Time's Up, Death

credit: greisv.blogspot.com

There are some people I have a hard time just being around. I'm not sure why, but some folks just make me edgy, like I have an itch I can't scratch, or like I'm sitting on a particularly uncomfortable lump. When I'm around them, I just have to MOVE....preferably to somewhere else.

I'm not proud of this. Whoever they are, God, after all, gave them life, just like He gave it to me. My life is not better or cleaner or more presentable to God than is theirs. They are flawed. I am flawed. And, deep down, I pretty well know that Jesus does not love me any more than He loves them. We are joined by our common, and commonly imperfect, humanity. 

But I just don't like them.
Period.

I occurred to me, however, that although Jesus loves us all equally, there are some things He simply cannot abide, either. 
Like Death. 
Yes, Death.
Jesus hated death. He warred against it. He undid it. And eventually, He defeated it.

The last enemy to be destroyed is death.--1Corinthians 15:26
He Himself also partook of the same that through death He might render powerless him who had the power of death, that is, Satan.--Hebrews 2:14
I was dead, and behold, I am alive forevermore, and I have the keys of death and Hades.--Revelation 1:18

This is no gentle Jesus. This is the guy on the white horse, the one with the sword, the one so bright I can't even look straight at Him. This Jesus is a warrior and every bit as powerful and terrifying as His Father. This is the Jesus who walked out of the grave and confronted Death himself.

And it was no contest.
Why?

Because Jesus didn't really have to fight at all. He just had to show up. The conquering didn't require any hewing and hacking. The outcome was never in doubt. All He had to do was to withdraw His permission.

Death existed only by God's express permission, but when His time was up, it was up. Jesus put His perfect thumb on our side of the scale, and Death fell off the other side. All done.  Death had already obeyed His command a number of times in full view of anyone who happened to be around. He chased Death away from Lazarus, from the son of the widow in Nain, from Jarius' servant and, of course, from Himself. Death has been warned. Christ will not allow it to exist either in His presence or outside of His express permission.

Why is this so hard to understand?
Maybe because all of life's other terrors happen while we still live. Yes, we get sick, but we usually get well. Yes, we might lose our job, but the possibility of getting another one is still open to us. But death, well, we just END. We disappear from the face of the earth. Death is a lot scarier for us than misfortune or hurt or loss. 

But not for Christ. They are all the same to Him--one cause, one temporary tolerance, and one permanent solution. Death to God is no stronger than a bug to us. Swat it and it's gone.

And He's done it. Our body may still die, but we will live. We will live with Him and laugh at Death. You know the old taunt:
Where, O Death, is your victory? O Death, where is your sting?--1Corinthinians 15:55

Talk about a knight in shining armor...

Gentle as a Hawk

photo: news.wsu.edu

Years ago, we had a friend, Luke,  who trained hawks and he sometimes brought his favorite over to the empty field beside our house to exercise and train him. I never forgot the way they looked. The bird would perch on the leather gauntlet Luke wore on his arm, lean over to nuzzle into Luke's neck, and stare at us. Just stare. With those beady eyes, looking down that hooked beak. And he kept staring, looking like he was ready to tear us apart the same way he'd just torn apart a mouse or some other dainty we'd watch him catch.

But the bird loved Luke. He obeyed him and delicately took treats from his hands. He looked like he wanted to tear my head off, but at the very same time he showered affection on his trainer. He always seemed to me a study in contradictions, but now that I think of it, maybe not. Maybe he was simply an illustration.

The fact is that I am sometimes very much disturbed by the military imagery and examples in the Bible. I don't like them and don't want to study them. But they're there, and I can't ignore them.

God tells us that we are to put on the full armor of God (Ephesians 6:13), and that we are to take sides.
Whoever is not with me is against me.--Matthew 12:30
Our faith brings us into conflict:
If the world hates you, remember that it hated me first.--John 15:18
It makes us choose:
Choose today whom you will serve-Joshua 24:15
It makes us find one way and one way only, leaving the rest behind.
Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a word behind you saying, "This is the way. Walk in it."--Isaiah 30:21

The Bible unveils so much battle, so much warring between good and evil. It just leaves me wanting a time of peace, but doesn't promise it any time soon.
They give assurance of peace when there is no peace.--Jeremiah 8:11

How is it possible, then, to wear the unfading beauty of a quiet and gentle spirit? (1Peter 3:4) How am I to learn to be calm and tender when I am also to be arming myself for war? 

And then I remember Luke's hawk.
How he loved and nuzzled his owner.
I remember its eyes after Luke removed the hood that covered its head while they traveled--how it looked at me with cold challenge, sinister and dangerous.
He scared me, not because he intentionally wanted to, but because he could do nothing else. He was always armed for battle and it showed. His threat was always part of him. Even if he did nothing but sit on Luke's arm, wings folded back, talons tense on the gauntlet.

The hawk did not inspire gentleness or mercy. Instead, he inspired caution and warning. I didn't want to get anywhere near him.

But Luke did. Luke knew what the hawk would do, when he would do it, and to whom. He knew that the hawk, with all it's power to hurt, even to kill, could also sit quietly by his side, content to wait with him. To Luke, the hawk was indeed quiet and gentle.

When I think of a gentle bird, I think most readily of a dove--its soft, grey song, nearly a moan, and its soft round profile. A dove has almost no hard edges and it harms nothing. She is quiet. She is calm. She is gentle.
Not the hawk. Even while the hawk sits silent, it carries a mute threat.

So, who is gentler--the dove that cannot hurt, or the hawk that can but chooses to refrain? And which kind of gentleness does the Bible tell us to wear?

Me, I'd prefer to be like the dove--harmless and full of grace. But I don't think I'm given that option.

I am supposed to be a warrior, skilled in destruction, single minded in defense of the Truth. I am to arm myself for battle and be ready to attack when my master gives me direction. I am not allowed pacific helplessness. I am not allowed to let others fight a battle for which God instructs me to prepare and, when necessary, to fight.

God made doves, but He did not make us doves. Doves do not arm themselves, but I must.
I am told to be humble, but also not to faint when tested.
I am told to be charitible, but also to reject whoever rejects God.
I am told to be kind, forgiving, and meek, but to stand for the Lord.

I am told to be a hawk.
Quiet until the time for action comes.
Controlled and focused until I am released.
Peaceful until the day of battle arrives.

Put on the full armor of God so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground and,when you have done everything, to stand.--Ephesians 6:13

Not Giving Up for Lent

 

pic: kingdomvoicesmag.com

The temple in Jerusalem.
Have you ever imagined it?
The gold, the tapestries and furs. Candlelight diffused into partial darkness, a table spread every day with new bread, and all the time the haunting knowledge that, just in the next room, GOD IS.

God.
Right there.
The Presence between the cherubim.

Now, switch gears for a minute and think of yourself.
Your very own body.
God's new temple.

Now, stop it.
Stop shuffling and bowing your head and saying, "Aw, shucks. I'm not so much..."
You are. God said so.

On that day, you will realize that I am in my Father and you are in Me and I am in you.--John 14:20
Those who obey His commands live in Him and He in them.--1John 3:24

 You are the new temple. Me, too.
As beautiful as the old one--silver, gold, and fine linen.

But the old temple didn't last. Enemies of God destroyed it.
Defiled, the sanctuary stripped, the precious metals stolen, the decorations destroyed.
Well, destruction comes to our temple, too. It, too, is stripped and desecrated.
And we all know what does it. We all know what causes our own ruin.
We do. Me. Us. Our sin. Mine and yours.
When we sin, our temple looks just as miserable as the Hebrews'.
And today, on Ash Wednesday, I remind myself that I am dust as a result.
Dust. Just like the destroyed temple.

But the Jewish temple didn't stay that way and I don't have to, either.
In 167 BC, Judas Maccabeus amassed an army determined to take back the temple and, after seven years of battle, they did it.
But, here's the point:  He didn't do it by giving anything up or sitting idly by, waiting for the Lord to do something.
He took back his temple by fighting for it.
He didn't only deny himself stuff or fast for it or just pray for it. He picked up his sword and fought for what belonged to both God and His people.

That is what Lent is for.
Lent is our time to take back our temple.
And just giving up stuff will not help. Denying myself Oreos or NCIS will not do it unless it was cookies or television that defiled me in the first place. Eating fish will not help unless prime rib was the agent of sin. We will have to fight for the restoration of our temple, just like the Maccabees did. We will have to use offensive weapons, not defensive ones.
We have to use Lent to kick out the invaders in our own bodies that have caused us to sin.

Let us restore the decayed state of our people and let us fight for our people and the sanctuary.--1Maccabees 3:43

Lent is when we retake our own sanctuary and restore it to its Owner.
Lent is when we restore ourselves for God.

God has chosen to make known among the Gentiles the glorious riches of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.--Colossians 1:27

First Light

Photo: inspire21.com

I have wondered for a long time about how soldiers get ready for their days, the ones in which they know they will have to risk their lives in combat and during which they might die. The rest of us get up, brush our teeth, decide what to wear or what to have for breakfast, kiss our spouse, and go to work. Somehow, a solder has to rub sleep out of his eyes, shoulder his weapon, and prepare to fight for his life.

I have heard a few discussions about this, memories of times filled with bullets and explosions and blood. I have heard about days when the dead lay all around except for one. I have heard about the smell of spent shells and been asked to imagine the sound of the accumulated gunfire of a hundred men shooting at once, but I have never experienced anything even remotely like it. I do know, however, someone who has.

Israel's King David did not use a gun, but he did use spears and shields. And he also did something that few soldiers can: he found words for what he experienced.

Strangers are attacking me; ruthless men seek my life, men without regard for God. -Psalm 53: 3
See how they lie in wait for me! Fierce men conspire against me for no offense or sin of mine, O Lord--Psalm 59:3 

Every soldier must at some time cry out just like David did. And I'm ashamed to say it, so do I, even though my lot is less dangerous and the price much lower. Some days, enemies just seem to crowd around and I can almost hear their spears rattle. On those days, though, I have to find solace in the same place David did.

Contend, O Lord, with those who contend with me; fight against those who fight against me. Take up shield and buckler, arise and come to my aid. Brandish spear and javelin against those who pursue me. --Psalm 35: 1-2a

And on those days, knowing that we do not have the final say as to who wins or loses, who lives or dies, there is only one place to look for real assurance.

Say to my soul, 'I am your salvation.' Psalm 35: 2b
Rest, soldier. Your battle may still rage, but the Victor fights beside you, and has already won.

Reprinted from By This Still Hearth, 5/18/2011

Holding Onto Dirt

Credit: images.yourdictionary.com

OK. Everybody has idols.
Things we hold onto no matter what.
Money. Kids. Job. Expectations. Dreams.
But dirt?

Yes, we do.
And I was reminded about this from an old song:
In our joys and in our sorrows, days of toil and days of ease,
Still He calls in cares and pleasures: 
Christians, love me more than these.--Cecil Alexander, Jesus Loves Us

We hold onto the things that bring us happiness and ease, but we also hang onto people and circumstances that hurt--offenses, old pains, bad relationships, a habit of sickness, the attitude of a victim, and more.
They bring us no pleasure, but we won't let go.
We don't know who we would  be without them and don't want to find out.
Idols...all of them. Nothing but dirt.

And they become stumbling blocks to our faith. Jesus told us this:
Still others, like seed sown among thorns, hear the word but the worries of this life, the deceitfulness of the wealth, and the desires for other things come in and choke the word, making it unfruitful.--Mark 4:18-19

We don't hoard only life's pleasures, but its sorrows and troubles.
It doesn't matter what we hold onto.
If it isn't Christ, it is all dirt.

The Real Zombie Walk

Everybody's talking about a coming zombie apocalypse.
I used to think they were joking.

After all, what is a zombie?
The dictionary says it is "the body of a dead person given the semblance of life, but mute and will-less, by a supernatural force, usually for some evil purpose."
Colloquial observation  tells me that a zombie is a mindless, soulless, automaton. Neither reason nor sentiment affects it.  Kill one if you can, because nothing else will stop it.

Don't think you've run up against a zombie lately? 
You have. 
Every time we see someone intentionally follow a course they know is wrong or destructive.
Every time someone refuses responsibility they know is rightfully theirs.
Every time someone denies obvious truth or reason.
Every time someone does wrong because someone else has. 

Take a close look at their blank stare. You've seen it before, and often. 
 And what's worse, we've been warned:
They refused to pay attention; stubbornly they turned their backs and stopped up their ears.--Zechariah 7:11
They will turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths.--2Timothy 4:4
Make the heart of this people calloused; make their ears dull and close their eyes.--Isaiah 6:10
To whom can I speak and give warning? Who will listen to me? Their ears and closed so they cannot hear.--Jeremiah 6:10

People who function without thought, without reflection, without reason--they are the zombies. They probably won't groan or wear that telltale blood on their shirt, but they are zombies nonetheless. 
And, in their own way, they are just as dangerous.

Sin--It's Not Just Evil Anymore

Murder. Adultery. Lies. ---Sin.
I recognize them.  They are evil.  All of them.
God says not to do them.  I get it, and generally, do pretty well at it.
But somehow, in the niggling back of my mind, I knew I wasn't done.

Christ showed me why.
He did it in the desert.  Alone, hungry, weak, and bedeviled:
Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert to be tempted by the devil.--Matthew 4:1
And how did the Master Tempter beguile Him?
...tell these stones to become bread.
...thrown yourself down.
...all this I will give you.--Matthew 4:4,6,9

Satan tempted Jesus with food, with rescue, and with the power He already possessed.  By itself, none of these things were bad.  Christ, in another situation at another time, could have reached out and taken any one of them without sin. 
But not then.  Not there.

And so it is for us.
Sin does not come only in the footsteps of evil deeds like murder or deception or betrayal.
It comes at the dinner table, at our desk, in our bed.
In perfectly innocent-sounding activities, but ones God has forbidden in that place and time.

We fast by God's command and forsaking a fast is sin.
That donut, or that nap, or that good-looking charitable activity, is not evil by itself, but today, it might be sin.
Even Jesus had to look at something He wanted in His flesh, something He might have the next day or the one after that but right then, He, like we, had to look it in the eye and say,
Away from me, Satan!--Matthew 4:10

The beauty of all this comes when we look away from the thing dangling before us, that temptation, and see what God wanted us to see in the first place, the whole point of the exercise:
Himself.


And, after we have seen, He sends His angels to minster to us.

What Age Didn't Bring

I am getting older.
So are you, in case you didn't know.

Now, I have expectations for aging.
I know that I will likely lose skin and muscle tone.  I may develop health problems and wrinkles.  I will feel different, look different.
And I also thought that I would have more leisure.

I truly expected to have long hours for contemplation, days in which I could find the kind of peace that allow for sweet silent worship, but it hasn't come.
Instead, the world stirs itself into disorder all around me and while it does, I must live in it, like a chunk of carrot continually bubbling up from the bottom of a furiously boiling pot of soup.
Shut it off, I think.  Shut it off or it will burn.

Little by little, the world is taking on hell's cacophony.

I can find islands of quiet and peace in this world, but all around them, disorder mounts.
I should have expected this, but somehow, well, didn't.  The world disintegrates around my refuge, pressing itself to destruction and, as it does, the people around me need more, draw closer.  The world falls apart as the demand on God's people increase.
How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?  How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me?--Psalm 13:1-2

Still, God is there, whether peace and stillness comes or not.
But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing the Lord’s praise for he has been good to me.--Psalm 13:5-6

The battle may pause between actions, but no long rest will come.  Not now.
The only rest we will know waits at the end of all things.
My job is not to defeat the enemy.  God has already done that.
My battle is to follow Him to the end.

Who Is My Enemy?

It's hard to think about having enemies. 
I have family connected by blood, friends connected by heartstrings, and acquaintances connected by circumstance, but enemies?
Nobody is shooting at me, cursing me, or actively blocking my progress, are they?  No, not really.

But God thinks they are.
He keeps telling me that He will defend me from enemies as though He assumes I have them.
What am I missing?

I think it is this:  My enemy is not a person.
My enemy is blindness.
My enemies are the people and things I bring close enough to block my vision, to distract me from God.

The Lord said to Moses, "When you cross the Jordan, drive out all the inhabitants before you.  Destroy their images and idols and demolish their high places.  Take possession of the land, for I have given it to you."--Numbers 33: 50-53

The territory I have to conquer is not only physical, it is the ground I have given to an enemy in heart or action.  
What habits do I maintain that come from former times? They are my enemies.
What thought patterns placate or distract me?  They are my enemies.
What plans and desires derail God in my life?  They are my enemies.

Just as I can't know salvation until I know I am a miserable sinner, God cannot destroy my enemy until I acknowledge its identity. And the enemy often comes from within.

God reminds me that I more often embrace my enemy than engage him. 
But when I do choose to stand my ground against an enemy, the fight is God's and I am guaranteed victory.
In all these things, we are more than conquerors through Him who loved us.--Romans 8:37

Why Didn't I Take the Blue Pill?

Nuts. Here I thought I had to do something bad to succumb to evil.  I don't.  All I have to do is give up. 

Following Christ has brought so much to my life--a hope and a purpose, a solid foundation, a clear path to walk, a promise of eternity, the touch of God Himself--but sometimes it doesn't seem like enough.

It's not enough when justice does not appear to be served.
It's not enough when Christians don't act like Christ.
It's not enough when I get tired of fighting.
It's not enough when the world behaves so much like, well, the world.

When evil triumphs.  When power and privilege corrupt, then corrupt more. When people who have made wrong decisions make worse ones.  

Living went so much more smoothly when I went with the flow, when I let the world carry me along rather than buck its trend, even though I know its trend leads to destruction.
Anyone who tries to follow Christ is subject to this:
I am afraid that, just as Eve was deceived by the serpent's cunning, your minds might be led astray from devotion to Christ.--2Corinthians 11:3


In the end, an expectation of ease leads to evil.  It happened to Adam and Eve.  It happens to us.

We have got to understand that our lives as Christians will be hard and will not get much easier this side of heaven.  That's why God warns us that He has to be enough.  Always.  Just Him.
Or:
Since they did not think knowledge  of God worthwhile, He gave them over to a depraved mind to do what ought not to be done.--Romans 1:28

God gives us peace, but peace does not equal ease.
As odd as it sounds, peace comes from not giving up, from arming ourselves every day, from admitting that the world is Satan's territory and a hostile place, then living in it as God's own.  
Ease and comfort come with living in Satan's world as Satan's own, and this I cannot do.
I know the truth.  I already took the red pill.  There is no going back.

Lord search me; test me and know my anxious thoughts.--Psalm 139:23

God's Hand--Why Murder is a Sin

I don't easily obey authority.
Admit it.  Neither do you.

I have trouble with people, who I know are just as broken and sinful as I am, telling me what to do. But God says that, if they are in a position of authority over me, I am to do what I am told as long as it does not contradict His Word.  And I don't like it.

I once saw a visual of this that actually helped a lot, however.  It was lineup of sorts:  I face my authority, but Christ stands behind him, quietly, firmly, with unwavering sinlessness.  I might not want to obey the person, but no matter what, I can obey my God. I may see a flesh and blood person, but God stands behind him bearing authority I cannot, do not even want, to debate. 

Now I correctly understand authority.   It resides, all of it, not with a man or woman, but with God.  I obey not because people are right or just, but because God is.

The same logic, God says, applies to how I deal with my enemies, and this is why:
Our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.--Ephesians 6:12

Just as I look at my authorities and obey because I see God working through them, I, in the same way, look at my enemies and see not my battle with them, but God's battle with evil. I have to remember that the battle is not mine, but God's. 

Men themselves are not evil.  God made them, every one of them.  They are, however, twisted and used by evil.  Through it all, God is fighting the battle to win them back right in front of our eyes.  

I am to engage in that battle, but not against their flesh. I am to battle the evil that controls their flesh.  Murder only kills the flesh.  It does not defeat the enemy.

First Light

I have wondered for a long time about how soldiers get ready for their days, the ones in which they know they will have to risk their lives in combat and during which they might die. The rest of us get up, brush our teeth, decide what to wear or what to have for breakfast, kiss our spouse, and go to work. Somehow, a solder has to rub sleep out of his eyes, shoulder his weapon, and prepare to fight for his life.

I have heard a few discussions about this, memories of times filled with bullets and explosions and blood. I have heard about days when the dead lay all around except for one. I have heard about the smell of spent shells and been asked to imagine the sound of the accumulated gunfire of a hundred men shooting at once, but I have never experienced anything even remotely like it. I do know, however, someone who has.

Israel's King David did not use a gun, but he did use spears and shields. And he also did something that few soldiers can: he found words for what he experienced.

Strangers are attacking me; ruthless men seek my life, men without regard for God. -Psalm 53: 3
See how they lie in wait for me! Fierce men conspire against me for no offense or sin of mine, O Lord--Psalm 59:3Every soldier must at some time cry out just like David did. And I'm ashamed to say it, so do I, even though my lot is less dangerous and the price much lower. Some days, enemies just seem to crowd around and I can almost hear their spears rattle. On those days, though, I have to find solace in the same place David did.
Contend, O Lord, with those who contend with me; fight against those who fight against me. Take up shield and buckler, arise and come to my aid. Brandish spear and javelin against those who pursue me. --Psalm 35: 1-2a

And on those days, knowing that we do not have the final say as to who wins or loses, who lives or dies, there is only one place to look for real assurance.
Say to my soul, 'I am your salvation.' Psalm 35: 2b
Rest, soldier. Your battle may still rage, but the Victor fights beside you, and has already won.