healing

Dec

2023

The Sun of Righteousness is Rising

An Advent Promise—and Warning

Bible text for this devotion: Malachi 4:1-6

The Sun of Righteousness is Rising

by David Sellnow

In 1969, John Fogerty of Creedence Clearwater Revival (CCR) wrote a song called Bad Moon Rising. “I see the bad moon arising, I see trouble on the way”—that was the opening lyric. The song had a very end-times theme. One stanza said:

I hear hurricanes a-blowin’
I know the end is comin’ soon
I fear rivers overflowin’
I hear the voice of rage and ruin.

Fogerty himself said the song is about “the apocalypse that was going to be visited upon us”—but at the same time wrote it with “a happy-sounding tune.” I thought of that song as I was reading the prophecy from Malachi. The prophet spoke of a time that is like a bad moon rising for many people, but like a glorious sunrise for others. “The sun of righteousness shall rise,” Malachi wrote (4:1), bringing healing, light, and warmth for those who revere God’s name. At the same time, it will burn the arrogant and evildoers.

If you had a Bible in your hand and opened it to find the book of Malachi, you’d get a good idea of what new horizon he had in mind. It is the New Testament—the coming of the day of Jesus Christ. The words of Malachi chapter 4 are the last words in the Old Testament. You flip the page and you’re in the New Testament. The first New Testament book, Matthew, begins with “an account of the genealogy of Jesus the Messiah” (Matthew 1:1) and then explains how “the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place” (Matthew 1:18). That’s a 400-year flip as you flip that one page. Malachi’s writing was the last prophetic word from God for at least 400 years before Jesus Christ arrived on the scene. The next prophet from God would not come until immediately before Jesus. Then, an angel announced the birth of a child to be named John. Echoing the words of Malachi, the angel said, “He will turn many of the people of Israel to the Lord their God. With the spirit and power of Elijah” he would “turn the hearts of parents to their children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous, to make ready a people prepared for the Lord” (Luke 1:13-17). That child would become the preacher known to us as John the Baptist.

In the new day as prophesied by Malachi, and introduced by John the Baptist, “the sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings” for all who revere the name of the Lord (Malachi 4:2). “Revere” is an attempt to translate the ancient Hebrew word יָרֵא (yah-ra), for which we have no one-word equivalent in English. It is to fear the name of the Lord, to stand in awe of him, to be amazed at him, respect him, trust him, rely on him, worship him. Those who revere God, who know his saving name and his saving deeds, anticipate his arrival with hope. When the Lord enters our world, his coming is an answer to prayers, a day of salvation. He brings righteousness as a gift, forgiving our sins and supplying us with goodness. The day of the Lord is like bright and warm sunshine, bringing a fresh new morning. Think of the warmth and joy we feel when we celebrate Christmas: Jesus came to be our righteousness, to bring us peace with God. This dawning of the new, bright sunshiny day in Christ is the kind of thing that makes you go out and leap like young calves released from the stall, as Malachi described it (4:2). You jump for joy. You bask in the sunlight. Your spirit rejoices in God your Savior (cf. Luke 1:47). Sin and death and all that opposes the way of grace and faith in Christ “will be ashes under the soles of your feet, on the day when I act, says the Lord of hosts” (Malachi 4:3). God promises that all the evil which troubles us is overcome by the coming of the Christ. Both when Jesus came to this world the first time, and when he comes again, the triumph of life that is in him is made evident.

Having said that, it also must be said that the day of the Lord does not make everyone happy. Many do not revere God‘s name and do not welcome him. Their hopes are in themselves, not in the Lord. Some think they are perfectly healthy without God and feel no need for spiritual healing. Some have usurped religious authority for themselves and imposed rules that “lock people out of the kingdom of heaven” because they get wrapped up in legalisms and neglect “justice and mercy and faith” (Matthew 23:13,23). Those attitudes the Lord calls arrogance. There also are persons who do immoral deeds in darkness. They don’t want any sunlight exposing their shame. The things they do are things God calls evil. According to Malachi, for the arrogant and the evildoers, the shining of God‘s light is like scorching desert heat that burns. God’s announcement of a rising sun of righteousness is like a bad moon rising for them. The same righteousness of God that provides a refuge for those who trust in him is a burning scourge on those who trust their own righteousness or try to hide their own guilt. God’s blazing glory turns to dust everything that is not cleansed by forgiveness through faith. “All the arrogant and all evildoers will be stubble,” Malachi warned (4:1).

So we see that the day of the Lord is a great joy for those who put their trust in the Lord by faith. It is a dreadful day for those who do not, whose hearts fight against God. We might well bear in mind that either of those descriptions may describe each of us at times. We are not always faithful. We have the same human tendencies as all human beings, wanting the opposite of what the Lord wants for us, thinking we know better than him. Malachi spoke to our consciences. “Remember the teaching of my servant Moses,” he said (Malachi 4:4). No one who keeps in mind God‘s laws to Moses can pretend they are righteous on their own or hide the fact that they sin. What does the law of Moses say? “Love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your might” (Deuteronomy 6:5) “Walk in all his ways” (Deuteronomy 10:12). “Have no other gods” (Exodus 20:3)—nothing that comes ahead of the Lord in your life. Be holy. Do not steal. Do not lie. Do not deceive one another. Do not pervert justice. Judge your neighbor fairly. Do not go about spreading slander. Do not hate your brother in your heart. Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge. Love your neighbor as yourself (Leviticus, chapter 19). Just listening to those laws is painful, because we know we fall far short of godly ideals. We are not righteous. We are sinful. Malachi’s warning keeps us from getting too puffed up about ourselves.

So did the warnings of the prophet who came after Malachi, a voice like that of Elijah of old. John the Baptist was like a second Elijah, speaking for God. He declared: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near” (Matthew 3:2). John the Baptist scolded those who were proud of themselves and their heritage, but were arrogant and lacked the humility of faith. “Do not begin to say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham as our ancestor,’” John told them. “For I tell you, God is able from these stones to raise up children to Abraham” (Luke 3:8). Being descendants of a religious forefather was not a ticket into heaven for them. Without faith in the Messiah themselves, they were destined to be cut down and thrown into the fire (Luke 3:9). That was John’s message to the arrogant and evildoers.

Strong prophetic warnings always aimed at shaking people out of their self-righteousness and sinfulness and turning their hearts back to the Lord. While the ministry of God’s prophets shouted out warnings, they also soothed with promises. Malachi told of healing sunshine, rays of hope for people who trusted in God. And John “proclaimed the good news to the people” (Luke 3:18). He pointed to Jesus and said, “Here is the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29). John’s ministry turned the hearts of parents to their children and the hearts of children to their parents, keeping individuals and families focused on faith and hope and love (cf. Malachi 4:6). The curse of the law would be removed by the Messiah, Jesus (cf. Galatians 3:13-14). The sunshine of God’s love, the gift of his goodness, have come to us in the person of Jesus Christ.

We are living in the Day of the Lord, my friends. His presence never departs from us. It is AD 2023. We refer to our years as AD: Anno Domini—in the year of the Lord. The ancients who set up our calendar declared every year from the time of Christ’s arrival to be “The year of our Lord.” The Lord has come. The Lord will come again. Blessed be the name of the Lord, and blessed are all those who continue to put their trust in him. Let us continue to put our trust in him, and so be ready for the day he comes again.

Christmas gift idea: Sermons on Selected Psalms, available at Amazon.com:

Sermons on Selected Psalms: Sellnow, David: 9798402872462: Amazon.com: Books

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).

Jan

2022

Hidden in Plain Sight

The Quiet Power of God’s Presence

Thoughts for Epiphany (January 6) and for the Baptism of our Lord (Sunday after Epiphany)
David Sellnow

They say that heaven is 10 zillion light years away
But if there is a God, we need him now
“Where is your God”
That’s what my friends ask me
And I say it’s taken him so long
‘Cause we’ve got so far to come

-Stevie Wonder, “Heaven is 10 Zillion Light Years Away,” Fulfillingness’ First Finale (Tamla, 1974)

Some of you might recognize those lyrics from a Stevie Wonder song from 1974. It was the case then–and remains the case always–that human eyes look for evidence of God’s presence in big, obvious ways. We think that if our lives are overflowing with an abundance of wealth and good health, that’s when God is with us. When times are hard, we assume we’ve been abandoned and God isn’t there. There are problems with this point of view. For one thing, having riches and success rarely indicates how close to God a person is. In fact, many powerful, successful persons often achieve such glories by godlessness–not by prioritizing kindness and walking humbly in the ways of God (cf. Micah 6:8). Another thing: The testimony of Scripture shows that God never abandons those who trust in his name, and he is especially with us in the experiences that challenge our faith in him.

Think of Job, who lost all his wealth and lost loved ones and cried out wondering where God was. God knew everything and was, in fact, striving to connect Job’s heart even closer to his own.
Think of the parables Jesus told. It was not the well-to-do Pharisee who was right with God as he bragged proudly of how much he’d done. The social pariah, the tax collector, who prayed, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner” (Luke 9:13)–that’s who Jesus said was exalted in God’s eyes.
It was not the rich man “dressed in purple and fine linen … who feasted sumptuously every day” that ascended into heaven on the day he died (Luke 18:19-31). The beggar who sat in the street outside the rich man’s home, whose only friends were stray dogs that licked his open sores–that’s the person Jesus said was blessed.

When we look at the world through our usual human perspective, we don’t see God in action in the obvious ways we want to see.

The way we see things and the way things really often are out of alignment. As we go about our lives, we focus on physical, material, tangible things that can easily be measured. We are not attuned to sensing spiritual realities–the ways that in God “we live and move and have our being” (Acts 17:28). Psychologists have noticed something called “inattentional blindness” in how we interpret the world. Rather than noticing each detail around us, we tend to concentrate on the things most important to us. We see things in the context of existing mental frameworks that we have adopted (Kendra Cherry, “Inattentional Blindness in Psychology, VeryWellMind, 5/4/2020). If you’ll allow me to apply that principle in a broader way, our earthbound primary focus notices the flow of what’s happening outwardly in our lives, and we miss many details of what God is doing in and through and underneath those events. While “no one has ever seen God” (John 1:18), the hand of God is evident in things that can be seen. “Ever since the creation of the world, God’s eternal power and divine nature, invisible though they are, have been understood and seen through the things he has made” (Romans 1:20). But we tend not to look past outward appearances, and so we miss seeing important truths. “Focusing our attention on one thing can cause us to overlook another” even if the other is right in front of us. (Daniel Nevers, “A Brief History of Hiding in Plain Sight, Mills College Art Museum, 2019). That’s how we tend to be with the manifestations of God that are given to us. God shows himself, but human beings mostly fail to pay attention to these evidences of God. Spiritual realities escape our notice, hidden in plain sight all around us.

Think about the ways God made himself known when Jesus Christ came into our world. There were clear manifestations of the miracle of redemption God was bringing about, but most people’s attention was aimed in other directions. When God chooses to make his presence seen and known, he often does so in what seem like insignificant ways.

When Jesus was born, he arrived in one of the world’s least significant places, the little town of Bethlehem. The King of kings might be expected to be found in a palace, at the center of politics and power. Yet when astronomers from an eastern land came looking for him in Jerusalem, the king in Jerusalem had to consult Jewish religious scholars to ask where the Messiah was to be born (Matthew 2:4).
The woman who had given birth to Jesus was no one of fame or acclaim. She and Joseph, the legal father of the virgin-born child Jesus, both were “descended from the house and family line of David” (Luke 2:4), but otherwise they were pretty much nobodies. Joseph was a carpenter (Matthew 13:55). Mary was his teenage wife, who herself said the Lord had “looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant” when choosing her to bear the Christ child in her womb (Luke 1:48).
When Jesus was anointed to begin his work as Teacher and Savior, there was no grand national ceremony with parades and dignitaries. Rather, John, a cousin of Jesus, served as the prophet to point to Jesus as the Messiah. John lived in the wilderness by the Jordan River, wearing clothing of camel’s hair and subsisting on a diet of locusts and wild honey (Matthew 3:4). John proclaimed “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins” (Mark 1:4), and people did come to be baptized. Then Jesus requested that John baptize him also–“to fulfill all righteousness,” as Jesus insisted (Matthew 3:15). At Jesus’ baptism, “the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased’” (Luke 3:22). But I wonder if most people who were there when that happened heard and saw things differently. “Look at that, a dove just landed on him,” I imagine many said, not understanding the spiritual significance. And, as happened on another occasion when the Father spoke audibly from heaven, rather than hearing the words “This is my Son, the Beloved,” the crowd standing there may well have thought, “Was that thunder?” (cf. John 12:28-29).

Our eyes and ears aren’t attuned in such a way that we grasp the workings of God, even when they happen right in front of us. Think of baptism itself, the holy act by which God claims us as his own. What do we see? Ordinary water, nothing special. A few simple words, as we are baptized into “the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” (Matthew 28:19). When we have our baptisms, there is no dove that miraculously appears or audible voice speaking from the skies. But with eyes of faith, we confess that “baptism is not simply plain water,” but that “it is water used according to God’s command and connected with God’s word.” We believe beyond what we can see, that baptism “brings about forgiveness of sins, redeems from death and the devil, and gives eternal salvation to all who believe” (Martin Luther’s Small Catechism). So also with communion, the Lord’s Supper. We eat and drink the most basic sorts of things – little bits of bread, small sips of wine. But because such simple actions were directed by Christ himself, whoever believes his words “has what they declare, namely, forgiveness of sin” (Martin Luther’s Small Catechism).

Such is God’s way of making himself known to us, his way of connecting himself to us, of doing the miraculous for us. It’s not typically in the spectacular, but in things that seem everyday and ordinary. Do you remember Naaman, “commander of the army of the king of Aram, a great man and in high favor”–but who suffered from the disease of leprosy (2 Kings 5:1)? Naaman had a slave girl who had been captured from the people of Israel. The slave girl urged her master Naaman to go see the prophet in Israel for healing. Naaman went to Israel, and the prophet Elisha merely sent a messenger to tell him to go wash in the Jordan River seven times and he’d be healed (2 Kings 5:10). Naaman became angry and began to leave, because he was expecting some great and mighty prophet to “come out and stand and call on the name of the Lord” and wave his hand over Naaman in dramatic fashion and cure the disease (2 Kings 5:11). Naaman had to be convinced by others of his servants, who said to him, “If the prophet had commanded you to do something difficult, would you not have done it” (2 Kings 5:13)? So, Naaman did the simple thing the prophet had said, and he was healed.

That’s how it often is with God. As Elisha’s teacher, Elijah, had learned, don’t expect God to show up by splitting mountains in half or shaking the earth beneath our feet. God more likely will make his presence known in what Elijah heard as the “sound of sheer silence” (1 Kings 19:12), or “a still, small voice,” as the King James Version of the Bible expressed it. Every day, in all sorts of seemingly ordinary ways, God makes his presence known and shares his grace by the life and witness of people who are acting in his name.

There is the son who visits his elderly mother every weekend, spends time with her, takes care of chores around the house for her, cooks a meal for her. And when she has to go to a nursing home, the son continues to visit, even as his mother becomes more confined, her health diminishes, and her memory fades away.
There is the mother whose toddler is throwing a tantrum and cannot calm down, so she sits down on the floor and gathers the child in her arms and just holds on, closely, securely, through all the kicks and screams, until the toddler finally melts into her embrace and hugs her back and says, “I’m sorry, Momma. I love you, Momma.”
There is the student who sees a schoolmate being picked on by others, avoided and ostracized and gossiped about for being different–and this classmate seeks out and befriends the outcast. They sit together in the cafeteria, spend time together studying and not studying (just hanging out), making it clear to everyone that acceptance and understanding are better than prejudice and pettiness.

Those could be just human actions of kindness, yes. In many cases, though, they are far more than that. They are the acts of God’s people making God’s love known in the ordinary course of events, doing things that are, in fact, extraordinary. God is working to make himself known to others through you–ordinary people in your everyday lives. Nothing spectacular. Nothing dazzling. Just you laboring patiently to serve your family, your neighbors, your community. Just you loving earnestly and committedly, caring for others with hearts that have been invigorated by the Spirit of Christ. That’s your calling as God’s people. God says to each of you, “I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. … You are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you” (Isaiah 43:1,4). He also says, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior” (Isaiah 43:2). How does that help, that strength, that rescue from the Lord usually show up in your lives when you are hurting or in trouble? Through the actions of people doing simple things, basic, necessary things, in God’s name. The neighbor who shovels your sidewalk or snowblows your driveway–because he knows you are away from home, caring for a sick relative. Fellow church members who take turns dropping off meals at your home–because you are the caregiver for a disabled family member or for your spouse who is going through chemotherapy, and they want to help bear your burdens. Complete strangers who contribute to an online plea for funds to help with extensive medical bills incurred from a major surgery or a lengthy stay in the hospital ICU recovering from disease.

Every now and then, God has intervened in history with supernatural interruptions of natural events. But more often, God does his work through us, his people, in less astonishing ways. Let me remind you again of the experience of God’s prophet Elijah. Elijah had the experience of God making his presence obvious and forceful and explosive. Elijah prevailed over the enemies of God by calling on God to do a miracle, to consume a sacrifice with fire sent from heaven. And God did so, spectacularly. “The fire of the Lord fell and consumed the burnt offering, the wood, the stones, and the dust, and even licked up the water that was in the trench” around Elijah’s offering (1 Kings 18:38). But the perspective of the world doesn’t readily change when a miracle like that happens. In fact, the enemies of God (and of Elijah) only got more determined against God’s plans and against God’s prophet. Death threats were issued from the royal household against Elijah, and he ran. He ran back to the mountain where God had once revealed himself to Moses, and felt ready to die. “I’ve had enough,” he said to God. “Take away my life” (1 Kings 19:4). Instead, God told him to get up and he would reveal himself to Elijah. God did show himself, but not in expected ways. Not in a mighty, raging wind. Not in a rock-smashing earthquake. God revealed himself In a still, small voice, in the “sound of sheer silence” (I kings 19).

God’s powerful presence is often in the still, small voice–a voice carried out into the world by individuals, one at a time, by people like Elijah, by people like you and me. God’s way of enacting change in the hearts of people, one person at a time, is by the simple testimony of his words on our lips and his love lived out in our lives. He brings about the miracle of salvation by one baptism, then another baptism, then another, sending his Spirit to live in each baptized person’s heart and life. He carries out the actions of salvation in our hearts and lives, as we who have been saved by grace through faith, “created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life” (Ephesians 3:10), go about doing those works on behalf of one another, and for our neighbors, and for our communities.

When you feel like God is 10 zillion light years away, like God is so far distant from your life that you wonder if he’s even there at all, look again. Listen again. Feel again. Take notice of the little things, the inconspicuous ways that God is showing himself. Others’ actions. Your own actions. All the everyday words and actions whereby God makes his presence known and shares his peace among us. The smallest of kind words and actions toward one of the least of those whom Jesus considers his brothers and sisters are gifts to Jesus and blessings from Jesus (cf. Matthew 25:40). As Martin Luther taught, “God is so in control that the good we do is really God’s work. We’re nothing but the hands of Christ …. In the good we do, we are ‘little Christs’ to each other” (Luther’s Works, Vol.34, p.111, Volu.24, p.226, Vol. 31, p.367-368, quoted by Mark Ellingson in Living Lutheran, August 11, 2017). May our lives each day appreciate and extend the Epiphany of Christ in this way.

Dec

2021

Living in hope (though life is difficult)

We wait for the Lord — hopefully, patiently, responsibly

Message for 3rd Sunday of Advent
by David Sellnow

Readings for the day: Zephaniah 3:14-20, Philippians 4:4-7, Luke 3:7-18

Stephanie grew up under the weight of demanding, overbearing parents. Their way was always the right way, and their children were going to toe the line and become obedient, upstanding, model citizens. Stephanie’s older sister fit the model perfectly. At the strict religious school their parents enrolled them in, Stephanie’s sister got all A’s and was considered the impeccable child. Stephanie lived in her sister’s shadow, got mostly C’s, and was seen as far less than ideal. Later in life, Stephanie gave up on church, because the sternness of the church in which she was raised made her feel that who she was and how she was always was wrong. Her parents were mortified when she stopped going to church, and they distanced themselves more and more from her. Stephanie lived her life, but she lived with a sense of shame, felt like an outcast from her family, and was haunted by a lingering sense of judgment looming over her.

Derrick had labored diligently year after year. He always had a job, sometimes a couple of jobs at a time. He would do whatever he could to keep shoes on his kids’ feet and food on the table. He didn’t give a lot of attention to his own needs, because he was too busy taking care of the needs of others. If he could do that, he was happy. Then one day, the manufacturing plant where Derrick worked shut down. He found himself out of work for the first time in his life. The town where he lived with his family was shrinking. Derrick was in his mid-50s. Finding a new job was no easy task. The bills began to pile up while Derrick kept applying for any and every position (but not getting hired). He told employers in the bigger city 40 miles away that he could commute. They looked at him skeptically when he got as far as getting an interview … and that’s as far as he ever got, it seemed. Derrick began to feel worthless to anyone and a failure to his family. When he started feeling fatigued and worn down physically, he figured it was all part of how generally low he was feeling. But the physical symptoms got worse and worse. He wouldn’t go to the doctor because he no longer had insurance. He eventually did go to the emergency room–when his wife, who had struggled by his side during the difficult months, found him collapsed on the floor and had to call an ambulance. Derrick’s life had gone from stability to disaster in a short span of time. He needed help. He needed health. He needed to find hope again somehow.

Those are just a couple of stories of shame, of judgment, of disability, of disaster. What is your story? What is your shame? What makes you feel weak and lame and hopeless and helpless? What are the judgments against you that make you feel like an outcast? What difficulties and disasters have you encountered? I’m not asking you to give those testimonials here in comments/replies to this blog post. I anticipate, though, that each of you has had (or now has or will have) tales you could tell of troubles and worries and woes. What do you do in the midst of your hurts and hardships and upheavals? Where do you turn?

Listen to the voice of a prophet calling out to you, telling you where to turn. Inspired by the Lord, Zephaniah said:

The Lord has taken away the judgments against you; he has turned away your enemies. … You shall fear disaster no more. … Do not let your hands grow weak. The Lord, your God, is in your midst. … He will rejoice over you with gladness, he will renew you in his love. “I will remove disaster from you, so that you will not bear reproach for it. I will deal with all your oppressors. … I will save the lame and gather the outcast,and I will change their shame into praise. … I will bring you home, at the time when I gather you; for I will make you renowned and praised among all the peoples of the earth, when I restore your fortunes before your eyes,” says the Lord (Zephaniah 3:14-20 selected verses).

You may be unfamiliar with the context of the times in which Zephaniah was writing. His ministry was, after all, over 26 centuries ago, around 630 BC (Christianity.com, Bible.org). Zephaniah’s ministry likely was very early in the reign of King Josiah. Josiah came to the throne as just a boy, and later in his career sought to institute religious reforms in the nation of Judah, because the people had lost track of the law of God (cf. 2 Kings 22, 23). But those reform attempts hadn’t happened yet. Zephaniah was speaking to a nation that had been living under God’s blessing for several hundred years and was growing distant in their hearts from God. They were worshiping other things, following other priorities, with individuals seeking their own advantage and ignoring their neighbor’s needs. Sound familiar? Sound a little like our own lives in our own times? Back in those Old Testament times, Josiah’s reforms were short-lived. A couple decades after Zephaniah, the prophet Jeremiah would be speaking out again, even more dramatically. When Zephaniah called for repentance and a return to God, regular, everyday people in Judah lived under the sway of the powerful and immoral in their own nation—and they were caught up in plenty of apostasy themselves. One commentator described the cultural context as a time “of great darkness … of violence and pain,” adding: “God never brings destruction to a place or a people that haven’t already destroyed themselves” (April Motl on Crosswalk.com). As Zephaniah (and later Jeremiah) foretold, there next would come a time when the regular, everyday people of God would live under the sway of other powerful nations and people, their fates held in the hands of first the Bablylonians and then the Medes and the Persians.

At the same time as Zephaniah prophesied impending judgment from God, however, he also gave the people a message of hope. When God judges or destroys, he does so “for the purpose of protecting or rebuilding” (April Motl on Crosswalk.com). The hope held out by Zephaniah would find some fulfillment when Judah was restored from captivity under Babylon and Persia. Hope would be fulfilled still more when the Messiah would come, when Jesus was born and brought new hope to this world. Hope will be fulfilled ultimately when Jesus comes again at the end of time, vindicating the faith of those who have continued to trust in him through all the pains and shames and sins and disasters of this life.

We are called to hope as the people in Zephaniah’s day were called to hope. That same call to hope was issued by the apostle Paul in New Testament times. When Paul wrote his letter of encouragement to the church in Philippi, he was being held imprisoned in Rome, and the Philippian church members were facing an array of troubles and persecutions. They had judgments against them. They had enemies. They were reproached. People in their community opposed and oppressed them. But, at the beginning of his letter, Paul told them, “[God] has graciously granted you the privilege not only of believing in Christ, but of suffering for him as well—since you are having the same struggle that you saw I had and now hear that I still have” (Philippians 1:29,30). Many of our churches and church members today are facing struggles and challenges of their own. You may be feeling insecurity about where things are at right now, and much uncertainty about where things are headed in the future. But listen to the voice of Christ’s apostle calling out to you, telling you where to turn. Paul urges you, as he did the Philippians:

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:4-7).

We don’t know what tomorrow will bring. But we do know what forever holds in store for us, through our hope in Christ. And so as we wait for Christ—for Christmas in this season and for Christ’s return to us at the end of days—we strive to live with hope in our hearts. We encourage one another to be hopeful, even when the circumstances in which we find ourselves look bleak. We wait for the Lord hopefully, hanging onto his promises as the gospel truth.

And we wait patiently … or at least try to be patient. We are, by nature, impatient people. We tend to want what we want and we want it now. If the package we ordered doesn’t arrive in a couple of days, we get irritated. If the trip to the store takes up too much time with too long of lines, we get irritated. If something we want for ourselves, for our house, for our farm or business, or for our church is not available to us right now or is out of reach of our budget or unrealistic in our present situation, we get irritated. We are impatient.

Life as it is, in the here and now, often doesn’t align with our ambitions or with the comfort and stability we want. Life is often painful and hard. Things don’t go our way. Things get in our way. Sickness interrupts health. Lack of resources limits our options. Other people don’t think the way we think they should think, or do what we want them to do. We turn from hopeful and happy to being frustrated and ornery. We may take out our frustrations against others, even those closest to us. Within our families and within our churches, each of us starts seeking our own interests rather than maintaining concern for one another and for the well-being of all. So we become less ethical, more self-centered in our own attitudes and behaviors.

Our impatience and frustrations lead us to become ungrateful, uncooperative, unyielding–all of which, of course, are the opposite of God’s call to us. We are called to “lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely and … run with perseverance the race that is set before us” (Hebrews 12:1). Only by keeping our eyes fixed on Jesus as the author and perfecter of our faith (Hebrews 12:2) can we stay on a path of rejoicing always, displaying gentleness to everyone, not worrying about things but maintaining thankfulness. It feels so impossible for us to live in such an attitude, but we are assured: “The peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard [our] hearts and … minds in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:7).

So we strive to live hopefully and to live patiently–hoping in Christ and his promises, patient with each other as we face life’s challenges, and leaning on each other as brothers and sisters. Living such a life together as God’s people calls us to live honestly, ethically, responsibly with one another.

Listen to the call of another of God’s prophets, John the Baptist. When the crowds asked John, “What then should we do?” (Luke 3:10) …

In reply he said to them, “Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.” [When] tax collectors came to be baptized, and they asked him, “Teacher, what should we do?” [John] said to them, “Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you.” Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what should we do?” He said to them, “Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages” (Luke 3:11-14).

You get John’s point. Be ethical. Be responsible. Be thinking of others, not just of yourselves. “Do to others as you would have them do to you,” as Jesus said (Luke 6:31). Treat everyone with respect and consideration and caring as you interact with one another. That is our calling in our communities, with every neighbor in our world. That is equally and especially our calling also within our churches, as we plan and work and do ministry together.

Many small and medium-size churches today are facing significant challenges as they seek to carry out ministry. A national survey of churches conducted just prior to COVID-19 lockdowns in 2020 found that “half of the country’s estimated 350,000 religious congregations had 65 or fewer people in attendance on any given weekend … a drop of more than half from a median attendance level of 137 people in 2000” (Religious News Service, October 14, 2021). The pandemic has reduced worship attendance even further, standing now at about three-fourths of pre-pandemic levels as of August of this year (Baptist Standard, November 4, 2021).

Maybe the way you’re feeling about your own life or your congregational life these days is something like the feelings of Stephanie or Derrick (whom I described at the start of this message). Feeling like you’re the outcast, the down-and-out little sister, not as good as big churches somewhere else that seem to be flourishing. Feeling like you have labored and toiled and worked hard for many years, and now are up against challenges that have you searching desperately for resources and answers that are nowhere to be seen. Again, we don’t know what tomorrow will bring. We can’t cast our eyes into the near (or far) future here on earth and know exactly what plans the Lord is working out for us. But we do have his promise “that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28). And we do know what forever holds in store for us, through our hope in Christ. And so as we wait for Christ—in this Christmas season and anticipating his return to us at the end of days—we will strive to live in dignity and love with one another. We will set our minds on thinking about things that are true and honorable and pure and pleasing (cf. Philippians 4:8), rejoicing in the Lord always (Philippians 4:4). And we will set our hands about whatever tasks we can take on–to advance our relationships with one another, our care for others in our communities, and our commitment to honoring Christ in everything we say and do.

Life on this earth is not easy. It was not easy in Zephaniah’s day, nor in the days of John the Baptist and the apostle Paul. It’s never easy. As Paul and his missionary companions said to the members of churches they had established, “We must go through many hardships to enter the kingdom of God” (Acts 14:22 NIV). But we have God’s promise that he doesn’t abandon us. So we will not abandon him in our hearts, but keep trusting and hoping and persevering. We will not abandon him in our actions, but keep loving and helping and befriending. This is the life to which we are called by the prophets and apostles. This is our calling in Christ. “And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:7). Amen.

Scripture quotations, except where indicated otherwise 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.

Scripture quotation marked (NIV) taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved worldwide. The “NIV” and “New International Version” are trademarks registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office by Biblica, Inc.™

Jun

2021

A suffering woman and a dead girl

Jesus is our Hope when Problems are Unsolvable

[Readings for the 5th Sunday after Pentecost: Lamentations 3:22-33, Psalm 30, 2 Corinthians 8:7-15, Mark 5:21-43]

Chances are, a number of you currently are experiencing or recently have experienced a loss, a hardship, some source of pain in your life. Just in terms of those who’ve lost a loved one, statistics say there are people reading this blog post dealing with that form of grief. “About 2½ million people die in the United States annually, each leaving an average of five grieving people behind” (The Recovery Village: Grief by the Numbers). In 2020, that number of deaths in the US was estimated at over 3½ million by the CDC’s National Vital Statistics System–the death toll expanded greatly due to COVID. An Associated Press poll conducted in March of this year found that 20% of people in the United States had lost a friend or close relative to COVID. “That means a potential bereaved population of about 65 million.” A psychiatrist at Columbia University warns that because of isolation due to the pandemic, a significant percentage of the bereaved could experience prolonged grief disorder, a condition of persistent grief that lasts longer and aches more deeply than the typical grieving process. Some studies have shown more than triple the typical rate of prolonged grief disorder have been occurring over this past year. (See “COVID Has Put the World at Risk of Prolonged Grief Disorder,” by Katherine Harmon Courage, May 19, 2021, in Scientific American.)

Those are some general truths, some national and international statistics. More than likely, some of you reading this are grieving over a loss, some are struggling with persistent pain, all know community members whose lives are hurting.

“Encounter” by Daniel Cariola, Magdala Chapel – https://www.magdala.org/

The Gospel account for this Sunday (Mark 5:21-43), from the days of Jesus’ ministry in Galilee, shows powerful examples of persons dealing with grief and trauma … and their dependence on Jesus as their only hope. First there is the case of Jairus’ daughter, a young girl who should not become deathly ill, but who was deathly ill. Then, even as Jesus was on his way to Jairus’ home, the girl died. That did not stop Jesus from his desire or ability to help. We’ll say more about that momentarily. Meanwhile, Jesus was the only answer for a woman whose problem just would not go away, and she was at the end of her rope. She had been suffering for twelve years with “an issue of blood,” as the King James Version put it. Our translation says “hemorrhaging.” Modern scholars, assessing what may have afflicted her, deduce it was menorrhagia — “abnormally heavy and long menstruation that causes enough cramping and blood loss … that it makes normal daily activities impossible” (Nigerian Biomedical Science Journal, August 29, 2017). We feel anguish for that woman, experiencing such a condition for twelve years. Now think also of the social stigma that it placed on her in her culture. Jewish cultural norms, following the laws of Moses, stipulated that anyone with a bodily discharge (bleeding or secretion) was considered “unclean” and was to stay socially distanced till after the bleeding or discharge stopped. It was a religious rule but also something of a public health rule for the Jewish people back before anyone knew much about bloodborne pathogens protocols. So, on top of a chronic, frightening health problem, this poor woman was supposed to remain in something like COVID-19 lockdown when the community around her was not in lockdown. Think of the isolation and abandonment and frustration she must have felt. She seems to have been a woman of some means, and had spent every penny she had going to various doctors, trying to find a cure for her problem. But none of them could help her. Her condition only got worse. Coming to see Jesus was an act of desperation, her last hope. She’d heard about Jesus. She’d heard he could do miracles. So she violated the social distancing policies that prohibited her from going out into a crowded space. She made her way through the throngs of people following Jesus, hoping just to get close enough, thinking, “If I but touch his clothes, I will be made well” (Mark 5:28).

Indeed, the woman was made well from the moment she came in contact with Jesus. But Jesus did not want her to remain in hiding (or to hide from him). He stopped the crowd. He took note of the woman, who was afraid and confessed what she had done–which actually was a confession of faith. Jesus commended her and promised his ongoing presence with her. “Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace, and be healed of your disease,” Jesus said (Mark 5:34). Think a bit about the context too. Jesus was on his way to the home of a high-ranking person, Jairus, who was a leader of the local synagogue. And Jairus had a significant need for Jesus’ attention; his daughter was deathly ill. But Jesus paused to pay attention to the woman who just wanted a quick, incognito encounter and nothing more. She was like a person who comes to a church hoping against hope for something, sitting in the back row, not wanting to be noticed, but the Lord wants her to be noticed and wants people to care about her. No matter how insignificant we feel we are, no matter how ostracized or shoved aside by society, no matter how helpless we think our situation is, Jesus wants us to know we are welcome in his presence, that we are worthy of care and attention.

Gabriel von Max, “The Raising of Jairus Daughter” (1878) – Wikimedia Commons

And Jesus will care about us even when our situation is more dire than twelve years of incessant bleeding. For example, when a twelve-year old girl is dying–and even when she dies–Jesus does not turn away from helping. To everybody else in the situation with Jairus’ daughter, her death was the end of the story. People came from the family’s house to say Jesus need not be bothered anymore, because the girl was dead. When Jesus came to the house anyway and told the mourners the girl was only sleeping and he would wake her, they all laughed at him. But we see the ultimate power of Jesus and the reason he had come to be with us on this earth. Death is the ultimate problem that plagues us as human beings. The sicknesses we have point to our mortality, to the eventuality that we all die. The death of a child points out the cold reality of death in a particularly harsh way. But the shocking finality of death is the very reason Jesus became incarnate as a human being, to reverse that curse. As Scripture says, Jesus came down to our level “so that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone.” Since we are beings of flesh and blood, he “shared the same things, so that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death” (Hebrews 2:9,14,15). Jesus’ actions healing the suffering woman and raising the dead girl are evidence of the healing and salvation he came to bring to all of us.

Maybe the problems you experience in your life aren’t exactly like the cases we looked at today, a woman hemorrhaging blood for twelve years, a family mourning the death of a child. Their experiences are examples within the range of so much human suffering that occurs. So many people experience deep hurts of so many kinds. In my years in the church, I’ve known …

dear souls who bore the scars of childhood sexual abuse for years and years in their adult lives …
dear souls who struggled with addiction …
dear souls who lost their jobs and struggled to maintain self-respect …
dear souls who experienced excruciating pain from terminal diseases …
dear souls who lost loved ones in senseless ways — in a car accident that occured on the way home from attending a funeral, or in a plane crash that occurred while attempting a stunt for a military air show.

In the work I’m doing now in human services, I encounter persons …

who need skilled nursing care and hospice care …
who need mental health hospitalization …
who have all manner of disabilities and need ongoing care and supports …
who are challenged by poverty and have little or no resources ….

So, while I don’t know exactly what you’re going through in your lives right now, chances are, there are losses, hardships, and no shortage of sources of pain. Maybe you feel like your soul has been bleeding for years and you don’t know how to make it stop. Where do you turn when the hurt in your life is constant, when the aches of your heart never really go away? Maybe you’ve tried everything–self-help books, practicing self-care, seeking professional help, any kind of help from anywhere and everywhere. And some things help some, but nothing is a complete cure. Only the hope we have for resurrection in Jesus can keep us going through the pains and losses and devastations that are so much a part of life on this earth. Jesus is our hope when our problems are otherwise unsolvable. Like the woman pressing through the crowd for even just a touch of the hem of his garment, we reach out to Jesus as our only eternal source of hope.

And how does that work–to reach out to be touched by Jesus when Jesus isn’t physically walking through the streets of your town? Certainly one way is in coming to church, where you gather to hear Jesus’ words and receive his touch through the sacraments. There’s another way, too, that I’d like to say a little something about before concluding this message. I’d like you to think about today’s Epistle lesson also (2 Corinthians 8:7-15), which maybe seemed to go in a different direction than the other readings of the day. Paul wrote to the Christians at Corinth: “As you excel in everything—in faith, in speech, in knowledge, in utmost eagerness, and in your love for us—so we want you to excel also in this generous undertaking” (2 Corinthians 8:7). The generous undertaking going on at that time was a special gathering of financial support for Christians elsewhere, particularly in the regions of Judea and Syria, who were experiencing food shortages and famine conditions. Actually, the original statement in Paul’s letter simply says, “We want you to excel also in this grace” — the Greek word charis (from which we get our English word “charity”). It’s somewhat limiting that in English we use the word “charity” (charis) mostly in terms of financial gifts. Scripture uses the same word not just for gifts of financial support but for the ultimate grace, God’s gift of his Son Jesus, the One and Only, to be our rescuer. Jesus now calls us to be gifts of grace to each other–with financial contributions, yes, but more than financial contributions. We become embodiments of Jesus to one another in our times of need.

At a church I was associated with in Texas some years ago, the congregation was in a bit of a financial crisis. A series of cottage meetings were planned, gathering members together in small groups at host members’ homes, to talk about how to address the financial crisis. At the first of those meetings, before getting to the stewardship agenda for the evening, there was an icebreaker activity planned, just to get people talking. Each person could respond to a prompt on the icebreaker card, which had prompts such as, “The most embarrassing moment in my life was ___________” … “One of my favorite vacations was _____” … “Something I’m praying about right now is ______,” and others. The first person at that first meeting started the conversation circle, choosing, “Something I’m praying about right now” and saying, “I’m praying for my daughter, who was just diagnosed with cancer.” There followed many minutes of fellow members showing concern for the woman, for her daughter, for her daughter’s husband and children, and actually engaging in prayer right there as a prayer circle. The next person in the circle then also chose to share something heavy on her heart, something she was praying about, and the members listened to her hurt and ministered to her as well. For over two hours that evening, the members shared their needs, consoled one another, prayed for one another. They never did get to the planned agenda about the church’s financial situation, and that was okay. They did what was important. The other cottage meetings that occurred in the days and weeks after that first one all followed the same pattern. The gathered members all focused on the prompt about what was heavy on their hearts, what they were praying about, and they acted as missionaries of gospel to one another, encouraging each other. Oh, and by the way, the church’s financial situation turned around too–because for the first time in a long time the members of the congregation began to realize the value of their ministry to one another and to others and, like Paul said, they began to excel also in that grace and in the generous undertaking of gifts to support needed ministry.

In the midst of famine and hunger, in the midst of grief and abandonment, in the midst of sickness and death, in the midst of all this world’s problems and pains, Jesus is our hope. And as brothers and sisters to one another in Jesus, we become miracles of grace and hope to one another as well.

Brothers and sisters, may Christ be with you as you endure whatever hurts or sorrows are happening in your life today and whatever troubles you may face in days to come. And may you be with one another in Christ, supporting each other, praying for one another, reminding each other of the gospel hope we share. We know our Redeemer lives, and that he will be with us when we are on our deathbeds, and that at the end, he will stand upon our graves, and that even after our skin has been destroyed, we will yet see God, we will be raised by Christ to be with Christ forever. How our hearts yearn within us! (Cf. Job 19:25-27.) Amen.

—

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.

Aug

2020

The House of Disposable Souls

A Fable

by David Sellnow

“In the land of spirit beings, there was a house that gathered souls.They sought out souls that were perfectly spherical. Any souls they discovered that were out of round or oddly shaped were quickly discarded. They sought out souls that were unstained and unblemished. Any souls they discovered that had bumps or bruises were passed over and rejected. They sought out souls that were shiny and glowed in a preferred range of colors. Any souls they discovered that were mottled or blurry or too dark in appearance were left behind and ignored.

“Over time, the spirits gathered a small collection of souls that they protected and preserved in their house. If any of the souls developed inconsistencies or loss of clarity or discoloration or dulling, those souls were removed from the house. The spirits would seek other, more impeccable specimens, as replacements. The house became known as The House of Disposable Souls.

“Elsewhere in the land of spirit beings, there was another house that gathered souls. They searched for souls of all shapes and sizes. They included souls that were imperfect, unpolished, irregular. They valued souls that were rough to the touch as well as those that were smooth. They recognized special worth in souls that were differently shaped and of variegated colors. They saw deep potential in all souls they encountered. They labored to help each soul radiate its own unique sheen, coaxing out natural hues and luster. If souls they found or souls in their care suffered cracks or were damaged, the spirits applied balm to heal the wounds. They sought to refresh and develop each soul, nurturing strength as well as tenderness. The house became known as the House of Renewable Souls.”

After concluding the story, the teacher asked her listeners: “Which of these houses cared for souls as the Creator of souls intended?”

The listeners knew they had growing to do in their own attitudes and ministries.

Scriptures to consider:

“The Son of Man came to seek out and to save the lost” (Luke 19:10).
“There will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance. … I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents” (Luke 15:7,10).
”Here is my servant, whom I have chosen. … He will not break a bruised reed or quench a smoldering wick” (Matthew 12:18, 20).
”Consider your own call, brothers and sisters: not many of you were wise by human standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, things that are not, to reduce to nothing things that are, so that no one might boast in the presence of God. He is the source of your life in Christ Jesus, who became for us wisdom from God, and righteousness and sanctification and redemption” (1 Corinthians 1:26-30).

Prayer:

Creator of all, teach us to value each human soul in the same spirit as Christ our Savior, who said, “Anyone who comes to me I will never drive away” (John 6:37). Amen.

—-

Dec

2019

His healing grace

Originally published on The Electric Gospel on September 10, 2016.

His Healing Grace

by Molly Peavy

A country of abuse, neglect, and unhealed hurts. It didn’t take long for this aspect of current Chinese culture to imprint itself in our minds. Dogs and cats being beaten outside of our apartment, women in the market with hand-shaped bruises around their necks, our screaming neighbors … these memories cannot be quickly forgotten. Where once pride and honor were of highest priority, men beat wives and children and sons assault their mothers while fathers look on with amused expressions.

These sad images are all symptoms of a sickness, the sickness of souls … a sickness which pervades cultures everywhere on earth. Without faith, we are all born enemies of God, sinners sinking deeper into our condition. How could we expect love and compassion to rule when our Savior rules in so few hearts? Where will people learn of grace? Where will generosity or compassion be experienced? Not in Shanghai’s streets, crowded with the ignored unfortunate, not on the subway where seats are stolen from weary elders with heavy groceries, not in the neighborhoods where confused animals are hurt for amusement.

We felt horror and revulsion, much like Jonah must have felt with the Ninevites. But we then realized that this could easily be us were we without the knowledge of the Lord’s loving forgiveness. The urgent need for his word became obvious. Hope for the downtrodden, forgiveness for the oppressors, reprieve for the wounded of body and spirit—our Lord has infinite riches to offer morally bankrupt human cultures. We were able to bring Christ’s healing word to our students and staff, and reprieve to an abused kitten, but there is still so much work to be done through prayer, offerings, and gifts of time and self. Let us all approach our mission in this world—wherever we may be—with the message of God’s healing love and grace.

Molly wrote this piece while she and her husband Doug were serving in Shanghai, China.

Dec

2019

If you see someone, be someone

Originally published on the Electric Gospel on June 30, 2019

If you see someone, be someone

by David Sellnow

“When Job’s three friends … heard about all the troubles that had come upon him, they set out from their homes and met together by agreement to go and sympathize with him and comfort him. … They sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was” (Job 2:11,13).

Renae’s life had crashed in an instant. She had thought her husband was her soulmate, and her son had been her pride and joy. But in midlife, her husband, Randy, had an affair. She wanted to preserve their marriage, but now it seemed like a thousand-piece puzzle with no guide for aligning all the jagged edges. Then her adult son, Danny, was diagnosed with AIDS. He’d had HIV for a couple years before symptoms started to show. He hadn’t been one to do regular medical checkups, so the disease wasn’t discovered until his health began to deteriorate. The onset of AIDS also became the first time Danny told his parents that he was gay. He knew they held traditional views and would have a hard time accepting who he really was.

Indeed, Renae did have problems coming to terms with her son’s situation, as well as her husband’s infidelity. She wanted healing with Randy, but couldn’t stop herself from picking and gouging at the scabs of the hurt that existed between them. Her heart ached over Danny’s suffering, but she couldn’t bring herself to be at his side. She felt alienated from both her husband and her son.

Always an active church member, Renae felt cut off from her spiritual community too. No one called. No one stopped by—except her pastor.

“I don’t understand, Pastor Kim,” Reneae said. “I thought the people at church were my friends. It’s like I’m suddenly an outcast.”

“They tell me they don’t know what to say or do,” Pastor Kim responded. “I’ve urged them to come see you, to be with you—even if they don’t have all the answers. I don’t have all the answers either. Sometimes what the Lord wants us to learn from life’s struggles isn’t easy to see.”

“It seems all God wants is to punish me and give me trouble.”

“That’s not how God is. God is with us in our suffering, and wants us to be with one another in suffering. Speaking of which … how is Danny doing? Have you had opportunity to spend time with him?”

Renae stared at the floor. “I don’t know what to say to him,” she said.

“It’s less about what you say and more about being there for each other. Danny needs your love, and you need his love too.”

“But … but he’s not who I thought he was,” she stammered.

“I reckon God as our Parent could say that about all of us—children who are different from what he envisioned for us. Or, as Isaiah described, we’re like sheep who ‘have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way’ (Isaiah 53:6). But God came to be with us. Jesus came to walk alongside us and was willing to carry our sorrows and infirmities. ‘He took up our pain and bore our suffering’ (Isaiah 53:4), and all our sins were laid upon him. This is not a time to withhold your love from your son, Renae. There’s never such a time.”

“I guess all three of us need to try to understand each other and lean on each other,” Renae acknowledged. “Randy has been more supportive to Danny than I’ve been. He’s been spending time with Danny.”

“If there’s room in your heart to forgive Randy, I believe there’s room in your heart to be the mother your son needs.”

“Job’s friends came to him after his life had collapsed all around him. They didn’t really know what to say. In fact, as time went on, they said many of the wrong things. Read Job’s story if you want lessons on what not to say to someone in a crisis. But at least Job’s friends came. They cared enough to come and sit with him. They sat in the dirt for seven straight days before they attempted to say anything. Those days sitting on the ground beside their friend were perhaps the best way to offer compassion and comfort. This short life is long on problems. And in our problems, we need people to come and be with us—the way God himself came to be with us in our problem-plagued world.That Sunday, Pastor Kim addressed the congregation with a sermon about the friends of Job:

“You’ve heard the expression, ‘If you see something, say something,’ referring to signs there may be trouble or a threat to safety. I have a similar message for you today. If you see someone, be someone. When you see someone who is hurting, be someone who goes to that person. Be someone willing to sit in the dirt with someone who has been crushed down to the ground. Be someone who cares, someone who rebuilds and befriends. Be Christ to your neighbor, entering into their suffering, bringing compassion and hope.”

That week, Renae was visited by a number of her church friends. And Renae and Randy and Danny began reconnecting as a family. Things didn’t get easier, but they faced the challenges together.

DISCUSSION THOUGHTS:

Do you know someone who could use an encouraging word, or just the encouragement of your presence? When will you reach out to them?
If you need encouragement, who is someone that you can ask to come and sit in the dirt with you?

BIBLE PORTION TO READ: Job chapter 2

PRAYER:

Lord, give us friends when we need friends, and move us to befriend others when they need us. In Jesus, who came to suffer with us. Amen.

An Advent Promise—and Warning

The Sun of Righteousness is Rising

Learning how to forgive — forgive freely, but not cheaply

The Quiet Power of God’s Presence

We wait for the Lord — hopefully, patiently, responsibly

Jesus is our Hope when Problems are Unsolvable

A Fable

His Healing Grace

If you see someone, be someone

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