Aussie Rambling Rose

Have you noticed how many TV shows there are about food these days?

Do I sound like a judgemental old fogey in even asking that question?

Don’t get me wrong. I am as obsessed with food as the next person. Though in my case, it is more about managing food intolerances than gourmet cooking. I love to find tasty alternatives, full of texture, to things that I used to enjoy but now need to avoid. Just ask to try my focaccia-pizza next time you’re at my place.

“She needs a glutton-free diet,” a friend whose second language is English recently explained to the manager of an Asian restaurant. Yes, I thought, that is true enough. I didn’t correct that kind friend’s pronunciation. ‘Gluten’ and ‘glutton’ are quite similar in both form and their relationship with food. The manager obviously understood, for before long, the table was covered in tasty delicacies.

Early church leaders in the sixth century identified gluttony as one of the ‘seven deadly sins’, but we don’t talk much about it in today’s church. I was astonished this weekend, however, to find an example of it in ancient Israel … and to realise that a focus on food rather than on God was, in part (though only part), an element of ‘The Great Mistake’. A mistake not outside the providence of the Almighty, but a mistake nonetheless.

Isaac’s intention to bless his older son

The old patriarch, Isaac, now blind, had called for his eldest son, Esau, to receive the family blessing. “Go hunt some wild game and prepare my favourite meal,” he had instructed the hairy man. “Then I shall give you the family blessing.” 

His wife Rebekah, many years his junior but still no spring chicken, had overheard. This could not be, for God had told her himself that the younger son would become dominant over the older one. And God could not be allowed to fail. (That, of course, is another element of ‘The Great Mistake’, deserving of its own blog post.)

As for smooth-skinned Jacob, he was only younger by a matter of minutes. In fact, he had been born with his baby hand firmly grasping his hairy brother’s heel.  Decades later, he and his brother still struggled. 

Sending her younger son to select two fine goats, Rebekah began her work. Mixing the bread, preparing the meat, fashioning sections of the goat hide to cover her younger son’s exposed hands and neck, brushing off the questions of Esau’s wives as she prepared his best clothes, she bustled from one task to the next. By hook or by crook, her ailing husband had to bless the younger man, for God had spoken.

That meal had better be exceptional.

Isaac’s blessing of his younger son

Ageing Isaac’s eyes had failed him, but there was nothing wrong with his tastebuds. 

Esau, his son, was quite the hunter. The wild game that Esau caught and cooked was exceptional. Before passing on the family blessing to his older son in the presence of God, Isaac wanted a meal. A special meal. After all, you can’t just give the kids everything they want on a silver platter. You’ve got to make them work for it, even if just nominally. 

In fact, food was a big part of why the old man favoured Esau over his brother, Jacob. 

“The boys grew up, and Esau became a skilful hunter, a man of the open country, while Jacob was content to stay at home among the tents. Isaac, who had a taste for wild game, loved Esau, but Rebekah loved Jacob.” 

Genesis 25:27-28 NIV

When the younger son brought Isaac some delicious delicacies, along with bread and wine, he knew that something wasn’t quite right. He couldn’t see the man, but the voice of the son carrying the meal was that of Jacob. Never mind that he claimed to be Esau. His hands and neck were hairy though … surprisingly hairy.

Finally, his tastebuds tingling and his stomach satisfied, he called the son to his side. “Kiss me,” said Isaac. As the young man leant over him, old Issac inhaled deeply. Ah yes, the smell of those clothes was that of the outdoors. 

Did the wine dull his senses? Was he lulled into a sense of complacency by the tasty tucker he had enjoyed so much? 

In any case, after the meal was finished, Isaac blessed this man, his son.

But the younger son, not the older one. 

The end of that story

Esau turned up shortly after that. He carried a platter of food and drink, the crowning jewel being the dish made from the meat of a wild animal that had been running free just hours earlier.

Jacob’s deceit came to light. One wonders how much the father and older son realised quite how much Rebekah had been involved in hatching the plot. Certainly Jacob was in a lot of trouble.

Esau was furious, and Isaac visibly shaken. 

Under the guise of finding a wife from their own people, but in fear of his life, Jacob left the family home. He would be away a very long season during which he, the deceiver, would be deceived big time. Esau took yet another wife, a cousin through Ishmael this time, in an effort to please his father.

It didn’t end well. In fact, although some reconciliation would eventually take place, the tension between the brothers would be passed on to their descendants for centuries.

Relevance for 21st century people

Would Isaac have acted differently, say, had he fasted and prayed before such a momentous act as passing on the family blessing rather than licking his lips and chomping down his favourite meal? His example should be a warning to us.

The Bible has a great deal to say about fasting. In fact, just today (as I finalise this blog post, drafted yesterday) our pastor preached on Jesus’ acknowledgement of three significant spiritual disciplines – giving, praying and fasting. (That was from Matthew 6.) Oh yes, the disciples need not fast while Jesus was with them, but Jesus expected them to fast plenty once he had been taken from them. (See Matthew 9, Mark 2 and Luke 5.)

But surely God doesn’t expect us to fast these days? We live by grace, right?

Gluttony is quite acceptable in the food-mad culture in which I live today. In that respect, our culture is not unlike that of the first century Philippians, to whom Paul wrote critically of enemies of Jesus. Look at how he describes them.

“Their end is destruction, their god is their belly and their glory is in their shame. Their minds are set on earthly things.”

Philippians 3:19 NIV

So what is the relevance for us … for me?

I’m not committing to a serious fast. Small blocks here and there, perhaps. If I boasted about it, I would be guilty of exactly the sort of behaviour that Jesus criticised in Matthew 6, the passage that formed the basis for today’s sermon.

For now, all I want to say is this: Our focus needs to be on God rather than food. When our culture pushes us to focus more on food than on God, then we must be counter-cultural.

By the way, the Bible is full of teaching about and examples of fasting AND feasting. It isn’t wrong to enjoy good food. The focus, however, must be on the Giver of all good things, and not on the gifts.

Glutton-free … that is what we need to be.

Those who know me well would recognise the signs.

A patient smile, voice painfully polite, pleasant on the outside but the lava of frustration was gurgling within.

”Why didn’t you say something?” you may ask. Sometimes we should but there are times and places, such as brief conversations with passing acquaintances whose opinions are fixed, when it feels pointless.

I went for a walk, laying my angst out in prayer before Wisdom itself.

What provoked such a reaction, you may wonder? It was actually a ‘testimony to God’s goodness’.

Blessed

This is what was said: “God has been good to me. Everyone around me has become sick, but God has kept me healthy. Praise his name!”

At this point, you probably think that I am an oversensitive soul who needs to ‘get a grip’. And you are probably right.

There are two aspects of this ’testimony’ that bug me. Really bug me. Like a mosquito that comes at you in the dark from all angles, viciously buzzing.

The first is the inference that God cares more about this individual’s well-being than he does about that of those around her. It sounded like she was bragging that she is one of God’s favourites.

The second is the expectation that if I am a Christian, life will be a bed of roses, minus the thorns. Which implies, then, that when life is tough, the fault lies with me.

No thinking Bible-literate Christian would agree with these two inferences, obviously.

But we don’t always think.

Causes and effects

The Bible is full of teaching about how blessings and curses follow obedience and rebellion respectively.

But just the same, quite apart from blessings and curses, sometimes bad things happen to good people.

Actions and even attitudes have consequences. Daily choices like wearing a seatbelt (or not), eating healthily (or not) and … dare I say it … availing oneself of all that modern medicine has to offer (or not) can sometimes directly affect one’s quality of life.

But just the same, quite apart from actions and consequences, sometimes bad things happen to good people.

In contrast to the Scriptures about blessings and curses, there are also Scriptures promising persecution and suffering for those who follow God wholeheartedly. Followers of Jesus whose lives resemble the great men and women of old, some of whom were stoned, sawn in half, homeless or harassed, but all of whom stood firm in their faith, are praised.

But I’m actually not talking about persecution which comes for following Jesus either. Sometimes, quite apart from that, bad things just happen to good people.

Why such a strong reaction?

The comment made by that well-meaning person who just wanted to give glory to God for keeping her healthy hit a nerve in me.

You see, all around me, people are getting sick. Not so long ago, we buried a godly woman who was just three years my senior. A few months earlier, it was another peer who was also a beautiful Christian lady. Others in my circle of family and friends are currently facing their own health challenges. Covid has also impacted many people dear to me, not just in terms of the disease itself but also the isolation imposed in an effort to control its spread. Friends in another part of the world are still enduring that now. And, of course, covid continues to create chaos in our communities here too.

Why should God be kind to one individual and keep that person well when he is apparently unwilling to intervene in the lives of other struggling brothers and sisters in Christ? Does he like some people more than others?

Consider the birds

”It’s not fair,” I stormed at God as I stomped around the wetlands behind the supermarket not far from home. Bad things sometimes happen to good people, despite their faith in God. Others, however, seem to sail through life with barely a hiccup.

As I stomped and stewed, the sun sank lower in the sky. Birds of all sizes soared and swooped down to their roosts, singing lustily.

Was that a still, small voice whispering beneath the cacophany of bird calls? Or was it a combination of two memorised verses surfacing? Or was it both?

“Consider the birds.… Aren’t you much more valuable to your Father than they?“

Matthew 6:26 TPT

…. not even one sparrow falls from its nest without the knowledge of your Father. Aren’t you worth much more to God than many sparrows?

Matthew 10:29 TPT

God does not always supernaturally intervene in the lives of his children, but that does not mean that he does not care. He knows what we are enduring.

And, of course, sometimes he does heal or relieve or rescue us. And so I keep asking for that, until the ’no’ is final or circumstances change.

God knows

I sincerely hope that the well-meaning lady whose comments sparked this blog post stays healthy even while everyone around her crashes. But I don’t think that any of us can expect life to be hunky dory simply because we trust in God.

Oh yes, God is good to us. I have stories of my own about how God has stepped in with extra special blessings at times. I am grateful and usually quick to give God due credit. But when he doesn’t intervene, he is no less present or concerned.

Consider the birds. God knows and cares about each of them. How much more does he know all that is going on for us and care about us, his children?

I began this blog post with the question, ’Does God like you more than other people?’ God certainly shows us grace, mercy and kindness at different times, but favouritism? Theologies of election and foreknowledge are complicated but this I know: our degree of well being in life does not reflect how much God loves us.

God’s care and knowledge over his creation is infinite. He follows the movements of each duck, cockatoo, magpie, swamp hen, ibis, darter, swallow and many more besides. How much more does he care about us, his children?!

I am still not quite sure if or how I will respond next time old cranky pants (me) perceives that somebody is bragging that God has been kinder to them than to others. Even worse, it may even be me that brags, mindless of the plight of others.

A testimony to God’s goodness is always appropriate. But an attitude that God likes me better than he does you, even if it is unspoken and the speaker unaware of it, is just not on.

——————————

PS Please don’t hesitate to share testimonies of God’s goodness to you. Super sensitive Suzanne is getting off her soapbox now 😉.

I don’t approve of plucking a verse out of context and ‘claiming it’ for a specific purpose. It seems almost irresponsible.

But that is what I did earlier this week.

And it was exactly what I needed in my position as a member of a church which was about to welcome a new pastor.

I was visiting a local Bible college. Another visitor there was speaking at chapel. He had worked overseas for years and had now been asked to impart his wisdom to us. I was sitting at the end of the second row from the back of the room, near the door, trying to be inconspicuous. I planned to slip away when the students and staff broke into prayer groups.

I had another meeting to get to, you see. In that meeting, a few of us would meet our new pastor. I admit that even though I was physically present in the college chapel service, my thoughts were focused on the following commitment. How can we support this new pastor, and what is ahead for our church in this ‘new season’?

A ‘life verse’

I dragged my attention back to the present. The speaker was wrapping up his talk and it was now ‘Question and Answer’ time.

A student asked, ‘How do you keep going during discouraging and difficult times?’

“Ask the Lord for a ‘life verse’,” the speaker said. “Then when times get tough, you can look back on it and be encouraged to persevere.”

I shot up a prayer. Despite my reticence to take a verse out of context and apply it to my life here and now without at least considering the original context, I prayed. “If there is anything you would point me to, Lord, please do show me.”

And somehow, imperceptibly, I felt drawn to 1 Thessalonians 5:12. Deep in the recesses of my mind, I guessed it would say something about ‘Rejoice, give thanks and pray always.” (See 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18.) That would be an eminently suitable ‘life verse’ … or ‘life verses’ to be strictly accurate.

It did not say that.

A verse (and a half) for this season

I punched the reference into the electronic Bible on my iPad, my mind still on the topic of our new pastor and this new season for our church.

I could hardly believe my eyes. This was the ‘perfect verse’ for me to meditate upon on this first day we officially came under our new pastor’s watch. I am including the first part of the following verse as well. I hope that fellow members of our church will spend time in this verse-and-a-half too, because I sense that this is God’s Word for us just now. I am writing this blog post in part so that I can share it with fellow church members.

Now we ask you, brothers and sisters, to acknowledge those who work hard among you, who care for you in the Lord and who admonish you. Hold them in the highest regard in love because of their work. 

1 Thessalonians 5:12-13a NIV

Yet although this verse may be spot on for our situation, I still can’t quite bring myself to apply it to a 21st century Australian church in Melbourne’s outer east without considering its original context.

1 Thessalonians – the authors

“We ask you…,” the verse begins. Who is the ‘we’?

Going back to the beginning of 1 Thessalonians, we see that the letter is written by Paul, Silas and Timothy.

Paul was a great first century missionary to the Gentiles, we know. He had once been known as Saul, a pious Pharisee, passionate for what he perceived as the purity of their people. Then the risen Lord Jesus had powerfully convinced him of his divinity and Paul’s life direction changed.

At one point, Silas had been a senior leader of the Christian community in Jerusalem and a prophet (Acts 15:22, 32). Leaders of the community there sent him to Antioch to clearly convey their decisions about Gentiles and the gospel (Acts 15:22). Some time later, Paul invited him to join him in his missionary endeavours after parting ways with his former co-worker, Barnabas (Acts 15:40).

Timothy was an emerging leader whose mother was Jewish and his father Greek. It wasn’t until he was an adult and about to embark on the missionary journey during which Paul wrote the letter to the Thessalonians that Paul circumcised him (Acts 16:3). Ouch.

Almost 2000 years ago, God specifically called Paul, Silas and Timothy to Macedonia through a vision, as well as keeping them time and again from travelling elsewhere. (See Acts 16:5-10.) The leading was SO clear, yet plenty of trouble followed them as they travelled throughout Macedonia. (See Acts 16 and 17.) God’s crystal clear leading doesn’t necessarily guarantee a smooth ministry experience.

If Paul had a ‘life verse’ to fall back on when times were tough, I expect that it would have been the words from God which he received in a vision in the Temple in Jerusalem following his conversion to Christ. (The words had been spoken by God to Paul, but the record not compiled until some time after he wrote the letter to the Thessalonians, most likely. So, strictly speaking, it wasn’t exactly a ‘verse’ at the time. But it was God’s Word.) Paul related the event to a crowd in Jerusalem after his arrest some time after sending that letter to the Thessalonians. He said, “Then the Lord said to me, ‘Go; I will send you far away to the Gentiles’ ” (Acts 22:21 NIV).

That didn’t go down well with the crowd in Jerusalem. But remembering God’s call on his life surely kept Paul going when times got tough.

1 Thessalonians – the recipients

“We ask you….,” the verse begins. Who are the ‘you’?

This letter was written to Thessalonian Christians. The city we now call Thessaloniki is located in modern-day Greece, in a region still called ‘Macedonia’. Greek Macedonia, comprised of the regions of Western, Eastern and Central Macedonia, borders the neighbouring country known today as the ‘Republic of Macedonia’ or ‘North Macedonia’.

Despite dramas there, culminating in the new believers whisking Paul and his companions out of the region, a church was established. It was made up of “some of the Jews … a large number of God-fearing Greeks and quite a few prominent women” (Acts 17:4 NIV).

It was to these followers of the risen Jesus – men and women, Jews and Gentiles – that Paul wrote. He urged them “… to acknowledge those who work hard among you, who care for you in the Lord and who admonish you. Hold them in the highest regard in love because of their work” (1 Thessalonians 5:12-13a NIV). We are not given clues as to the identity of any specific individuals he had in mind, but clearly he was referring to leaders in that community.

To acknowledge

‘Acknowledge those who (1) work hard among you, (2) who care for you in the Lord, and (3) who admonish you,’ we read in 1 Thessalonians 5:12. I added the emphasis on the main verb and the numbering of the three clauses which describe those leaders whom the original recipients were to acknowledge – obviously.

It seems more than reasonable that this exhortation is as relevant for followers of Jesus in Mooroolbark in 2022 as it was for those in Europe back in perhaps about 50AD.

It is easy enough to acknowledge those who work hard among us and who care for us in the Lord. Especially when we benefit. We admire people who work hard. We like to feel cared for and valued.

Acknowledging those who admonish us isn’t comfortable though. How dare anyone admonish us?! It is easier to ignore them, at best, or react with hostility and perhaps even withdraw from the community.

At the moment, we are all just beginning a ‘honeymoon period’ with our new pastor. The time will come, though, when admonishment is appropriate. Perhaps the problem will be obvious to all and the need for correction will be clear. But perhaps it will be about something less obvious such as an ungodly attitude or a critical spirit.

When that day comes, may we … may I … remember this verse and acknowledge the one whom God has placed in leadership over us. He won’t be perfect anymore than any of us are perfect, but he is our God-given leader for this season of time.

To hold (someone) in the highest regard in love

‘To hold (someone) in the highest regard in love’ – what a convoluted concept. Those we admire, we hold in high regard. We love for a variety of reasons, and at times we love simply because we choose to and not even because our hearts feel fuzzy. Paul, Silas and Timothy urged Thessalonian Christians to hold their leaders in the highest regard in love, combining both concepts into one.

On what basis were those early Macedonian Christians to do this? It was because of the work of their leaders amongst them. “Hold them in the highest regard in love because of their work” (1 Thessalonians 5:13a), we read.

That was then. This is now. May we hold our new pastor in the highest regard in love because of his work amongst us. May we speak well of him when with others even if we are tempted to slip into criticism or complaint. (Conflict may need to be dealt with at times, but appropriately and not behind backs.) May we always assume positive intent on his part, even when we don’t understand what is going on. And may we love him and his family well, in actions as well as words.

A new season

Paul, Silas and Timothy originally penned those words to first century believers on the other side of the world. Having considered the context back then, I am now satisfied that this passage of Scripture is as relevant for us today as it was for them. I’m not taking a passage out of context and applying it to my own situation willy-nilly.

And so, as we begin a new season in the life of the church, it is my hope and prayer that we will acknowledge the man God has sent to work hard among us, to care well for us … and to admonish us when necessary. May we hold him in the highest regard in love because of his work.

It won’t always be easy. He will struggle at times just as we fail here and there too.

When difficult times come, may I, for one, look back at the day God ‘gave me a verse’ there in the second back row of the space used as a chapel at the Bible College. May I respond in obedience when times are tough.

And may my fellow brothers and sisters in the Lord do likewise.

It’s Palm Sunday.  Like many of Jesus’ followers around the world, today at the Baptist church in Mooroolbark we spent time thinking about that first Palm Sunday. 

We remembered how Jesus entered Jerusalem on a donkey, heralded by jubilant followers shouting praises to God. He made his way to Jerusalem under a canopy of palm branches and carried over a ‘red carpet equivalent’ comprised of peoples’ cloaks laid on the path. We looked at Luke 19:28-44.

“We often make a mistake when we read about Palm Sunday in the gospels,” the preacher said. “We interpret it from the perspective of already knowing what was to come. Most of those who were key players on the day had no idea of what would transpire in the days ahead.” 

What were they thinking, I wonder? How did they experience the day? 

Hence this blog post. 

Susanna’s perspective

(According to Luke 8:1-3, a number of women were amongst those who followed Jesus on his travels. Clearly I am attracted to Susanna because of her name being like mine. That’s why I am choosing to try and put myself in her sandals that first Palm Sunday as I write this blog post.)

[Jesus] “… went on to tell them a parable, because he was near Jerusalem and the people thought that the kingdom of God was going to appear at once.”  Luke 18:11 NIV

“When they came near the place where the road goes down the Mount of Olives, the whole crowd of disciples began joyfully to praise God in loud voices for all the miracles they had seen.” Luke 19:37 NIV

It’s time. It’s finally time!

We can see the city of Jerusalem from the hilltop right now. We have seen his miracles – one after another after another, as we’ve followed him about this nation. His power is indisputable. We know the Scriptures. And today – right now – we are part of fulfilling Scripture. Can you believe it?! What an honour!

The King has come! King Jesus, the Messiah, is entering his city NOW!

Waving palm branches is our custom when welcoming a victorious king into the city. So of course the young men raced off to gather enough branches for us all to wave about.

We all threw our cloaks on the ground so that he could enter his city on a pathway befitting a king. My cloak was particularly beautiful. It was made of lovely soft brown wool. It wasn’t cheap, and I have always taken good care of it. I was honoured to see the hooves of that young donkey carrying our king clomp right on top of it. 

And now here we are, singing and shouting Psalms and spiritual songs. Children are dancing. Even though a middle-aged woman, I find myself doing a bit of a jig, clapping along. The atmosphere is incredible, with an energy like I have never sensed before.

In only a few days time, we will celebrate the Passover. The first Passover was when God rescued his people from slavery in ancient times. 

God is about to do it again, and permanently this time. His Messiah – this same Teacher whom we have been following about the country – will usher in a period of peace and stability. 

And I’m welcoming him to his city, right here, right now. I can scarcely believe it. 

A Pharisee’s perspective

This is not right. 

In fact, it is downright wrong. 

Blasphemy, it is. How can a mere mortal claim to be God? We cannot allow this. 

Zechariah prophesied that the Messiah would enter Jerusalem on a donkey, and that judgement would follow. How dare this man manipulate the people by acting out that prophecy. We know what he is up to, setting up symbolism like this, even if the wretched Romans don’t.

See, your king comes to you,    
righteous and victorious,
lowly and riding on a donkey,
    on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

Zechariah 9:9 NIV

He has clearly whipped these ignoramuses into a frenzy. We tried to stop them carrying on in such a blasphemous manner, but they were beyond listening to reason. 

And so my fellow Pharisees and I marched up to the heretic, now seated on that blinking donkey. 

“Teacher, rebuke your disciples,” we said. Politely, we spoke. Voices calm, with the dignity befitting our station. 

His reply was unfathomable. Chilling, in fact, to those of us who know the Scriptures. For he quoted another prophet, Habakkuk, who spoke of judgement. Although Habakkuk had originally spoken of the suffering caused by foreign invaders, we understood that in this context, Jesus was once again criticising us. He has done that time after time after time. How dare he speak a word against the very ones responsible for preserving the righteous standards of God’s people. 

“You have plotted the ruin of many peoples, shaming your own house and forfeiting your life. The stones of the wall will cry out, and the beams of the woodwork will echo it.” (Habakkuk 2:10-11 NIV)

Habakkuk 2:10-11 NIV

“I tell you, if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out,” he replied.

This man has gone too far……

Jesus’ perspective

Oh Jerusalem. My dear, dear Jerusalem.

My heart throbs as we approach the city. I love the people of Jerusalem. I have loved this city for centuries.  If only … if only … oh, I cannot bear it. My chest constricts, my breathing is shallow and ragged, and all my muscles are as tight as tight can be despite the fact that I’m just sitting here on this donkey.

In my mind’s eye, I can see it already. My beloved city surrounded by enemies, embankments built up against its walls, its people terrified. And then … oh, it is too awful to contemplate. Not one stone left on another. My people slaughtered………

Why, Jerusalem, can you not see that I have come to you this very day? 

Why, leaders of my people, have you rejected me? 

Why has my Father hidden from your eyes the peace that I offer you? 

These followers around me can see it. They are honouring me as king, though there is so much that they don’t understand. 

But there in the city of God is only darkness. 

My heart feels as if it will break. Sobs wrack my chest; my shoulders shudder; tears run down my face; the jubilant cries around me abate as my loyal followers stare in shock at my grief displayed in all its awfulness.

Why, Jerusalem? Why? 

From the perspective of 2022

Three individuals. 

Three very different perspectives.

Zechariah’s prophecy was fulfilled in part that day, yet not in the way that people expected. With the benefit of hindsight, we can understand more than people of the day did, but I’m pretty sure that we don’t have the full picture yet either. 

Almost two millennia have passed since that day. Throughout the centuries, Jesus’ suffering followers have taken courage from the image of the New Jerusalem that will one day be our home. 

In the meantime, we wait … and watch … and wonder. May I live up to my namesake, that of first century Susanna, who did not understand but wholeheartedly followed Jesus, singing ‘Hosanna’ as he entered Jerusalem. There is a lot that I don’t understand either, but I sing nonetheless, too.

Specifically, today, I am singing the song ‘Shout! Hosanna!’, a song produced by ‘Passion Conferences’. Yes, it was written with the benefit of hindsight. And that intensifies yet further the wonder of that first Palm Sunday.

Our king entered Jerusalem. The people at the time thought that the kingdom of God was going to appear at once. As it turned out, there was much more to come. It would involve not only Susanna of old but also Suzanne of 2022 and a great many more in-between.

What an honour.

It’s one of my favourite verses in the whole Bible. And it was part of this morning’s Lenten devotion.

“He will cover you with his feathers,
And under his wings you will find refuge….”

Psalm 91:4a

In fact, the whole Psalm is magnificent. During these days of wars, disease and natural disasters, more than ever, we do well to meditate on it. Even as write these words, I find myself humming the beautiful old hymn, ‘Under his wings’, and so looked it up. It is playing in the background as I write.

My morning meditations led to this blog post. Thanks for reading along.

Psalm 91 NIV

Let me copy the Psalm here for our convenience, since I am about to jot a few thoughts about it.

¹ Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High
    will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
² I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress,
    my God, in whom I trust.”

³ Surely he will save you
    from the fowler’s snare
    and from the deadly pestilence.
⁴ He will cover you with his feathers,
    and under his wings you will find refuge;
    his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.
⁵ You will not fear the terror of night,
    nor the arrow that flies by day,
⁶ nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,
    nor the plague that destroys at midday.
⁷ A thousand may fall at your side,
    ten thousand at your right hand,
    but it will not come near you.
⁸ You will only observe with your eyes
    and see the punishment of the wicked.

⁹ If you say, “The Lord is my refuge,”
    and you make the Most High your dwelling,
¹⁰ no harm will overtake you,
    no disaster will come near your tent.
¹¹ For he will command his angels concerning you
    to guard you in all your ways;
¹² they will lift you up in their hands,
    so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.
¹³ You will tread on the lion and the cobra;
    you will trample the great lion and the serpent.

¹⁴ “Because he loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him;
    I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.
¹⁵ He will call on me, and I will answer him;
    I will be with him in trouble,
    I will deliver him and honor him.
¹⁶ With long life I will satisfy him
    and show him my salvation.”

Context now

‘A Pandemic Prayer’, some have termed this Psalm.”Pray Psalm 91 for 91 days and God will protect you,” they say. (No, I’m not providing references for that paraphrased quote, because I do not think it is helpful.)

Of course, it’s good to pray the Psalms. The Prayer Book of the Israelite people is packed with helpful models for our own prayers. However, let me begin this reflection with a note of caution against taking verses out of context and applying them literally to our specific circumstances. I do not want to throw a wet blanket over the glorious flame of confidence and assurance that this Psalm provides us during these difficult days. Indeed, these precious words offer real hope.

Horrific war scenes confront us in the media every day, and I can’t imagine how it is for those who are actually experiencing the destruction and bloodshed. And then there is ongoing isolation and frustration, let alone health and economic challenges, that people still face because of the pandemic. I am thinking particularly of friends in Asia whose movements have been severely restricted for over two years now. Closer to home, some of my fellow countrymen are suffering homelessness, loss of income and trauma after repeated floods.

My life right now is pretty comfortable. I’m healthy, happy and as safe as anyone in our crazy world can be. So I am aware that the position from which I jot these following thought is privileged. Nevertheless, let me push on with some reflections.

Context then

In the book of Deuteronomy, and particularly in chapter 28, we read of God’s promise of prosperity for the nation of Israel if they live according to God’s Law, but also the threat of oppression and plague if they forsake God. While the principles of Psalm 91 can be applied to us as individuals, I don’t think that we can expect to be protected from all trouble in the same way that the nation of Israel was promised prosperity for obedience.

What’s more, our enemy, the opposer of God’s people, Satan, modelled for us the error of quoting verses of hope and promise from this very Psalm without considering the broader context. Centuries after this Psalm was penned, when our Enemy tempted the very Son of God, Satan quoted verses 11 and 12 to our Lord.

Surely God would send his angels, as promised, to protect Jesus were he to throw himself off the temple, the enemy suggested. Jesus responded by quoting another Old Testament Scripture – ‘Do not put the Lord your God to the test.’ (Matthew 4:7 and Luke 4:12, Deuteronomy 6:16.)

So how can we apply Psalm 91 to our lives in the messed-up world of 2022 without misusing the Word of God like our enemy did?

Make the Most High our dwelling

We’re called to make the Most High our dwelling. But how do we do that? How can we metaphorically shelter under his feathers, covered by his strong wing, as verse four so beautifully describes?

Space does not permit me to write much on this very important matter, but I think the answer is obvious. It is simple yet difficult. It is can be summed up in one word: FAITH.

It is simple to say that we believe in God. In times of trouble, of course, more than ever, we throw ourselves upon him, seeking that shelter under his wings, snugly enveloped by his feathers. It is comforting to reflect on the fact that angels surround us, looking out for us, even though we can’t see them.

Yet it is difficult to throw ourselves on God at times. When we are faced with problems, our minds quickly turn to worry, to try and figure out how to overcome the difficulties in which we find ourselves, and how to ‘pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps’ … however that works. (Yes, I went down that rabbit trail of enquiry in preparing these thoughts too but again, space is limited. If you’re interested, check out this article: https://uselessetymology.com/2019/11/07/the-origins-of-the-phrase-pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps/ )

The bottom line is this: We need to very deliberately, frequently and ideally in the company of other followers of our Lord, turn our minds to him. ‘Meditation’, English translations of the Bible call it, though that word has other connotations these days too.

How does God rescue us?

I wish … I REALLY wish … that God would make the lives of his people like a bed of roses without the thorns. However, we need look no further than the example of our Lord Jesus himself to realise that clearly, this is not what the Psalm is promising those who fix our minds on God.

The Bible is full of examples of prophets, disciples, apostles and others who endured dreadful suffering. They did it tough not only because they lived in a broken world, but often specifically because of their faith in God. Jesus actually predicted great trouble for his disciples, though in the same breath he assured them that he had overcome the world (John 16:33).

The answer to the question, ‘How does God rescue us?’ is simply ‘Jesus’. Psalm 91 not only had relevance for the nation of Israel as they obeyed … or disobeyed … their Lord, but it pointed ahead to the day when Jesus would endure tremendous suffering so as to save God’s people once and for all. Jesus refused to succumb to the temptation of testing God’s promises to suit his own ends, as the Enemy suggested.

As I delved into how others make sense of this Psalm in our stricken world, I stumbled across a delightful meditation written by a Nigerian brother. Through his death and resurrection, Jesus opened the door for us to ‘dwell with God’ for eternity. He expressed it better than I can:

Psalm 91 was not Jesus’ excuse for avoiding the cross; rather that scripture was His reason for going to the cross.

Ayokunle Fagunwa, Lagos, Nigeria, https://journal.cjgh.org/index.php/cjgh/article/view/461/869

Hope

Psalm 91 offers us hope for the here and now. Praying these words during difficult times is helpful and the images the Psalm offers us are comforting. However, the full extent of the hope it offers will only be experienced when we, as a nation, live under the Lordship of the Most High, the Lord Almighty.

I’m not talking here about the nation of Australia, though it would be fabulous if we would turn as one to our Creator. No, I am talking about the kingdom of God’s people – a kingdom in which we already have citizenship. We remain in this broken and hurting world for a while longer but Scripture assures us that our citizenship is in heaven. (See, for example, John 14:2, Philippians 3:20, Hebrews 13:14, 1 Peter 1:4 and Revelation 21-22.)

A city

I started this blog post with the comforting picture of snuggling securely under the wings of the Most High. It is right to meditate on Biblical images such as this, especially in the midst of chaos and destruction. It is a cosy image.

But let me now finish with another Biblical image which is also worth meditating upon during these uncertain and difficult days. The picture is not anywhere near as cosy, though quite majestic. It is that of a city. Not just any city, but the New Jerusalem.

“Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people, and he will dwell with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God. ‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”

Revelation 21:3-4 NIV

And so, in the midst of difficulties, let us remember that we belong to the Kingdom of God. May we keep our thoughts fixed on the Most High One, and thus ‘making the Lord Most High our dwelling’. One day, together with all God’s people, bouncing with all the energy and beauty of our resurrected bodies, we shall fully experience all of that which Psalm 91 promises and which Jesus brought about.

In the meantime, we snuggle under those feathers, protected by those strong wings.

Television presenter and ambassador for a walking charity, Kate Humble set herself a goal. She would journal her walks for a year, observing changes of season, locations, relationships and, above all, her thinking.

She edited and compiled her pieces into a book. A book which I’m enjoying. It’s not a book you would sit down and read from cover to cover in one sitting. It’s more of a box-of-chocolates-type-book that you dip into now and then, enjoying one journal entry at a time.

I’m impressed at the way this writer pulls the reader into her world through her rich descriptions. Just today, I read of her unexpected encounter with friends on a cold afternoon in the damp British countryside … friends who had a Primus stove, water, cups and tea bags. I could almost taste the tea and feel the warmth of the cup in my hands.

Yet I was half a world away, on a back porch of a small unit in Melbourne.

What could I see, hear, feel and taste, I wondered? I went inside, made a cup of coffee and took some risen dough out of the bread maker and spread it on a pizza plate. I brought both out to the back porch, and sat in the sun as the dough rose under the greaseproof covering.

I decided to jot a few notes in the style of the author, Kate Humble. Her book, however, was called ‘Thinking on my Feet’. I’m all for pondering life while walking, but in this case, I thought on my derriere.

It turned out to be quite a meditative process, though that had not been my intention.

My jottings, only slightly edited, follow.

Twenty minutes

‘Rest’ is the priority on luxurious Sunday afternoons.

Children over the fence are playing. They are pretending. “Okay, you can be the shop lady and I’ll be the customer.”

A butterfly flits over fallen leaves, its oranges and browns blending in … well, the browns anyhow. It would be nice if the autumn leaves were more autumnal and less … dead.

Birds of different varieties twitter or whistle or sing. The cat reclines, gazing over her dominion. Near where I sit, a tiny brown spider spins a web, circling around and around in ever tighter circles. 

I am distracted momentarily by my dinging phone, though happily so, for it represents connections with people dear to me.

Coffee cools, focaccia rises, time marches on.

It’s time to dress the focaccia with pizza-like toppings and put it in the oven. Creative cooking is, for me, a restorative activity on a day of rest. 

A haven of peace in a world gone quite mad is my overgrown, neglected backyard. As if on cue with my thoughts of discord, from over the fence I hear a raised little voice. 

“Not fair. I’m not playing anymore.”  

A door slams.

‘Shalom’ is shattered.

One day….

Final comments

The Bible has a lot to say about rest, as well as about suffering and decay.

‘Shalom’ is God’s ideal but creation is corrupted. The effects of sin’s curse are all around us. Yet even within this mess, we gain glimpses of ‘shalom’. Our weekly days of rest point us to the ‘capital R’ ‘REST’ that God has promised us.

The Bible puts it this way:

For the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God.

Romans 8:19-21 NIV

One day……

After that big heading – ‘It’s Time’ – I have to admit that there is no grand announcement.

I have thoroughly enjoyed a book about time this past week and had even outlined a blog post based on it. Then this morning our pastor preached about ‘time’. I sense that God has a lesson for me to learn, and this blog post is my way of processing. If it helps another person along the way, that’s even better.

This is not how you’re meant to start a post. Bloggers are advised to start with an attention grabbing question. If you’re still with me, here goes … take two.

How do I use well the weeks allotted to me?

Did you know that, on average, Americans live for four thousand weeks each? The overall lifespan of Australians is a little longer. You can check those figures and more here if you’re interested: https://apps.who.int/gho/data/node.main.688

I have spent one of my four thousand weeks at home this past week. I had a lovely weekend staying with dear friends seven days ago, one of whom later tested positive for covid. Hence my time at home.

I have enjoyed a leisurely week of pottering about. I have done some long overdue jobs. I’ve spent time with friends online. And I have read a book. A book called ‘Four Thousand Weeks’ by Oliver Burkeman.

Then today, in our associate’s pastor’s sermon on ‘time’ – a similar topic – I was challenged again. In case you wondered, of course I ‘attended’ church online. I am isolating until a whisker past midnight tonight, as I write. God willing.

καιρὸς (kairos) – Time for something significant

The opening line of today’s sermon was, ‘It’s Time’. Imitation is the highest form of flattery, and so I am naming this blog post, ‘It’s Time’. Thanks, Pastor Andrew.

We learnt about the Greek concept of καιρὸς (kairos), which is the sense of ‘time’ in terms of it being the opportune time for a particular event or action. In the written records of Jesus’ announcement, ‘The time has come,’ at the beginning of his public ministry, for example, the word καιρὸς (kairos) was used.

Our pastor challenged us to seek God’s direction and to commit wholeheartedly to that to which he is calling us, holding ourselves accountable to one another. His own calling, and that of his family, is fairly clear … it was time for them to say goodbye and move to a new sphere of ministry. This was his ‘farewell sermon’.

What I am doing with my four thousand weeks? I’m already well over halfway through. Although not unhappy with the way I’ve spent my first 2821 weeks, I’d like to be more intentional about how I use the time that remains to me.

In the rest of this blog post, I will share just three gems from that book, ‘Four Thousand Weeks’. The author does not purport to be a Christian, but the insights I have gleaned from the wisdom of that self-proclaimed ‘former productivity guru’ are certainly applicable to people like me. And that probably includes you, if you’re still reading along.

Accept our limitations

Over this past week at home, I rather fancied digging up my garden and shovelling compost through it all, fixing the gate, cleaning the walls, writing the first draft of a book, organising my cupboards and drawers, sorting the contents of my fridge and freezer, working through a Tibetan language textbook, reading the book about time that I have referred to as well as a travel book about a couple walking along the south-west coast of Britain and keeping up my usual online commitments.

Can you guess how much of that ambitious list I actually achieved?

We are not God. We are not even autonomous. The Bible is full of instructions and examples of how we are members of a body, each with different roles and gifts.

Pick three priorities, advised the author of ‘Four Thousand Weeks’. Then focus on one at a time.

One.

Of course, it’s fine to potter in the garden and keep my home clean and tidy. But I need to let go of unreasonable aspirations. Most dangerous, Burkeman suggests, are those things which we REALLY want to do and which may well rank fourth or fifth in our list of priorities.

He suggests that procrastination is caused, in part, by our unwillingness to accept our limitations. We put off doing something important because we think that we should be able to do it and everything else as well. We refuse to accept the alternative.

I have a book project. I’m excited about it. Yet most days I put off working on my book, even though I would call it a very high priority. Instead of sitting down to it, I busy myself with administrative tasks, check social media and the news headlines, trim my toenails, empty my compost container and more. None of these things are bad and some are even necessary … but I can’t do everything. If the book is my priority, then working on the book is what I want to be doing first and foremost.

It’s time … time to accept my limitations and to choose my priorities.

Accept the ‘pain’ of imperfection

I want it and I want it NOW.

‘It’ being success and completion. Now every author will tell you that before their book or article is published, they produce a pretty poor first draft. Their second draft isn’t much better. But they keep working on it. This blog post included.

The author of ‘Four Thousand Weeks’ suggests that we need to learn to face the pain of incompletion and of exerting patience. That, too, I realise, is another reason why I procrastinate with my writing project. It isn’t comfortable to have a far-less-than-perfect project. In fact, sometimes it feels almost painful to just sit and focus on even a small section of it. I’m a modern woman who is used to sound bite equivalents of information and I am ridiculously easily distracted.

As followers of Jesus, should we not be even more equipped than the average atheist to accept the pain of imperfection? There are many magnificent passages in the New Testament about this frustration, along with the hope of one day finally being perfect, like Jesus. The apostle Paul expressed it like this:

I want to know Christ—yes, to know the power of his resurrection and participation in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so, somehow, attaining to the resurrection from the dead. Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

Philippians 3:10-14 NIV

It’s time … time to accept the pain of imperfection and push through.

Break tasks down

We have, on average, about four thousand weeks in life. What can I do in one week?

We have 24 hours in a day. What can I do in one hour?

I have 20 minutes right now. What can I do in 20 minutes?

The author of ‘Four Thousand Weeks’ formerly wrote about techniques to improve productivity – that was his profession. It’s a rather niche market, I know. These days, he focuses more on writing about how to live a fulfilled life.

His tip about breaking big jobs down into smaller units remains helpful. I’ve had success with it before, using a technique marketed as ‘The Pomodoro Technique’. How do I use the time that God has given me right here and now?

I’m feeling quite overwhelmed about the idea of writing a book. It’s too big a job. Even a simple blog post always takes far longer than I anticipate. Who am I to write about matters on which others are far better qualified? (The planned book is about cross-cultural missions.) Yet I perceive that there is a gap in the resources out there and that God has called me to write in this space.

With the help of a friend, I have already broken the dreamed-of-book down into smaller chunks. With the accountability support of another friend, I am now plugging away on it at 20 minutes at a time. Some days, I simply open the document and edit a little. If that’s all I can do, that’s fine. At least it is something.

It’s time … time to settle down and focus on one very small part of my project at a time.

It’s time

We have four thousand weeks each, on average. We can’t do everything. We are each uniquely gifted and called. What is God asking of each of us?

In my case, I sense that it is time to get this book project completed.

I love it when themes emerge from various spheres of life. This past week, it has been the book I have read (Four Thousand Weeks), outlining this blog post ready to write up today, then the sermon given at church this morning.

It’s time for action.

Well … action on the book project, anyhow.

It was a literal storm. 

All night they had strained with every fibre of each muscle in their arms, legs, backs and chests to keep the boat afloat. Wind howled, stars were obliterated by clouds, and the darkness above was as black as the waters below. Up and down, back and forth, from side to side, they were tossed about. And all that after an emotional rollercoaster of a day – the peaks and troughs of the previous day like that of the dark sea beneath their flimsy vessel. 

It had started with shocking news. One they respected, a cousin of their Lord, had been beheaded at the order of a ruler they feared.

“Come away,” said their master. But the crowds had found them.

“Feed the people,” said their master. But with what?

And then after their Lord had done the impossible, he had dismissed the crowds and sent them ahead of him in this boat.

But then this nightmare of a storm hit.

Bright light broke into the darkness. A figure emerged from the inky blackness. Was is it a ghost? Tentacles of fear tightened, threatening to squeeze the life out of their pounding hearts. 

And then the figure spoke.

“Take courage. It is I. Don’t be afraid.”

Storms of life

It was a metaphorical storm.

The story is not mine to tell. Suffice to say that as I meditated on Jesus’ words, “It is I” – words which had caught my attention as part of my Bible Study Fellowship class (BSF) that day – I received a message.

‘Urgent, Urgent, Urgent – Please pray,’ it began.

I prayed fervently for a brother in a crisis.

“Take courage. It is I. Do not be afraid.” Those words kept surfacing in my mind.

Yes, these words are out of context. Yet the truth is that Jesus’ Spirit is in all of us who follow him in this post-Pentecost age.

He doesn’t necessarily prevent the storms, nor quell them the moment they begin, despite our frequent requests to that end.

Yet with us he most definitely is.

And so we can take courage.

ἐγώ εἰμι – ego eimi – I am

“Take courage. It is I. Do not be afraid.” (Matthew 14:27 NIV)

My interest was piqued by that middle sentence, ‘It is I’. In Greek, the original language in which the Gospel was recorded, the phrase was ἐγώ εἰμι [ego eimi], literally meaning ‘I am’. It is nicely bracketed by a pair of exhortations – Take courage,’ and ‘Do not be afraid’. 

As stormy waves buffeted their boat, the distressed disciples could indeed take heart in one fact and one fact alone.

Their beloved teacher had arrived.

When the ancient Hebrew Scriptures were translated into the Greek of New Testament times, ‘Ego eimi’ appeared in the translation. It was the phrase used to translate the name of God given in Exodus 3:13-14 when God revealed himself as the ‘I AM”.

In declaring to his terrified disciples that night on the tumultuous sea that he was ‘I AM’, Jesus was claiming nothing less than divinity. He was – and is – in very nature God.

And that was good reason for courage and confidence, even while the storm raged.

Focus

Peter responded to Jesus’ words with a request.

“Lord, if it is you,” Peter said, “Tell me to come to you.”

In my mind, I can almost hear Peter yelling these words over the howl of the wind and the crashing of the waves.

“Come,” Jesus replied.

Lots could be written about what happened next, but space is limited. Suffice to say that Peter needed to focus on Jesus rather than on his stormy environment. When he looked to his Lord, he walked. When he looked about him, he began to sink.

A storm stilled

And then Jesus got into the boat.

The wind died down, the waves dissipated, and I imagine the stars even shone.

Those who were in the boat worshipped him, saying “Truly, you are the son of God.” (Matthew 14:33 NIV)

Then and now

That was then. This is now.

Their storm was literal. Ours are more often metaphorical.

Yet the truth remains. In the midst of our storms, Jesus – the great ‘I AM’ – is with us.

And so we can take courage. We need not fear.

Lord Jesus, please will you help us to keep our focus fixed firmly on you. We ask this for your glory as well as for our well-being.

Amen.

It’s the first day of the Year of the Tiger. And a chance for a fresh start with my New Year’s Resolution. I will get a third chance at Losar (Tibetan New Year) next month. 

Why is it so hard to do what my head and heart both want to do anyhow? 

My 2022 resolution

My 2022 resolution has the potential to increase my productivity no end.

It is this: In 2022, I will ‘pray my distractions’. 

My distractions are usually to be found in the kitchen and on electronic gadgets. In the kitchen, the kettle, coffee percolator, fridge and pantry lure me, and not just at mealtimes. On the phone or iPad, I can often be found checking the news or scanning social media or looking at one of the six apps I use to stay connected with different groups of people. Yes … I regularly use six different platforms for communicating with people, in addition to telephone calls and emails. I am, after all, a modern woman.

Hence deciding to ‘pray my distractions’.

I can’t claim credit for the concept. As I prepared for a particular talk early in 2022, I read a fabulous article written by a local Christian leader here in Melbourne who ‘prays his distractions.’ His distractions seem more ‘grown-up’ than mine, though no doubt there is a deeper root to my apparent inability to focus on the tasks which I am avoiding through such distractions.

“I try to turn my distractions into prayers. For my distractions are usually my worries or fears. The best thing to do is to pray them.”

Reverend Peter Adam, https://au.thegospelcoalition.org/article/are-you-practising-the-presence-of-god/ Nov 2020

Why is it so hard to stick to our resolutions? 

Just this evening, before sitting down to write this blog post, I stood in front of my fabulous pantry. (It’s fabulous because it was only built a few months ago and the novelty has not yet worn off.) 

I reached for the chocolate. 

Although there is nothing wrong with enjoying a special treat now and then, the main reason I was nibbling was to avoid doing what I wanted to do anyhow … to write a blog post. Isn’t that madness? 

And no, I did not pray my distraction. I forgot. 

But I sure enjoyed the chocolate.

It is easy to become discouraged. Yet I remind myself that I’m in good company. Even the great apostle Paul struggled. 

So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. What a wretched person I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!

So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God’s law, but in my sinful nature a slave to the law of sin.

Romans 7:21-25 NIV

Hope

As Christians, we live in an stage of ‘now and not yet’. Jesus has delivered me from the power of sin, and yet still I struggle for I am flesh-and-blood-human. Struggle is normal. Life isn’t meant to be easy.

Let me say it again. This is a truth I know yet need reminding of as I start afresh with my New Years Resolution for 2022.

Struggle is normal. Life isn’t meant to be easy. 

That sounds pessimistic, but it is true. The Bible teaches clearly that there is a cosmic battle between the powers of Light and the powers of Darkness. We are caught up in that battle, whether we like it or not. 

But there is hope. A certain hope. A hope which keeps us going through the difficulties. 

And so I start again. Praying my distractions, that is. 

The Year of the Tiger

Today is the first day of the Year of the Tiger. I wonder what it will hold? 

Perhaps it will be the year in which the pandemic will fizzle out? Am I dreaming? 

Will it be a year in which we become perfect? That time will come for each of us, when “… what is mortal may be swallowed up by life” (2 Corinthians 5:4 NIV). However, I don’t expect that will happen for me in 2022 … I have plenty more living to do in this easily distracted state yet. 

The Year of the Tiger will most likely be a year of ongoing struggle in one form or another. And that is as it should be. For we are still living in a broken world, even though we are marked with God’s Spirit, partnering with him in his work, and full of hope for eternity with God.

But lest you think I’m overly negative, let me add that I expect that 2022 will also involve chocolate and laughter and friendships and more. I thoroughly enjoy life. The struggles are annoying but they don’t sap my joy.

Happy Chinese New Year!

Can we cancel Christmas this year?

I don’t know about you, but I am just not in the mood.

A week before Christmas, innocent Australian children are killed in the most innocuous of settings – jumping on an inflatable bouncy castle at school.

Random Greek letters have become household terms as they refer to variants of a virus which has spun out of control. The latest, Omicron, is causing hearts around the world to plummet as case numbers rise. Indeed, in some parts of the world, headlines declare ‘Christmas Cancelled’ in response to lockdown measures. Again.

Meanwhile, pandemic or not, refugees around the globe flee war, starvation and despair. But where can they go?

Can we cancel Christmas this year?

The First Christmas

A sweet newborn
Innocence personified
A special star
Proclaims the birth of a king

Yet the promised Saviour was born into a uncertain messy world.

Within a year or so, the family of this Christmas child would flee in the middle of the night, taking nothing beyond what they could carry.

Refugees. You rarely see them on Christmas cards.

Last week, our simple English Bible study group studied the tale of the wise men. We used Christmas cards to illustrate the story. This week we are expecting to study the tale of King Herod’s order to kill all baby boys in the area.

I don’t want to do it. It’s too horrible. But it, too, is part of the Christmas story.

Hope

The ‘Prince of Peace’ was born that first Christmas (Isaiah 9:6).

His life in first century Israel would be anything but peaceful, culminating in crucifixion.

But death was not the end.

The Apostle Paul put it like this:

For God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in him, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through his blood, shed on the cross.

Colossians 1:19-20 NIV

Peace on the cross? Is not that an oxymoron?

Over and over in the Bible, we find precious promises of peace … but not many of comfort. Consider the encouragement of the Christmas child himself, by then grown up, to those who would follow him.

I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.

John 16:33 NIV

Can we cancel Christmas this year?

No.

(Though we can tone down the glitz and glitter.)

We need hope. We need a reason to lift our eyes above the chaos and confusion around us. We need reassurance that there is a God out there who not only knows how messy our world is, but who stepped in to do something about it.

We live in an era of ‘now and not yet’. We live with hope … hope that was given flesh and laid in a manger that first Christmas.

And so we sing, whether or not we are ‘in the mood’:

O little town of Bethlehem,
how still we see thee lie!

Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
the silent stars go by;

Yet in thy dark streets shineth
the everlasting light.

The hopes and fears of all the years
are met in thee tonight.

Philip Brooks, 1868, Public Domain