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.