Thursday, March 21, 2024

How it Rolls

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     Certain things, we are told, roll downhill. Anyone who has been in a chain of command, whether military or civil, will immediately assign a four-letter s-word to the top of the list (not that you would use the word yourself, tender Church, it’s simply what we’ve heard). And the Second Law of Thermodynamics goes so far as to say that all things run down, not up. Ouch.

     Thankfully, the Creator of the universe has provided a shining exception. Hope rolls uphill, not down. Rather than leaning on my own understanding, or asking you to, let’s consult what the Creator has said:

    Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us (Romans 5:1-5).

 According to God-breathed Scripture, hope rolls along an uphill path through three necessary territories: suffering, endurance, and character. Given our druthers, we would have lobbed hope directly into “the glory of God,” sailing over the hard stuff. But hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? (Romans 8:24). We are called upon to trust the process.

     To give the Second Law of Thermodynamics a fair shake, it has to be studied further. It’s not totally bogus; indeed, it is mostly right. Up front, it says that all things are running, and will continue to run, downward. The entire universe will, through irreversible processes, eventually sag into a state of universal deadness. The word often used for the deadness is “entropy.” Given my limited vocabulary, yeah, I had to look it up. In terms of thermodynamics, entropy is “a measure of the unavailable energy in a closed thermodynamic system.” When all energy becomes unavailable, deadness happens.

     Unless.

     Unless there is, somewhere in the mix, a reversible process. Unless there is, already loose in the universe, an ultimate renewable resource. In my humble opinion, the best way to study the Second Law of Thermodynamics is to have the First Law firmly in hand: “Energy is neither created nor destroyed.” To put it in familiar terms: the fuel you burned leaving the green light converted thermal energy to kinetic energy; the brakes you applied stopping at the next red light converted the kinetic energy back to thermal energy. No energy was created or destroyed; the exchange was one-for one. Now I’ll admit, it can reasonably be said, “My gas tank goes empty; my brakes wear out. Isn’t that energy irretrievable, or, as the Second Law says, unavailable?” The answer is Yes and No. Irretrievable and therefore unavailable by conventional means? Yes. Ultimately irretrievable and unavailable? No.

     Enter hope.

     The Story of the End of History, aka the testimony of Jesus Christ to what must surely be, aka the Book of the Revelation, describes anything but disorder leading to universal deadness. It describes, rather, perfect order and beauty that left the apostle, at times, without sufficient words. The Second Law of Thermodynamics will, in the fulness of time, be relieved of its burden of deadness. And so will the one who reads aloud the words of this prophecy, and blessed are those who hear, and who keep what is written in it (Revelation 1:3). Whoever has the washing of regeneration and the renewal of the Holy Spirit (Titus 3:5); whoever has the mind of Christ (1Corinthians 2:16) – in other words, those who have an ear to hear – will hear the call to come up higher, to follow the ball of hope on its uphill roll.

     Romans Five, one-thru-five, is the road map. And maybe the best thing we can do in this walk-around world is figure out where on the map we are, to give a nod to those territories of suffering, endurance, and character… and triangulate our location. Did you suffer in that situation? Oh, brother, did I ever! And what was the outcome? Well, I came through it. And was endurance produced? Um, I guess so, yeah, or else I wouldn’t have come through. And was character produced? Now that you mention it, I did learn a thing or two about not getting myself into the same messes. Congratulations, brother! Congratulations, sister! My own experiments in suffering are producing the same results. There’s hope for us yet.

     What are you hoping for? By design, it will be out of sight for a while. The First Law of Thermodynamics gives proper context to the Second; the first law is the scientist’s expression of hope. Though mankind will never invent the instrument to measure it, hope runs out ahead, gathering the thermal energy of every far-flung star, the kinetic energy of every orbiting planet, the God-given soul energy of every prayer – to be gathered up into perfect order, according to the Creator’s plan.

     With Good Friday only a week away, I’m compelled to close out this letter with words of ultimate hope. It comes, again, from the letter to the Romans:

    If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit who dwells in you (8:11). Yes, the crucifixion is a locatable historical fact. And so is the resurrection. As Friday was happening, Sunday was already on the way. Resurrection power is real – now and forever.

     Herein is hope.

  

Grace and Peace (for the onward and upward),

 

John

Friday, March 8, 2024

How Do You Hear?

 Hey, Cobblestone,


    “On a scale of 1-10, with 10 being the worst pain you’ve ever experienced, what’s your pain level today?” I cringe when a medical professional asks me that question. I’m never sure how to answer. Today’s pain may be throbbing, while the worst-ever was sharp. Kidney stones produce a different pain than broken ribs – I know this for a fact. Besides, other than taking measures to keep the worst-ever pains from happening again, I’ve been trying to forget them. Today’s 10 is today’s 10; I might be able to compare it to yesterday, maybe last week, but years-ago is probably not doable. Such is the nature of diagnostic questions; they have their limitations. I’m about to ask you a diagnostic question, Church. Just so you know: I’m aware of the limitations. So, something like the medical pro who’s trying to determine what goes into the next prescription or syringe or IV bag, please trust that I’m simply looking for the best path forward. Here goes…

    How do you usually hear from the Lord?

    Psalm 34:4 says, I sought the LORD, and he answered me and delivered me from all my fears. 

    The Lord answers those who seek him – the verse above is but one example. The question at hand isn’t whether the Lord answers, but rather, how does one know that he has? When you seek the Lord, what form do you usually expect the reply to take? Please think on it for as long as it takes to form a recognizable answer.

    Some of us look for the Lord’s reply in Scripture; some in circumstances; some in a prophetic word; some in a spirit-level witness. None of those is unacceptable; all of those, at different times, have been part of the history of the Father’s children, collectively. And for any given one of us, there’s probably no singular method. I bring all this up because, for whatever reason, the Lord is prompting me to. Maybe it’s important for us to sort it out.

    There are two dominant and competing themes in Psalm 34: fear/trouble/affliction vs. deliverance/rescue/blessing. In the first theme, please note: though they’re similar, those three things aren’t exactly the same. Fear may best be met with one kind of answer from the Lord,while trouble or affliction is best met with some other.

    The history of Psalm 34 reaches back into 1Samuel 21. David, who is credited with writing the psalm, was delivered from a very particular trouble on a very particular day. He sought the Lord, and the answer manifested as a radical change in the circumstances. Maybe the next day’s trouble was different; maybe the answer was, too. As Jesus so famously said, “Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof” (Matthew 6:34). Good thing the Father never runs out of ways to meet the day.

    There is precisely zero chance of life being painless, or devoid of trouble, fear, and affliction. The least helpful thing we can do at this point is to not know or not care how the Lord answers when we seek him. Our souls need to close the loop. On top of having it declared in Scripture as an unassailable fact, our souls need to know – from the inside out – that the Father hears, answers, and delivers.

    I’m hoping (and praying right now) that the Lord will provide time and space for you to sort it out. I’m also hoping that you’ll share your findings with others, compare notes, triangulate. There are some particular answers I’m looking for these days that, so far, involve at least three ways of hearing from the Lord. I’m sharing the partial findings with a few brothers and sisters, fellow pilgrims. I don’t want to shut the door on any legitimate method of hearing from the Father. And I sure-as-heck don’t want to go another day without even trying to identify his usual and customary ways of answering.

    How do you hear from the Lord? How do you know that you have?

    This poor man cried, and the LORD heard him and saved him out of all his troubles (Psalm 34:6).
Amen, and may it be so in your life.

May you also know how it happened.


Grace and Peace (for the pilgrimage),
John