My first real job was at a drugstore during my high school years. It was formative for me in many ways, but there is a small, simple lesson I learned there that I want to share with you.
People were always eager for weekly sales, and some items required a coupon to receive the discounted price. But when shoppers didn’t have the required coupon, I would have to deny them their deal because the clipping was…policy (queue music: duhn, Duhn, DUHNN!)
Of course, they hated it and soon I hated it, too—their dissatisfaction and appeals for the manager. But the lesson became bigger than a mere bottle of shampoo or 12-pack of Coke. It was about people…everywhere, particularly the disenfranchised.
The coupon incident let me see a larger group of folk with a host of needs who find themselves in a big business nation that often turns them away with not much more than a Sorry-that’s-policy attitude.
Do you tire of news stories about people going bankrupt and losing their homes because they get sick? I’m shocked that the top tenth of the top one percent of rich Americans control half of the entire nation’s wealth. And I’m beyond maxed with the cavalcade of contests and reality shows that lure and exploit people in the name of money and status.
Those missing coupons did something for me. They sharpened my vision of hurting people, not any wealth I might chance to have. They taught me that if you wish to help others, just do it—don’t make them jump through hoops for what you can freely and simply offer them. Be good to people and make life easier for them with your capital, not always for it.
This approach will also put an end to fundamental but needless questions, like “Do successful people have an obligation to give back?” and “Should athletes be role models?” Those questions always miss the point. Giving back is not a burden; it’s a privilege.
There’s enough wealth in America for each of us to live comfortably as middle-class citizens, but there is little hope of the people who most need that wealth ever seeing it. Moreover, our systems are broken. But what can happen within each of us is sensitivity to other’s needs and the compassion that motivates us to give of ourselves and our substance, expecting nothing in return.
“‘What sign can you show us to prove your authority to do all this?’… Jesus answered them, ‘Destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days.'” (John 2:18-19)
Jesus must have appeared to be a mad man when in the Temple he and his whip turn the place upside down. Tables and money lie all over the ground; doves flit here and there; sheep and oxen meander and start. The disciples, embarrassed and gawking, stand aside, and Peter beckons to his rabbi to calm down. “Do not make my Father’s house a house of merchandise!” Jesus rages. The Temple authorities rush near to investigate the commotion.
They put it to him—“By what authority do you bring reform to this Temple and its practice? Show us a sign.” It’s a dare they are certain this flake cannot produce. Miracles proved the presence and affirmation of the Almighty to the Jews and would characterize a true messiah. It is ironic that they demand a miracle from Jesus. This is the dawn of his public ministry, and these leaders will go on to despise him for the very thing they now request of him, along with his treacherous doctrine.
With razor-sharp insight, Jesus replies: “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” He speaks of his body—the word ‘temple’ was used interchangeably for the body—and even the disciples don’t understand what Jesus is talking about (v. 22). The officials are dumbfounded, for it had taken 46 years to erect the edifice around them. The preacher is an utter fool. Yet Jesus’s challenge is a house-size boulder fallen right into their peaceful pond.
The Temple and Jesus
Jesus equated his own body and purpose with the Temple cultic practice, which necessarily requires us to understand the purpose of the Temple. There were three primary utilizations of the Temple: It was a…
House for God’s presence. God designated a place to meet with his people. Even before the Temple, the Shekinah dwelt with the Hebrew people in the Tabernacle, or Tent of Meeting. The Temple was a permanent location, and God promised Solomon that he would affix his sacred name there.
Sanctuary for worship and prayers. God’s name and presence were at the Temple, so the Jews made their most earnest prayers there or toward it. Further, they offered their devotional sacrifices there.
Place to atone for sin. Certain sacrifices were required for redressing sin, reconciliation to God, and the removal of guilt.
“Fine!” Jesus says. “You want a miracle? Here’s one: destroy this temple of mine, and I will raise it up in three days!” The dare was returned. Although no one understood it, they were already part of the grandest miracle Jesus was staging.
The Significance of Jesus’s Death
We who read these accounts itch for Jesus to razzle-dazzle them and leave no doubt about his identity…you know, pull back his cloak so all could see the big “G” on his tunic. That’s the part we love in superhero cartoons and movies. But Jesus knew these leaders couldn’t handle a miracle if he offered one on a platter. They certainly didn’t believe in his preaching and were on another wavelength altogether. Jesus sought their spiritual trust; they needed a political savior with divine authority.
His overture to the leaders is stunning. It also proves something to me: that he completely understood his mission to redeem sinful humans. I had a longstanding qualm that our “sinner’s prayers” and preachments might be nothing close to Jesus’s intent. But is the gospel we pitch and the one he proclaimed similar or the same thing? I am convinced they are.
I set these words—“Destroy this temple”—beside others—“Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them”—and I am convinced even more, because they have a reciprocal effect on each other. If as a perfect human Jesus represents our sinfulness to God, being put to death, the Law of God is ultimately fulfilled; and to fulfill the Law of God, in God’s way, ultimately renders the Temple system obsolete, because:
The presence of God would now dwell on and within his people, as God promised through the Prophets, not in a structure.
Prayers and worship would now be made from the altar of the heart and not require sacrifices, except those of the heart leading to personal holiness.
The stumbling block of sin would be forever removed and humans would no longer be dominated by their moral guilt. Atoning sacrifices would not be necessary. People could approach God freely and for his aid.
Thus, Jesus’s words underscore the centrality of his death and resurrection in Christianity. It is the cornerstone event—the seminal miracle—on which Christian faith rests. Paul does the most to explain this: “For if the dead are not raised, then Christ has not been raised either. And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile; you are still in your sins” (1 Cor. 15:16-17).
The laws of God and ritual practice have become our altar of worship, upheld by the perfect work of Christ. Now we serve God not out of obligation but volition.
One final thing: something that strikes me and is important to note is that although Jesus came to reform, he did not spurn the cultic practice of the Jews; he respected it, for God had instituted it. Reading these incidents or Paul’s explanation that the law of God was indeed good helps us appreciate the value of the Law of Moses, the Temple practices, etc., in inculcating personal holiness in the minds and lives of the people. They are our heritage, too.
This is my attempt to reconcile the mystery about certain ones who encountered Christ. Here I present a reinvention of Malchus, servant to Caiaphas, in what became his addition to scripture. What strikes you? Also, read A Devil’s Point of View, a rethinking on Mark 1:21-26.
1 To Pelias, friend and brother in the gospel, and his household, faithful servants in the ministry of God: I write you so that your heart will hold firm in God and the powerful grace at work in you. 2 When you received your consecration, no one stood with you except me. 3 And I have kept my promise to you in the labor of Jesus Christ.
Malchus’s Conversion
4 No man believed me either, not even the soldiers who stood with me that night. 5 But after he touched my wounded head and the ear, the blood ceased flowing and all who saw it were astonished, for not even a scar remains. 6 And he spoke to me, saying, “My Father has called you his servant.” 7 None of my company dared to speak more about it, and the elders forbade me. 8 Yet the hand that healed me never departed. 9 The Spirit of the Nazarene greatly troubled me. I held my peace during the scandal, lest I put myself to death. But I could not withhold my witness forever. 10 Having suffered greatly at the hands of Caiaphas, I was thrown from his house and found haven in the company of the saints, who welcomed me into the faith and removed my burden. 11 I met Peter again, the friend of our Lord and my slayer, who now showed me great compassion and explained the gospel to me, a feeble child. The Spirit was mighty in him. 12 I continued in fellowship with the church in Jerusalem where there was strength and wonderful works of God. 13 My zeal grew; so did the word of God in me. 14 Then, the grace of God came to me from our brother Apollodoros to build the church in Bithia. 15 After much prayer and counsel from those higher in the faith, I landed upon this shore the servant of God, as he had promised.
Sharing His Sufferings
16 Who among us have borne the scorn of Christ without cause? 17 Did he not shake Israel with his words? Did we not faint at the radiance of his goodness? 18 You were a man with honor, but you gave it up for Christ and now carry his marks in your flesh. The holy apostles suffer persecutions daily. Is it for nothing? 19 Instead, we gladly bear this burden, for we behold him unveiled in our hearts. Our perseverance is born of faith.
Undeniable Proof
20 Remind the saints about us, your friends in tribulation. We pray for you daily. 21 Refute those who undermine the gospel and cleverly argue that Christ was a sorcerer or that he worked no miracles. 22 You saw him with your eyes and I received his touch. 23 Proclaim the truth for which you have given everything. We were the accusers of Christ but are now the very evidence of his victory.
Final Words
24 Greet Attolos, with whom I once labored. We praise God for the great grace that rests upon him. We expect his fellowship and ministry soon. 25 May the peace of our savior be with you all.
A recent excursion reminded me of all the reasons I despise Global Positioning Systems (GPS). We pay tech companies for the convenience of GPS, not always for any intelligence in the device.
Why does a GPS tell me to take a bypass and then send me through the heart of downtown? Moreover, why when we’re somewhere off course do I have to irritably wait on those who only trust devices, although I follow signs well and can clearly see where to go? Maybe I should stop second-guessing myself. After all, we’ve lived a very long time with only maps, although many of us have never learned to read them.
My disgust includes online web mapping, too. Printed directions are the worst! Many of the step-by-step instructions are needless and actually set drivers up to make errors on the simplest journeys. Call it more hassle than help.
Perhaps your experience is different and GPS rivals the cellphone or internet for “Greatest Invention,” but I think good ole map reading works better most times. All one has to do is look a map over well, use a little common sense, and be at the destination in short order.
The Map of Truth
While I was off-course and stewing about these things, I reflected on how the same principle applies to faith. We have a map; it is the word of God. All we have to do is read it, do what it says, and be on our way.
Sometimes, however, we require for ourselves more than the essentials. Deep theology and philosophy convinces some of us that we’re walking our path the right way and are indeed headed the right direction. I don’t rail against higher theology because I was a graduate theology student, and I continue to deeply value and respect the intellectual aspects of Christian faith. Yet I was astonished at the scores of proponents and their absurd and utterly outlandish ideas about God and faith. You’d be amazed.
The problem is we have young people who feel they need an inordinate knowledge or seminary to live for God; and we find older folk who need to prove something with it. Good doctrine is incredibly important and learning it is essential to personal faith and wholesome churches. But the life of God we desire comes through Jesus Christ. He is the one essential.
And it’s right there—with Jesus—where the immaterial stuff falls to the ground. If the point was to live for God, so much of the fluff I read in seminary would not exist. Thus, the Holy Spirit prompts us to search our map, the scripture itself, and, like Pilgrim on his way to the Celestial City, be about the journey. “Just do what it tells you,” he says. “I’ll give more insight as you go.”
If we really mean to live for Jesus, we can be satisfied with the least that will help us reach him. I’d rather arrive at my destination using my map and feel pleasant than using the GPS and be angry and bitter, maybe even calling off the trip, for all the incongruous or excess information I’ve received. Likewise, there’s enough already in the scriptures to show us Christ and to start us living for him. Any other essential he will bring in due time.
Most of us know exactly where we’d be if we didn’t have the Lord in our lives. We like to act as if sin were so obscure and a bygone issue for us. You know—“there’s no telling” what or how many things we could be caught up in. I usually don’t buy that from people, however, because our flesh hasn’t forgotten the taste of sin and we repeatedly trip over certain indiscretions. Don’t feel bad about it.
It’s important to be aware of our relation to sin; it will make us watchful of vice and keep us relying on grace. It’s also good to know that our deprave nature doesn’t impinge on the work of Christ for us. We are free in him despite our sinful condition. I’ll explain by using an illustration.
My elementary school was three separate buildings. Outside the main building and field area was a fence. That fence protected the space and kids from a few things: a busy street, railroad tracks on the other side, and any possible bad person who could enter the schoolyard.
Children had the freedom to play within the yard safely as long as they remained on the yard, the protected space. Further, the fence granted everyone freedom to learn and play, even children who may have had curious or mischievous desires to run off, who were no less free for having those desires. But no such freedom (to learn and play) existed outside the fence.
The Choice to Stay Free
Galatians 5:13 expresses this concept perfectly: “It is absolutely clear that God has called you to a free life. Just make sure that you don’t use this freedom as an excuse to do whatever you want to do and destroy your freedom” (Message).
I’ll use myself as an example. I am no saint. (Surprise!) I love God with every part of me, except those unlovable parts that cannot love him—features of my person permeated with sin and craving of sins Michael fights. I’m okay acknowledging this, and it’s why I say we know where our hearts could lead us.
But just because I battle impulses averse to my calling in Christ and sometimes wish to venture beyond that “fence of grace,” it doesn’t negate the grace of God in my life, or in yours. It means that we have to teach ourselves how to walk in the Spirit in order not to gratify the desires of the flesh (Gal. 5:16).
Let me point out something from the illustration. We possess freedom only within the guidelines of holiness, for we have been freed to live for God. It is not ironic that Paul uses legal language and refers to the law of the Spirit of Christ freeing us from the law of sin and death (Rom. 8:2).
One’s freedom exists in obligation to the person or thing that frees. A government permits individual liberties according to the laws of the land. Ours is a holy obligation to our Savior to live with love, joy, peace, longsuffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Gal. 5:22-23). But leaving the play area ends our freedom to enjoy these things.
Participating in sin doesn’t mean we cease belonging to God. His grace will still keep us in our sinfulness—as mercy—but why leave ourselves to the mercy of God and risk consequence?
Let’s fight to stay free. Let’s love our freedom too much to leave it for the briefest moment in which Satan can take advantage of us. Let us cease viewing the grace of God as barring us from something and instead see it as liberating us to relish all good things. Stop obsessing over the fence and what’s beyond it and enjoy the yard.
In your time of temptation and struggle, stop, think, and say aloud to yourself, “This is where my freedom ends.”
Something I do customarily is reread my essays and think through the lessons in them. That might seem strange to you, but it is incredibly consoling and affirming to my faith. In fact, I think it makes good sense.
If my writing reflects what I’m discovering in my walk with Christ, those chronicles exist to encourage me because they tell the story of Christ’s and my friendship. Moreover, they are tools with which I can appraise my growth, and they will forever testify of God’s faithfulness to me, helping me to trust him in the future.
Until recently all of these writings were simply buried in my computer. Then it occurred to me, What good is that? Could they not edify someone else?
What’s in Your Pantry?
Matthew 13:52 says, “Therefore every teacher of the law who has become a disciple in the kingdom of heaven is like the owner of a house who brings out of his storeroom new treasures as well as old.” I love this verse…so eloquent and probing. It is also descriptive of the task of any minister or Christian worker—and us faith bloggers, too.
There are layers of insight in this verse. Jesus focuses us on the householder and his contribution, which is his wisdom about the kingdom. What we have to offer others (our treasure or deposit) is all we have learned and ascertained about God through his word and our experiences with him, insight about his past involvement in our lives—even while we were in sin—and things he currently teaches us. It is an exquisite concept.
How encouraging it is to know that every experience we have is capable of serving a need in someone else’s life. Today with one person we may need to share how we met the Lord years ago; tomorrow with another we may need to relay how God’s grace is helping us right now overcome a personal struggle.
“Things new and old” (NKJV), a revealing expression, indicates a bounty of wisdom that should characterize believers and their capacity to serve other’s needs.
Tongue of the Learned
Those “instructed concerning the kingdom” (NKJV) are disciples and if disciples, then stewards. We not only possess a trove of goods to offer others, we also have the facility, by virtue of our training (and ongoing discipleship), as well as the authority to perform as stewards, such as to provide, govern, protect, and defend.
Don’t let that be strange to you. Your knowledge of Christ right now can nourish and sustain, bring accountability, and protect and defend through prayer and guidance—those who are our Christian brothers and sisters and equally those currently in the clutches of sin and evil.
As stewards we work on the behalf of Christ. We labor for the Lord; the souls to whom we minister belong to him. We endeavor to claim all for the kingdom of God. The apostle Paul, especially in the Pastoral Epistles, presents to us a clear example of how our full ministry serves God’s purpose.
So if you haven’t gotten the message yet, Jesus is speaking directly to each of us saying, “You are without excuse: you have something to contribute.” It’s easy to feel like we’re novices and don’t know enough Bible or don’t compare to other strong Christians. But none of us get passes here.
Of the kingdom we’ve been instructed and for the kingdom we must share. What God teaches us must flow through us. Although there is much similarity in our experience with Christ, none of our experiences are alike. Because of that we have an obligation to one another as brothers and sisters to share what we uniquely possess of Christ to build each other’s faith. We don’t withhold helpful knowledge from our natural siblings; we shouldn’t do it with our spiritual ones.
Fit Christians
None of it will do any good, however, if we don’t bring these lessons, experiences, reflections, and illuminations out of the storerooms and share them. “Therefore, encourage one another and build each other up…” (1 Thess. 5:11).
An African preacher spoke in my college chapel service exhorting us all to be “fit” Christians, not “fat” ones. The point was not to constantly ingest the word but never exercise it.
How you feel called to exercise the word is not the important thing. What is important is that you be active with what you possess. The lessons in your life, rich as they are, belong to others besides you.
Do not be hastily critical of Christianity as religion. It is the door by which we enter faith. We are to blame, however, should we not walk along far enough and discover relationship, for it is the heart of the house. What do you seek? If religion is what you seek, then religion is all you will get. But if it is Christ whom you desire, then he will surely be found by you—and your religion will lead you to him.
There are the passionate believers who gripe that Christianity is not a religion, but a relationship—and then there’s me.
Trust me: I’m not looking for a fight or trying to be right; I just need to add some depth to the discussion. After all, in a purely superficial way, none of us would be Christians if Christianity wasn’t a religion, its earliest defenders having fought to the death for its doctrines and orthodoxy.
So there is more to be said about what is meant by these comments and still more that some of us need to understand about the worth of religious practice.
Religious Practices
My first task here is to pare down the word “religion” to emphasize the practice and ritual aspects of the word, which is broad and encompasses far-ranging elements, like culture, belief systems, and deities; and focusing on religious practice, enjoin it with our faith and beliefs in the Christian God.
Being so mindful then, what any of us will learn about all religions is that they entail personal and corporate rituals that connect adherents to a deeper reality, spirituality, or divinity. What Christians may find surprising is that their disciplines of meditation, prayer, fasting, and the like are very much the same practices found in other religions, although they may be performed differently and toward a different end.
Spiritual disciplines (or practices, habits) are tools of the interior life that usher a person into a deeper and more meaningful experience and interaction with his or her value system or divinity. They achieve this by introducing behaviors that eliminate vice, produce virtue, develop restraint, and refine sensibilities; personal results can be highly transformational. Such ardent practice will achieve its purpose whether one is Christian or Hindu.
Christian Spiritual Habits
Christian spiritual formation uses religious habits to develop a loving fellowship with Jesus Christ. Christians practice a catalog of spiritual habits to achieve this: (more common ones like) study (devotional and academic) to know God through the Bible and theology; meditation to fill the soul with God’s words and thoughts; prayer and fasting; confession; worship; (and less common ones like) hospitality and secrecy.
These are very much aspects of religion and an essential part of Christian faith.
Spiritual habits, however, do not guarantee that the one practicing them is connecting (in this case) to God. We all should seek to be very devout persons, but not all will be because, truthfully, they don’t care to be. We should be more concerned, however, about those who do go through the motions…pray, read their Bibles, church, yet their lives evince little evidence of Christ. Either way, there is always more waiting for us.
The beleaguered Christians I referenced earlier are really insisting against being caught up in a system of rules and legalistic injunctions that would extinguish a vibrant faith rather than enhance it. I understand this. But religion and religious practice, although we can personally make it tedious and false, is not the problem.
Buried Treasure
I find that we skip to the relationship aspect of Christianity so quickly that we largely miss the depth and range of Christian religion, in general, and certainly its practice. Ask most people in our churches today anything about classic Christian spirituality, and you may both stand there embarrassed. People convert to Christ with excitement then predictably grow stale and frustrated because they don’t know what living a Christian life entails.
Many of our churches have altogether missed the point. Our purpose seems to feverishly get people saved, an important thing, but we have often not produced a clear picture of discipleship, which encapsulates everything we do, from conversion to converting.
I believe the spiritual habits rest at the very center of a vibrant relationship with Christ and a wholesome church. Furthermore, I think it is imperative that we do more looking back to our moorings and earliest practices to not only avoid sin, but also to ward off the spiritual frothiness of this generation and the proliferation of Christian pop culture that characterizes very many churches.
Means to an End
Jesus was a Jew and practiced the rituals and habits of Judaism. His denunciation of the Pharisees and religious leaders was not an attack on religion, but their legalism.
Christ is indeed the heart of Christianity, but the way we acquaint him is through conscientious religious practice. It is the corridor leading to where he reposes. Remember, the presence of God was at the heart of the Temple, but there was a (God-ordained) manner in approaching it.
God’s message to us has always been “Be ye holy, as I am holy,” but to answer the question of how we become holy, Jesus says things like, “When you pray…when you fast…”
“Christianity is not a religion, but a relationship.” I think it’s both.
“Jews in Exile” by Eduard Bendemann Wallraf-Richartz Museum, Cologne CC BY-NC, Magdeburg, Flickr
Encouraging articles about persevering through tough times are plentiful; there is nothing wrong with them. But I want to share with you an inspiring coming-out scenario lifted directly from scripture. Since we all are in process and will encounter tough times, it would do us well to keep this text handy. It offers a glimpse of God’s rescue.
Psalm 126
Psalm 126 is one of 15 psalms (120-134) called “Songs of Degrees” or “Songs of Ascent.” Four of them are attributed to David (122, 124, 131, 133), one to Solomon (127), and the remainder have unknown authors.
The origin of the name—Degrees, Ascent—is uncertain. It is often thought that they were purposed for pilgrimages to Jerusalem or sung by the Hebrews upon their return from captivity. There is also the notion that there may be a thought progression in them. The truth, however, is that the categorization is not understood. The circumstances of their composition or the occasion for which they were used granted them a certain unity and distinction by the editor of Psalms. Still, the title would have been fully understood by Hebrew readers.
Psalm 126 is one of only two (the other: Ch. 122) that could possibly have anything to do with a Babylonian return; and it appears that the return of exiles may very well be the subject here. The psalm is a first-person testimony of exiles recalling their release from captivity.
VERSE 1(ESV)
“When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion…”
Have you ever been in hardship so severe that it seemed that you would never get out of it? Pain and suffering has the tendency to make us feel isolated and locked in circumstance. Sometimes we forget faith and cast off hope (Isa. 49:15). But this verse reveals a God who always knows where we are and how to free us.
Some Bible versions are worded more aligned to the New King James (NKJV)—“When the Lord brought back the captivity of Zion…”—the word “captivity” meaning “return,” referring to the captives themselves. The notion is the Lord’s deliverance and by not only bringing us out of misery, but also freeing everything connected to us. It is a recovery or recompense in ways we may have resolved would never happen.
You see, God has the power to free us, our goods, and our ability to prosper. He doesn’t just release the captives; he establishes them and gives them livelihood. “He will beautify the humble with salvation” (Ps. 149:4). The word “fortunes” used by some versions is good.
“…we were like those who dream.”
Our burdens were so monumental that, once delivered, we could hardly believe it. It was surreal. Too often we’ve watched news stories of a man wrongly imprisoned for 10, 15, 25 years, only to be set free immediately after conclusive evidence proved his innocence; certainly it takes time for him to understand his new reality.
It is the great disparity between our dire situation and unexpected relief that shocks the senses and may even cause us to fear that our new state isn’t lasting. For instance, people who have starved have to learn not to hide food when they finally have enough to eat. They fear that satisfaction won’t last and that they’ll starve again.
VERSE 2
“Then our mouth was filled with laughter, and our tongue with shouts of joy…”
These people were exiles—prisoners—for years. Now they were free, and it came without expectation and with ecstatic joy. What we’re witnessing in these two verses is a reversal of what we understand of the Kubler-Ross model, or five stages of grief. The first two stages are denial and anger. Denial encompasses shock at a great sadness, just as shock and denial, seen here, was the initial response of the exiles’ great joy. Now, the shock wearing off, they cannot contain their giddiness.
They’re so full with excitement that all they can do is laugh with incredulity. I imagine it to be like a person on the verge of bankruptcy suddenly inheriting millions of dollars. The NKJV expresses the latter clause as “our tongue with singing.” Music often expresses what mere sentences cannot.
“…then they said among the nations, ‘The Lord has done great things for them.’”
The “they” here are non-Israelites, or heathen (KJV), those that don’t know the Lord—they testify to his mighty deeds! It reminds me of Nebuchadnezzar, after seeing the fourth man in the fire, standing back in amazement and acknowledging the reality of the Hebrew God.
People around us often know details about our lives. It is not possible to hide everything about ourselves (and who really cares to expend a great deal of energy trying?) And non-Christian people on our jobs, in our social organizations, our peers and neighbors will see us, the Christians, go through trial. Some will mock for the seeming lack of regard our so-called God shows toward us. But we should be encouraged. Not only is pain working a reward within us and for us, it is also working toward a testimony of the greatness of God.
In the end God will prove himself and no one will be able to deny that it is his doing. Some struggles are so monumental that only God can change them, but we must be convinced—like the Hebrew boys—that God is able even if he doesn’t answer. He just might shock us all with his goodness!
And isn’t that the point? The glory of God is a testimony of his affection, that he is for us and his nature is goodness itself. He is eager to show us kindness.
VERSE 3
“The Lord has done great things for us!”
This is the reply of the Israelites—“Absolutely!” “Indeed!” And there’s also an element of “You cannot possibly understand.” We see people, perhaps smiling on the outside or getting on with their lives, but never have a clue about the depth of pain, lack, or suffering they’re dealing with. If they told us stories about the ins-and-outs of their daily lives…the number of jobs and the type of schedule they manage just to put food on their tables or the domino effect of trouble that fell upon them—we might be stunned.
So when God delivers people like this, we can rejoice with them; yet there is an intimacy about the whole thing that only they can share with their Deliverer. Only he knows how their hearts hurt, how situations tried their souls, the things they lost, and the lessons they learned.
“…we are glad.”
Our souls are satisfied. Others can be happy for us, but only we can be satisfied. If the Lord permits us to go through pain, he knew what the pain would accomplish. But when he brings us out, the true reward is not the mere reversal of fortune; instead it is the satisfaction of seeing the full scope of his purpose. It takes a really “seasoned saint” to acknowledge on the coming-out end, “It was good that I went through my affliction” (Isa. 53:10-12). The experience may have been hell itself, but the work of God within us and through us makes it all worth it.
VERSE 4
“Restore our fortunes, O Lord…”
This verse implies that the restoration wasn’t complete and was most likely in progress. So the psalmist implores the Lord that full deliverance would be manifested. It very well could have been a prayer that all of his Israelite compatriots be freed from exile since we know that the exiles returned in stages over several years.
This is a good place for us to stop and ask the Lord to finish his work within us, using that great Pauline verse, Philippians 1:6: “Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”
Lord, we thank you that our lives are hidden in you. You have ordered our every step along this path of life. Where we must face trial, teach us patience and help us to trust your providence. You will deliver us; you will satisfy us. You will make your name great to all who see. Complete your work in us. Cause us to one day acknowledge that when you tested the good in us, it was a good thing indeed. In Jesus’s name, Amen.
“…like streams in the Negeb!”
Restore our fortunes like the dry desert streams that are restored and swollen by the autumn and winter rains.
VERSE 5
“Those who sow in tears shall reap with shouts of joy!”
Isn’t this wonderfully poetic? Agriculture is obviously a readily used illustration tool and a worthy one. But what I like about this verse is the oblivious thing happening with the subject. No one views suffering as valuable; pain is visceral—you feel it, spurn it, run away from it. God allows the yoke to come upon us and we ask why. It all seems so needless.
The psalmist images tears as seed. All of our misery is borne in our tears, yet our tears, in God’s eyes, are rudiments of renewal and reward. Suffering people might never be convinced that their grief is a spiritual act of sowing, but the scriptures assure us of this concept in many places.
God’s promise comes through resoundingly in this verse: “I will repay your trouble.” And to anyone experiencing hardship, you should know that God has not forgotten your pain. He has seen every tear you’ve cried. You’re gonna get through this. The harvest sprouting for you is going to make you shout with joy.
VERSE 6
“He who goes out weeping, bearing the seed for sowing…”
The concept continues. Picture that person ambling along dejected and softly weeping.
“…shall come home with shouts of joy, bringing his sheaves with him.”
I like the assurance of the NKJV here: “shall doubtless come again…” The allusion to the sower remains, but the reward is imaged here: a sheaf. A sheaf is a bundle of grain produced from a harvest.
Need I say more? The one who trod the earth lamenting his or her lack and loss and without a clue that their own tears were working toward the answer of their prayers will “doubtless come again” leaping and laughing and falling over in disbelief that the Lord has favored them with more than they could have ever imagined.
Many years ago my family ate Sunday dinner with a family friend. We all attended the same church, where I was a young minister, and we were accompanied by another young lady also from the church.
The gathering was lighthearted and entertaining. The table roared with laughter at one point when something funny was said; I laughed until I cried. The young lady, seated beside me, turned to see me in stitches and recoiled. “You aren’t supposed to laugh like that! You’re a minister!” Her comment sidetracked the moment and became its own topic of conversation.
That scene always comes to mind when I think about being a Christian and living with transparency. I feel that my faith allows me to be a more transparent person in most ways because I live with my heart turned toward God. I don’t say that for points, but I honestly believe this should be the case ideally for Christians.
I’d like to think that Jesus laughed the loudest and grieved deeply because he knew his humanity was undergirded by God’s grace.
I would be remiss, however, to deny that there are times when I am tempted to cover up the real me with the saint I’d like to portray. Yet I’ve been schooled by the Holy Spirit well enough to differentiate between simple and honest living and pretense.
But I get it. I understand the dilemma we Christians—ministers particularly—find ourselves in, right amongst our own kind. Barring our natural impulse to hide flaws, being God-loving, Bible-reading, do-gooders sometimes makes it difficult to let our unglamorous parts show or to reveal our scars.
Sometimes we allow ourselves to let others dress us up in ways that prevent us from being real people in constant need of the grace of God. And this becomes a deadly deception of Satan when we take the bait and float along on the commendation of the masses and accept the “I’m okay” mindset, thinking that our wounds, vices, failings, and deficiencies can be left untended and not harm us. But they do ultimately and often at the expense of our good name or, worse, our livelihood or ministry. Ministers are well acquainted with this pressure.
And speaking of ministers, it shocks us when we hear of one falling to some misdeed. But I wonder if the culture of fakery we’ve created in some of our churches hasn’t backed many of us, ministers and all, into moral corners out of which we dare not step without a bright smile and neat and tidy lives—and so precipitated one’s demise.
I believe we should tell our testimonies about how God saved and delivered us, but why don’t we tell how God is still saving and delivering us? Let’s keep it real. If we did, those who have experienced God’s healing in their lives could certainly help others begin their process of healing; and those who are humble enough to share their struggles could find the compassionate support of people who have walked their path and embolden others to reveal their scars. Many people don’t share their battles for fear that they’re unique and all alone in their situation.
If everyone in the community has it together (and they don’t) and is not sharing (too often the case) then there is a severe lack of discipleship, accountability, and fellowship.
I understand that some things in our lives are better left private and cannot or should not be shared with everybody. But to the extent that we all can simply be the graced of God, let us not be so foolishly concerned about our reputations that we allow any person to be deceived by sin or deprived of restoration.
A 'Mike' for Christ 