This past Sunday we looked at the New Jerusalem.
The Angel Who Roared: Revelation 10:1-7
A huge angel, a little book, and a secret. Today we talked about Revelation 10:1-7.
Knowledge or Wisdom. Or Both?
Today in our gathering, we did a summary overview of the Old Testament book of Proverbs.
Encouragement From a Lamppost
Last night was a night of fitful sleep and unsatisfying dreams. When I awoke this morning, I was feeling the weight of a number of things that are happening in this little conrner of the world. The events of the past few months and the strain that has put on relationahips of people that I know, the friend who is waiting for a possible diagnosis of cancer, and the friend whose mother just had a stroke, along with the stresses of helping lead a faith community to follow Jesus more closely. These are on top of dealing with Jan’s HD and all that goes with it, and trying to keep myself healthy.
When I went to the kitchen to make coffee, I looked out the window into our backyard. What I saw was similar to the picture above, minus the snow and fir trees. It was about 6:45, and the sky was just beginning to lighten. What I saw was unusual because the lamp had never stayed lit all through the night before this, and the previous day had been cloudy. I had bought that particular lamppost because it reminded me of the lamppost in the Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis.
When I saw the lamp still lit, the first thing that I thought (I believe it was God speaking to my heart) was, “There is still hope.” In the Narnia tales, the lamppost marked the border between Narnia and the wardrobe in the spare room. In some way it signified hope, because it was there that the story of Aslan coming and reclaiming Narnia began. As you read through the rest of the books, there is always an undercurrent of hope, no matter how dire the circumstances.
I have no idea what is going to happen in each of those situations I mentioned. I know I am praying for healing and restoration, but I also know that the final outcome is beyond my reach. But there is still hope. There is still the hope that no matter what happens, my loving Father has us all in his hands, and he always does what is good and right. There is still hope that the King of Kings will return and make everything right, healing every hurt and wiping every tear. There is still hope that Romans 8:18-39 is true.
You may be going through something similar, or worse. Things may well seem hopless to you. I would encourage you to look to the One who alone can give hope. Look to the King who has conquered death and who is bringing a new creation. Look to him because, to be honest with you, without him it is hopeless.
Introduction to the Sermon on the Mount
This Sunday, our church is beginning a series on the Sermon on the Mount. Here is an introduction to the series.
Lonely or Broken?
Back in the 80s, the group Yes put out a single titled “Owner of a Lonely Heart.” One line in the song reads, “Owner of a lonely heart, much better than the owner of a broken heart.” There are a lot of people who would agree with that sentiment, along with that expressed in Simon and Garfunkel’s song, “I Am a Rock.” I can understand the feeling. Many have had their hearts broken by friends, family, lovers. Abuse, violence, and death is a common part of the human experience.
While I can understand wanting to withdraw from intimate contact with other people, thinking that hiding the heart will make life better, I would disagree with the sentiment that being lonely is better than being broken hearted. I agree with C.S. Lewis, who wrote: There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one , not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully around with hobbies, and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket – safe, dark, motionless, airless – it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers of perturbations of love is hell.
I believe a large part of the problem is our culture’s definition of love as something that will make the one loved happy and make the lover happy. It is a very self-centered thing. Because we can never make another person completely happy, and no one can ever make us completely happy, going into any kind of relationship with another person will be no safe investment. If you try to love others, whether as a spouse or friend, they may hurt you and you may hurt them.
As a follower of Jesus, I am commanded to love others. Not necessarily to seek to make them happy, and certainly not to make myself happy, although both of those things can and will happen at times. I am called to love others in a sacrificial way that seeks their good, even if that good may make them unhappy for a time. I am also called to love everyone, those who are like me and those who are different. This is where the rubber meets the road. Can I love my brothers and sisters in my local fellowship when we don’t see eye to eye? Can I love those who follow Jesus differently? If those whom I fellowship with aren’t “as far along in their walk with God as I am” can I love them?
In A Fellowship of Differents, Scot McKnight writes that to love others we must be committed. We must commit to be with those we seek to love. We must spend time with them, being a faithful presence. We must commit to be for them, to be on their side and let them know that we are for them. We must also commit to love them unto the person God has created them to be. As God’s faithful presence in us and his commitment for us transforms us unto the likeness of Jesus, so our loving relationships can transform those we love. It is in that loving unto that we run into difficulties. We don’t always take well to correction or teaching. We must be careful that we don’t hurry the unto before we have loved with and for. By our presence and support, our unconditional love, the Spirit can work in the hearts of those we love.
As someone who likes to be the one who fixes things, often with not so good results, I can tell you that what we need to do in our relationships is be faithful in our presence and support, and then trust the Spirit to do the work of changing hearts the way God wants, not the way we want. This is not easy because our love for others leads us to want them to be Christlike, and it can be heart breaking when it doesn’t happen. But, the results are not up to us. We are simply called to love as Jesus loves us. Period.
Let us show the world around us that we belong to Jesus by our love for others, especially our brothers and sisters.
A New Morning
It was quite definitely early morning now, not late night.
“I’m so cold,” said Lucy.
“So am I,” said Susan. “Let’s walk about a bit.”
They walked to the eastern ridge of the hill and looked down. The one big star had almost disappeared. The country all looked dark gray, but beyond, at the very end of the world, the sea showed pale. The sky began to turn red. They walked to and fro more times than they could count between the dead Aslan and the eastern ridge, trying to keep warm, and oh, how tired their legs felt. Then at last, as they stood for a moment looking out toward the sea and Cair Paravel (which they could just now make out) the red turned to gold along the line where the sea and the sky met and very slowly up came the edge of the sun. At that moment they heard from behind them a loud noise–a great cracking, deafening noise as if a giant had cracked a giant’s plate.
“What’s that?” said Lucy, clutching Susan’s arm.
“I–I feel afraid to turn round,” said Susan; “something awful is happening.”
“They’re doing something worse to Him,” said Lucy, “Come on!” And she turned, pulling Susan round with her.
The rising of the sun made everything look so different–all colors and shadows were changed–that for a moment they didn’t see the important thing. Then they did. The Stone Table was broken into two pieces by a great crack that ran down it from end to end, and there was no Aslan.
“Oh, oh, oh!” cried the two girls, rushing back to the Table.
“Oh, it’s too bad,” sobbed Lucy; “they might have left the body alone.”
“Who’s done it?” cried Susan. “What does it mean? Is it more magic?”
“Yes!” said a great voice behind their backs. “It is more magic.” They looked round. There, shining in the sunrise, larger than they had seen him before, shaking his mane (for it had apparently grown again) stood Aslan himself.
“Oh, Aslan!” cried both the children, staring up at him, almost as much frightened as they were glad.
“Aren’t you dead then, dear Aslan?” said Lucy.
“Not now,” said Aslan.
“You’re not–not a–?” asked Susan in a shaky voice. She couldn’t bring herself to say the word ghost. Aslan stooped his golden head and licked her forehead. The warmth of his breath and a rich sort of smell that seemed to hang about his hair came all over her.
“Do I look it?” he said.
“Oh, you’re real, you’re real! Oh Aslan!” cried Lucy, and both girls flung themselves upon him and covered him with kisses.
“But what does it all mean?” asked Susan when they were somewhat calmer.
“It means,” said Aslan, “that though the Witch knew the Deep Magic, there is a magic deeper still which she did not know. Her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of time. But if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and the darkness before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation. She would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor’s stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backward.”
C.S. Lewis: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
Christ is risen!
Friday
From C.S. Lewis:
“Muzzle him!” said the Witch. And even now, as they worked about his face putting on the muzzle, one bite from his jaws would have cost two or three of them their hands. But he never moved. And this seemed to enrage all that rabble. Everyone was at him now. Those who had been afraid to come near him even after he was bound began to find their courage, and for a few minutes the two girls could not even see him–so thickly was he surrounded by the whole crowd of creatures kicking him, hitting him, spitting on him, jeering at him.
At last the rabble had had enough of this. They began to drag the bound and muzzled Lion to the Stone Table, some pulling and some pushing. He was so huge that even when they got him there it took all their efforts to hoist him onto the surface of it. Then there was more tying and tightening of cords.
“The cowards! The cowards!” sobbed Susan. “Are they still afraid of him, even now?”
When once Aslan had been tied (and tied so that he was really a mass of cords) on the flat stone, a hush fell on the crowd. Four Hags, holding four torches, stood at the corners of the Table. The Witch bared her arms as she had bared them the previous night when it had been Edmund instead of Aslan. Then she began to whet her knife. It looked to the children, when the gleam of the torchlight fell on it, as if the knife were made of stone, not of steel, and it was of a strange and evil shape.
At last she drew near. She stood by Aslan’s head. Her face was working and twitching with passion, but his looked up at the sky, still quiet, neither angry nor afraid, but a little sad. Then, just before she gave the blow, she stooped down and said in a quivering voice,
“And now, who has won? Fool, did you think that by all this you would save the human traitor? Now I will kill you instead of him as our pact was and so the Deep Magic will be appeased. But when you are dead what will prevent me from killing him as well? And who will take him out my hand then? Understand that you have given me Narnia forever, you have lost your own life and you have not saved his. In that knowledge, despair and die.”
The children did not see the actual moment of the killing. They couldn’t bear to look and had covered their eyes.
While the two girls still crouched in the bushes with their hands over their faces, they heard the voice of the Witch calling out,
“Now! Follow me all and we will set about what remains of this war! It will not take us long to crush the human vermin and the traitors now that the great Fool, the great Cat, lies dead.”
Repost: Dead, Yet Alive
This was first posted on June 15, 2012.
Those of you who have read this blog over the past three or four months know that one of the topics I wrote a fair amount on was death. Death to self, dying for others. Those posts came out of some recent experiences, and as I was thinking about them the other day, I was concerned that I may have come across as a bit morose. Over the last couple of months, I have learned a few things. Believe it or not, I am still very much a work in progress and am continually learning.
The biggest thing that I am learning is the difference between what so many of us see as living, and what Scripture tells us about life. Many people (Christians included) see life as all about getting as much stuff as you can. That stuff can be money and possessions, or career satisfaction and success. It can be friends and followers, or family. It can be any number of things. The prosperity gospel preachers tell us that if we just have faith, God will give us a life filled with health and wealth, and devoid of problems. Some preachers preach that if we just love everyone, our lives will be filled with friends. Many evangelicals preach that if we follow a number of steps (based on the Bible of course) we will have great marriages, successful children, and a joyous life. Even those who look on horrified at all those things teach that if we keep all the rules our life will be wonderful.
In John 10:10, Jesus states that he came so we could have an abundant life. There are many places in Scripture where a life of following Jesus is presented as the ultimate way to live. Jesus says in Luke 17:33 that those who lose their lives for his sake will find life. In Luke 18, Jesus states that those who give up family, etc. to follow him will receive those things back, and then some. Jesus does call us to come and die. He also says that dying is the way to real, abundant life. The problem comes when we expect that abundant life to include lots of friends, success in our endeavors, good health, enough money to do anything we want, or anything else we think will make us happy. We are like those described by C.S. Lewis in Weight of Glory, “It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”
We tend to see life in terms of what we can see and touch, when the life Jesus offers us rises far above the mundane things of this life. We are far too easily pleased. We set our sights on things that will pass away and miss the eternal pleasures the Father has for us right now. I wonder how many of those who believe God is in the business of giving them whatever they want believe that they will have those things in the new heavens and new earth. I hope none of us really believe that the things of this earth are the things that count. We do act like it many times.
As Christ calls us to die, let us remember that he also calls us to live. Live in him.
A New Morning
It was quite definitely early morning now, not late night.
“I’m so cold,” said Lucy.
“So am I,” said Susan. “Let’s walk about a bit.”
They walked to the eastern ridge of the hill and looked down. The one big star had almost disappeared. The country all looked dark gray, but beyond, at the very end of the world, the sea showed pale. The sky began to turn red. They walked to and fro more times than they could count between the dead Aslan and the eastern ridge, trying to keep warm, and oh, how tired their legs felt. Then at last, as they stood for a moment looking out toward the sea and Cair Paravel (which they could just now make out) the red turned to gold along the line where the sea and the sky met and very slowly up came the edge of the sun. At that moment they heard from behind them a loud noise–a great cracking, deafening noise as if a giant had cracked a giant’s plate.
“What’s that?” said Lucy, clutching Susan’s arm.
“I–I feel afraid to turn round,” said Susan; “something awful is happening.”
“They’re doing something worse to Him,” said Lucy, “Come on!” And she turned, pulling Susan round with her.
The rising of the sun made everything look so different–all colors and shadows were changed–that for a moment they didn’t see the important thing. Then they did. The Stone Table was broken into two pieces by a great crack that ran down it from end to end, and there was no Aslan.
“Oh, oh, oh!” cried the two girls, rushing back to the Table.
“Oh, it’s too bad,” sobbed Lucy; “they might have left the body alone.”
“Who’s done it?” cried Susan. “What does it mean? Is it more magic?”
“Yes!” said a great voice behind their backs. “It is more magic.” They looked round. There, shining in the sunrise, larger than they had seen him before, shaking his mane (for it had apparently grown again) stood Aslan himself.
“Oh, Aslan!” cried both the children, staring up at him, almost as much frightened as they were glad.
“Aren’t you dead then, dear Aslan?” said Lucy.
“Not now,” said Aslan.
“You’re not–not a–?” asked Susan in a shaky voice. She couldn’t bring herself to say the word ghost. Aslan stooped his golden head and licked her forehead. The warmth of his breath and a rich sort of smell that seemed to hang about his hair came all over her.
“Do I look it?” he said.
“Oh, you’re real, you’re real! Oh Aslan!” cried Lucy, and both girls flung themselves upon him and covered him with kisses.
“But what does it all mean?” asked Susan when they were somewhat calmer.
“It means,” said Aslan, “that though the Witch knew the Deep Magic, there is a magic deeper still which she did not know. Her knowledge goes back only to the dawn of time. But if she could have looked a little further back, into the stillness and the darkness before Time dawned, she would have read there a different incantation. She would have known that when a willing victim who had committed no treachery was killed in a traitor’s stead, the Table would crack and Death itself would start working backward.”
C.S. Lewis: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
Christ is risen!