind.” Inside, though, an open-minded approach was not consistently encouraged. In this elementary classroom at a Christian school, religious lessons for the month were focused on the practices of other groups, organizations, and faiths (different from the affiliation of the parochial school). The children would come home and tell their parents, “Do you know what this (or that) group believes? They’re so weird!” The lessons were teaching young denomination members to judge others. One of the assignments, mislabeled as an “evangelism exercise,” asked the children to compose a letter that they would send to Tom Cruise, trying to convince him of the dangers and evils of Scientology.

Certainly, God tells us to be wary of temptations and to steer clear of false teachings. Yet our call as evangelists (proclaimers of good news) is to be warm and winsome in our witness to others, to be models and messengers of the character of Christ. It is an unhappy consequence if education efforts lead us to become insular and narrow and focused on our own ways and practices. Our discipleship goal in the body of Christ is not to close minds and hearts or isolate ourselves from others in our communities. Rather, we seek to expand and enrich our own understanding and reach out to others with the truths we have come to know in Christ.

The apostle Paul advised us, “From now on … regard no one from a human point of view” (2 Corinthians 5:16). We don’t calculate who might be more inclined to agree with us or who seems too different from us. We take a view that is open to the wide variety of persons in our world–all of whom are people for whom Jesus died and rose again. We don’t close ourselves off from the world around us or avoid those who seem “weird” to us. [Truthfully, we likely seem “weird” to them too.] Our aim is to live in the world and impact the world by the testimony of lives in Jesus. We want to be seasoned by the Spirit to serve as the salt of the earth, to walk as children of the light to give off light to the world (cf. John 13:35-36). May we see ourselves (and teach our children to see themselves) as ambassadors for Christ, imploring other’s on Christ’s behalf to be reconciled to God (cf. 2 Corinthians 5:20). That will be our way of “praising God and having the goodwill of all the people” (Acts 2:47).

A Pentecost prayer:

God of all the nations, we pray for your one, holy, catholic and apostolic church. Praise to you for the great diversity present in the peoples, languages, rituals and practices of all people who follow you in the name of Jesus Christ. Turn us from fear of difference toward celebration. We pray for all people globally. Through the Spirit, grant us the power to be your disciples in the world. In our worship and in our work in the world, guide us to be good neighbors to our neighbors near and far. Free us from prejudice, that we may see your face in people around the world, through Jesus Christ, our Savior, and share his peace with all. (Adapted from Celebrate Global Ministries, Pentecost Sunday, 2017)

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Mar

2022

Patience

A meditation focused on Psalm 129

PATIENCE

See Psalm 129 in The Message: The Bible in Contemporary Language by Eugene Peterson

Have you heard the apocryphal story about the woman who asked her pastor to pray for patience for her? Let’s hope it’s not a true story, because it would be terrible ministry practice. (Cf. article by Tim Harvey in The Messenger, 11/13/2019.)

The story goes like this:

A woman came to see her pastor. She said, “I am struggling with losing my patience. I get so frustrated dealing with my kids. At work, the policies and procedures and red tape infuriate me. When standing in line at the grocery store, I get agitated and just want to scream. Pastor, would you pray for me, that I can learn to be more patient?”

“Sure,” her pastor replied, and began to pray: “Lord, give this woman trouble and pain. Bring about times of distress and difficulty. Cause her to suffer …”

“Wait, wait, wait!” The woman interrupted. “Please stop! I didn’t ask for you to pray for me to have pain and suffering. I asked you to pray for patience for me.”

The pastor took a Bible off the desk (King James Version, of course), opened to Romans chapter 5, and read: “We glory in tribulations … knowing that tribulation worketh patience” (Romans 5:3 KJV). If you want patience, what you need is more suffering.

I hope no pastor would take such an insensitive approach. There is, though, a grain of truth to consider. Scripture does say we welcome sufferings when they come, “knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope” (Romans 5:3-4). God doesn’t take pleasure in seeing us suffer; he loves us and strengthens us with his Spirit (Romans 5:5). When powers and people in this life kick us around and knock us to the ground, we hang on to hope in God’s promises. We trust he is working to deepen our relationship with him, build our resilience over struggles, and prepare us for an eternal reward as people called to be his own.

Our natural tendencies do not tend toward patience. As Pastor Eugene Peterson put it in his book, A Long Obedience in the Same Direction, we are people who are constantly “whining and chattering … and running and fidgeting,” which causes us to miss listening to the slow, calm, merciful words and ways of God (p. 114). “The way of the world is peppered with brief enthusiasms” (p.123), of chasing after one thing and then another, because this world is a temporal, temporary, wibbly-wobbly sort of place. That which is enduring and permanent–that which is everlasting–can only be found in relationship with God. But that’s not what counts to us when we’re always tracking daily stock prices and quarterly business reports and scrolling what’s trending on social media and what’s streaming on our TVs or tablets or all the other devices we’ve accumulated to occupy our time.

Our chronic impatience–our pursuit of “brief enthusiasms”–spills over into spiritual life too. For example, a number of years ago, I attended a concert in Houston. The headline act was Leon Patillo, who had been lead singer for Santana. He had found Jesus and turned to making Christian contemporary music. His vibe was bouncy and boisterous, like you’d have heard in dance clubs, except with lyrics full of “Praise God!” and “Hallelujah!” Oodles of young kids had come to party to his synthesizer sounds, and they were bored with the opening act (the person I had actually come to see). His name was Michael Card. Those of you in my age bracket may recognize his name as the songwriter of “El Shaddai,” “Love Crucified Arose,” and other thoughtful songs focusing on the life of Christ revealed in the Gospels. Midway through his brief portion of the show, as the young people were impatient for the headline act to take the stage, Michael Card paused and spoke sincerely to the audience. He said, “Christian life is not one big party; I want you to realize that. We are not here only to jump and sing and dance, but to struggle in the name of Jesus as we proclaim him to the world.” And then he read from Philippians chapter 3 (verses 10-11): “I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the sharing of his sufferings by becoming like him in his death, if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead.”

Michael Card had it right. Jesus does not promise us constant fun or problem-free living on this earth. He does promise inner joy that transcends outward circumstances, life forever to those who endure and overcome.

Psalm 129 has a message of a similar mood. Worshipers on their way up to Jerusalem would sing this song, remembering their history as a people, trusting God’s enduring faithfulness to them, and praying that the enemies of God’s people would be thwarted.

Think of the patience needed to be an Old Testament believer in the promises of God.

Abraham was promised by God that he would be the father of a great nation, bringing about blessings through him and his descendants (Genesis 12:1). He was 75 years old at the time (Genesis 12:4). The promise was laughable. Then, Abraham was made to wait 25 years before the miraculous promise was fulfilled and the son Isaac was born, when he was 100 years old and his wife Sarah was 90 (cf. Genesis 17:17, 21:5-7).
Jacob was promised that the land inhabited by Abraham, his grandfather, and Isaac, his father, would become the homeland of that nation of their descendants (Genesis 35:11-12). Then, in his old age, Jacob and his whole extended family needed to emigrate to Egypt to survive a time of famine (cf. Genesis 42-47). Not until a couple hundred years later did the Israelites, as a people, exit Egypt and go back to the promised land.
The history of Israel from that point forward wasn’t easy either. In the days of the Judges, the people faltered in their faithfulness and experienced a series of attacks against them by surrounding peoples such as the Moabites, Midianites, Canaanites, Ammonites, and Philistines. During the time of the Kings, forces that opposed God’s plans for his people continued to afflict them from both inside and outside their nation. Eventually, the northern tribes of Israel fell under the domination of the empire of Assyria, and then the southern tribes (the nation of Judah) fell to the empire of Babylon. Some think that Psalm 129 may have been composed during the time of exile in Babylon or after Jewish exiles returned from there decades later.

With that history of Israel’s struggles in mind, the psalm writer reminisces: “They’ve kicked me around ever since I was young”–so says Israel–”but they never could keep me down” (Psalm 129:1,2 MSG). In poetic imagery, the psalm sees the history of Israel as if others were driving plows up and down their back, ripping deep into their flesh. Yet they were not destroyed. They were not defeated. God kept coming to Israel’s aid, “ripping the harnesses of the evil plowmen (Israel’s enemies) to shreds” (Psalm 129:4 MSG), rescuing his people.

When I read Psalm 129’s description of how the enemies of Israel were gouging and ripping up the back of the people of Israel, I can’t help but think of another image of suffering. Jesus Christ went through an ordeal of suffering. We call it “The Passion of the Christ” because suffering is the original meaning of the Latin term passio. When Jesus was brought before the Jewish authorities as an enemy of the people, those “who were holding Jesus began to mock him and beat him; they also blindfolded him and kept asking him, ‘Prophesy! Who is it that struck you?’” (Luke 22:63-65). Jesus was then dragged before the Roman governor Pontius Pilate as an enemy of the empire. Though there was no basis to the charges against Jesus, Pilate had him flogged–at two points during the process, it seems (cf. John 19:1 and Matthew 27:26, Mark 15:15). The 2004 movie, The Passion of the Christ, dramatized how gruesome scourging by Roman soldiers could be. Mel Gibson’s original theatrical release of the film dwelt on that torture scene for ten minutes. Subsequent editions of the film cut five minutes of the goriest visuals, because viewers and critics had found it too horrible to watch. If the image of it is too horrible for us to endure, what of the horror endured by Jesus himself, actually experiencing such a thing? And then experiencing the horrors of crucifixion, slowly suffocating to death? And the horror of soul in bearing all the weight of humanity’s separation from God as an act of atonement for us, causing him to cry out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:46)?

We can have patience in our ordeals in life because we know we have a God who is on our side. He has suffered with us and for us. “We do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Hebrews 4:15-16).

Now, there’s a part of Psalm 129 that we haven’t addressed yet, which we can’t ignore. The last verses of the psalm approach the throne of God with a prayer for punishment on all those who have hated and opposed Zion–God’s holy mountain, God’s people, his church. “Oh, let all those who hate Zion grovel in humiliation; let them be like grass in shallow ground that withers before the harvest” (Psalm 129:5-6 MSG). Is that a righteous prayer? Are we allowed to pray for judgment against “the evil plowmen” who have “plowed long furrows up and down” our backs? Are we allowed to ask God to rip “the harnesses of the evil plowmen to shreds” (cf. Psalm 129:3,4 MSG)? When Christ was crucified, didn’t he say, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing” (Luke 23:34)?

Yes, Christ urges us to show patience and forgiveness to all. At the same time, we also speak out against those who knowingly and persistently act against righteousness and justice and goodness. Jesus himself forcefully upended the tables of the merchants and money changers doing business in the temple area, even making a whip to drive away all their merchandise–sheep and cattle they were selling for sacrifices (John 2:13-17). God’s prophets again and again decried those who acted unjustly. The prophet Amos warned the proud and powerful in his day, saying, “I know how many are your transgressions, and how great are your sins—you who afflict the righteous, who take a bribe, and push aside the needy. … Hate evil and love good. … Is not the day of the Lord darkness, not light, and gloom with no brightness in it [to those who are wicked]?… Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream” (Amos 5:12,15,21,24).

We are called to a path of patience like God’s own patience, “not wanting any to perish, but all to come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9). But that doesn’t mean we wish people well in their path of sin or smile cheerfully when evil and hurtful things occur. Christians can get confused about that sometimes. I know someone who worked in a domestic violence shelter in the Bible belt. Many of the women entering the shelter were deeply Christian in their convictions. As soon as their terror subsided and their wounds and bruises began to heal, they began feeling it was their duty to go back to their husbands and forgive them. The shelter team had trouble keeping these women safely in the program, because of their compelling urge to turn the other cheek and forgive quickly. The advice I offered? Remind the battered women of the example of Joseph in dealing with his brothers. Joseph had been mistreated by his brothers and sold off into slavery by them. God kept Joseph safe and put him in a position where later his brothers came before him (not recognizing who he was, as he became a leader in Egypt and had the appearance of an Egyptian). Joseph very much wanted to forgive and reconcile with his brothers, but didn’t rush into doing so. He put his brothers through a series of tests of character to see if they were still the same uncaring men who had sold him into slavery more than a decade earlier (cf. Genesis chapters 42-45). Once it was clear they were changed, repentant persons, he revealed himself, and a genuine reunion and reconciliation occurred.

Loving Zion–loving the kingdom of God and all that is good–means we will not smile and nod toward those who hate Zion or do evil. We will, in all honesty, feel what the ancient psalm-singers felt when they sang: “Let all those who hate Zion grovel in humiliation.” We don’t say, “Congratulations on your wonderful crop! We bless you in God’s name!” (Psalm 129:8 MSG) to those who achieve their great harvest or success by abusing or exploiting or taking advantage of people to get it. We call evil evil, and we call good good. We pray for the good of all, and we pray against that which is evil. And we wait patiently while enduring suffering and hurt in a world that is plagued by much that is evil, knowing we have a God who is good and who will rescue us from all that is painful in his appointed time.

The Passion of Christ has shown us how God achieves what is valuable for us. There was nothing quick or easy about the path set before Jesus. He trod that bloody, anguished path for us. And he promises us that when our patience is tried and tested, he remains with us, building our endurance, giving us hope. As the Scriptures testify: “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies. For while we live, we are always being given up to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus may be made visible in our mortal flesh” (2 Corinthians 4:8-11). This is our calling in Christ.

Unless otherwise indicated, Scripture quotations are rom the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Scripture quotations marked MSG are taken from THE MESSAGE, copyright © 1993, 2002, 2018 by Eugene H. Peterson. Used by permission of NavPress. All rights reserved. Represented by Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.

Apr

2021

Raised up with Jesus

From fear to hope and newness of life

Bible readings for 3rd Sunday of Easter: Acts 3:12-19, 1 John 3:1-7, Luke 24:36-48

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Are you afraid? A more precise question would be: What fears do you have? We all have fears to one degree or another. A lot of us have a lot of fears that dwell in our hearts and dominate our thinking. The past year of pandemic and political turmoil has pushed fears to the surface even more than before.

I’m afraid of COVID-19. People close to me have died due to that disease. So many people have died overall. I’m not a young man, and I have other risk factors. I’m grateful that I’ve been able to be vaccinated. But I fear we’re not out of the woods yet in dealing with the health threat of the pandemic. I also have other, underlying fears that keep bothering me. I worry about job security. I wonder if I’ll have sufficient funds when I get older and am no longer working. I want to know that my kids all will have stability and happiness in their lives and careers–and so much about the future is uncertain. I fear for our country. I fear for our world. There seems no end of economic uncertainty, societal controversies, international pressures and tensions … and the planet itself seems to be groaning and convulsing with environmental problems along with all our human problems (cf. Romans 8:19-23).

There have been studies and surveys done about what fears are troubling people the most. One survey showed that 83% of Americans fear that the next generation will be worse off than we are today. 76% are afraid we are losing democracy in America. 58% fear climate change will cause harm in the area where they live. A survey in another country, conducted during the pandemic, found that the vast majority of young adults feared losing a relative. More than half expressed a general anxiety about the future. A third of young adults said they were seriously or very seriously afraid that the worst was going to happen, with almost all the rest saying they moderately or somewhat felt that way. Less than 10% said they never feared that the worst was going to happen.

Beyond fears about the external world, we have deeper fears too, that linger in our souls. We have fears caused by our sense of guilt and shame. We’ve heard the news that we are forgiven, but we struggle to believe that news. We can’t shake the feeling that our past sins will come back to haunt us–maybe even eternally. Maybe we still have our doubts about eternity itself–if there is really life after death.

And when we do manage to hold onto faith, we waver in expressing our faith. We’re afraid that the people of this world and the powers in this world are set against us. We fear we’re not up to the challenge of living our beliefs openly in the community. We fear opposition. We fear ridicule. We fear being thought of as naïve or out of touch. We worry about our own inadequacies. We are immobilized by our uncertainties.

What does Jesus say to all our fears? You know what he says: “Peace be with you” (Luke 24:36). “Don’t be afraid,” (Matthew 28:10). He said such words when he appeared to the women who found his tomb empty and to his disciples when he appeared to them inside a locked room. I’ve heard it said that the phrase, “Fear not” or “Don’t be afraid” occurs 365 times in the Bible, once for every day of the year. Actually, if you account for the various Bible translations and many different words that describe our fears (anxiety, worry, trepidation, alarm, dread), the Bible actually talks about fear far more than 365 times. It is a constant theme of God’s word to us. He is our God; his love is our strength. So the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, melts our fears and guards our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus (cf. Philippians 4:7). That doesn’t mean our fears aren’t real. It doesn’t mean fears cease to exist and we live blissfully unaware of any threats or worries. There is plenty to make us afraid, day after day. But the presence of the living, breathing, miraculous Savior Jesus enables us to overcome fear.

Think of the disciples as they cowered in hiding and did not know what to do in the days after Christ’s crucifixion. They weren’t out in the streets protesting the brutality of the Roman guards who had beaten and killed Jesus. They feared the Romans, and they feared their own community members who had demanded that Jesus should die. They didn’t know what to think when friends of theirs came hurrying back to Jerusalem to tell them Jesus was alive and had been with them while they were on the road. And when Jesus appeared again right there among them, they thought they were seeing a ghost. Jesus had to ask them for a piece of fish and eat it in front of them to convince them he was real and they weren’t hallucinating (cf. Luke 24:36-43).

Now think also of those same disciples some weeks later, at the festival of Pentecost and in the days thereafter. Having seen the risen Christ and being strengthened by his Spirit, they became bold enough to stand up and speak out about Jesus and his resurrection. Peter, who had bragged that he would never fall or back down (cf. Matthew 26:33), had crumbled into curses and denials when Jesus was put on trial. But then Peter saw Jesus risen from death (cf. 1 Corinthians 15:5) and was assured by Jesus that he remained in Jesus’ love and still had a place as an apostle for Jesus (cf. John 21:15-19). A new boldness took over in Peter–not one from his own bravado or self-confidence. Now he lived and spoke as a new person, changed by the power of Jesus’ resurrection. And Peter offered to people who had participated in the killing of Jesus the same path of redemption and forgiveness that he had experienced himself. Peter said to the people: “You handed over and rejected [Jesus] in the presence of Pilate, though he had decided to release him. … You rejected the Holy and Righteous One … and killed the Author of life, whom God raised from the dead. To this we are witnesses. … And now, friends, I know that you acted in ignorance, as did also your rulers. … Repent therefore, and turn to God so that your sins may be wiped out” (Acts 3:13-19).

When Peter told his fellow Israelites, “You killed the Author of life,” he wasn’t preaching from some high and mighty perch, seeing himself as better than his hearers. He knew well his own shame and guilt. He wanted others–even those complicit in the death of Jesus–to know the rejuvenating power of Jesus’ life. Those who believe in Jesus are brought to new life by Jesus.

We are believers in Jesus’ resurrection. Our confidence that there is a heavenly future for us comes from knowing that whoever believes in Jesus will live, even though we die (cf. John 11:25-26). We stake our lives–our eternal lives–on that promise of Jesus.

I wonder how much, though, we realize the power of Christ’s resurrection in our lives already now. From the moment we first believed, we crossed over from death to life (cf. John 5:24). From the moment we became baptized members of God’s family, our lives changed. We are not just called children of God; that is who and what we truly are, as John reminded us (1 John 3:1). Another apostle, Paul, said this also: “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life” (Romans 6:3-4).

So, sin and death are no longer the dominant forces in our lives. The life of Christ is the power that is at work within us. The resurrection of Christ empowers us, enlivens us. If we ponder that, what does it mean for our current lives?

It means we stop seeing faith as if it is just knowledge, just a way of thinking. We come to understand that faith is a way of being. It is a life of faith that we lead, inspired and moved and guided by the Lord who went before us into death and came out alive again. Living by the power of Jesus’ resurrection means we are new creations (cf. 2 Corinthians 5:17). We don’t hang around in our old patterns of sin and shame and falling short. “No one who abides in Christ sins” (1 John 3:6). We strive now to do what is right, just as Jesus is righteous (cf. 1 John 3:7).

And if you think, “I’m not strong enough to do that, to be that person” … let me remind you that the “immeasurable greatness of God’s power,” the same power that God put “to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand” (Ephesians 1:19-21), is also the power that is now at work in you by faith.

So, what will it look like if our lives are empowered by Jesus’ resurrection? What will our character and conduct look like as witnesses for Jesus? Peter, who spoke the powerful words we heard earlier to his fellow people in Jerusalem, described well our life of witness in one of his letters to the church: “In your hearts sanctify Christ as Lord. Always be ready to make your defense to anyone who demands from you an accounting for the hope that is in you; yet do it with gentleness and reverence. Keep your conscience clear, so that, when you are maligned, those who abuse you for your good conduct in Christ may be put to shame” (1 Peter 3:15-16).

You don’t need to stand with a megaphone outside a busy coffee shop, haranguing about the evils in society and how all the coffee drinkers on the patio were causing the deaths of innocent souls. (I saw someone doing that on Saturday of Easter weekend, and he was not winning any converts for Christ by his methods.) Your witness for Christ comes from who you are in your daily life and how you speak with others in your daily life. When it is evident that you are warm and caring, that you are alive and eager, that you are full of hope and active in love, people will be drawn to you as a living witness for Christ, and you will have opportunities to speak with them of your faith in Christ. As Jesus himself urged us, everyone will know that we are his disciples by our love (cf. John 13:35).

We have our fears–and plenty of them. Things that cause fear and alarm keep coming at us relentlessly. Inevitably, in this world, we will have trouble. But we take courage in Jesus, who has overcome this world and its trouble (cf. John 16:33). We have life through Jesus and his power over death. Even when sick and ailing, even in the midst of fears and problems, even when facing death itself, we are alive through Jesus. That is our living hope (1 Peter 1:3), our constant way of being because of Jesus. And that will always be our strongest witness to the world–that we exude joy and hope and peace that rest in knowing Jesus. We are “convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:38-39, nor from the life that we have now and eternally with him.

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Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Image credit: Newness of Life by listentothemountains on Flickr, Creative Commons License

Nov

2020

The King who Inscribes his Character on Us

A message for Christ the King Sunday

Our King does not dominate or dictate
Our King invigorates us to be like him

There are a number of churches around the world named “Christ the King.” The Cathedral of Christ the King in Mullingar, Ireland, is reportedly the first church given that name. The Cathedral of Christ the King in Atlanta is one of the ten largest congregations in the United States. Those are just a couple of the big Christ the King churches. There are numerous smaller congregations too.

I don’t know of any churches named “Christ the Tyrant” or “Christ the Despot” or “Christ the Dictator.” I Google-searched for such names, but couldn’t find any. I did find an opinion piece arguing that Christians tend to view their Lord that way–as a benevolent dictator. But if there are people of faith who take that view, they’re mistaken. Christ the King is certainly not like some military strongman or arbitrary emperor, nor even like a benevolent dictator. Christ is not someone who looks upon us as weak subjects who do his bidding simply to suit his whims. Christ did not become our king by standing above us, pointing out what we must do from moment to moment. Christ became our king by standing with us, among us, leading us in a path we could not have followed without his leadership. Jesus said to those who followed him, “I am among you as one who serves” (Luke 22:27). On the night he said that, Jesus proved his point by getting down on the floor and washing his disciples’ feet (cf. John 13).

Quite clearly, Jesus is the opposite of a tyrant. He won our allegiance by going into battle against tyrants and overlords for us. The tyrant was sin. The tyrant was the devil who accuses and all the demons that torment us. Those are the sorts of rulers that dictate and demand, that control us by fear and guilt. Christ is not like that.

Jesus is also much different from even the most benevolent dictator. Such a ruler believes that he must decide all things for the people underneath him because they are underlings and he is so much above them. Now, it is true that Christ, our King, certainly does know what is best for us. Christ is “the wisdom of God” (1 Corinthians 1:24). As high as the heavens are above the earth, so far are his thoughts higher than our thoughts (cf. Isaiah 55:9). But the fact that Christ is superior to us in all things does not mean he deals with us as inferiors. Rather, he comes alongside us and shares his life and strength with us. He invigorates us with his words, his Spirit, so that we become alive in him. We become more and more like him as we grow in our relationship with him.

I have known God-fearing people who haven’t understood this, who haven’t grasped how Christ is seeking to lead them. They trouble themselves over every detail of their lives, searching desperately for some sort of sign from God. “What is God’s will?” they’ll say; “What does God want me to do?” I knew a woman who struggled over the smallest decisions like that. She begged to know what actions God wanted her to take, almost hoping a daily to-do list would appear like handwriting on the wall, so she’d know she wasn’t making any mistakes. In her anxiousness, she once put two pens side by side on the table and asked, “Now, which pen does God want me to use? The blue one or the black one?” That’s going too far in expecting God to direct our lives. Yes, Christ is our leader by night and by day. But Jesus leads us not as though we are blindfolded and he must guide our feet for every step we take. He instills his character and his way of life in us, so that we make our own decisions as the new persons that we are in Christ (cf. 2 Corinthians 5:17). It’s an outmoded way, a childish way, to want God to dictate every direction to us, to tell us exactly what to do in every instant. It’s a new way of life, as we become mature in Christ, that we make our own decisions and take actions that flow from the mind of Christ which is in us (cf. 1 Corinthians 2:16).

Consider the Epistle assigned for this weekend for the festival of Christ the King. The prayer for the Christians at Ephesus remains an apostlic prayer for us today. Notice the emphasis on how the power of Christ works in us and inspires us as he extends his kingdom into our hearts.

I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you … and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe, according to the working of his great power. God put this power to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion …. And he has put all things under his feet and has made him the head over all things for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all (Ephesians 1:17-23).

Christ as king is head over all things for us. That’s not an image of some giant head floating in the air like the Great and Powerful Oz. There’s no false pretense of power with Christ our King. He rules in a way far better than the way any authority in this world operates. Even while Christ is seated high above in the heavenly places, he is at the same time intimately connected to us, like the head to members of the body. His thoughts pulse through us and we operate in unity with him. We are his feet to run out into the world, his hands to extend help and care to persons in his name, to put into practice his love.

Consider also the description of what Christ will find when he returns at the end of time, when he “comes in his glory, and all the angels with him” and “all the nations will be gathered before him” (Matthew 25:31-42). Who are the people he calls his own, who truly have known him?

The king will say to those at his right hand, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me” (Matthew 25:34-36).

When Christ says this to his people, what is their reaction? “When did we do that?” They wonder what he’s talking about. Christ’s people do such actions on behalf of “the least of these” fellow members of the human family not because they’re keeping score of their good deeds, not because they’re trying to impress God by their actions. They do such things just because that’s who they are, because the spirit of Christ inhabits them and propels them into action. The people of Christ’s kingdom serve everyone they encounter without thinking, “This is something I must do because the king has issued an executive order.” Yes, the kingdom of Christ has laws, but those laws are designed by our Lord for our good and the good of our neighbors. As we grow in our understanding and relationship with our King, we embody more and more the spirit and compassion and action that he has for all who are in need. We become Christ to our neighbors.

Our life as Christ’s people, in his service, is not like serving an earthly ruler who dominates and bullies to get his way, and whose subjects survive by trying to ingratiate themselves with the ruler. We serve as people whose character has been transformed by the grace and goodness of our king. We become his allies in extending the life of his kingdom into a world that has not understood him and operates by principles so often opposite to his.

Which leads to one final point that must be mentioned. We need to take notice of the other sort of approach that predominates in this world. It is an approach not only by the rich and powerful, who lord it over others in positions of power and authority. It’s also an approach adopted by people in general toward authority — including God’s authority. It may work with the powers that be in this world, but it doesn’t work with God. In the Gospel reading for today, did you notice how those who are on the wrong side of Christ respond when Christ says they did not do the things that people of his kingdom do? They say, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you” (Matthew 25:44)? And he will answer them, “Just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me” (Matthew 25:45). They thought they had done good things.They thought of themselves as good people. They expected God should be pleased with them, because they had minded their own business and stayed out of trouble. They may even think they had done great undertakings for the King, that they would have an elevated position in his kingdom because of high-powered things that they did. Jesus described such persons in his Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 7:21-23):

Not everyone who says to me, “Lord, Lord,” will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father in heaven. On that day many will say to me, “Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many deeds of power in your name?” Then I will declare to them, “I never knew you; go away from me, you evildoers.”

Too often people have the wrong idea, thinking Jesus owes it to everybody to be nice to them. And they also think that if they go out of their way to do things they think God wants, that then they are entitled to extra rewards, sort of like people may think their donations or efforts on behalf of some political leader entitle them to perks and privileges in that person’s administration. But Christ our King doesn’t operate by those principles. Christ calls his people to follow him, not worldly “philosophy and empty deceit” or “human tradition” (Colossians 2:9). We are called to follow the truth according to Christ, whose kingdom is not of this world (cf. John 18:36). So let’s not be confused. Let’s not slip back into worldly thinking, into tallying up our good deeds as though keeping a scoresheet will impress Christ the King, or boasting about where we think we stand with God or how right or righteous we are. Being servants of Christ’s kingdom means setting ourselves aside and simply serving others. Christ established his kingdom by laying down his life for those whom he loved and came to serve. As servants of Christ the King, we carry on in his kingdom and extend his kingdom in the same way. We deny ourselves. We take up whatever crosses we may be asked to carry, and we do all we can to help others carry their crosses too (cf. Luke 29:23-25). As the word of our King tells us, “Bear one another’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ (Galatians 6:2). That’s how we serve–and whom we serve–as the people of Christ the King.

Jan

2020

A parent’s prayer for a graduate

Originally published on The Electric Gospel on May 29, 2018

A Parent’s Prayer for a Graduate

by David Sellnow

Thinking of you, my child, and the fact that you’ve finished college, I have much in mind that I lay before the Lord in prayer. I hope you won’t mind that these thoughts ramble in no particular order as I write them for you to read and heaven to hear. I know the Spirit above doesn’t mind, because “the Spirit himself makes intercession for us with groanings which can’t be uttered” (Romans 8:26).

I pray you will hang onto Jesus, to anchor your soul in the firmness of his life and truth, and to lift you up in hope each day. When I pray that you hang onto Jesus, I’m not thinking so much of the formalness of this or that church—though church and formalness can be good spiritual disciplines. My primary prayer is that your heart remains connected to Jesus like a branch growing from a vine. Jesus pictured it that way: “As the branch can’t bear fruit by itself unless it remains in the vine, so neither can you, unless you remain in me. I am the vine. You are the branches” (John 15:4,5).

I pray you will hang onto memories—not only of college years but also of childhood. Relish and treasure the good things you’ve experienced, the laughs, the joys, the interesting happenings. Remember times of blessing with family and friends. But also remember the struggles, the challenges, the mistakes. Don’t dwell on them in regret, but learn and grow from them as you take your past and present self into the future.

In that vein, I pray you will see success as an inner, spiritual quality more than as a financial quantity or as a résumé of accomplishments. You may never win a Nobel Prize or a Tony Award or any noteworthy prizes or awards. But being an everyday person in an everyday life is okay also. And you may not make millions or even tens of thousands, but if you have enough to survive, and you maintain integrity in your heart, that is enough. A person’s life “doesn’t consist of the abundance of the things which he possesses” (Luke 12:15). Do your best to succeed where you are, in whatever you are doing, remembering that the truest reward is richness of the soul, being filled with a love and eagerness for those around you.I pray that the path you have chosen for your career will be a blessing to you, and that you will always find satisfying work in your field. But if it happens anywhere along the line that you have to accept a position other than your ideal, I pray that you’ll be able to make the best of that too. The great apostle Paul sometimes needed to support himself by making tents. Sometimes you do what is needed rather than what is desired. Through it all, preserve your character and resolve. “Better is a little with righteousness, than great revenues with injustice” (Proverbs 16:8).

I pray you will network well, connecting with people. That isn’t always easy, because people and relationships can be challenging. An existential philosopher, in a famous line from a play, said: “Hell is other people.” It’s easy to feel the way he felt. But at the same time, we need other people. We need networks—and not just the social media kind that exist online. No person is an island. And even if some were islands, islands need connections to other places in order to meet their needs and access opportunities. I pray that you’ll get along with others in your career and community in beneficial ways. “If it is possible, as much as it is up to you, be at peace with all men” (Romans 12:18).

I also pray that as far as you yourself are concerned, you will be comfortable being who you are, where you are, and how you are in life. Don’t let yourself worry whether you fit in with others or line up with expectations others may have. Life doesn’t need to be a game of keeping up with the Joneses or the Kardashians or whomever else. Allow yourself plenty of leeway for finding your own way. Accept that there will be changes in plans, redirections and do-overs. Remember that you are unique, that you are God’s workmanship, and he has prepared in advance many good things for you to do (cf. Ephesians 2:10). In whatever direction you go, go with confidence in yourself and in the Father above, who cares for you.

I pray you will do better in life than us, your parents. I don’t mean that necessarily in financial or career terms, though that would be nice too. Mostly I mean for you to have happiness, stability, and contentedness to a greater degree than we have evidenced. Though we’ve tried to devote ourselves to you in love and leadership, parents are never perfect examples. For the best sort of leadership, always look toward the Lord himself. “Be therefore imitators of God, as beloved children. Walk in love, even as Christ also loved us and gave himself up for us” (Ephesians 5:1,2).

I pray you will be honest with yourself and with others. I know, I know, I haven’t always been that way myself. I’ve put up false fronts in public and said other things in private. But in the end, that only leads to internal and external conflict. Better to be the way that Jesus described Nathanael, when choosing him as a disciple: “Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom is no deceit” (John 1:47).

I pray you will remain a positive force for good in the world, even when this world seems to have little that is good and positive in it. When you look around and see perpetual crises and conflicts, refugees forced to flee their homes and lands, children growing up in poverty and hunger, and all the other woes of this world, it’s easy to give up on making the world a better place. But remember that the same Bible that prophesied there will always be “wars and rumors of war” (Matthew 24:6), and that “you always have the poor with you” (Matthew 26:11), also said to us: “As we have opportunity, let’s do what is good toward all men” (Galatians 6:10), and urged us to offer “petitions, prayers, intercessions, and givings of thanks” for everyone around us (1 Timothy 2:1). Keep striving to do what you can in your own little corner of the world to make an impact there, even when it’s hard to see much change occurring in the wider world beyond you. Don’t give up on being someone who loves your neighbor, even when the wider neighborhood of the world seems not to notice or care.

I pray you won’t be surprised or devastated when trouble comes along, when plans get derailed, when obstacles block your path. In this world we will have trouble, Jesus said (cf. John 16:33). So if you do encounter painful difficulties, don’t despair. Not all of life will be rosy, and even when there are roses, they always come with thorns attached. So hang onto hope though thick and thin. Endure hardship when it happens, be disciplined by it, grow stronger from it. “All chastening seems for the present to be not joyous but grievous; yet afterward it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it” (Hebrews 12:11).

I pray you will savor and be strengthened by the simple pleasures you can find in life—a refreshing beverage, a relaxing evening at home, a walk in the park. I hope too that your life may have its fill of exciting moments and bigger adventures. But when you can’t get away for exotic vacations or extensive travels, I pray you’ll be able also just to appreciate the life that you have, wherever it may be. Just say, “Feed me with the food that is needful for me” (Proverbs 30:8) – that is enough.

Finally, I pray you will remember where home is. You are all grown up and away from us now. But we remain your parents always, and maintain concern for you constantly. You still may need us for advice, for reassurance of love, or just for a hug or a chat. Don’t stay away from home or off the phone from us for too long at a time. And even if you are at a point where you don’t need much from us, we very much need you and yearn to see you and hear from you. So don’t forget dear old mom and dad. As the Bible urges, “Listen to your father who gave you life, and don’t despise your mother when she is old” (Proverbs 23:22). You are our most precious treasure on this earth, and we are always praying for you!

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Just released on Kindle Direct Publishing: Faith Lives in Our Actions: God’s Message in James Chapter 2. Get the eBook for your Kindle, or you can download the free Kindle app to read on any device.

Jan

2020

Let your light shine

Originally published on the Electric Gospel on January 28, 2018.

Shining like the brightness of the heavens

by Sheryl Persaud

“In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:16).

Have you ever been in a church with stained glass windows on a sunny day? It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Light passes through the windows in colorful, detailed patterns. And often, stained glass windows are not merely patterns of color, but persons and events from the Bible are illustrated in the glass. The windows shine in ways that tell stories of faith.

Think about the time and preparation it takes to make a stained glass window. First, you will need to decide what design you want to make. Then you’d choose each color and shape carefully in order to make that design. At first, it is just a mess of broken glass, but when you arrange the pieces together into the story or symbol you wish to convey, you have a beautiful masterpiece.

As God’s people, we are like stained glass windows. God sees the beautiful plan and design he has for us. We cannot see this plan because sometimes our life is like a big, messy pile of broken glass. We may also feel the pains of broken glass. There may be so many trials we are facing in our lives that we don’t think anything good can come from it. However, God looks at each broken piece and he sees art. He sees how each broken piece will fit together perfectly. He needs us to be patient, in the same way an artist exercises patience as he is creating his art. We wait to see and understand God’s master plan for us. At times we may want to give up, but we hang on in trust that our Savior is working in our best interest.

When a stained glass window finally goes up and the sunlight shines through, all you can do is step back, admire it, and praise the person who created it. We want God’s Word to shine through us and those we come into contact with. We are able to shine a light to others because Christ has put a light into us first. He did this through his death on the cross, that we may become shining pillars reflecting his love and mercy, bright enough for all to see. How awesome it would be to show others the wonders of our awesome creator! We become a fulfillment of what God foretold: “Those who are wise will shine like the brightness of the heavens, and those who lead many to righteousness, like the stars for ever and ever” (Daniel 12:3).

Just as sunlight shines through and illuminates figures in stained glass windows, we glow beautifully when God’s Word shines through us.

Prayer: Dear God, give us the courage to put our full trust in your plans for us. Help us to be illuminated by your light, reflecting Christ’s love and grace in all we say and do. Amen.

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Shining like the brightness of the heavens

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