The women's Bible study group at my church is currently working its way through the book of Daniel, accompanied by Beth Moore's study of the same book. (I had never read/seen any of Beth Moore's stuff before this. I like her. She's a nut. She's also theologically sound.) In her exploration of the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego and the fiery furnace (which was before I was a part of this study, but she referred back to it today), she made this point:
When we, as God's people, face a trial, the outcome will be one of three possibilities. We can be A) delivered from the fire, B) delivered through the fire, or C) delivered by the fire into God's arms. What really struck me today was our misplaced priorities and our bizarre perspective on life.
Generally speaking, in most situations that could be defined as a trial, we would opt for choice A. God is glorified by His ability to keep us completely safe, and we don't have to deal with any pain or struggle. Win-win, right? B and C, we're much less excited about.
But stop and think about the other options! If Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego had been delivered from the fire ("Hey guys, I changed my mind, don't throw them in there after all..."), they wouldn't have found fellowship in the fire with one that "looks like a son of the gods" and they wouldn't have had the opportunity to stare, amazed, at their unharmed bodies, hair, and robes. They didn't even smell like smoke! What a miraculous affirmation of the truth upon which they had staked their lives!
Should we so eagerly seek immediate comfort in place of the opportunity to know the One who gives all comfort, even in the most dire of circumstances? And if the best experiences in this life are the ones where we come a little closer into His presence, shouldn't we, as Paul, long for the day when we will be delivered into His arms? Shouldn't we bless the trial that will make us ready for that day, and doubly bless the trial that will escort us there at last?
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Fasting
"[...]Fasting, which so many dislike, which requires faith in God, since it makes one feel weak and poorly, is really a Divinely appointed means of grace. Perhaps the greatest hindrance to our work is our own imagined strength; and in fasting we learn what poor, weak creatures we are - dependent on a meal of meat for the little strength which we are so apt to lean upon."
- Hudson Taylor
For a long time, fasting was one of those facets of Christian tradition and discipline that I never quite understood. I also never gave much thought to it. To me, fasting was what you did if you were especially holy, especially sinful, or especially in need of something. It represented a mastering of the body. It was a physical manifestation of self-denial or self-control. And... maybe it made your prayers more potent? I never really understood that part.
This year, as part of a commitment I made around the new year, fasting has become part of my life. I've been fasting in combination with praying for a specific situation, but I have been amazed to find how much there is to be learned simply from the experience of cutting off the ties to food for a day. Hudson Taylor's quote above rings so true to me now-- it's not often in our privileged American lives that we are brought to a point of awareness of our dependence on God. We build up a buffer, a nest egg that will keep us safe from having to depend on the hand of God. In exchange, we lose the joy of knowing that we are nothing without Him, that we cannot go on feeling invincible for even a day without the gifts of His hands. This is a great pity, because along with knowing our weakness comes the incredible comfort of comprehending something more of His strength and faithfulness.
- Hudson Taylor
For a long time, fasting was one of those facets of Christian tradition and discipline that I never quite understood. I also never gave much thought to it. To me, fasting was what you did if you were especially holy, especially sinful, or especially in need of something. It represented a mastering of the body. It was a physical manifestation of self-denial or self-control. And... maybe it made your prayers more potent? I never really understood that part.
This year, as part of a commitment I made around the new year, fasting has become part of my life. I've been fasting in combination with praying for a specific situation, but I have been amazed to find how much there is to be learned simply from the experience of cutting off the ties to food for a day. Hudson Taylor's quote above rings so true to me now-- it's not often in our privileged American lives that we are brought to a point of awareness of our dependence on God. We build up a buffer, a nest egg that will keep us safe from having to depend on the hand of God. In exchange, we lose the joy of knowing that we are nothing without Him, that we cannot go on feeling invincible for even a day without the gifts of His hands. This is a great pity, because along with knowing our weakness comes the incredible comfort of comprehending something more of His strength and faithfulness.
Monday, January 18, 2010
No guarantees
A few different conversations and happenings brought this thought to the forefront today: we are mortal. That is, in this form, this lifetime, this unresurrected body, we are mortal. The days of this life are limited. Do we live that way? The things we pursue, the goals we chase after at all costs, are they what we want defining our life?
"How you spend your days is how you spend your life." -Unknown
"Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom." -Psalm 90:12
"This is your life; are you who you want to be?" -Switchfoot
This isn't a practice run. We only get one shot. It's easy to forget, when you're young and strong and healthy, that it will fly by and be over before you know it. What will it take to remind you of your mortality? Food poisoning? A car accident? A seven-story fall? Are you living for this life or for the one that lasts? The way you spend your days now defines the way you will spend the rest of your earthly life, and it defines the way you will spend eternity. Are you awake?
"How you spend your days is how you spend your life." -Unknown
"Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom." -Psalm 90:12
"This is your life; are you who you want to be?" -Switchfoot
This isn't a practice run. We only get one shot. It's easy to forget, when you're young and strong and healthy, that it will fly by and be over before you know it. What will it take to remind you of your mortality? Food poisoning? A car accident? A seven-story fall? Are you living for this life or for the one that lasts? The way you spend your days now defines the way you will spend the rest of your earthly life, and it defines the way you will spend eternity. Are you awake?
Saturday, January 16, 2010
The purpose of Israel
I've struggled from time to time with the purpose of the people of Israel throughout the Old Testament. It has always seemed a little arbitrary to me-- was there something so great about Abraham that led the Lord to choose him as a father for the chosen people? Was there some redeeming characteristic about the people of Israel that caused the Lord to rescue and redeem them time after time? The various times I have read through the story of God's relationship with the people of Israel, what has stood out to me is not any great quality about Israel, but rather their persistent unfaithfulness. Then why? Why choose these people? Why stick with it for so long?
Abraham was a righteous man. There are instances throughout Genesis where God tells him that because of his faithfulness in various situations, he will make him a great nation. But I think that's only part of it. As I have been reading through the Old Testament again for the past few weeks, I have been struck by the way it all points to Jesus. From the very entrance of sin into the world, God is working out a plan for the redemption of the human race. He makes a promise, He chooses a people, He does everything to keep that people holy to Him, and all of it is to make the path straight for Jesus to enter the world and save it by His ultimate sacrifice.
The Old Testament stories are powerful on their own, and there is plenty to be gleaned from each of them, but most powerful to me this time around has been the centrality of Jesus to it all. From the very beginning ("In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God," "Through Him all things were created...") Jesus is everything. After the fall of man, through the whole story of God sanctifying mankind back to Himself, Jesus is everything. In the gospels, Jesus is everything. In the accounts of the early church and the letters written within it, Jesus is everything. At the end, when all things are summed up, the answer is still the same. Jesus is everything.
Abraham was a righteous man. There are instances throughout Genesis where God tells him that because of his faithfulness in various situations, he will make him a great nation. But I think that's only part of it. As I have been reading through the Old Testament again for the past few weeks, I have been struck by the way it all points to Jesus. From the very entrance of sin into the world, God is working out a plan for the redemption of the human race. He makes a promise, He chooses a people, He does everything to keep that people holy to Him, and all of it is to make the path straight for Jesus to enter the world and save it by His ultimate sacrifice.
The Old Testament stories are powerful on their own, and there is plenty to be gleaned from each of them, but most powerful to me this time around has been the centrality of Jesus to it all. From the very beginning ("In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God," "Through Him all things were created...") Jesus is everything. After the fall of man, through the whole story of God sanctifying mankind back to Himself, Jesus is everything. In the gospels, Jesus is everything. In the accounts of the early church and the letters written within it, Jesus is everything. At the end, when all things are summed up, the answer is still the same. Jesus is everything.
Quiet times
Pretty much any mature Christian will tell you that quiet times are important. Work it into your schedule, a time where you are reading the Word, praying, meditating, just being quiet before God. It's not really a disputed topic. If you want to get to know a person better, you spend time with him. The same principle applies here.
Most mature Christians also have a standpoint on what that quiet time should look like, and when it should take place. Some are staunch supporters of the morning routine, others tend more toward the reflective, end-of-day routine, and still others have found a time during the busy schedule of the day that works for them.
Two people that I respect very much in the faith have given me these words of advice:
"Give God your first, give Him your best, and then give Him more."
"[Quiet time should be] your first, best time."
I don't think there's a time that is necessarily holier than other times. I do think that in this, as in so many other things, the heart is key. Are you scheduling your time away with God first as you place things into the day's agenda, or are you putting it wherever it will fit in? Do you intend to do it at one time and then really do it whenever you happen to remember? Did you plan to have it be a reflective time at the end of the day, a time where you could go back over the day's happenings in a prayerful mindset and weigh them all against Scripture, or were you just too lazy to get it done any other time of the day?
I struggle with this. Sometimes Jesus got up early in the morning to pray (we have a lot of scriptural examples of this), sometimes he stayed up late to wrestle with God (think Gethsemane), and sometimes the idea was to take the disciples away to a quiet place and just rest in the Lord. Again, I don't think there's a time of day that is by nature holier or more conducive to spiritual thoughts for everyone, but there probably is one for you. It probably won't be all that easy to make it happen. But it's important.
All of that said, I am going to go have some quiet time. After 1 a.m. And no, this was not intentional.
Most mature Christians also have a standpoint on what that quiet time should look like, and when it should take place. Some are staunch supporters of the morning routine, others tend more toward the reflective, end-of-day routine, and still others have found a time during the busy schedule of the day that works for them.
Two people that I respect very much in the faith have given me these words of advice:
"Give God your first, give Him your best, and then give Him more."
"[Quiet time should be] your first, best time."
I don't think there's a time that is necessarily holier than other times. I do think that in this, as in so many other things, the heart is key. Are you scheduling your time away with God first as you place things into the day's agenda, or are you putting it wherever it will fit in? Do you intend to do it at one time and then really do it whenever you happen to remember? Did you plan to have it be a reflective time at the end of the day, a time where you could go back over the day's happenings in a prayerful mindset and weigh them all against Scripture, or were you just too lazy to get it done any other time of the day?
I struggle with this. Sometimes Jesus got up early in the morning to pray (we have a lot of scriptural examples of this), sometimes he stayed up late to wrestle with God (think Gethsemane), and sometimes the idea was to take the disciples away to a quiet place and just rest in the Lord. Again, I don't think there's a time of day that is by nature holier or more conducive to spiritual thoughts for everyone, but there probably is one for you. It probably won't be all that easy to make it happen. But it's important.
All of that said, I am going to go have some quiet time. After 1 a.m. And no, this was not intentional.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
What is required of us?
I like to plan. I never really thought of myself as that much of a planner, and I never really wrote it all out and put it in concrete terms, but I really like to have a plan. This has become more evident in my life these past few years as less and less things have been certain about the future. I continue to plan out the way I think everything will unfold (the way I would like it to unfold...), to imagine it and count down the days until whatever plan comes to pass.
This is changing, slowly.
"In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps." (Proverbs 16:9)
"Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails." (Proverbs 19:21)
I don't think there's anything particularly wrong with planning. I think we're called to be wise and to number our days. But when plans become an idol, something to cling to and repeat to ourselves when things seem uncertain, we've gone too far.
I couldn't really tell you what my life will look like more than about 4 months out at this point. I could guess, but that's where I fall back into planning again. But as the Lord gently pries my plans out of my fingertips, He does not leave me empty-handed:
"He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God." (Micah 6:8)
I don't know where I'm going, and I don't know what it will look like. I do know that I am to love justice and mercy and to walk humbly with my God, and that is enough.
This is changing, slowly.
"In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps." (Proverbs 16:9)
"Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it is the Lord's purpose that prevails." (Proverbs 19:21)
I don't think there's anything particularly wrong with planning. I think we're called to be wise and to number our days. But when plans become an idol, something to cling to and repeat to ourselves when things seem uncertain, we've gone too far.
I couldn't really tell you what my life will look like more than about 4 months out at this point. I could guess, but that's where I fall back into planning again. But as the Lord gently pries my plans out of my fingertips, He does not leave me empty-handed:
"He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God." (Micah 6:8)
I don't know where I'm going, and I don't know what it will look like. I do know that I am to love justice and mercy and to walk humbly with my God, and that is enough.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
I am second
I just spent my afternoon and evening watching all of the videos at iamsecond.com (following an exhilarating and exhausting weekend of camp). I would do it again. What an incredible blessing, to be able to benefit from the stories of God's work in the lives of other people! There are some incredible testimonies of His faithfulness told in beautiful ways there, and I highly recommend the site to any of you.
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