lost sheep

Rest is a precious commodity for me. Physical rest isn’t that hard to find – I have my share of evenings on the couch. But in my intellectual life, which is dominant for me, I invest a lot of effort in finding ways to slow my thoughts and distract myself. My mind is always wrestling with something, and with some topics that wrestling can easily become brooding. And when it’s time to sleep, or give my focus to the people around me, it can take real effort to let go of those thoughts and take a mental break.

My brain doesn't rest. It wonders and wanders and ponders. It makes connections and then speculates on ramifications. It's omnivorous - it will chew on anything, and assumes an underlying philosophical reason for everything

All my adult life I’ve wondered why I’m that way. I don’t know of anyone else who is. Some people, when you ask what they’re thinking, answer, “Nothing,” and you can tell it’s true. I never know how to answer that question because it would take 10 minutes to explain.

All that leads to an “Aha!” moment I had this morning reading from Jeremiah 50. Verse 6 says this: "My people have been lost sheep; their shepherds have led them astray and caused them to roam on the mountains. They wandered over mountain and hill and forgot their own resting place.”

If there was ever a sentence that describes my brain at bedtime, that last one is it. My thoughts ramble all over the landscape, completely forgetting its bedtime. But that sentence is also an explanation. Maybe my brain is awhirl because I’ve forgotten truly what gives me rest.

It’s likely that if I thought more about God’s promises and less about the world’s problems, I’d find more peace. It’s probable that if I focused more on the cross I’d see less of the evil. I’m sure if I just remember who died for me I’d also remember who lives for me.

It seems like those things would make a big difference. I know from experience that where God is, there is peace and rest. So why don’t my thoughts go there?

good for me

Sometimes it’s hard to live for God in this world. Intellectually I know all the reasons I should, and I like to think my heart goes along. But day to day, man, it can be tough. So much seems off limits. So much seems to invite abuse.

The whole book of Jeremiah is a long cautionary tale of what happens when God’s people choose the world over God’s way. The outcome then was to lose everything, to be carted away into exile. To be subject to every whim of the pagans.

I’ve been struck this summer by the similarity between God’s people in exile in Babylon and his people living now in an increasingly post-Christian society in America, or in post-Christian Europe. Where we once lived in as a nation that followed God, we now find ourselves in a culture with many other gods. 

I wonder sometimes if the accelerated moral decay, and the accompanying assault on the church, isn’t what happens when the Christians flirt so outrageously with the world. There’s a place somewhere where scripture says God gave sinners over to their own sin, to be mastered by it. Is that what’s happening to us?

But there is hope. For the Jews of Jeremiah’s day, there was this promise, in Jeremiah 32:38-41. “They will be my people, and I will be their God. I will give them singleness of heart and action, so that they will always fear me and that all will then go well for them and for their children after them. I will make an everlasting covenant with them: I will never stop doing good to them, and I will inspire them to fear me, so that they will never turn away from me. I will rejoice in doing them good and will assuredly plant them in this land with all my heart and soul.”

When this exile has taught you to obey me, God says, when you have been forged by this adversity into the shape I want you to have, life is going to be good. In fact, God promises never to stop doing good for his people, to rejoice in doing good.

What words of comfort! What encouragement to live courageously and obediently in these times! The end is assured, even though what’s to come looks daunting. But it isn’t me against the world, it’s God and me against the world. That means the world doesn’t stand a chance.

what I deserve

There are some words that simultaneously encourage and instill fear. For me, “you’ll get what you deserve” are words like that. I’d like to think I deserve a promotion, a raise, new stuff. The fact is, I probably deserve a swift kick in the caboose.

This morning, the prophet Jeremiah reminds me that this is an important topic. Jeremiah 32:18-19 reads, “Great and mighty God, whose name is the Lord Almighty, great are your purposes and mighty are your deeds. Your eyes are open to the ways of all mankind; you reward each person according to their conduct and as their deeds deserve.”

There’s a core problem in these verses for me and for all people: it won’t be my justifications or impassioned defense of my intentions that decides what I get. It will be my deeds. My record. All those things I did or didn’t do, stripped of their good intentions, measured not against my internal moral map but against God’s own holy standard.

That’s troubling, because my normal response when I find myself in trouble is, “Let me explain.” I think if people just would see things through my eyes they’d understand that my motives mitigate my performance. But God’s eyes, Jeremiah says, are open to my ways. He knows my inmost being, including all the lies I tell myself.

Are there enough good deeds to throw on the balance to outweigh the bad? I’d like to think so, but I’d hate to put it to the test.

Fortunately, there is grace. There is the cross. And in the end, when God evaluates my deeds, there’s only one that will decide: did I or did I not follow Jesus? If not, then nothing else I’ve done will be good enough. But if I have, then nothing else I’ve done matters. If I belong to Jesus, God sees his perfection in place of my tawdry record. And then, praise Jesus, I inherit heaven.

peace and prosperity

In this week when one political convention is over and the second one is in full swing, I find Jeremiah’s account of the exile to Babylon fascinating. It sounds to me like, no matter what happens in the general election, Christians are going to have an increasingly hard time of it in this country.

I’m reminded that no country on this earth is my promised land. In every spiritual sense, I’m living in exile, just waiting to go home. With that perspective, God’s instructions to his people in Jeremiah 29:4-7 are striking.

“This is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says to all those I carried into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: ‘Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease. Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.'"

God called his people at that time to be good citizens of their land of exile as well as obedient servants to him. It was a difficult call. The Babylonians would try to assimilate these new people into their culture. They would reward those who abandoned the faith; there would be attempted pogroms and talk of genocide. Yet God told them to seek the peace and prosperity of the city of Babylon.

It brings home to me two things. First, I was greatly blessed to live most of my adult life in a country that honored God. I only truly appreciate that blessing now that we seem to be moving into post-Christianity.

Second, though, God doesn’t excuse me from being the best citizen I can be even if my government is a ungodly one. There’s going to be tension between my call to stay faithful to God and some of the things my government stands for, but I have to still work as best I can for the wellbeing of this nation.

There’s a promise, though, in Jeremiah 29:10-11 "When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will come to you and fulfill my good promise to bring you back to this place. For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

God’s plans will be good for me, if I just follow his instructions. That’s something rock-solid I can hold onto.

blind nationalism

Since I spent 25 years as an Army Guardsman, people assume I’m a passionate patriot. I think I’m a patriot, but it sometimes surprises people that I don’t share their passion.

You see, most people who’ve never served see soldiers either as jackbooted fascist thugs or heroes. The truth is, there are some of both, but most of us are neither. Most of us are just decent people trying to do a hard job as well as we can. But, much as I love the Army and love America, I also know that many soldiers and some Americans are unprincipled jerks.

There’s danger in reacting as the Judeans did when Jeremiah prophesied of the exile to Babylon. Jeremiah 26:8-9 tells us, “But as soon as Jeremiah finished telling all the people everything the Lord had commanded him to say, the priests, the prophets and all the people seized him and said, ‘You must die! Why do you prophesy in the Lord's name that this house will be like Shiloh and this city will be desolate and deserted?’" Pointing out ugly truths where they exist isn’t disloyal, especially if they’re God’s truths.

Sometimes we’re the ones who are wrong. Sometimes we really act like self-centered imperialists dictating our terms to smaller countries who need us. Sometimes we support despots and tyrants. Sometimes we really believe things like “America First,” this idea that the purpose of American might is to make Americans rich and safe and who cares about the rest of the world.

Most of the soldiers I knew didn’t think that way. Most believe that the strongest kid on the block should be the one to protect the little kids and deal with the bullies. Most wonder why we didn’t do something about the genocide in Rwanda a decade ago. Most wonder how we can permit our Afghan allies to commit sex crimes against children in order not to rock the boat. Most think that sometimes America could do with a little less when we already have so much more than everyone else. And most have seen firsthand that sometimes we do the wrong thing.

I think in that way my soldier friends and I are closer to Jeremiah than the Judeans who wanted to kill him. We love our homeland, but our patriotism is tempered with the realization that we can’t just give blind support and approval to our cops and soldiers and candidates. And what’s good for us shouldn’t be the only basis for making choices.

I’m praying again for the courage to speak what I see as truth. The current definition of what will “make America great again” doesn’t match what I see in scripture. The argument to vote for the lesser of two evils doesn’t either – where in the Bible is that justification ever used? I’m baffled that so many Christians deny the reality of God’s words or argue that they need to be bent to fit the real world.

Much as I love my country, I really want to avoid being that prophet who tells the people what their itching ears want to hear. 

clay pots

It’s a jarring reminder of God’s sovereignty and my purpose. Jer 18:1-6 says “This is the word that came to Jeremiah from the Lord: "Go down to the potter's house, and there I will give you my message." So I went down to the potter's house, and I saw him working at the wheel. But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him.
Then the word of the Lord came to me. He said, "Can I not do with you, Israel, as this potter does?" declares the Lord.”

The two salient points of this prophesy by Jeremiah are that God controls what happens to me, and that He will do what he needs to do to ensure that I meet his purposes. Those are extremely counter-cultural ideas for Americans, who are taught from early childhood about individual rights, chief among them our right to choose.

I want to be my own potter. I visualize myself shaping my own life, setting my goals, pursuing my dreams. I’m hard at work constructing what I think an ideal life is.

But I’m a pot, not a potter, and the one who made me did so for a purpose. And, these verses remind me, if my shape turns out wrong for that purpose, he’ll mash me back into a lump and start over. I don’t think that’s a process I’ll enjoy.

At first the idea makes me resentful – I picture something drastic like cancer or loss of job to get my attention, although it could be something as non-dramatic as daily boredom – because I think I should get some say. But then I realize that it’s the most loving thing God could do for me. To let me spend all my efforts in life on something that has no value would be cruel. Administering an on-the-spot correction, as my sergeants used to call it, is far kinder.

It brings up the question of what my shape should look like. What kind of pot meets God’s purposes? By far the best life will come from not having to be reshaped at all.

roots

There's a question I ask myself a lot: where's the fruit? What can I point to that I did today that I can rightfully say is the fruit of living faithfully?

Some days there's a lot I can point to. There are acts of service, acts of faith, acts of love. Some days are characterized by a vibrant prayer dialogue with God. Sometimes I'm moved to generosity.

But sometimes I can't come up with anything. I wonder why it is that sometimes my life is like the olive tree that Jesus refers to, the one that will be cut down and burned because without fruit it's useless.

And, to be completely honest, there are periods of my life when I stop asking the question. This has been one of those times, until this morning. This morning I read Jeremiah 17:7 “But blessed is the one who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. They will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit.”

I was immediately reminded of my old question, in a way that simultaneously convicted me and gave me hope. I was convicted because, in contrast to the image of a tree that never fails to bear fruit, I sometimes do fail. But I get hope from the direct connection to the obvious reason - the solution is explained so clearly not even I could miss it.

To bear fruit, I need to trust in the Lord, to put my confidence in him. That's the never-failing source of fruit-bearing. If my roots are sunk deeply in the fertile soil of God's love and providence, the fruit will be there.

It's an interesting image. We planted new trees in our yard a few weeks ago, and have had the daily chore of making sure they get enough water. We have to do that because they have a very un-developed root structure. Someday, after we've nursed them through a few seasons, their roots will go deep and we won't have to take so much care that they don't dry out.

My faith is far beyond the baby stage, but it's not so well developed that I don't need some extra watering once in a while. But I know that in this I want what God wants, that I have a rock-solid faith and the fruit to go with it.

scarecrows

I’m trying to picture it: I’m in trouble – maybe someone I love is badly ill, maybe I’m about to lose my job – and I know there’s nothing I can do. So I go out to the cucumber field, where a scarecrow hangs on a pole, and I say, “Mr. Scarecrow, I need to be saved. I need help. Could you please heal my wife? Could you change my boss’s mind?” 

That’s the ridiculous picture Jeremiah paints in Jeremiah 10:3 “For the practices of the peoples are worthless; they cut a tree out of the forest, and a craftsman shapes it with his chisel. They adorn it with silver and gold; they fasten it with hammer and nails so it will not totter. Like a scarecrow in a cucumber field, their idols cannot speak; they must be carried because they cannot walk. Do not fear them; they can do no harm nor can they do any good.”

“Scarecrow in a cucumber field” is such a great phrase. It immediately communicates the complete futility of idolatry. So I laugh at those foolish Israelites who would do such a stupid thing.

And then I realize that when my loved ones get sick, I pray, but usually after we’ve seen a doctor, have a diagnosis and prognosis, and have bought some drugs. When I’m concerned at work, I go talk to my boss before I talk to God.

Truthfully, I often put my faith in science and money and my own persuasive skills. God is too often my last resort. So, if an idol is something I put faith in instead of God, I maybe do have some idols. I’m another one of those fools trudging to the cucumber patch to kneel in front of a scarecrow.

The world calls my faith superstition. But that image of the scarecrow, with its leering burlap head stuffed with straw, with crossed stitches for eyes, as an object of worship brings home how truly a belief in anything else is superstitious. 

I want to be done with that. I want to honor the God who’s been so faithful and patient with me; I want to acknowledge him as the source of every good thing. But I find it isn’t natural. Why not? That’s something I need to ponder.

worthless

People can be pretty prickly about being disrespected. Everyone from street punks to CEOs feels entitled to respect, and it is a good principle to follow to treat everyone respectfully.

But why, really, am I worthy of respect? What is it about me that makes me feel others should treat me with deference? In the end, if what I read this morning is true, whatever value I have is directly related to how closely I follow God.

Here it is, in God’s own words, as recorded in Jeremiah 2:5-6 “This is what the Lord says: ‘What fault did your ancestors find in me, that they strayed so far from me? They followed worthless idols and became worthless themselves. They did not ask, “Where is the Lord, who brought us up out of Egypt and led us through the barren wilderness, through a land of deserts and ravines, a land of drought and utter darkness, a land where no one travels and no one lives?”’”

If they became worthless by following worthless idols, the same logic suggests that I gain worth or value by following God. Is there another way to gain worth? I can’t recall anything else from scripture. My value comes from being an image-bearer of God; the better I reflect him, the more value I have.

When I try to find value in my own life, either in my accomplishments or my stuff or my connections, then I’m wrong two ways, according to verse 13 of the same chapter. In that verse God says, "My people have committed two sins: They have forsaken me, the spring of living water, and have dug their own cisterns, broken cisterns that cannot hold water.”

It’s hard to think of anything more worthless than a cistern that won’t have water. At best cisterns hold stagnant water, compared to the fresh flowing water from the living spring. But a broken cistern will be dry and empty, or maybe covered with damp muck at the bottom.

What a potent image of how much I’m worth without God! It’s worth keeping in mind, especially when I start feeling proud of myself, or thinking others should respect me. I should only care that they respect God, whose image I should strive to reflect.

not too short

There's a thing that sportscasters say when announcing football. Sometimes, when a receiver can see a tackler closing in, he'll choose protect himself rather than really extend going after the ball. Some announcers call this getting alligator arms - he's not reaching, he has short arms. It's a comment that suggests a lack of bravery.

I thought of that this morning while reading in Isaiah 59. Verse 1 says, "Surely the arm of the Lord is not too short to save, nor his ear too dull to hear." I think this verse was meant to convey that God is big enough to save, but the reference to short arms, with the connotation in football of reluctance to extend oneself, communicated to me this morning that he is also willing.

That's a phrase from the Army - willing and able. I never doubt that God is able to save, but I do sometimes wonder why he would be willing to.

I end up reflecting on the fact that too often I project myself onto God, that I assume that because sometimes I’m reluctant to do something, God must sometimes feel that way too. In fact, I’m often reluctant in two areas: obedience to God, and service to his people. Since that’s true, it would be natural for God to look at me and think, “Well, I could save him, but I don’t really want to.”

But, thanks to Jesus, God wants to save me, not only in the sense of salvation from my sins, but also in the sense of saving me from the traps and snares of this world. I have only to ask – his ear, as this verse also says, is not too dull, he will hear – and he responds.

It’s embarrassing to think that this truth I know so well, that God hears and is willing and able to save, doesn’t really define my day-to-day reality. I talk to other people, I trust myself to work things out. I think of God seldom.

Maybe that’s why life so often seems hard.

mere mortals

Words are weapons, or at least they can be. You don’t have to look very far anymore to find someone lashing out with words, often online, sometimes in person. The children’s saying, “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me” turns out not to be true. If only.

Yet God encourages me to think it is true. In Isaiah 51:7-8 he says, "Hear me, you who know what is right, you people who have taken my instruction to heart: Do not fear the reproach of mere mortals or be terrified by their insults. For the moth will eat them up like a garment; the worm will devour them like wool. But my righteousness will last forever, my salvation through all generations."

I like to say that I don’t care what people say about me, but the truth is, I do. I’d prefer to be liked. I like to be complimented. I don’t like being ridiculed or corrected or disrespected. I care enough that it can change what I do.

I do fear reproach from people I care about, like my wife, or my boss. And while I can’t recall being terrified by insults, I can sure get mad. In those ways, what people say about me does control me.

God reminds me this morning that those people won’t be here forever, but he will, in all his righteousness. I can choose to forget the demands of righteousness and respond to the hurtful words, or worse yet, not do something because I fear them. But that’s short-sighted. When I do that I forget the other thing these verses say lasts forever: salvation.

Mean people can’t compromise my future by what they say. But I can compromise my future by how I react. Giving people undue influence over me is just a bad choice all around.

if only

There are two really sad words I read this morning in Isaiah 48: “if only.” Those are the words of God to his chosen people.

Read them, in verses 18 and 19. God says, “If only you had paid attention to my commands, your peace would have been like a river, your well-being like the waves of the sea. Your descendants would have been like the sand, your children like its numberless grains; their name would never be blotted out nor destroyed from before me.”

Oh, what might have been! All the distress and misery of constant warfare, the sieges of Jerusalem, the famines and droughts, the exile to Babylon, all of these judgments from God, didn’t have to be. God didn’t want that for his people, but he couldn’t get them to listen.

I don’t want that to be me. I want the peace like a river, always flowing through my life, always refreshed by some unseen source, always refreshing me. I want waves of wellbeing washing up into my life, as constant as the ocean. I want blessings on my family, for generations to come.

As with everything in life, God tells me how. God says to me what he said to the Israelites. He says all I have to do is pay attention to his commands.

That sounds like I can earn peace and well-being with my works, but I have to remember that God’s commands are all about a relationship with Him. It’s about loving and respecting him. It’s about acknowledging that as my maker and this world’s creator he knows what’s best for me. It’s not the specific actions he commands, but the relationship they will create.

And I know it to be true from my own experience: when I use those commands as my guide to a good relationship with God, I have peace and well-being. It works. Which means that, as with the Israelites, it’s my own fault when my life isn’t that way.

consuming fire

There’s something really bad in store for bad people.

It seems like they have their way now, but listen to what God says in Isaiah 30:30-33. “The Lord will cause people to hear his majestic voice and will make them see his arm coming down with raging anger and consuming fire, with cloudburst, thunderstorm and hail. The voice of the Lord will shatter Assyria; with his rod he will strike them down. Every stroke the Lord lays on them with his punishing club will be to the music of timbrels and harps, as he fights them in battle with the blows of his arm. Topheth has long been prepared; it has been made ready for the king. Its fire pit has been made deep and wide, with an abundance of fire and wood; the breath of the Lord, like a stream of burning sulfur, sets it ablaze.”

I don’t like passages like this. It seems too much; the violence and ongoing, torturous suffering seem out of place. Even for my worst enemies, I wouldn’t want this.

But this is how much God hates sin. And this is what all of us in this sinful world deserve. God in his perfect holiness cannot abide the affront of all our deliberate wrongdoing. He will not; just because he is patient now, to give us a chance to repent, that doesn’t mean the world gets a free pass.

One day, the Lord will lay into them with his punishing club, as this passage describes, to the sound of music. This cleansing will almost be an act of worship, a thing accompanied by the harps of heaven. It will be right and good, even though it seems so bad.

It’s scary, but it fills me again with gratitude that Jesus took all that anger for me. Jesus died the torturous death so I don’t have to. When God comes in judgment, I’ll be spared for Jesus’ sake.

I’m not grateful enough for that, because I don’t think about it as much as I should. And I don’t take the business of winning souls seriously enough because I don’t keep in mind what will happen to the ones who aren’t saved.

It’s so easy to live life, and in the process forget that all my business isn’t what life is about. My eternity is at stake, and so is everyone else’s. I can’t be the Nero who fiddles while the whole world burns.

wonderful plan

God designed everything. I know that, but sometimes I think I don’t really understand it.

I tend to think of God creating nature. I think of him making the world at Adam lived in, with all the plants and animals. But I sometimes think that there are a lot of discoveries, a lot of things we know how to do now, that we came up with ourselves.

I’m rethinking that after reading from Isaiah 28. There’s a passage in the middle of this chapter that describes a farmer doing his work, plowing and leveling the surface, sowing his seeds, caring for the crop. Then it says, in verses 26 to 29, “His God instructs him and teaches him the right way. Caraway is not threshed with a sledge, nor is the wheel of a cart rolled over cumin; caraway is beaten out with a rod, and cumin with a stick. Grain must be ground to make bread; so one does not go on threshing it forever. The wheels of a threshing cart may be rolled over it, but one does not use horses to grind grain. All this also comes from the Lord Almighty, whose plan is wonderful, whose wisdom is magnificent.”

If God worked out the best ways to farm and showed them to us, or led us to discover them, then it follows that this pattern of hidden knowledge that we seek out is one way God reveals himself. All of scientific discovery and innovative engineering is a continuation of his teaching.

That means, since God filled the earth with minerals and chemicals, and designed all the principles of physics, and made us with inquiring minds and a desire to know the truth about the world, that skyscrapers and interstate highways and gigantic ships are just as much his creation as trees and birds.

God created all of it. Every man-made thing follows God’s laws as surely as if he handed the plans directly, like he did with Noah’s ark and the first temple of Israel.

All good things come from God. When we make good things, we honor God and reflect his image. When we make evil things, we simply distort something good God already designed.

Satan is a destroyer; he never created anything. It’s worth remembering that when I begin to admire the ingenuity of humans. It’s because we’re made in God’s image.

fruit bearing

Life can be chaotic. My work days are characterized by what I call pop-ups, those problems that come out of nowhere and have to be dealt with immediately. At home, between wife and children and grandchildren and parents, it seems there’s always something on the calendar, and the schedule is always changing. And then there’s the process of contractors and the weather and my own work trying to get our new place into shape. It’s engaging and sometimes exciting, but it isn’t very often peaceful.

That’s probably why Isaiah 26:3 caught my eye this morning: “You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast, because they trust in you.” There’s a promise in this verse of something that I feel I often lack.

When I mulled it over, though, it seemed to me that this isn’t a promise of a quiet, serene life. Instead, God is telling me that when I look to him, there won’t be stress. My emotions can stay peaceful in the midst of the chaos, because there’s no worry about the future.

I wondered how I might cultivate that kind of constant trust, and then in the next chapter Isaiah gave me a wonderful image to help. In 27:2-3, he wrote, “‘Sing about a fruitful vineyard: I, the Lord, watch over it; I water it continually. I guard it day and night so that no one may harm it.’”

Wow, I thought, there it is. God nurtures, God protects, God watches over me. All I have to do is bear fruit. In fact, God is working to eliminate anything that might keep me from bearing fruit.

So, my devotions this morning did what they’re supposed to do and sometimes don’t: they launched a day that feels different. It feels more intentional, less chaotic. It feels like the important thing isn’t what I get done, but that I keep myself in that place of trust and protection. It’s a different goal to focus on, but I think it will make a lot of difference.

settled

Relationships often seem like a lot of work. Oh, I value them, but they seem so messy. There’s so much history, so many emotions. Most of my feelings about relationships involve some measure of guilt - it seems like I’ve let most people down somewhere along the line. I’m not as good a father and husband and son and friend as I’d like to be.

That’s especially true of my relationship with God. There is no person that I ignore more, offend more, disappoint more than I do God. Sometimes I cringe at the thought of prayer because I know where things stand between us.

That’s why I found Isaiah 1:18 so comforting this morning. That verse reads, "’Come now, let us settle the matter,’ says the Lord. ‘Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.’”

I love this invitation from God to settle things. It acknowledges first of all that things aren’t right. I’ve been petulant, whiny, grumpy, distant. I’ve broken promises and done things I know God hates. God knows this as well as I do, but instead waiting for me to make amends, he just says, “Come.” 

And before I even do that, he promises resolution. He offers forgiveness. He says I’ll be as pure as Jesus in his eyes. How can he say that, before we even begin negotiations or making amends?

He can because he doesn’t expect amends. There’s no way amends could make things right. The only thing God wants is that I come. The fact that I acknowledge my sin and my need is the very thing that gains me the benefit of Christ’s blood.

What a relief! If only my human relationships worked like this - no matter how badly messed up, all I would have to do is make a phone call and all would be forgiven. But maybe the guilt I feel about my earthly relationships is what I need to truly feel grateful about grace. Something more to think about.

keep at it

One of the things about life is that it seldom goes according to plan. I may be too conscious of that fact - I tend to count on disruption, which can drive Dawn crazy. She expects people to be nice, the weather to be good, travel to go smoothly, everything to be in on time, things to work out. And, for her, most of the time they do.

My plans allow time for road construction, anticipate people not cooperating, figure on a rain delay here or there. Things go wrong. It seems like something always throws a little gravel in the gears. I always add in time for some badness, which means often we spend an extra hour at the airport.

Ecc 10:10 seems to speak to that. It says, “If the ax is dull and its edge unsharpened, more strength is needed, but skill will bring success.”

The Teacher was speaking about life, so my first thought was this is a good admonishment to persevere. When things aren’t as easy as I thought they would be, I shouldn’t use that as an excuse not to keep at it. Biking in the wind is harder, but doable. Writing with interruptions is harder, but doable. Conditions may not be favorable, but that just demands a little more skill and focus to get the thing done.

Scripture, though, is all about my relationship with God. It tells me how to be a good son. So my next thought was that being obedient is almost always met with challenges from the world. There’s a lot working against my desire to live faithfully. Is the Teacher trying to tell me that when it comes to my faith life, I need to develop the strength to push through resistance?

Skill will bring success, it says. What kind of faith skills will bring successful obedience? Mostly I think of faith habits - prayer, reading, meditation. Skills? Discernment, maybe? Maybe some well-honed drills, actions I can take when tempted, like a battle drill?

I might be stretching the point too far - this verse might simply be an aphorism about work. It still seems constructive to mull over, though. There are enough times when I let life beat me that I should always be trying to figure out a better way.

chasing the wind

Every person eventually gets to the biggest question of them all: What’s the point? Why am I here? What is the reason for my life?

Ecclesiastes addresses that question, in kind of a discouraging way. The basic premise of the teacher’s search for the meaning of life is this:

“I applied my mind to study and to explore by wisdom all that is done under the heavens. What a heavy burden God has laid on mankind! I have seen all the things that are done under the sun; all of them are meaningless, a chasing after the wind. (Ecc 1:13-14) . . . . So I hated life, because the work that is done under the sun was grievous to me. All of it is meaningless, a chasing after the wind.” (Ecc 2:17)

I’ve felt that way. There have been times when I hated my life, because it seemed so pointless. All that work to make someone else rich, to solve someone else’s problems. I worked to earn a check, which disappeared in the time it took me to earn the next one. Life seemed like a treadmill.

But that’s because I was looking for the wrong kind of meaning. I was measuring my own significance. I expected life to be about me, and I expected that the trajectory would be always upward.

It took me a long time to get to the conclusion the teacher reaches in Ecc 2:24-25: “A person can do nothing better than to eat and drink and find satisfaction in their own toil. This too, I see, is from the hand of God, for without him, who can eat or find enjoyment?”

This was the secret that led me finally to contentment and then happiness with my own life. The joy is in the daily blessings. The joy is in the people I help with my work, the people I serve with my life. My reward is the enjoyment of the routine blessings of food, drink, companionship. At the end of the day, I sleep well because I feel good about what I did, and I enjoy the rhythm of a well-lived, faithful life.

What I’ve come to see is that serving people and being grateful for God’s Providence is the quiet life of faith scripture calls me to. It’s a contentment that’s hard to hang onto. But when I’m successful, there’s a lot of meaning to this life. And a lot of joy.

daily bread

I’ve written before about my interest in the topic of enough. How much food is enough? How much money? How much house, or car, or leisure? There’s a point where too much is bad, but it’s hard to be satisfied with just enough.

That’s why Proverbs 30:8-9 is so thought-provoking to me. It says, “Give me neither poverty nor riches, but give me only my daily bread. Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you and say, 'Who is the Lord? ' Or I may become poor and steal, and so dishonor the name of my God.”

I love the idea of only wanting enough, but I have to admit in the desert I’d have been one of those people who tried to save some manah for the next day. I want a reserve. Sometimes the reserve I want is pretty big.

This proverb clearly points to the dangers, though. If I get so much that it feels secure, will I rely on God’s providence, or think I’ve got it covered? If I don’t really have enough, if I run out tomorrow, what sort of desperate or even illegal thing will I do to try to provide?

The question of enough has some pretty pointed spiritual implications. Do I trust God? Really? Enough to let him worry about my future? Or do I really trust my 401(k) and Roth IRA? Do I think my paycheck is providing for me, or do I still believe in Providence?

It seems a weird pray to pray specifically not to get rich, but that’s what this Proverb recommends. Maybe I have to start praying that way. I think I’ve forgotten a lot of what depending on God really is.

sharp iron

Stephen Covey wrote The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People a few decades ago, and it was a huge hit. But he realized later on that those habits didn’t go far enough. He noted that his first book helped people move from dependence to independence, but that every truly successful person also learned to be inter-dependent, that is, to learn how to work collectively with other dependent people.

I thought about that this morning when I read one of my favorite proverbs. Proverbs 27:17 says, “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.”

This proverb tells me I need other people to be my best. I need their feedback to my ideas, I need their reactions to my actions, I need their honest input on how I’m doing. No matter how well-intentioned I am, I need help being well-informed and well-mannered.

That’s why God put me in a congregation and in a community. By myself, I try hard but my opinions aren’t as good, so my statements and actions aren’t effective either. By myself I do weird things, take weird positions, and ultimately alienate people.

When I discuss issues with others, though, I come to better conclusions. When I plan work with others, I miss fewer details and have fewer bad outcomes. When I put my shoulder to the wheel with others, we move far heavier loads that we could alone.

Together we’re better. But more to the point, when we’re together, I’m better. Other people make me a better me than I would be alone. 

appetite for violence

A German friend told me once that he didn’t understand American morality. “You go crazy if there’s nudity, which is beautiful, but you’re fine with violence, which is ugly.”

You may want to argue that it’s not true, that as a nation we’re fed up with mass killings and police abuse and the epidemic of murder-suicides and sexual assaults. I won’t disagree with that, but there are other things I might point out.

One of our candidates for President thinks the Orlando shooter, who is dead, got off easy. Meaning what, he should have suffered more? In fact, this candidate has applauded and defended violence against hecklers at his rallies, while supporters of his most liberal opponent respond to his ideas with violence in the streets. The comments at the bottom of opinion pieces from across the political spectrum threaten horrifying acts of violence. The vocal supporters of both parties think a punch in the nose is the best answer to an opposing idea.

Or look at our TV shows. Cop shows, the most popular category, routinely show not only bloody shootings and stabbings, but dismembered or dissected corpses are almost a requirement to drive ratings. Shows like Columbo and Murder She Wrote, favorites of the past, are far too bland these days. The big ratings, and most of my Christian friends, go to NCIS and Criminal Minds and Bones for their entertainment, and movies and books with a constant stream of blood shed in a variety of disgusting ways - Game of Thrones, anyone? - top the charts.

Proverbs 13:2  says, “From the fruit of their lips people enjoy good things, but the unfaithful have an appetite for violence.” I think we Americans have an appetite for violence. We want to use it to solve our problems, and we entertain ourselves with it just as much as the ancient Romans did in the colosseum.

But . . . I do too. I like NCIS. I read the first book in the Game of Thrones series, and am tempted to read the rest. I often think edgy is realistic, and too often edgy is bloody. I like to believe that after five decades, half of which were spent in the violence-oriented business of being a soldier, I have a realistic view of violence as a natural part of life.

But what I have is a high tolerance for violence. Which means, unfortunately, that I have a well-developed ability to watch bad things being done to God’s image-bearers without getting sick or having to look away. That’s not maturity, that’s callousness. 

This proverb puts the fruit of my lips as a possible opposite position to an appetite for violence. Fruit is something good - badness would be poison - so this suggests that one antidote is to, in Toby Mac’s words, speak life. Let the fruit of the spirit - love, joy, peace - fall from my mouth. Let me never encourage violence as a solution, let me never praise violence as entertainment. Help me to see that choosing it myself is an endorsement.

Can I do that? I don’t know, but I mean to find out.