trust

Sep

2024

Responding to evil and trouble in this world

Thoughts in remembrance of 9/11

public domain image from picryl.com

This past weekend, CBS news program “60 Minutes” rebroadcast their 2011 special, “9/11: The FDNY,” recalling the efforts and sacrifices made by firefighters responding to the attacks on the Twin Towers in New York City.

9/11 made us ponder also theological questions about horrors and tragedies that occur in this world. I’ll share here devotional thoughts that originally were The Electric Gospel message in September 2001. (At that time, The Electric Gospel was in email form, sent to an electronic mailing list of college students as part of a national campus ministry program.)

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Responding to evil and trouble in this world

Planes hijacked. Skyscrapers plummeted to the ground. The seat of strength of our military might—the Pentagon—ruptured, fractured, broken, burning. What are we to think?

Why would God let such things happen? Why would God let planes crash and buildings collapse? Is America so sinful that God decided to punish us? Were the people aboard the hijacked jets under a sentence of God’s judgment? Were the people in the World Trade Center less godly than others, so God was okay with letting them die? Those thoughts surely are a misinterpretation, for this is the God who said he would have spared Sodom and Gomorrah had there been ten righteous people living there (Genesis 18:32).

Why would God let terrorists succeed? Why has he let evil people have their way? Is he approving of their evil? Is he unable to put a stop to evil? Neither thought is acceptable. We believe the word that the LORD is not a God who takes pleasure in evil (Psalm 5:4) and cannot be tempted by evil (James 1:13). We believe the promise that nothing is impossible with God (Luke 1:37), that the Lord has all authority in heaven and on earth (Matthew 28:18).

So then, what are we to say when evil and trouble occur? How do we respond to tragedies in this world?

Let’s ask someone who can give us an answer. Here is what Jesus himself had to say on the subject:

There were some who told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mingled with their sacrifices. He asked them, “Do you think that because these Galileans suffered in this way they were worse sinners than all other Galileans? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish as they did. Or those eighteen who were killed when the tower of Siloam fell on them—do you think that they were worse offenders than all the others living in Jerusalem? No, I tell you; but unless you repent, you will all perish just as they did” (Luke 13:1–5).

We don’t know all the details about the incidents mentioned in Jesus’ comments. Clearly, they were well-known current events in Jerusalem at that time. One was an example of brutal, terrorist-type activity. Pontius Pilate ordered the massacre of certain Galileans in the temple courts where sacrifices were brought. They may have been suspected as revolutionaries. Roman methods for dealing with such suspects were typically swift and severe. They kept people in line by engendering fear. The other event was not one of malicious intent, but simple structural failure. A tower toppled and eighteen people were crushed underneath it.

One event a horrific crime, the other an accidental catastrophe. Regardless of the circumstances of the deadly incidents, Jesus says our response should be the same. Repent, or we also will perish.

Jesus’ words at first strike our ears as harsh. When people are murdered, our immediate reaction is outrage. When tragedies take lives, our main inclination is to mourn. But Jesus urges us also toward repentance. Why?

It comes down to an understanding of the shortness of this life and the necessity of clinging to God. We live in a world where death happens every day. We speak of many deaths occurring from natural causes, but there is nothing truly natural about death. Death entered the world through sin (Romans 5:12). The violation of God‘s commands is the reason that human beings die. Death has been a curse to us since sin entered into our world, with sin damaging us all along the way. Sin rears its ugly head in every ugly form it can find. Death takes its toll whenever and however it can—through crime, through disaster, through disease, through the decline of old age. We sin and we die. That is the story of human life and human history.

If we think we can make humanity immune to sin and death by self-help programs, we are mistaken. If we think we can make the world more secure by our own human efforts, we are mistaken. We are caught up in a world where there is sin, and we do die.

That is why Jesus said, “Unless you repent, you too will all perish.” Everybody in this world does perish, and one way or another. Whether it comes by the blade of a soldier’s sword or the bricks of a buckling building, whether by the bullets of a drive-by shooter or the winds of a tropical storm, whether by the hatefulness of an international terrorist or just that your heart stops beating while you sleep in your bed at night … the fact is that you and I and everyone else will face death. Whether we die of what are deemed natural causes or die in tragic ways, death is a reality we cannot avoid. We are not the solution to our own problem. We are people in need of a restored link to life with God. That is why Jesus urges us to repentance. He wants us to understand our need, our helplessness … and the hope that we have in him.

The meaning of repentance is not just recognizing our sin and weakness. It also means recognizing where help is to be found and turning to the one in whom there is help. We need trust. We need strength. We don’t get those things on our own. We are brought from death to life by the living God.

Jesus followed his words about crimes and disasters by telling a parable. He spoke of a fruitless fig tree that was wasting the soil in which it stood. By all rights, the orchard owner could hack such a tree down right away. But that is not God’s gardening method. Dig around It, fertilize it, nurture it, give it more time (Luke 13:6-9). That is what God does. In spiritual terms, what does that mean? It means God is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance (2 Peter 3:9). We call our time on this earth a time of grace. If God were to wipe out all evil before it ever occurred, he would have to stop each of us human beings in our tracks. Not a single person could continue acting if God were to eradicate all evil by force, by wiping it off the face of the planet. We all have tendencies toward evil and weakness and sin. We are all stained with guilt. God did not choose to deal with evil by destroying sinners. He chose to answer the problem of evil by sending the solution in Christ.

Rather than launching destruction against every evildoer, the LORD laid on his own Son the guilt of all the world (Isaiah 53:6). Christ himself became the object and sufferer of every imaginable human evil. He was mocked and spit upon. He was slapped, punched, clubbed. He was whipped with ripping shards of metal tied to leather, tearing his flesh, bloodying his back. He was nailed hand and foot to hunks of wood, and hung up to die as a victim of mob rage and governmental violence. He was made the scourge of all the world. More than that, he was made the target of God’s own justice, carrying on himself the penalty of all sins. “It was the will of the Lord to crush him with pain” (Isaiah 53:10). That is how God answered evil and death. He gave all us life by the death of his one eternal Son.

So, when we see horrors happen in our world, how will we respond? Let us meet those events with humility and repentance. We know that all of us—along with all the rest of the world—need redemption. We also meet those horrors and tragedies with faith. We set our hopes not in this world or anything of this world, but in Christ, He suffered all things and satisfied all justice on our behalf. In him, we are saved.

We do not know what will happen tomorrow. We do not know what will be the outcome of any present or future war. We do not know if the USA will endure for centuries to come or not … or whether Judgment Day itself may be just around the corner. What we do know is that Jesus is our Savior. He has purchased and won us from all sins, from death, and from the power of the devil with his holy precious blood, and with his innocent sufferings and death (Luther’s Small Catechism). That is the basis of our hope on the best of days in this world. That is the basis of our hope on the worst of days also.

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.

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).

Jun

2024

God is with us through the storms

A message for the 5th Sunday after Pentecost, June 23, 2024
Revised Common Lectionary Readings: Job 38:1-11, 2 Corinthians 6:1-13, Mark 4:35-41
For an additional message regarding the life experience of Job, see this previous Electric Gospel post: https://theelectricgospel.com/faith-cries-out/

God is with us through the storms

Where I live, it has been raining and raining and raining. Our rainfall totals from Thursday to yesterday (Saturday) were nearly 5 inches, and towns not far from us had over 8 inches of rain in the same span. This is on top of previous weeks’ rainfall amounts that were already double the average normally received for the whole month of June.

We appreciate rain. But we get nervous when the rains keep coming, fearing flooding that may follow. And storms scare us. Violent winds and other weather phenomena can cause all sorts of damage. We’d like our weather always to be pleasant—sunshine when we want sunshine, gentle rain when we need rain. We’d like our lives to be like that—generally pleasant overall, no major disturbances or disruptions.

We even can get confused and think when life is smooth and easy, it proves God is with us. We think if we are doing the right things, God will reward us and make material blessings flow in our direction. There’s a name for that kind of thinking. It’s called having a theology of glory. The idea is that if we are right with God, then our lives will display wonderful, visible success.

Try applying that sort of theology to a man like Job. This Sunday’s scriptures included a reading from the end of the story of Job. Job was a man who had vast wealth and a large family. In his day—perhaps as early or earlier than the time of Abraham—Job was said to be “the greatest of all the people of the east” (Job 1:3). Not only that, Job was a man of faith, attested by the LORD himself to be “blameless and upright” and God-fearing to a degree greater than any other person on earth (Job 1:1,8). Then God let the devil have his way with Job. Job’s possessions were decimated. His seven sons and three daughters all were killed. His own health was exchanged for lingering, painful illness. All that turmoil is told in just the first two chapters of Job’s book. Then for 35 chapters, we listen to Job and his friends meditate on the misery. His friends first said nothing. For seven days they sat and stared at the ground. Finally, Job spoke out in complaint. He cried out in pain. His friends then offered some advice, much of which added insult to injury. Most of what they said was theology of glory in reverse. Essentially, they said, “Job, to be suffering like you are, you must be guilty of some heinous crime or dreadful offense against God.” But that wasn’t true. There was no one more devoted to God than Job was. As patriarch of his family, he regularly offered sacrifices on behalf of his children. He honored God and shunned evil. Yet the very God whom he so revered allowed him to be engulfed by tragedy. Where was the glory in that? Where was there any hint of reward for good behavior? God took the finest example of a believing person that could be found, and let him become an example of pain and horror and loss.

And Satan was involved too. That dragon was eager to sink his claws into Job. Always looking for souls to devour (1 Peter 5:8), the devil goes after every child of God, the weak and the strong, intent on destroying the faith of any that he can. And God suffers all of his believers to endure such temptations. The LORD does not want us to become secure in ourselves, thinking we’re immune to sin’s dangers or safe from sin’s fallout—the tumult and storms that characterize life in this world. The LORD wants each of us ever more deeply, ever more personally, ever more intimately to grasp onto him in faith, trusting him as our Rescuer.

What God showed in the life of Job, he is equally ready to demonstrate in his dealings with you. He says to you what he said to his people of old: “Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. 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” (Isaiah 43:1-2).

Notice what the LORD is saying. He does not promise that you will avoid all hurt and trouble. He does not say you will escape the floodwaters or that you won’t face danger or fire. Sometimes, in fact—as the Lord did in the case of Job—he will push you into the fire or plunge you deep underwater, letting this world’s troubles have their way with you. But God never abandons you. He always hangs onto you. He says, “Do not fear, for I am with you” (Isaiah 43:5). Being in precarious situations reminds you how much you need God’s strength, so that you wrap your arms of faith around him as tight as a child would cling to their parent during a thunderstorm. It’s like the apostle Paul (another great man of God) said about the life he and his ministry colleagues lived. They were servants of God, deeply devoted to doing God’s work, yet they endured “afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger.” Through it all, they kept demonstrating “purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, holiness of spirit, genuine love, truthful speech, and the power of God” (2 Corinthians 6:4-7). Paul told those who were led to Christ that It is through many hardships, “many persecutions that we must enter the kingdom of God” (Acts 14:22). If the apostle Paul endured such hardships, if a righteous man such as Job endured such hardships, you and I also can expect to endure hardships as we walk in faith in this world.

The experience of Jesus’ disciples illustrates the same truth for us. They had Jesus right there with them in their boat as they crossed Lake Kinneret (commonly called the Sea of Galilee). But that didn’t mean they were immune to the meteorological events of that region. Violent storms can happen there, especially when the winds whip down from the high hills on the eastern shore. Most recently, such a storm in 2022 saw sustained winds of 50 mph with gusts up to 87 mph, causing around $50 million in damage to property and infrastructure in the city of Tiberias and other areas along sea’s shore. (Cf. Israel Today, May 17, 2022). When a great windstorm like that arose for the disciples of Jesus centuries ago, they panicked. They couldn’t believe Jesus was sleeping through it, lounging on a cushion in the back of the boat. They woke him up, yelling, “Teacher, don’t you care that we’re about to drown” (Mark 4:38 CEV)?

As disciples of Jesus, we are a lot like those first disciples. We like to think life with Jesus should be a peaceful, pleasant ride. We don’t want anything to rock the boat or cause problems for us. We have that theology of glory mindset in us. We think if Jesus is with us, then everything in our lives should be good and glorious and successful. We are dismayed when storms arise. We feel God has fallen asleep and doesn’t care about us. We start screaming at God (like Job screamed at God), “Where are you now? Why is this happening? What did I do to deserve this?” [As if our efforts are merit badges with God, and he owes us rewards for good behavior.] Then, through the storm, out of the whirlwind, we can hear what God would say to us (as he said to Job): “Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge” (Job 38:2)? We question why God has let things get out of control when, of course, God always has all things under his control. He is the one who “laid the foundation of the earth” (Job 38:4). He is the one who says to the lakes and seas and oceans, “Here is where your proud waves shall be stopped’ (Job 38:11).

When the whirlwind hit the boats out on the Sea of Galilee, Jesus calmly got up, “rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, ‘Peace! Be still!’ Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm” (Mark 4:39). And Jesus said to his terrified disciples, “Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith” (Mark 4:40)? By this time in their journey with Jesus, the disciples had already seen him turn water into wine, cause their fishing nets to burst with an incredible number of fish, cast a demon out of a man, heal person after person of diseases and ailments. They had even seen him raise a young man, a widow’s only son, back to life after he had died. Still, Jesus had to remind them that he is indeed the Lord of all, “that even the wind and the sea obey him” (Mark 4:41). “O ye of little faith!” Jesus could say to all of us (Matthew 8:26 KJV). We all struggle to maintain trust and hope when storms come, when the circumstances of our lives suddenly are not pleasant and peaceful, or when our journey is one of chronic pain and hurt. We wonder where God is when life is a struggle.

Remember, though, that Jesus told us, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33 NIV). Satan will tempt you. Troubles will taunt you. But “God is faithful, and he will not let you be tested beyond your strength, but with the testing he will also provide the way out so that you may be able to endure it” (1 Corinthians 10:13). Through it all, come what may, look ahead to the final way out that God promises. We share the same hope Job expressed, saying: “I know that my Redeemer lives, and that at the last he will stand upon the earth, and … then in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see on my side” (Job 19:25-27). With God on our side, no matter how scary the storms, we always have hope.

There came a time in Jesus’ ministry when many of those following him turned back and no longer went along with him (John 6:66). They had been in it for the good things, for miracles that filled baskets upon baskets with bread and fish. They looked for Jesus to make their lives content and comfortable. When Jesus told them that wasn’t what life with him was about, they walked away. Jesus then asked his core group, the twelve whom he was training to be his apostles, “‘Do you also wish to go away?’ Simon Peter answered him, ‘Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God’” (John 6:67-69). Let that be our attitude also. Life isn’t all sunshine and clear skies. Storms will come. Unrest will upend our lives often. But we have a source of refuge. We have a place of safety. We have Jesus, the Holy One of God, who promises to be with us—”always, to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20). We will hang on, we will keep going, we will get to the other side, trusting in him.

Jan

2024

Epiphany message: A starry beacon up there for the rocky road down here

As with gladness men of old
did the guiding star behold;
as with joy they hailed its light,
leading onward, beaming bright;
so, most gracious God, may we
evermore be led to Thee.

Hymn lyric by William Chatterton Dix,
written January 6, 1859

The festival of Epiphany (January 6th) “recalls the visit of three Magi, or wise men, to the infant Jesus, and their sense of wonder at the encounter. It is the 12th day after Christmas and closes the Christmas season” (PBS.org).

As this day of Epiphany was approaching, my mind went back to the thoughts and cadences of an Epiphany sermon preached last year by Pastor Gerhardt Miller. I prepared the following abridged version of that message, which Gerhardt graciously has approved for sharing with you here on The Electric Gospel.

A starry beacon up there for the rocky road down here

by Gerhardt Miller

At Epiphany, we remember and ponder the journey of the Magi, “wise men from the East” who “came to Jerusalem, asking, ‘Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage’” (Matthew 2:1-2).

The wise men—whatever their number, two or three or twenty or thirty—did not find their way to the baby Jesus by accident. The wise men, wherever their hometown, were on a mission, and they completed that mission with diligence and faith. They depended on God’s grace. We too realize that anything we accomplish is accomplished with God’s grace. Make no mistake, these Magi did not stumble by accident through the front door of the private home of the Infant Jesus. That the wise men were brought to the humble threshold of Mary and Joseph and the child Jesus was because God had blessed them with more than education and insight and privilege. God also blessed them with faithful perseverance, matching the challenge of finding this precious child called Jesus. These figures we call the wise men, I suppose they were privileged. These wise men were blessed with an education. They were scholars. They studied astronomy and astrology. They knew the heavens and the stars and the planets. Their learning included more than what was above their heads. It also included what was written and reported at their fingertips. These learned souls were students of ancient literature as well. Their education would have included discourses on the forces of good and the forces of evil.

These wise men had learned Scripture and were committed to finding the Christchild. Wherever they had learned Scripture and astronomy and theology, they had to reapply that learning to a journey over real roads with real hardships and hazards. Think of it, these Magi left what was familiar and safe. They ventured into the unfamiliar and the strange—willingly, even eagerly. They left the comforts of home, endeavoring into the discomforts of the rocky road at best and the unmarked, roadless wilderness at worst. They threw themselves into the perils of becoming foreigners, when they could have just stayed put in the comforts of their own ivory towers.They left all of that behind to seek Jesus.

Let us praise the wise men for their persistence. Persistence requires faith. We do not persist if our doubts are greater than our faith. The wise men had faith in the promise they had heard. The most glorious evidence that God is love is found in the flesh and blood of a small child. The wise men wanted to see, and to bow in worship. When they left home, the wise men did not know the address or longitude or latitude of their destination. When they set out, they did not know how many miles they would travel. When they packed their bags they did not know who or what they would encounter in their quest to find this new king. When they left home, all they knew was that they were following a sign to wherever and whomever it would lead them. Let us praise these wise men for their willingness to go the distance. They went the distance in all of its mess and muck to discover God. They went the distance with all of its heat and cold and wetness and dryness. They went the distance with all of its uncertainty and pitfalls and sorrow. But in taking that journey, these wise men had a starry beacon to lead them, to show them the way.

Sometimes we need a beacon to shine—to know which way to go and have a safe road. We think of these figures having a starry beacon to show them the way when the way was clear. But the leading star above them did not remove them from the dirt and sand and danger around them. The star up there guided them, but they still had to go through the difficult road below. The starry beacon up there fortified them for the challenges ahead of them. When we are inspired, we are fortified. And the wise men were inspired.

How has inspiration given you strength in your journey? The Lord gives us strength and inspiration through Scripture and also through the people and happenings around us. God gives us strength to do the things that are difficult for us to do. When we are inspired, we are fortified. Sometimes our roads are rocky, and we need a star. Sometimes our days are dark and we cannot see a star. But we remember learning about a light and even seeing the light … and the sheer memory of God’s light gets us to put one fearful foot in front of the other fearful foot, to get us through the scary dark into the loving light.

For those wise men, when the road was rocky, they could see the star. When there was no road to follow, they could see the star. When the way was rough and steep and strange and frightening, they could see the star. When they encountered fearful circumstances around them and experienced doubt within themselves, they could see the star. When they were tired and cold and hungry and thirsty, they could see the star. As long as they could see the star, they could keep on going.

Have you ever wanted to just give up? We want to match the determination of these wise men, these learned souls. When the star was not seen by them, it was remembered by them—and in its being remembered, it shone on. The light in their memory could keep them going. Whatever the mess around these wise men, whatever the difficulty challenging them, they could see the star or look for the star or just remember the star. So, they could keep on going.

When we are inspired we are fortified: the starry beacon up there for the rocky road down here.

May our inspiration in our quest to discover truth and beauty—to discover God in God’s countless forms—be the Christchild, Jesus. May our beacon be Jesus’ love, for Jesus’ love and grace and understanding give us strength to carry on. Not only that, but Christ gives us the guidance to know where to go. May the name of Jesus be our beacon in our quest to discover God in our commonplace lives (that are not so commonplace in the end). Despite their high position and all their finery, the Magi had to work to find Jesus. Like the wise men, sometimes we have to work to find Jesus. Like the wise men, we have to work to see a small sliver of light to carry us over rocky roads and through the wilderness. Like the wise men, may we find strength in our purpose, so we can navigate life’s difficult roads. May our eyes be opened to see heavenly beauty when we feel bogged down on the rocky roads here below.

Prayer: Lord, have mercy for each and every one of us, especially for the times we have failed to see how you are with us in our lives. Teach us, so that we may understand and know that you are living and loving and with us, almighty God. Shine your beacon of light on us, to strengthen us for the roads we walk, trusting in Jesus. Amen.

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

Oct

2023

The Lord keeps me safe

This post is an abridged version of a story from the book, The Lord Cares for Me, available through Amazon publishing. The stories in the book illustrate truths from Psalm 23. I’ve set the Kindle version of the book to be available for free this week (M-F, Oct 16-20). You can download a Kindle app to your computer if you don’t have a Kindle e-reader. There are also Kindle apps you can load on your phone. Paperback editions may be purchased if preferred. If you do get a copy of the book, reviews posted on the Amazon website will be appreciated.

I have a couple other books available on Amazon also:

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Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid. You are with me. Your shepherd’s rod and staff comfort me (Psalm 23:4 NIrV).

The story of Tom and Tina

by David Sellnow

Tina and Tom and their children—Haley (age 5), Rose (3), and Zack (not quite a year old)—had made a trip to Seattle, many miles from their home in southern Colorado. They’d attended a wedding of some friends and planned sightseeing on the way. On their road trip to the northwest, they camped in Sawtooth National Forest in Idaho. On the way home, they traveled south down the Pacific coastline, camping overnight at a beautiful state park in Oregon. Tom had mapped everything out in advance. There was an east-west highway across central Oregon that they could take to reconnect to the interstate and head home.

The first part of the journey eastward was challenging. The road wound up into the mountains at a steep angle. There were twists and turns, and thick trees lined both sides of the road. Whenever they drove with the kids in the vehicle, Tina tended to be nervous. She was a worrier. The narrow lanes of this road and the inability to see past each tight turn only added to her tension.

Then things got worse–a long section of road construction. The lanes got even narrower, the traffic more congested. Inside herself, Tina’s emotions were boiling. The fun they’d enjoyed on the Oregon coast wasn’t worth the stress added by taking this way home. She wanted to yell at Tom for planning a bad route … but held her tongue in front of the kids. Tom was feeling the stress too, partly because he could tell how much the tension was eating at his wife.

They were relieved when they descended the eastern ridge of the mountains and came out to a city in the flatness of the valley below. They stopped for gas, got the kids some drinks and snacks, then continued on their way. Tina took her turn behind the wheel. She was less stressed when she was driving. She felt like she had at least some control that way.

Free public domain CC0 photo, Rawpixel.com

Tina’s feeling of control faded before long. East of the mountains, Oregon seemed like a barren wasteland. There were no cattle or farms. There were no towns, no signs of anyone living on the land. For a half hour of driving, they hadn’t even seen another car on the road, in either direction.

“What happens if we run out of gas out here?” Tina blurted out when she couldn’t hold back her worries anymore.

“We have plenty of gas,” Tom assured her. “We filled up the tank less than an hour ago.”

“But there’s nothing out here!” Tina said, almost screaming. The fact that the children were in the back seat wasn’t enough to restrain her anymore.

“Check your cell phone,” she said to Tom. “Can you get a signal?”

Tom looked at his phone. There was no signal.

“See, we could die out here!” Tina moaned, her fears overwhelming her.

Hayley spoke up from the back seat. “Mommy, God knows where we are even if the cell phone doesn’t work.”

Tina tried to show calm on the outside, but inside her mind, her worries would not be quiet. She drove for another half hour, still encountering no other cars on the road. Tina began to notice the temperature gauge on the dashboard was rising above its normal range. “Tom, the engine is getting hotter. What happens if the engine overheats?” There was a tone of panic in Tina’s voice.

“Let’s pull over,” Tom suggested. “Let the engine cool a little.”

It was hot outside. Zack wouldn’t stop crying. Tina tried to hold him and soothe him, but soon she was crying uncontrollably too. Hayley and Rose were scared–mostly because Mom was so scared. Tom tried to calm everyone down. “Let’s all say a prayer,” he said, and asked God to guard them with his angels.

Tom drove when they resumed traveling, taking it slow. Before long, in the rearview mirror, he saw a car approaching. Tom slowed further and turned on his flashers. As the car came closer, Tom realized it was a state trooper. Normally Tom didn’t like seeing the lights of a patrol car in his rearview mirror. Most times it meant he was in trouble for speeding or breaking some traffic law. Today, Tom breathed a sigh of relief, comforted by the presence of the state trooper. They weren’t alone on the road.

“How can I help you folks?” the officer said when he walked up alongside the van.

“You’ve helped us already, just by being here!” Tina said.

Tom explained the situation. The trooper said he’d follow behind them to make sure they made it to the next town, which was about 20 miles ahead. The family’s trip home was delayed by half a day while a mechanic in town fixed their engine problem. But they made it home safe, and that was what mattered.

As Tina tucked the children into bed at home, one by one, Rose said, “Mommy … the policeman who stopped to help us … was he an angel?”

“Well, he was an answer to our prayers, that’s for sure!” Tina took Rose’s hands in hers to say a prayer of thanks to God for watching over them on their journey.

The moral of the story:

Too often, we think of God watching us like a state trooper with a radar gun, ready to arrest us when we break commandments. When life’s road is long and lonely and we realize how vulnerable we are, knowing that God’s authority surrounds us relieves our fears. As the psalm writer confessed, “Your shepherd’s rod and staff comfort me” (Psalm 23:4).

What if the story of Tom and Tina’s family had ended differently? What if their car did break down on the barren road and no one came to help them? What about our own lives when problems pile up and there seems to be no relief? Does that mean God has deserted us? No, the Lord is always shepherding us, even when we are walking through the darkest corners of life … and death. He’s not just our God for solutions to problems while we’re on this earth. His ultimate purpose is to lead us to an eternity with him. One of the teachers Jesus gave to the church said, “I push hard toward what is ahead of me. I move on toward the goal to win the prize … the heavenly prize” in Christ Jesus (Philippians 3:13-14). No matter what dangers we face, no matter how dark or scary the journey gets, we can say, “I will not be afraid. Lord, you are with me” (Psalm 23:4).

Jun

2023

Faith follows God, overcoming fear

A lesson from Abram & Sarai

Faith follows God, overcoming fear

by David Sellnow

Bible selection to read: Genesis 12:1-9

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We live in a mobile society. People change jobs and places of residence rather frequently. A statistic based on US census data shows the average American moves 11 or more times in their life. Another statistic shows the average American changes jobs about 12 times.

Moving is expensive and challenging, but nowadays there are ample resources to aid you. You can obtain guidebooks and checklists to pilot you through the process. You can rent trailers and trucks and equipment to move yourself. Or you can go with major van lines that will do the moving for you—even the packing and unpacking if you want to pay the fees for it. When you hit the road, you’ve got navigational tools—printed maps, mapping websites, GPS on your phone. You have major roads and interstates on which to travel. Rest stops, convenience stores, and restaurants ease your journey. When you arrive at your new location, local stores and home delivery services will help set you up in your new environment. Moving has challenges, but moving is quite doable in the modern world.

When a man named Abram had to move, not in 2023, but more like 2023 BC (or thereabouts), things weren’t quite so easy. U-Haul® back then meant strapping your belongings onto your camels—if you were affluent enough to have camels. Road maps weren’t written on paper, let alone on computer or GPS. You had to feel the wind and follow the stars. Roads themselves weren’t four-lane concrete with divided lines. If you were fortunate, maybe you could see signs that someone had traveled that way ahead of you. There were no hotels or motels with pools and hot tubs to relieve travelers’ weary bones. You considered yourself blessed if you found a pond of water.

When Abram moved so many years ago, it was a monumental task compared to what we think of as moving today. And yet, the 400+ miles on foot wasn’t the biggest challenge, nor was the lack of modern travel advantages. Most fearful for Abram was that he had no clear idea of where he would end up. He was heading into an open-ended future, with nothing but a promise from the LORD God to sustain him. The promise did not include specifics and came from a God different from those his family had known. Yet Abram and his wife, Sarai, followed the LORD, overcoming their fears, trusting his promise.

Think of what God asked Abram to do. Abram was 75 years old. He’d lived in community with his relatives all of his life. He and his wife Sarai had moved once before, but the family group had moved together. They went from Ur (near the Persian Gulf) to Haran (in what is today eastern Turkey), with Abram’s father Terah as patriarch of the family. Now the LORD God had said to Abram: “Go from your country, your people, and your father’s household to the land I will show you” (Genesis 12:1 NIV). That was a big ask! We are not even sure how religious a man Abram was at the time God first called him. We know that his father Terah worshiped gods other than the LORD God who revealed himself to Abram (cf. Joshua 24:2). Now the LORD was commanding Abram to leave his father and others behind, strike out on his own, and go to a land as yet unnamed. Then, when Abram did what God asked and went to the new land, the region of Canaan, he found others were already inhabiting it. Imagine if you were told to up and move to a new home, and when you arrived found somebody else in the house who had no intention of leaving. For Abram, following God’s plan required very great faith.

That was all right, because God gave Abram great faith. God’s promise allowed Abram to face the road ahead and overcome fear. God’s promise to Abram is so beautiful it rings out like poetry. “I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing. I will bless those who bless you, and the one who curses you I will curse; and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (Genesis 12:2-3).

Abram didn’t have hotel reservations when he left Haran. He had no lease papers for an apartment and certainly had not closed a deal on a house in the new destination. As a matter of fact, all through his life Abram would live in tents in Canaan. He had camels and herds, but the only piece of real estate he ever owned was a burial plot he later bought from the Hittites (Genesis 23). Yet in reality, Abram had something much more solid than any stone foundation under a house. He had the rock-solid promise of God. The culmination of that promise was that all peoples on earth would be blessed through Abram and his offspring, particularly through one descendant who would be the world’s Messiah. We now know that Messiah as Jesus Christ. The magnitude of God’s promise enabled Abram to follow God in faith, even if all the specifics weren’t laid out for him. Thus, when Abram arrived in the promised land and found other people already living there, he did not need to worry. The Lord assured him again: “To your offspring I will give this land” (Genesis 12:7). So, rather than fretting and worrying, Abram built altars to the LORD and worshiped him (Genesis 12:7,8).

You and I are the children of Abraham. (The LORD extended Abram’s name to Abraham, meaning “the father of many.”) Scripture calls us children of the promise given to Abraham (Galatians 4:28). All believers in the LORD, the Savior, are united by faith in the God of such great promises (cf. Galatians 3:7). We have seen what Abraham never got a chance to see—every one of the promises made to him was fulfilled. His descendants did inherit the land. His family became a prominent nation. His ancestry provided the human line for Jesus the Savior—the one through whom all peoples on earth have been blessed. Abram’s worship, his following God in faith, was not in vain. Neither is our faith in vain.

When the LORD calls us to follow him, what he asks of us is formidable. We are to love the LORD our God, with all our heart, and all our soul, and all our mind, and all our strength (Mark 12:30). We are to follow him completely, in any direction he may ask us to go. Sometimes that can be overwhelming. For instance, when a moving truck shows up in front of your residence because you need to change your occupation, change location, start over again with a new direction in life. Or the path you walk may be one you must walk haltingly, hobbling along, because a disease or accident has wracked your body or crippled your legs. Or the road God asks you to go may be lonely because it is a spiritually committed direction Instead of the easier worldly choices of those around you. Following in faith, walking after God, may mean you’re passed over for promotions or career improvements because you’re not as cutthroat in business as others, and they get ahead more than you. The journey through this world may find you laying your wife or husband or child or parent in a grave.

The story of our lives is full of upheavals and challenges, bends in the road, temptations and pressures. We are left wondering what comes next. Often we are afraid—very afraid. That’s normal for us. Our dear Lord knows we struggle with fear as we go through life and strive to follow him. Think of how many times Jesus reassured his disciples, saying, “Fear not!” and reminding them of his promises. And that was when they had him physically present with them. How much more we will be prone to fear when we face storms and changing winds in our lives, without seeing Jesus right there in the boat with us!

Actually, he is always in the boat with us—something we can’t see with our physical eyes, but do see with eyes of faith. Our Lord does not ask anything of us for which he does not also empower us. Allow me to remind you of some of Scripture’s promises, which enable us to keep going through life’s many moves and misdirections.

God says, “I am with you and will keep you wherever you go. … I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you” (Genesis 28:15).
“After you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, support, strengthen, and establish you” (1 Peter 5:10).
“God is faithful, and he will not let you be tested beyond your strength, but with the testing, he will also provide the way out so that you may be able to endure it” (1 Corinthians 10:13).
“Be strong and courageous; do not be frightened or dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go” (Joshua 1:9).
“Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying: this is the way, walk in it” (Isaiah 30:21 NIV). “I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my victorious right hand” (Isaiah 41:10). “Even to your old age and gray hairs. I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you. I will sustain you and I will rescue you” (Isaiah 46:4).

Those are promises that God gives to you as his people. And those are just some of his promises. Walking through life, following God, would be a pathway filled with fear—except for God’s promises. His promises embolden us. By the promises of God, we walk in faith, overcoming fear, for the LORD is with us. He is protecting and saving us every step we take, anywhere we go. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob is still our God; the Lord Almighty is our refuge (cf. Psalm 46). As he did for Abram, the LORD our Savior will lead us also—onward through our lives on this earth, and, ultimately, into the promised land of “many mansions” that he has in store for us beyond (cf. John 14:2 KJV).

Jun

2023

Thoughts for Trinity Sunday

“Trust in Yahweh with all your heart, and don’t lean on your own understanding” (Proverbs 3:5, World English Bible).

We trust in a God who goes beyond understanding

by David Sellnow

Image by jette55 from Pixabay

There is an ancient Christian creed that says, “We worship one God in three persons, and three persons in one God,” that “the Father is eternal, the Son eternal, the Holy Spirit eternal. Yet they are not three eternals, but one eternal Lord God” (The Athanasian Creed). Can you explain that? That makes no sense humanly speaking, mathematically or logically. Yet we declare it to be true.

The conundrum of the Trinity is just one of the many secrets of God. Consider Jesus Christ himself. Jesus is Son of God and Son of Man. In Christ all the fullness of God is present in a human body, the Bible says (cf. Colossians, 2:9). Can you explain how that is possible, that God became human and lived among us? Incredible, isn’t it? Yet it is also true.

Consider the wonders God has done. Out of nothing, God made everything. He called the universe into being. Can you scientifically account for the intricacies of the created order? The most brilliant scientific minds continue to search and study such questions. God’s word asserts that his divine hand is behind it all. To quote a psalmist: “Heaven is declaring God’s glory; the sky is proclaiming his handiwork. … His lightning lights up the world … and all nations have seen his glory” (Psalm 19:1; Psalm 97:4,6, Common English Bible).

God tells us that he will one day resurrect our bodies from the grave. Dead tissue will come back to life. Scattered ashes and decomposed bones will rise up again as the same people who once lived in these bodies. Is that something you can devise and do at home? If we understood how resurrection could happen, surely somebody would be building a life-reviving business right now. But we don’t rationally comprehend such things. The miracles and mysteries of God are beyond what we can humanly conceive or do. It’s like Elihu told Job in days of old: “Surely, God is great. … My heart trembles and leaps out of its place” (Job 36:26, 37:1).

We believe in a God who goes beyond understanding. That is good–because where our understanding is limited, God is unlimited. His ways are higher than our ways (Isaiah 55:9). Even the revered King Solomon, who was renowned throughout the world for his wisdom, readily admitted his inadequacy before God. It is Solomon who tells us: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not rely on your own insight” (Proverbs 3:5). Solomon’s own life story exemplified how following his own instincts became a meaningless “chasing after the wind” (Ecclesiastes 2:11). He learned that apart from God, no one could enjoy life or have what they need (Ecclesiastes 2:25).

When we ponder God’s triune nature, we may offer analogies like water, ice, and steam (the same substance in three different forms). However, none of our illustrations do justice to the greatness of God’s being. I once tried my own illustration for a children’s sermon. I asked three of the youngsters in church to come forward, and I said I was going to combine them into one person. Then I put my arms around all three of them in a bear hug and squeezed and squeezed. They laughed, but of course, they could not all be one in essence together. Yet God tells us that he is Father, Son, and Spirit, each distinct, and yet all three unified as one together in the divine Being.

If we try to put God into a framework that fits our way of thinking, then as the author J.B. Phillips said, we’ve made God too small. As Phillips wrote, the immensely broad sweep of the Creator’s activity, the astonishing complexity of his mind’s processes (which science labors to uncover), the vast sea of what we see as God’s handiwork–all this is only a small portion of who God is. We have only a glimpse of his awesomeness in the small corner of the universe in which we human beings live and move and have our being.

We accept the greatness of God and all his miraculous doings on faith. Faith confesses that we live and move and have our being in God (Acts 17:28), though we can’t see him. “Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1). We have not seen God, nor can we comprehend everything about him, yet we believe and trust in him with all our hearts.

And God is worthy of being trusted. He is the LORD, Yahweh or Jehovah, whose name means “He is.” He just is, always the same, always existing, always the Lord. From everlasting to everlasting, he is God (Psalm 90:2). The number of his years is past finding out (Job 36:26). He fills heaven and earth (Jeremiah 23:24). He rides on the wings of the wind (Psalm 104:2,3). He is beyond our reach and exalted in power (Job 37:23). He does great things beyond our grasp (Job 37:5). His greatness no one can fathom (Psalm 145:3).

I could go on and on with more quotes from Scripture. The Lord is amazing in every way. An English translation of the ancient creed I mentioned before said it with style: “The Father incomprehensible, the Son incomprehensible, and the Holy Spirit incomprehensible; and yet not three incomprehensibles, but one incomprehensible.” God is incomprehensible–infinite, uncreated, eternal, almighty. He is the Lord. Therefore, we trust in him–and our trust is not misplaced.

Solomon’s proverb pictures the contrast between trusting in God vs. relying on one’s own brainpower with an intriguing choice of Hebrew words. In English, we read, “Trust in Yahweh with all your heart, and don’t lean on your own understanding” (Proverbs 3:5 WEB). The idea in the Hebrew word “SHa’aN,” (שָׁעַן) means to lean on something like you’d lean on a cane or walking stick. It holds you up, but barely. It’s a crutch that lets you limp along. On the other hand, for the Hebrew expression describing “trust in” the Lord, Solomon used another word: BaTaKH ( בְּטַ֣ח). It means to feel safe and fully confident, to have an unshakeable sense of security. To picture this, think of a young child finding security in her father’s or mother’s arms. Envision a sick or injured toddler, who is unable to understand the hurt. Still, she feels safe in her parent’s embrace. She will fall asleep there, calm and reassured. That’s what trusting God is like. And God is our Father. He is in control and can cure all ills. He is a very real help and refuge to us at all times, able to remove our fears (cf. Psalm 46). What a blessing to be held up and carried in his everlasting arms (cf. Deuteronomy 33:27)! We need not wobble along with only our own intelligence or ability to prop us up.

We recognize that God “dwells in unapproachable light” and “no one has ever seen or can see” him (1 Timothy 6:16). Yet while God is unapproachable, unimaginable, in so many ways, he does not wish to remain unknown to us or unseen by us. He wants us to be able to stand before his throne and see his face (Revelation 22:4), to know fully and see face-to-face the glory that is his (1 Corinthians 13:12). To that end, he provided a way for us to know him and come to him. While “no one has ever seen God, It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made him known” (John 1:18). That, ultimately, is the basis for our trust in the Lord. We trust in God not because it makes such good sense or we understand every detail about eternity. We trust in him because he’s shown us such great love and safeguards our souls.

Faith consists not in trying to hold ourselves up with the crutch of our own understanding, but relying fully on the strong rock who is God, trusting in the Savior God provided (Jesus), believing because the Spirit has convinced us all this is true. That’s all we really need to understand. We know Jesus, and Jesus is sufficient to meet all our needs (Hebrews 7:26). Jesus bridges the gap between us and God. The peace which God gives us goes beyond all understanding, and keeps our hearts and minds safe in Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:7). We rest assured when we are resting in God and his promises.

Let me add just one more thing as we conclude this meditation. Confessing that God goes beyond our understanding doesn’t mean we stop using our understanding—our minds and all the other good gifts with which God has blessed us. Trusting in the Lord doesn’t mean we go through life saying, “God knows what’s best for me, so I’ll wait for a sign from heaven”–about what job or career path to pursue, or what decisions to make. We use our minds and the skills God has given us. We take stock of ourselves, assess the gifts and abilities God has given us and the opportunities set before us, and we make decisions. Trusting in the Lord and not leaning on human understanding doesn’t mean that when we get sick, we’ll decline seeing a doctor and just say, “I’ll pray about this, because I know God can heal me.” We will pray, but most certainly also will make use of help and resources available to us in God’s created world. All the while, we know that even if modern medicine cannot cure us, not even death can separate us from the love of God in Jesus Christ our Lord (cf. Romans 8:38,39).

Photo by Jessica Lewis Creative: https://www.pexels.com/photo/black-mug-with-religious-text-from-holy-bible-4200823/

Our God has created us with much ability, much understanding, many resources and tools. We will use all those things to navigate our lives as best we can. But as people of faith, we also have this underlying confidence: A loving God who is far greater than us is always with us. When life hits us with challenges bigger than we can handle, when we can’t answer all the questions and dilemmas of our world, when death is on our doorstep or takes loved ones from us, when we are at our wit’s end … we still have our God, our heavenly Father, holding out his arms to fold us into his embrace. We still have our Brother, our Savior, Jesus, who gave his life for us and gives us life eternally with him. We still have our encourager, our Advocate (John 14:26), the Holy Spirit, who fills up our hearts and enables us to live with hope. Dear friends, fellow believers, we have peace of mind and peace of heart in knowing God. And the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit will be with you, always (cf. 2 Corinthians 13:7).

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.

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.

Thoughts in remembrance of 9/11

Responding to evil and trouble in this world

A meditation concerning Psalm 34

God is with us through the storms

An Advent Promise—and Warning

The Sun of Righteousness is Rising

The story of Tom and Tina

The moral of the story:

A lesson from Abram & Sarai

Faith follows God, overcoming fear

We trust in a God who goes beyond understanding

A meditation focused on Psalm 129

PATIENCE

The Quiet Power of God’s Presence

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