Raising our Banner

In reading the Old Testament, I notice that ancient people built altars a lot. Every time something significant occurred, they erected a new one to commemorate the occasion. In addition, when God designed His Tabernacle in the desert and the Temple in Jerusalem, He specified that each contain an altar also. On each of these altars, the same activities took place: slaughter and sacrifice.

Moses, as leader of the Israelites, set this pattern. Shortly after God delivered His people from the Egyptians and showed them He would provide miraculous food for them on their journey, and that, by defeating the Amelkites, He would defend them from enemies, Moses knew what to do.

Moses built an altar and called it, The Lord is my Banner.--Exodus 17:15

Moses first used his altar for sacrifice, for the slaughter of that which God desired. Then, afterward, he declared it his identifying banner. In doing this, Moses made public statement that everything from which he drew his strength originated with his sacrifice and obedience to God.

A banner not only identifies, it proclaims. It announces allegiance. When it is planted in a plot of ground, it declares victory. A banner identifies the source of strength.

Our strength comes from sacrifice, too. The altar is where we both acknowledge God and access His power. At the altar we acknowledge sin and the price necessary to expunge it. The altar, always fresh with Christ's blood, is where we meet God, always looking up from our knees.

Moses' ancient altar served a precursor to the cross, and as such, remains a declaration of both allegiance and victory. The altar and the cross irrevocably tie sacrifice to freedom and strength.

Moses' altar became his banner because it connected him to God. Our cross does the same, a banner meant to be carried before us with holy awe.

Where Are You, God?

In the course of living a life of faith, I often find myself looking for God. He's everywhere, He tells us, but life, in all of its bland ordinariness, doesn't seem a fit place for Him to occupy. Intellectually, I know He's around when I'm doing dishes or driving to work but, in the absence of a burning bush or pillar of fire, I am hard put to recognize His Glory.

In ancient times, God had men build him first a tabernacle, then a temple in which He specified a place for Himself, the Holy of Holies. They watched Him descend into it and take up residence there.

My dwelling place will be with them. I will be their God and they will be my people. Then the nations will know that I the Lord make Israel holy when my sanctuary is among them forever.--Ezekiel 37:28

Now, the New Testament tells me that my body is God's temple,

Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, who you have received from God?--1Corinthians 6:19

but I have a hard time reconciling the precious beauty and careful obedient provision of the first temple with my own vain and unreliable striving. I know without a doubt that I am not a fit temple for God.

But I am looking at this the wrong way. In both cases, it is not the place but the Person to which He draws attention. God is not talking about two things here, but one. The sanctuary of the temple and the temple of the body are the same thing.

And there is more...God once lived in buildings made of hides, then of bricks made by men and now He lives in men themselves but, just as the first building was not made of only one man's home, neither is His dwelling now made in only one man's individual body. As the first temple encompassed the worship of many men, so does it still. Today, God doesn't only dwell in me, He dwells in us. The body He occupies today is the church, not our local go-to-Sunday building, but the church He instituted when He made Peter His rock. The church that includes all men and all countries for all time who believe.

Once, His visible power descended into a communal sanctuary. It still does. The Holy of Holies doesn't exist today only in my heart. Through the church, God makes a public declaration of power. The nations must visibly recognize Him. Every temple God designates exists for only one purpose: to demonstrate His Glory.

We cannot hoard God. He will make Himself known and has designated the places from which He will do it. Both within our hearts and in communal worship, God declares Himself.

Of course life is ordinary. Compared to God, everything is.

Finally...

After all these years, I finally get it. It's not the turkey, or the cranberry sauce, or going over the river and through the woods to Grandma's house. It has little to do with the meal we make so much of a fuss about or reuniting with distant relatives. It is about much, much more...

He who sacrifices thank offerings honors Me and prepares the way so that I can show him the salvation of God--Psalm 50:23

We are to give thanks not only so that we learn to appreciate our blessings, but more so that we can open the way for God. God wants us to thank Him not only for what He gives, but for who He is.

And it looks like this:

I looked and there was a great multitude that no one could count from every nation, tribe, and tongue, people, and language standing before the throne and in front of the Lamb. They wore white robes and held palm branches in their hands. And they cried in a loud voice,

"Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne and to the Lamb"...

They fell down on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, saying,

"Amen! Praise and glory and wisdom and thanks and honor and power and strength be to our God forever and ever! Amen!"--Revelation 7:9-12

Now that sounds like thanks.
Happy Thanksgiving.

What My Dog Doesn't Have

Thanksgiving is hard upon us and, more than at other times, we tend to share all for which we have cause to give thanks. The lists are long: health, wealth, security, safety, peace, family, faith. We all have at least some of these, but God's gifts go far beyond this.

In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God's grace that he lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding. And He made known to us the mystery of His will according to His good pleasure...Ephesians 1:7-9

When we list our gratitudes, we tend to include so many things that God gives all his creatures. He gave my dog some of the same things He gave me. Fido has health, security, safety, and a family too--he even experiences a kind of love. But Fido does not have, nor can he ever have, an understanding of God. Understanding is a higher gift, one God reserved for us alone. And He wants us to broadcast it.

But let the one who boasts boast about this: that they have the understanding to know me, that I am the LORD, who exercises kindness, justice and righteousness on earth, for in these I delight,” declares the LORD. Jeremiah 9:24

Happy Thanksgiving.

How to Find a Real Friend, Part 2

I had a tearful conversation this week with someone who'd been lied to by a friend. She just couldn't comprehend how someone she'd trusted for years would betray her so readily.

I felt sad for her, but remained a bit amazed that she was so surprised. She did not understand that no one is trustworthy. No one on this earth. The hurts and betrayals sometimes come intentionally and sometimes unintentionally, but they will come. Our friends will hurt us. Guaranteed.

Understanding man's basic failure to be faithful does not grow from pessimism; it simply allows God to take His proper place. It does not mean that our friends and family do not care--in fact, they provide islands of love, but even these come with storms. If you want a friend that never fails, you have only one choice.

God is not a man that He should lie, nor son of man, that He should change His mind--Numbers 23:19

God never lies, never exaggerates, never forgets, never deceives. He is mighty not only to save, but to remain steadfast for all time and in all circumstances.

The world is a dark place sometimes. Friends fail, but when the darkness closes in, reach for the light.

The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.--John 1:5

When we stand in the light, we can finally understand.

How to Find a Real Friend, Part 1

The world is confusing. We are always trying to figure out how we fit, how to relate to the people around us. We feel sometimes like Diogenes, wandering around with a lamp trying to find an honest man, someone we can trust. "Who am I?", we wonder. "Who are you?"

Diogenes, as far as anyone knows, never found his honest man and, consequently, found himself very much alone. We, too, want trustworthy companions but, like Diogenes, find our fellow humans wanting.

Diogenes failed to consider God. When we reach for God, we find everything men lack. Savior, Brother, Friend, Almighty. He is all these and more. But then, we encounter another puzzle.

God made us. He laid down our world and the laws that govern both it and us. We exist only at His pleasure. How can I possibly achieve friendship with the One who rules?

You are my friends if you do what I command. I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master's business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything I have learned from my Father I have made known to you.--John 15:14-15

Only God offers faithful friendship and, in order to enjoy it, He says that I must first obey Him. This does not sound like friendship to me. Friends share, not obey, but I can only share so much with a holy God. On a small scale, it's like trying to maintain a friendship with Alexander the Great. The gulf between us is just too wide.

Obedience to God, however, puts the relationship between us into proper perspective. While nothing can level the playing field, obedience opens the door to Him. When I obey eagerly out of love, He can treat me like a daughter and He can share not only knowledge, but His created heavens and earth as an inheritance. When I serve and consider myself bound to Him, I am tied to Him not by ownership, but by affection. Thus is His friendship not the precursor, but the byproduct of His commanded obedience. I cannot earn His friendship, but I can obey my way to it.

First, I believe. Then I obey. Later, I trust. I obey when it is hard because God has shared His truth. I trust when everything else fails because God has showed His vision. I serve when rewards fail because service to God's truth sanctifies. I persevere when men fail because friendship forged with God lasts forever.

Diogenes looked in the wrong place.

Please Pass the Valuables

Imagine this:

Tonight you have laid out your best china and spent hours cooking a feast for your dearest friends. These are the people you love the most, brothers and sisters only hearts can join. You have shared many evenings like this, but tonight is different. You've had some tough times recently.

A week ago, Joe promised you that he would fix the bad fuel pump on your car, but never had time and the car quit half way to work. Yesterday, you weren't feeling well and Laura said she would take you to the doctor but slept through the appointment. John lost the first edition you lent him. Rachel lied about you, telling her family that you'd been expelled for cheating in college. Randy finally decided that he'd waited long enough for your job, deliberately undermined your best account, and your boss fired you. Your friends, every one, have hurt or betrayed you.

But no one can tell tonight. You laugh, reminisce about the good times, and raise glasses in tribute to one another. Then, instead of dessert, you bring out a box you have saved just for this moment.
"I have something to give each of you," you tell them.

From the box, you remove your car keys and give them to Joe.
"What's this?" he asks.
"It's yours. I'm giving it to you."
He narrows his eyes. "I don't get it."
"There's nothing to get. I'm giving you the car."
He drops the keys on the table and waits.

You take everything else out of the box....the deed to your house, transfer of your 401K, the contents of your safety deposit box, your mother's wedding ring--everything of value that you own--and give them to your friends.

They grumble and murmur. One by one, they get up from the table, sharing low glances at each other but never looking back at you. They take their coats and head for the door, but before going out, remember to take your gifts. They remember that.

Would you give away everything you value to faithless friends? Well, neither would I, but we are not the givers. We are one of the friends. This is exactly what Jesus did in the upper room the night before He died. That dinner, in the company with men He loved, was framed, both before and after, in betrayal. The same men with whom Christ feasted demonstrated little but faithlessness and still, in the midst of it, He washed their feet and gave them Himself. The Last Supper rose as an island of blessing in a sad, black place.

And what Jesus did for the disciples, He still does for us today, giving everything without reservation when we don't see, don't follow, don't understand. Even when we deliberately forsake Him, He extends His hand holding the most precious of gifts.

This is my body, which is given for you.--Luke 22:19