Thursday, April 18, 2024

Encouragement Checkup, Part One: Draw Near

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     It’s been said that reinforcement is the key to learning. Hear a thing once, and you’ll retain some of it; hear it again, and you’ll retain more, and so on. To that end, I’m feeling the liberty to use this forum to lean further into a concept we talked about in church a couple weeks ago: encouragement. We looked at a certain chunk of Bible from Hebrews 10. By way of reinforcement, here it is again:

    19 Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, 20 by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, 21 and since we have a great priest over the house of God, 22 let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. 23 Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. 24 And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, 25 not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching (Hebrews 10:19-25).

     For the sake of our frazzled minds, we chose to restate the biblical instruction in the simplest of terms:

1.      Draw near.

2.      Hold fast.

3.      Encourage one another.

     Since nothing in Scripture is random, let’s assume God meant the first thing to be the first thing. Today’s letter, then, will be all about drawing near to God. The next letter will be on the “Hold fast” theme. And by the time the third letter of this nano-series comes out, I’m praying the Father has made all of us – you-and-me-and-all-of-us – ready to be top-notch encouragers!

    I got to wondering: Is there anyplace in Scripture where “draw near to God” is accompanied by a promise? A flood of examples ensued. Let’s pick one for now and roll with it:

    But he gives more grace. Therefore it says, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you (James 4:6-8a).

     There are three solid promises in those 2.5 verses, all associated with drawing near to God. Are you ready to own them? Confession: I’m not ready to own them, honestly, not in this moment – but I hope to be ready very soon. Maybe you’re in the same kind of spot, so let’s see if we can identify a starting place, and begin to cooperate with the Lord in his promises.

     Seems to me, it starts with humility. But he gives more grace. Why am I clinging to the illusion of self-sufficiency, when the Father gives more grace? Therefore it says, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” Why do I fuel my strivings with pridefulness, when the Almighty stands in opposition? Submit yourselves therefore to God. Why did I ever think there was any other workable choice? He gives more grace. Gives it for the asking. Gives however much it takes, and then some, which is the very essence of grace. So goes the first promise: he gives more grace.

     The second promise: Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. We resist. He flees. I sense a resistance to this one. With a long history of the devil eating our lunches with a side of impunity, I get it. Let’s try again: Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. We resist. He flees. We don’t have to lunge at the devil; we don’t have to jump-scare the devil; we don’t have to outsmart the devil – simply resist. The Father stands over his children and declares, “Mine.” The devil ain’t messing with that. He is outclassed, outgunned, and he knows it better than we do.

     Third and best: Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. In my line of work, I’ve heard a lot of salvation stories, stories of wandering far from God, stories of resisting his invitations for long periods of time. All of those stories (including mine), though unique in the details, have a common pivot point: “When I turned around, the Father was right there.” At the very end of Paul’s last letter to the Corinthians, there is a benediction, or “good word”: The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ and the love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all (2Corinthians 13:14). Grace. Love. Fellowship. Drawing near to God is its own reward. He is: rock, fortress, deliverer; our God, in whom we may certainly trust.

     First thing first. A snowball in a pizza oven stands a better chance than we do – if we want to be authentic encouragers – unless we first draw near to the creator of all things, the sustainer of all things, the lover of our souls.

     Turn around.

     He’s right there.


 Grace and Peace (in turning),

John  

Thursday, April 4, 2024

Easter Debrief

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     There are so many glories from this past Sunday to unpack. I’ll pick one.

     I’d been wringing my hands over the weather forecast for a solid week. Would the sky be clear for the sunrise service? Would it be unbearably cold? Would we have the “angel mist” hovering over the pond? I could only be sure of two things. First, day followed after day in the relentless approach of Sunday. Second, each day’s weather forecast proved to be off by a little – or a lot. Checking for the last time around 10:15pm on Saturday, I was relieved to see that the chance of rain had diminished to approximately the value of “meh.”

     My wakeup call was not the 04:30 alarm I programmed into the phone (operator error). Rather, it was a crash of thunder and a torrent of rain against the bedroom window. Sunday had turned inglorious while I slept.

     Time and tide, as they say, wait for no man. Same goes for rain. Wet or dry, Sunday was happening. The only thing left to do was carry out as much of the plan as we could. Frankly, I was bummed.

     Maybe you’ve noticed, dear Church, how blessings are harder to spot than obstacles. I read recently that journalists consider the term “good news” to be an oxymoron: they don’t report on the airplanes that arrive safely, only the ones that crash. I must be a natural-born journalist. Thankfully, the Holy Spirit lives in me, as he does in every Christian believer, and as the glories began to materialize, I had a spirit-level witness to their arrival.  

     Through a glorious glitch in scheduling (my fault), a handful of folks came thinking the service started at 6:30am. They were happy to join others in setting up chairs for the 7am start. One of the rented patio heaters refused to stay lit, but we had fifty-two degrees for a temperature instead of our “customary” thirty-something. There were no visible angels dancing over the pond, but the air was certainly loaded with the bounty of spring. In fifteen or so sunrise services, I don’t recall ever having a thunderstorm. It was fast becoming evident that 2024 would be the year. (Never say never, right?) And the particular glory to which I bear witness would have been nigh-onto impossible without that particular weather event.

     We were fairly deep into singing “In Christ Alone,” a plodding/soaring musical testimony to the power of the Resurrection. The third verse begins “There in the ground His body lay / light of the world by darkness slain. Then bursting forth in glorious Day…

     Boo-o-o-o-o-oom, rumble/rumble…

     I could hardly go on. What more could be said? What more could be sung, other than “…up from the grave he rose again! And as he stands in victory / sin’s curse has lost its grip on me…”

     The King of the Universe had made silliness of the weather forecasts. My expectations he made even sillier. Why had I wanted what I’d wanted? This was way better. From the storehouse of heaven, he sent thunderous proof of his faithfulness: resurrection power is for now, is for ever. I love how he works the punctuation.

     Beloved, we are God's children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is (1John 3:2).

     How’s that for an expectation?

     In 2025, Easter will occur on April 20. A little late in the spring for snow, but I distinctly remember two inches of sloppy wet stuff on the twenty-fourth of April in 2005, a non-Easter Sunday. God does what he wants, and that’s OK. Indeed, he does immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us (Ephesians 3:20). Imagine that, if you can. If the snow lashes our faces on 4.20.25, we’ll manage. It may simply be the shortest sunrise service so far. But I do hope the second heater stays lit.  

Grace and Peace (and witness to the glory),

 

John