Give Thought

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     Last week I pulled four simple words from Scripture for us to live by: Let love be genuine (Romans 12:9). Isolated from their context, turned out they weren’t simple at all. Thank God, the awesome Explainer, for context! With a few nuggets of further instruction we were off to the races, ready to let love be genuine with measurable, repeatable progress – Yay! So let’s try the same experiment again, only this time with half as many words:

 Give thought… (Romans 12:17).

 Ready? Go!

…………………. Are you thinking? What are you thinking about? Are your thoughts tracking in a useful direction? Have they produced any action yet? Are you wishing you could reach back through our digital devices and pinch me for setting you off on a wild goose chase? Now, there’s a thought. How did that happen – the thought, I mean? What process produces thought? Well, there are differing opinions; I’ll present a couple of them, and you can give thought to which one makes more sense. Really, you can.

     Not long ago I was introduced to a thing called Glutamic Theory. At the risk of oversimplifying, the idea is that thoughts, particularly the unhelpful ones, originate at the glutamate synapse, and are regulated (or not) by whatever stew of chemicals happen to be cooking in the brain. One avid proponent has said that “the word ‘evil’ is mostly meaningless” – evil’s origin is totally neurochemical. By extension (if I may), the full spectrum of human thought is the direct result – favorable or not so much – of chemical combinations. Or, as one neurologist has said, every nuance of life boils down to “neurons that fire and glands that squirt.”

     Hmm. Allow me to present an alternate view:

     O Lord, our Lord,

    how majestic is your name in all the earth!

When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers,
    the moon and the stars, which you have set in place,
what is man that you are mindful of him,
    and the son of man that you care for him?

Yet you have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings
    and crowned him with glory and honor.
You have given him dominion over the works of your hands;
    you have put all things under his feet… (Psalm 8:1, 3-6).

     Give thought, Christian. Would it make any sense for the LORD, our Lord, to put everything he’s created under the feet of creatures who are nothing more than chemically induced firings and squirtings? Why would he crown such creatures with glory and honor? Why would he claim them as his inheritance? There must be more to us.

     Take our two test words, “give thought,” plug them into context, and this is what you find:

Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly. Never be wise in your own sight. Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all (Romans 12:14-17).  

     In my house there is a small dog. I’ve been feeding that dog every day, twice a day, for nearly fifteen years. But if I put a hand between dog and food, the dog will bite me. And has. Lately. As if the sum total of the dog’s existence lies in that feed bowl. It aggravates me, but doesn’t surprise me. The dog gives no thought whatsoever; it is unfiltered reaction to input. I have expected better from my children, and still do, when they’ve been around my table – and so far not one of them has bitten me.

     Do synapses fire? Yep. Do glands squirt? Uh-huh. Are they affected by chemicals within the body? Absolutely. One more question: Has God designed persons – the imago Dei – to be forever and always at the mercy of the firing and squirting? No way! Even before salvation, humans are gifted with the ability to reason and make decisions, to wrangle the unhelpful thoughts and capitalize on the helpful ones. And for we who are saved, our bodies qualify as temples of the Holy Spirit (see 1Corinthians 6:19) and our brains have the ability to think like Jesus (see 1Corinthians 2:16). Fire-and-squirt is not the only game in town.

     I’m a big fan of science, actually. So is God, I think. Why else would he have given us science as a vehicle of discovery? The problem arises when science becomes an end in itself. And when science is presented as the only means for examining the complexities of the soul, it slams the door on the Creator, who is the only reliable cure when the soul is hurting or sick. Science is not a stand-alone proposition; it exists within the context of God’s dominion – not aside from, and certainly not above.

     The first two verses of Romans 12 urge us to offer our bodies as living sacrifices and be transformed by the renewing of our minds. This is what’s necessary if we’re going to live out the instructions given in verses 14 through 17 – blessing those who persecute us, living in harmony, repaying no one evil for evil. Those won’t happen by accident or by chemical reaction. It’ll take some thought. Good thing we have spares to give.

     From the glory God has crowned us with, let’s return glory to him, and give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all, to live out what he has said is possible and fruitful. Someone is bound to notice, and give glory to our Father in heaven.

Grace and Peace (and time to think),

 

John    

Genuine

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     We like it simple, so here are four simple words from Scripture by which we may live our lives:

    Let love be genuine (Romans 12:9).

     Ready? Go!

………………………. What are you waiting for? What part of “let love be genuine” don’t you understand? Oh, all the parts? Yeah, me too. Apparently, we need a bit more instruction – not to make the task more complex, but to uncover the simple. Here are the same four words in their immediate context:

    Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor. Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality (verses 9-13).

    I find myself quickly suspicious of instructors who rank being higher than doing, saying, “Remember, we’re human be-ings, not human do-ings” – as if it’s even possible to separate the two. Being and doing are linked forever; Romans 12:1 says presenting our bodies as a living sacrifice is spiritual worship. And so the fact remains: what we be is proven by what we do. God doesn’t separate his being from his doing. Why should we, his image-bearers, even try?

     Love is the best invention ever, and the best thing about love is that it so definitely does. “Does what?” we might ask. Fair question. Well, among all good doings in time and eternity, love does precisely what’s described in the sentences following our simple, four-word instruction, Let love be genuine. Scroll up and take another peek. Notice the immediacy; be impressed by the bulk of opportunity no more than arm’s length away. Love is itching to be proven genuine, and won’t settle for merely being.

     Speaking of arm’s length, please allow me to introduce you to a couple terms I’ve found useful. Both are represented by the same initials: P.o.E. One is “Patch of Earth”; the other is “Points of Engagement.” The two are related thus: for every blood-bought son or daughter of God Most High, Points of Engagement are found on his or her Patch of Earth. I am, of course, obliged to unpack the P.o.E’s at this juncture.

     The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to work it and keep it (Genesis 2:15).  Though he was formed from dust, Adam was put in the garden; the Lord God put him there. Sin got Adam booted from the garden, and the booting also was God’s doing. Since then, every member of “Adam’s tragic race” has been working a second-best patch of earth. But please don’t forget, as it was for the first human, so also with us: the given patch is given by God. Patch of Earth, whether or not we actually hold a title deed to it, will involve our ordinary travels and people within our sphere of influence – places and persons known and seen… and loved. At times, the Lord will compel some of us to seek out and know and love far-off people and lands. Mainly, though, “local” may be the handiest term attached to Patch of Earth. Or, to describe it by the inverse: your patch of earth can’t be somewhere you’ve never been and never intend to go.

     Points of Engagement are similarly local. They involve length, width, height, and time, also the senses. The defining characteristic of this P.o.E. is that it’s so right-the-heck here, in the moment, insisting on being approved or denied, but never simply dismissed. There will be skin in the game, consequences good or ill for acting or not acting. It’s intimidating, I know, but God’s got this. As he determined your Patch of Earth, so also will he design your Points of Engagement. And at those points, Church, is where love shines brightest.

     I think we can agree that each of us will find ample points of engagement within our patch of earth. The “friend at midnight” of Luke 11 can’t pound on your door from a thousand miles away; neither could you hand over the loaves of bread in the exact moment of his need. The “persistent widow” of Luke 18 could sufficiently pester the judge only by being in his face. Empathy is an arm’s-length proposition. Love is so very local.  

     In due time, we will inhabit the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God (Hebrews 11:10). In due time, the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God (Romans 8:21).  In due time, Adam’s colossal boo-boo will be undone, and whatever second-best P.o.E’s we’re working at present can be traded in – or perhaps made first-best right where they sit. Meanwhile, we let love do, wherever we are.

     In recognizing my limitations, I’m going to choose just one of the several exhortations in Romans 12:9-13 and make it the focus for today. Hmm, let’s see. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good looks like a juicy one, but instead, I’m picking Outdo one another in showing honor. That ought to shiver-me-timbers, and shake me out of self-centeredness. That ought to make room for love to be proven genuine. “Oh, Lord, you know how much of your help I’ll need with this!” To borrow the question from Frisch’s Big Boy restaurant: What’s your favorite thing?

     Let love be genuine. OK, now go!

 

Grace and Peace (in being and doing),

 

John

 

Equip, Part 1: Get Off the Chalkboard,

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     Just for fun, imagine the apostle Paul as a teacher at a chalkboard. If the image you create resembles Einstein, that’s OK – add tunic and sandals and you’re off to a fine start. Chalk in hand, Paul is assaulting the board with great fervor, diagramming the first eleven chapters of his letter to the Romans (the doctrinal section). Dust hangs in the air, and his hair becomes more frazzled with each stroke. He turns frequently to the class: some are eager and attentive; others have saved a straw from lunchtime to launch spit-wads at the attentive ones. But Paul uses none of his mental power to distinguish one from another; he only wants to get this massive truth on the board.

     Running low on space, he knows he has to bring this thing to a logical conclusion, and soon. He takes a step back. Doctrine of original sin? Check. Predestination and election? Check. Salvation by grace alone through faith alone? Yep – they’re all here, doctrine after doctrine, with lines and arrows connecting the related dots. It’s all so helpful. With a flourish, Paul fairly leaps at the bottom-right corner of the board, draws an oversized “equals” sign, followed by the summary on everything up to this point:

For God has consigned all to disobedience, that he may have mercy on all (Romans 11:32).

     Intending to say, “And there you have it!” he turns again to the class. Some stare back through squinted eyes; straws hang slack from parted, puzzled lips. He holds his words. They don’t have it. Rounding slowly to the dreaded chalkboard, he begins to realize: neither does he. What happened? The “equals” sign cannot lie.

     In this moment, a fonder revelation dawns on him: he’s been teaching way above his pay grade. Way. Someone has been animating him far beyond natural ability, inspiring him to write what he didn’t know he could, pushing and pulling all at once. The marks on the board are merely a representation – a fine representation for sure, but waiting itself, yet to be animated – a big foam finger pointing to the grand and glorious One who fully intends his will to be carried out. Now Paul gets it. There’s one essential action to take, like right now.

     He throws out his arms, hands open wide. His last piece of chalk shatters on the floor. He spins to the class, showing them not the intense, knitted brow of Einstein, but the wide open, gleaming eyes of a classmate who has just discovered The Answer. With uplifted chin and a voice to reach heaven, he delivers the one true and fitting capstone to all that has come before:

    Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!

“For who has known the mind of the Lord,
    or who has been his counselor?”
“Or who has given a gift to him
    that he might be repaid?”

For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen  (Romans 11:33-36).

     Greek and Hebrew come together in exclamations known to any language: “Hoopa-a-a-a-ah and WooHOOOoooooooo!!” (Your imagination is still engaged, yes?) Finally(!), the regenerated soul has found a way to join forces with flesh and bone, brought together by the worship of the only one who could pull off such a thing. Um, now what?

     In one last exercise of the imagination, picture Paul, in a passion somewhat dangerous to his physical frame, shoving his desk off to an unused portion of the classroom. He summons the students from their seats and into the now empty space. They form a tight circle, leaning inward, arm-upon-arm. Nary a spit-wad clutters the air. He captures the eyes of each one in turn, and says, “So – here’s what we’re gonna do…”

     After a brief huddle, they break. The only good direction from here is toward the door, which swings open of its own accord rather than being torn from its hinges. The class and teacher all together spill into the corridor and from there into the wide and unsuspecting world – the academics to do what the Holy Spirit has gifted them to do, and the spit-wad launchers… well, the world has need of them too, so long as their aim is Holy Spirit-guided. And Paul, he goes out to plant yet another church – because that’s his thing.

     What Paul delivers in the huddle is the front end of the twelfth chapter of Romans, the preamble to what is called the practical section of the letter. (I like practical. How ‘bout you?) Step One is to present our bodies as a living sacrifice, which is nothing less than spiritual worship. Simultaneous with Step One, we are urged to enter into transformation by the renewal of our minds, by which we may know the will of God. And just like our imaginary Paul in his imaginary classroom, something actual, something tangible, has to happen – except now, there’s nothing the least bit imaginary about it. Ready?

     Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them: if prophecy, in proportion to our faith; if service, in our serving; the one who teaches, in his teaching; the one who exhorts, in his exhortation; the one who contributes, in generosity; the one who leads, with zeal; the one who does acts of mercy, with cheerfulness (Romans 12:6-8).

     I’ve taken “Spiritual Gifts Assessments” till I’m blue in the face. Not a one of them has told me anything I didn’t already know – if I had cared to notice. Spiritual gifts have an uncanny way of manifesting themselves. Paul (the real one) backs me up in this statement. In another letter to another “class,” this time the Corinthian church, he says, To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good (1Corinthians 12:7). Look again – what word manifested itself most readily to you? Probably not “manifestation,” and that’s OK for now, but I’m urging you to let that word poke you in the ribs, because the best tell of a spiritual gift is to observe what a believer does with his or her earthy tent of flesh.

     At any given moment, each of us Christians is either bringing the kingdom of God or resisting its coming. Yes, the Lord gives sleep and Sabbath (thank you, Lord!), and that too is to his glory. But there’s no neutral. In the exercise of any spiritual gift, very matter and real energy are affected. The universe changes shape. Please don’t think that it’s anything less than what I’ve just described.

     In 1Corinthians 12:7, “each” refers to each Christian, every single blood-bought daughter and son of God. To each is given – there’s no such thing as an ungifted Christian. To leave that gift or gifts in the realm of theory, short of manifestation, is to resist the coming of the kingdom of God. Truly, I do not intend to add anxiety, so let’s do this: Let’s get into an easy, ongoing dialogue with our Father, and ask him provide a witness of the Holy Spirit moment by moment – confirmation when we’re tracking with his will, and conviction when we are not.

     And then simply watch. Are you prophesying, serving, teaching, exhorting, contributing, leading, and/or doing acts of mercy? Are you using a shovel to the glory of God? Maybe a fire truck? Who made you able to do that? What difference is it making in the world? There has to be something.

     My favorite photo of Albert Einstein shows him with hair a mess and tongue stuck out, a totally goofy expression providing a laugh at his expense. My second-favorite photo of him is from across a desk covered with disheveled piles of paper, captioned with a question from the renowned physicist: “If a cluttered desk is a sign of a cluttered mind, of what is an empty desk a sign?” We can be glad that God gives us plenty of opportunities to take life out of the realm of theory, to put boots on the ground and cooperate with him in the outcome. What a great loss if we were to leave all that power just humming in a back room somewhere.

     Grace and Peace (beyond a theory thereof),

 John 

So Spiritual

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     You may have noticed in our worship services last Sunday that no animals were cut up. I, for one, am glad. I’d say you are too. And yet we worshiped the Lord. Genuine and God-pleasing worship arose from us. And then – funny thing – when the last Amen was said and the building cleared out, worship continued… again, with no animals being harmed in the practice thereof. How did that happen? The following paragraph provides a thoroughly plausible explanation.

     In the second of our services last Sunday, two families brought their children up on the platform to be dedicated to the Lord, much like Joseph and Mary did with infant Jesus back in the day. But unlike parents in the early First Century AD, these Cobblestone parents brought no animal sacrifice – no pigeons, no turtledoves. Still, no worries, for I had met with the families beforehand and explained, with Scripture, what the appropriate New Testament sacrifice is:

    I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship (Romans 12:1).  

     Present your bodies… which is your spiritual worship. The body of a Christian houses the spirit; the spirit of a Christian resides in the body, along with the Holy Spirit of God. Spiritual worship of the LORD our God can and must involve the body. So how does that work?

     The Bible book of Romans is arranged in two distinct sections: the doctrinal and the practical. The first eleven chapters are doctrinal; the last five practical. Some of the most dedicated theologians throughout history have occupied themselves with the doctrinal juggernaut known as Romans One through Eleven. And if it hadn’t been for Romans Twelve through Sixteen, the practical part, they might have spent the last decade of their lives in a dim corner somewhere, blowing slobber-bubbles, overwhelmed (as the apostle Paul was) by the doctrinal section of Romans. Thankfully, the opening verse of Chapter 12 has an appeal and a therefore.

     Romans 12:1 beckons to the Christian coming out of the previous eleven chapters: “Because of all that, do this!” And the very first “this” involves presenting our bodies to the Lord as a living sacrifice. Hmm, how do we do that? Good question, and a short cruise a little further into Romans 12 provides enough answers to keep us occupied for a good long time. Get ready, Church, open your eyes and minds – I’m pretty sure this is something different than what you’re thinking at the moment:

    Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them: if prophecy, in proportion to our faith; if service, in our serving; the one who teaches, in his teaching; the one who exhorts, in his exhortation; the one who contributes, in generosity; the one who leads, with zeal; the one who does acts of mercy, with cheerfulness. Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor. Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them. Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly. Never be wise in your own sight. Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” To the contrary, “if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good (Romans 12:6-21).  

     Try accomplishing any one of those instructions without involving the body. Not happening. Let us use them – using our God-given gifts will, at some point and probably early on, include hands, feet, voice… some measure of exertion, however small or great. And why would God be pleased with that? How is that honoring him? Well, suppose I gave you a high-dollar set of tools – triple chrome-plated and coming in a fitted case – and told you to fix something with them. But instead, you set them out on the coffee table, dusted them once a week, and made them the subject of conversation when guests came over. Would I not feel dishonored? Sure, you’re making a big deal of the tools, maybe even making a big deal of the giver – but they’re not doing what I meant for them to do. God puts his surpassing power into jars of clay (see 2Corinthians 2:7) precisely for the purpose of bringing glory to himself. He just wants some cooperation from the jars.

     In this moment, as I’m pecking away at this keyboard, I’m getting a nudge from the Lord to unpack Romans 12 over the next few weeks. His primary purpose, best I can tell, is to give us a better understanding of spiritual worship and how our bodies are essential partners in it. As we launch into this series that I didn’t know was going to be a series until just-the-heck now, maybe the single best verse to keep in mind (literally) is the following:

    Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect (Romans 12:2).

     “Lord, help us to be transformed. Build us up as true worshipers. Amen.”

 

 Grace and Peace (on the altar of sacrifice),

 

John  

 

Good Enough Worship

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     You’re in the garage. It’s late. There’s only one light on, over the workbench. For the past two hours you’ve been tooling away at a stubborn chunk of steel, calling on the better angels of your benchtop lathe to whip this project into shape. Metal chips are on the floor; finer shavings cling to your shirt. The fact that the “project” is a silencer for your favorite handgun doesn’t bother you at all. Your name is John Clark.

     Apologies to you, Church – and to the estate of Tom Clancy – for plugging you unannounced into one of Clancy’s best-selling novels. I used to gobble up all his cloak-and-dagger and high-alert military stuff – couldn’t wait to see what adventures he would invent next for John Clark or Jack Ryan or some other robustly fictional character. I’m sure it wasn’t all good for my soul, but the culmination of the scene I began describing in the preceding paragraph has actually served me very well in many aspects of life – including my walk with Jesus. I’ll do my best to commend it to you. So, back to the garage, and I’ll put the story into the third-person where it belongs…

     Clark takes a cut on the outside diameter of the silencer, which brings the dimension onto spec. But he notices some unsightly tool marks on the workpiece – nothing to hurt its functionality, but clear evidence that a mere machine operator was at work here, not a craftsman. He could take another five thousandths off the OD, slowing down the feed rate to make the finish better; he could file and polish the piece by hand. He decides: Sometimes good enough really is good enough, and perfect is just a pain in the butt anyway. He unchucks the piece and puts it into service.

     You’ll ask: How, pray tell, would this benefit someone’s walk with Jesus? Fair question, given this is a letter from your pastor. The operative phrase isn’t “silencer for your favorite handgun,” but rather, “good enough really is good enough.” And if you’ll give me a minute or two, I’ll prove that the phrase can justly be applied to the worship of the LORD God Almighty.

     I admire dancers. I don’t have to imitate dancers, and you don’t want me to try. Dancers who worship the Lord through dance I admire even more. Don’t have to imitate them, either. Some folks say we should all “dance like nobody’s watching.” Problem: somebody’s always watching. Bigger problem: I’m no dancer. I admire musicians, especially those who worship the Lord with their musical talents. But so far, the only instrument I’ve learned to play is puckered lips: I whistle. Imagine having me in the row right behind you in worship service this Sunday. Some say I can sing, and a few have even paid me to – but never a cappella. You’ll want to have at least one musician involved. Maybe some dancers, too.

     Books have been written about the heart of worship. To be honest, I haven’t read any of them. But I think I could write one – not because I’m a great writer but because Scripture already gives a simple and surprising glimpse into why a redeemed heart is even able to worship its Redeemer:

    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).

     Hope does not put us to shame. God poured his love into our hearts; he knows what to expect back from our hearts. He is not ashamed of or disappointed with true worship in any form. Authenticity is the one and only qualification: his own love received back from the overflow of love poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit. How good is good enough worship? Whatever the believer and the indwelling Holy Spirit collaborate to offer up to the Father and to his Son Jesus Christ.

     Be careful of the word “should,” especially as it appears in these two renderings: “I should worship like the best worshiper I’ve ever heard of,” and “I should offer worship that matches the majesty of God.” Yeah, good luck with either one of those. Worship-as-production is a losing game, says one who has played it. And worshiping to match the majesty of God is like trying to give a nice belly-rub to an F-18 Hornet thundering overhead at arm’s length. Either one of those mindsets will con us into not worshiping at all – and that, exactly, is the peculiar deception to be avoided.  

     God’s love poured into our hearts is what produces adoration of him. From adoration springs a song, a shout, a dance, a concert… or a single tear. “Should” is more than what we would come up with on our own. “Should” is more than we would allow, given the limitations of talent and propriety. “Should,” by its best rendering, is a quantity that can only be rightly set by the Lord himself, his Holy Spirit confirming or denying whether we’ve met it in worship.

     I’m eager to see what corporate worship of the Lord could be like when every believer breaks out of non-worship, when each believer engages in worship properly scaled. Do you think we could attain such a thing this side of heaven?! We wouldn’t all be doing the same things. Maybe that’s where we get stuck, and snookered into not worshiping – trying to get a couple hundred people doing all the same kind of worship at the same time. How sweet it would be to break free, and for the Holy Spirit to bear witness with us individually and collectively, “There you go… now you’re trackin’!” Meanwhile, and at all times, our Father sees in secret, just like Jesus said he does. Good enough is good enough – and he will build us up for better. Remember: we rejoice in hope of the glory of God.

     In 1Corinthians 15 lives a little term that intrigues me greatly: spiritual body (verse 44). I can pick up some meaning from the context, but I’m still not clear. One Bible teacher helped by saying that the natural bodies of believers are partially animated by the Holy Spirit, while the spiritual body, in the resurrection, will be fully animated by him. I can’t say for sure if he’s completely right, but I sure like to think he is. Imagine: every movement in accordance with the will of the Father. Hey – maybe I’ll dance… and you won’t laugh!   

     Whatever it looks like, it’ll be good enough.

 

 Grace and Peace (to call forth worship),

 

John

 

Working Worship

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     Why is it that so many of Jesus’s parables involve working – tending a vineyard, building a house, harvesting grain, and so on? Not every one, but a solid chunk of his teaching moments give voice to some level of necessary exertion, from kneading bread dough to hacking down barren trees. What are we to learn from the preponderance of labor in the Savior’s stories of what the kingdom of heaven is like?

     One of my favorite theories runs like so: Work and worship are inextricably linked, woven together so’s to be completely inseparable. I’ve never heard anybody say that floating around in heaven on a cloud forever, playing a harp for the Lord, sounded like a rockin’ good time. Yet we know that praise will continue throughout eternity, loudest and most vibrantly among the redeemed who are experiencing the full fruit of redemption. Does that leave work out? Is there nothing constructive to do in heaven? That sounds awful.

     Though it’s technically not a parable, a snapshot from “the days of Jesus’s flesh” serves the same purpose for we who are twenty centuries removed from the day of the event:

One Sabbath, when he went to dine at the house of a ruler of the Pharisees, they were watching him carefully. And behold, there was a man before him who had dropsy. And Jesus responded to the lawyers and Pharisees, saying, “Is it lawful to heal on the Sabbath, or not?” But they remained silent. Then he took him and healed him and sent him away. And he said to them, “Which of you, having a son or an ox that has fallen into a well on a Sabbath day, will not immediately pull him out?” And they could not reply to these things (Luke 14:1-6).

     Why couldn’t the lawyers and Pharisees reply to Jesus? Surely they had plenty of words; they had attained high standing in the use of words. If I were a betting man I’d say they had at least two to three dozen responses to the Master’s question. But sitting atop the stone wall they’d laid up between the sacred and secular, they couldn’t give an answer without dismantling the very wall on which they sat. What would your answer be?

     I’ve never once pulled an ox from a well. Can’t be easy, especially using First Century equipment. But I did once work with my bride to pull our young son from an Atlantic riptide, using nothing but our wits and bodies. Was it on a Sabbath? I don’t remember. As if it would have mattered. We simply appealed to the maker of the riptide to make us smarter if not stronger than the riptide, and convey us to the shore. It still ranks as the most worthy physical effort we’ve ever put forth. And yeah, we had a more recognizable kind of worship service on the beach.

     The writer to the Hebrews posits four phases of Sabbath: one that began on the seventh day of creation, one offered to our forbears in the wilderness, one called “Today,” and another yet to come. The phases will, in God’s good time, circle back on each other; the fourth will be just like the first, in which God took his rest and great joy in his work. But I have to ask: Does that mean God doesn’t create anything anymore? Surely it doesn’t mean that! Living the life of Christian faith is glorious precisely because our God is intimately involved in the work of his hands. Imagine, if your soul is able, God as the master craftsman and us as his apprentices, and then worship the one who calls us into glorious work.

     Worship and work flow together with nary an objection from either. Resting from our labors involves resting from strife, not accomplishment. As God would have it, strife is part of the experience here in a creation not fully restored – “In the world you will have tribulation,” Jesus said in John’s Gospel (16:33a). Likewise, he gives relief from the strife – “But take heart; I have overcome the world” (the rest of verse 33). That’s an Already thing, not a Not Yet. The lawyers and Pharisees of Luke 14 were stuck in Phase 2 of Sabbath, not entering into cooperative rest with God. Jesus has made a way for the people of God to live freely in Phase 3, as we anticipate Phase 4, which circles back on the original Sabbath instituted by the Creator. As Jesus took joy in doing the will of his Father, smack-dab in the middle of his work, so may we.

     I pray a working worship for you, Church, a spirit-level manner of praise that honors the LORD our God and erases frustration, cancels the aching need for quitting time. May you find such satisfaction in the work of your hands, your brain, your body, that your soul must needs magnify the Lord! Now may the God of peace make you holy in every way, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless until our Lord Jesus Christ comes again. God will make this happen, for he who calls you is faithful (1Thessalonians 5:23-24).

      

Grace and Peace (from the Lord of the Sabbath),

 

John

 

Carving Canyons

 

Hey, Cobblestone,

     In the midst of reading Psalm 150 out loud, this happened: Praise God in his sanctuary; praise him (lightning!) in his mighty heavens. Praise him for his acts of power; praise him… (thunder!) for his surpassing greatness. Call it a responsive reading, a thunderstorm and me.

     It’s early Thursday morning and I’ve just come in from my east-facing front porch, shelter from the rain but front row seat for the flashes and rumblings. This is January, I have to remind myself. How could this happen? Simple: the LORD our God said to a warm, wet air mass in the South, “Go north.” And it went. “Baruch atah, Adonai Elohim (blessed are you, LORD our God), King of the universe – who stirs the storm.”

     In my neighbor Matt’s yard, the dainty solar powered lights, off for the past few hours, awaken with each lightning flash: “Oh… what? Hello! Good morning! Um… morning?” And off again. Repeat, at the Conductor’s command: on together, off separately. And then the ground shakes. I’m expecting the very rocks to cry out. Maybe they did, in chorus with thunder, and my ears couldn’t tell the difference. On it went for a certain time, followed by the still small voice of a slow soaking rain. “Baruch atah, Adonai Elohim, King of the universe – who stills the storm.”

     If I could snap my fingers and make one single verse of Scripture known and believed in all mankind, it would be this one:

    Know that the LORD, he is God!

            It is he who made us, and we are his;

            we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture (Psalm 100:3).

     Why that one? Let me count the ways. Whose pasture? His. Whose people? His. Meaning of life? As the old catechism says, “To glorify God and enjoy him forever.” Sanctity of life? What is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him? Yet you have made him a little lower than the heavenly beings and crowned him with glory and honor (Psalm 8:4-5). Any more questions? One verse of Scripture, known and believed, can open the door to every answer.

     You must understand this, Church: Every particle of creation answers to the LORD our God. There’s not a hurricane or an earthquake or the twitch of a sparrow’s eye that happens aside from his command. Every drop of rain – every drop, mind you – surely achieves the purpose for which he sent that drop. Is it outside the realm of possibility that one random son of God, with his feeble predawn voicing reading the one hundred and fiftieth of one hundred and fifty Psalms, could have been written into symphony with the power of the heavens? Oh, not outside the realm at all. Because here’s the thing: There’s no such thing as random.

     The King of the universe will engineer your next breath and your next heartbeat. Repeat – or not. He will cause his rain to fall on the just and the unjust. As our departed brother, R.C. Sproul, was fond of saying, “If there is even one maverick molecule in all the universe, we may not expect that any one of God’s promises will come true.” And he would follow, of course, with, “But there isn’t.” Does that make God worthy of praise? Care to bet your life on it? Your eternity? Relax… it’s not a bet.

     The only moral agency being exercised in all creation is happening right here on earth, right now, by God’s image-bearers. Sun/moon/stars, elephant/eagle/caterpillar are, each and every one, locked into the intricacies and immensities of God’s plan. Only we humans are given space and time to choose whatever. (Please don’t miss the operative word: given.) So, what do we do with that?

     Praise is the key to exercising moral agency that aligns with God’s glory and commissions us as co-regents in his creation. What – you thought it involved being smarter or better or gritting your teeth harder? Nope. Praise. It starts there or it doesn’t start at all. The theme runs throughout the history of our people. In his ugliest moment, Adam didn’t praise God, though he could have. In their better moments, Noah and Abraham and Miriam and David did. And when they didn’t… well, the record is there for all to see. Paul wrote, For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out… Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? (Romans 7:18-19, 24). Thankfully, he was able to follow these gloomy exclamations with praise: Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! (verse 25).

     Through a convoluted plot, the 1991 movie Grand Canyon brings a widely diverse group of people together at the rim of the title character, where their separate problems melt away in the vastness. Really? It’s a hole in the ground. Science tells us of a canyon on Mars that makes our “Grand” the same as a back-alley pothole. But know this: One and the same God carved both. In the opposite direction, the spires of the great cathedrals are designed to draw the eyes of men upward to God. I’ve stood on the plaza in front of the Cathedral of Saint John the Baptist in Savannah, Georgia – my eyes are drawn upward, for sure, and then I start wondering what it was like for the stonemasons who climbed onto rickety scaffolding every day for years on end, only to set some frilly detail no one would ever see up close again. Spires are nice, but let us please show preference for the praise offered up by the saint himself, John’s declaration concerning Jesus: He must increase, but I must decrease (John 3:30).

     The human heart is designed to praise; it’s a well established fact. What or who is praised is up to the human heart – also by design. What better theme than to praise the designer? The human intellect and physical strength make wonderful companions to a heart full of praise to their Maker. Are you stuck? Praise God! Are you lost? Praise God! Are you so full of joy that a cartwheel seems the only right response? What else can I say? Praise God! On one particularly glorious day, I paced back and forth on the front porch of our church building, playing what could be called a “praise game.” I would start by reciting, “Baruch atah, Adonai Elohim, King of the universe…” and try to remember one of his praiseworthy deeds by the time I said, “who…” It went on for, um, I don’t know how long. It was a while. If you’re assuming no one else was at the building at the time, you’d be right. But hey, if you come by sometime and see me pacing the porch, reciting a scant piece of Hebrew, by all means, jump right in!

     So far I’ve only seen the Grand Canyon from high in the air. Later this year I hope to get down into it. My boots, along with the Colorado River – which runs crazy or lazy at God’s bidding – will do some of the carving. But I promise not to forget who the real sculptor is.

     If possible in this moment, read aloud – and with gusto – the closing words of the Psalm I opened with:

Let everything that has breath praise the LORD!

Praise the LORD! (Psalm 150:6).

    Now what do you hear?

 

    Praise is the way – Hallelujah!

 

 Grace and Peace (from the one worthy of all praise),

 

John