Today's readings: Ps 87, 90; Hos 1:1-2:1; Acts 20:1-16; Luke 4:38-44
When someone claims to be on a mission from God, we probably think they are making a Blues Brothers reference. If we realize they are serious, we may question their grip on reality. When someone’s calling makes us uncomfortable, we tend throw around words like obsession. We say things like, “I know she’s really into recycling… but used staples?” We know Christ told the rich young man to sell everything and give the proceeds to the poor (Luke 18:22), but how would we react if someone we knew actually went and did it? People immersed in mission can look unbalanced to us… and raise uncomfortable questions within us.
What would we make of Hosea? On God’s order, he married a cult prostitute and named two of their children the Hebrew equivalents of “not my people” and “no mercy” so he could proclaim his family a living symbol of God’s dissatisfaction with Israel. In the field of missions, he makes staple-recyclers look like unranked amateurs. But what can he teach us?
Though Hosea is undoubtedly a more extreme example of dedication to mission than any of us will need to be, he is a model of structuring one’s life around a relationship with God, rather than cramming that relationship into a life already full of other things. Ideally, we would judge all our activities by how well they foster our relationship with God, and change or discard those that don’t. Easier said than done, right? We can’t perfect ourselves, but we can prioritize according to how God calls us, and stop worrying about how people might negatively perceive our dedication.
If Hosea is a bit too extreme for us to relate to, we can also look to Jesus. When he was ready to leave Capernaum, the people wanted to prevent him, but he was clear about the need to spread the Gospel elsewhere (Luke 4:42-43). Not everyone will receive our mission-based decisions gladly, but we do not need to feel guilty about sticking to the mission. At the same time, God’s love must always be our guiding principle, or the mission will become merely a new law to enslave us. Let us prayerfully consider what God calls us to do, and how we are called to do it.
Comfort: What other people think is never more important than God.
Challenge: Make a list of your weekly activities. Which are serving God, and which are wasting time? Remember that rest serves God also.
Prayer: God of strength, make me fit for the mission you would give me.
Evening readings: Ps 136
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 66, 67; Hos 2:2-14; Acts 20:1-16; Luke 4:38-44
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Thursday, September 23, 2010
People Are People
Today's readings: Ps 83; Est 7:1-10; Acts 19:11-20; Luke 4:14-30
Sometimes all it takes to be a prophet is an understanding of human nature and a keen sense of irony. When Jesus begins preaching in his home town of Nazareth, he knows the people in the synagogue will want the same signs he performed earlier in Capernaum. (You may remember from our reflection on Mark 6:1-6 that the people of Nazareth had so little faith, Jesus was unable to do more than lay hands on a few sick people.) Jesus tells them “no prophet is accepted in the prophet’s hometown” (Luke 4:24) Five verses later, they are trying to throw him off a cliff.
They could have tried to be more accepting, if only to prove him wrong, right? But that’s not human nature. Who as an adolescent does not at least consider responding to a parent by saying something like “If you’re going to give me the third degree about drinking every time I leave the house, I might as well just do it!” One irony is a protective parent pushing a teenager toward exactly the behavior s/he wishes to avert, and a second is the immature person’s assertion of innocence via threat of guilt. In a more adult example, consider the spouse who blames infidelity on a partner’s insecurity about the spouse’s faithfulness. Or the faithful who want to throw their savior off a cliff.
Jesus saw it coming, and so should we. Across time, geography and culture certain truths about human nature persist. We tend to think we are more self-aware than other people, but in reality – not so much. When we’re not busy convincing ourselves we are better than we are, we may be looking at other cultures and communities as “noble savages” who are somehow exempt from the less desirable traits of humanity. Or worse, we may look at whole groups of people as more capable of corruption than we could ever be. As clichéd as it might sound, people are people.
The good new is, we can be better. First, we must abandon the mindset that we are exempt from basic human nature. Second, we must honestly examine ourselves as an outsider (Jesus, maybe?) might see us. Finally, we must consciously decide to act in ways consistent with our faith, even if that action goes against our nature. Let’s step back from the cliff.
Comfort: God knows our nature – and our potential.
Challenge: Ask yourself what you do, even though you know better.
Prayer: God of strength, I seek your nature before my own.
Evening readings: Ps 85, 86
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 88; Est 8:1-8, 15-17; Acts 19:21-41; Luke 4:31-37
Sometimes all it takes to be a prophet is an understanding of human nature and a keen sense of irony. When Jesus begins preaching in his home town of Nazareth, he knows the people in the synagogue will want the same signs he performed earlier in Capernaum. (You may remember from our reflection on Mark 6:1-6 that the people of Nazareth had so little faith, Jesus was unable to do more than lay hands on a few sick people.) Jesus tells them “no prophet is accepted in the prophet’s hometown” (Luke 4:24) Five verses later, they are trying to throw him off a cliff.
They could have tried to be more accepting, if only to prove him wrong, right? But that’s not human nature. Who as an adolescent does not at least consider responding to a parent by saying something like “If you’re going to give me the third degree about drinking every time I leave the house, I might as well just do it!” One irony is a protective parent pushing a teenager toward exactly the behavior s/he wishes to avert, and a second is the immature person’s assertion of innocence via threat of guilt. In a more adult example, consider the spouse who blames infidelity on a partner’s insecurity about the spouse’s faithfulness. Or the faithful who want to throw their savior off a cliff.
Jesus saw it coming, and so should we. Across time, geography and culture certain truths about human nature persist. We tend to think we are more self-aware than other people, but in reality – not so much. When we’re not busy convincing ourselves we are better than we are, we may be looking at other cultures and communities as “noble savages” who are somehow exempt from the less desirable traits of humanity. Or worse, we may look at whole groups of people as more capable of corruption than we could ever be. As clichéd as it might sound, people are people.
The good new is, we can be better. First, we must abandon the mindset that we are exempt from basic human nature. Second, we must honestly examine ourselves as an outsider (Jesus, maybe?) might see us. Finally, we must consciously decide to act in ways consistent with our faith, even if that action goes against our nature. Let’s step back from the cliff.
Comfort: God knows our nature – and our potential.
Challenge: Ask yourself what you do, even though you know better.
Prayer: God of strength, I seek your nature before my own.
Evening readings: Ps 85, 86
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 88; Est 8:1-8, 15-17; Acts 19:21-41; Luke 4:31-37
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Just one little bite...
Today's readings: Ps 119:97-120; Est 6:1-14; Acts 19:1-10; Luke 4:1-13
Some of us long for the day when our faith is so strong, temptation will never taunt us again. It will be a long wait. Luke 4 tells the story of Jesus’ temptations in the desert. Note that while he was able to resist temptation, not even Jesus could avoid it entirely.
Many of us feel shame about our temptations. We think we are the only people tempted to think or act a certain way. We are especially reluctant to confess to those who could counsel us best, because we want to keep their respect. Instead we attempt to resist certain urges in silence and solitude, and the very thing we try to avoid – food, sex, gossip, drugs, alcohol – becomes the center of our attention because we have nowhere to banish it. Maybe we remember scripture like Matthew 5:28 ("anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart”) and believe our temptation has already condemned us.
When we speak openly about our temptations – to trusted counselors, support groups, etc. – we find first that we are not alone. We also find speaking the truth relieves the self-imposed pressure that only increases temptation. We learn scriptural words like “lust” and “covet” don’t refer to casual thoughts, but to ungoverned desire. We also learn casual thoughts left unchecked can become ungoverned desire. Most importantly, we learn sunlight is the best disinfectant even for spiritual ailments.
When we pray that God “lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil” what are we really asking? To avoid all instances of temptation? Unrealistic. We are acknowledging temptation is part of life, and that we must rely on God to help us respond appropriately. We know Jesus was tempted until the end of his ministry, when he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane that his burden might pass (Luke 22:42). The import lesson is that even in the face of temptation, he submitted himself to God.
We must not assume we’ve already lost the battle when we are tempted. The spiritual discipline of resisting temptation in small things helps us build strength in case serious temptations arise. Let’s follow the example of Jesus, and openly admit our temptation, but choose to submit to God.
Comfort: God is greater than temptation; we just have to invite him in.
Challenge: If you struggle with temptation, find a place to talk about it.
Prayer: God of strength, deliver us from evil.
Evening readings: Ps 81, 82
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 83; Est 7:1-10; Acts 19:11-20; Luke 4:14-30
Some of us long for the day when our faith is so strong, temptation will never taunt us again. It will be a long wait. Luke 4 tells the story of Jesus’ temptations in the desert. Note that while he was able to resist temptation, not even Jesus could avoid it entirely.
Many of us feel shame about our temptations. We think we are the only people tempted to think or act a certain way. We are especially reluctant to confess to those who could counsel us best, because we want to keep their respect. Instead we attempt to resist certain urges in silence and solitude, and the very thing we try to avoid – food, sex, gossip, drugs, alcohol – becomes the center of our attention because we have nowhere to banish it. Maybe we remember scripture like Matthew 5:28 ("anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart”) and believe our temptation has already condemned us.
When we speak openly about our temptations – to trusted counselors, support groups, etc. – we find first that we are not alone. We also find speaking the truth relieves the self-imposed pressure that only increases temptation. We learn scriptural words like “lust” and “covet” don’t refer to casual thoughts, but to ungoverned desire. We also learn casual thoughts left unchecked can become ungoverned desire. Most importantly, we learn sunlight is the best disinfectant even for spiritual ailments.
When we pray that God “lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil” what are we really asking? To avoid all instances of temptation? Unrealistic. We are acknowledging temptation is part of life, and that we must rely on God to help us respond appropriately. We know Jesus was tempted until the end of his ministry, when he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane that his burden might pass (Luke 22:42). The import lesson is that even in the face of temptation, he submitted himself to God.
We must not assume we’ve already lost the battle when we are tempted. The spiritual discipline of resisting temptation in small things helps us build strength in case serious temptations arise. Let’s follow the example of Jesus, and openly admit our temptation, but choose to submit to God.
Comfort: God is greater than temptation; we just have to invite him in.
Challenge: If you struggle with temptation, find a place to talk about it.
Prayer: God of strength, deliver us from evil.
Evening readings: Ps 81, 82
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 83; Est 7:1-10; Acts 19:11-20; Luke 4:14-30
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Prepare Ye...
Today's readings: Ps 78:1-39; Est 5:1-14; Acts 18:12-28; Luke 3:15-22
When our lives are going well, we are quick to thank God for our blessings. When they are going poorly, we can be equally quick to ask “why me?” and pray for deliverance. But what if things seem to be going poorly precisely because God is blessing us?
Though she doesn’t phrase it in spiritual language, Queen Esther feels the pull of a larger force which calls her to help her people. She responds by risking her life and approaching the king, who will either favor or kill her. She had no guarantee which would happen. How often do we say “God sure blessed me by putting me in harm’s way!” It takes a strong and mature faith to accept that serving God faithfully does not always mean a happy ending for us, at least not in this life.
Consider John the Baptist. He has been busy preparing the way of the Lord. Through baptism and preaching, he has been proclaiming the arrival of Jesus, whose sandals he humbly declares he is not worthy to untie (Luke 3:16). By preaching an alternative that will turn Roman imperialism upside down, John risks his life every day. He speaks truth to power, especially to Herod Antipas, who is in an adulterous and incestuous relationship with his niece. At the end of today’s passage, John is jailed for speaking too much truth. Jesus tells us “blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake” (Matt 5:11), but do we really embrace that idea? Anemic “feel-good” Christianity teaches us to expect only rewards for strong faith, but Jesus is more honest with us. Persecution is not a sign God is not with us – and it may be the sign we are right where we are supposed to be.
Esther first risks her life, then invites the king to a banquet as part of a slowly unfolding plan. John risks his life and freedom to usher in the incarnation of God’s kingdom. They both teach us success depends on properly laid groundwork. The struggle for peace, justice and truth is slow and sometimes dangerous. When we are unjustly persecuted for righteousness’ sake, we must not give up because God has abandoned us, but persevere because God is depending on us.
Comfort: The groundwork we lay leads to someone else’s deliverance.
Challenge: Think about times you have given up too soon.
Prayer: God of strength, I trust you even when I am persecuted.
Evening readings: Ps 78:40-72
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 119:97-120; Est 6:1-14; Acts 19:1-10; Luke 4:1-13
When our lives are going well, we are quick to thank God for our blessings. When they are going poorly, we can be equally quick to ask “why me?” and pray for deliverance. But what if things seem to be going poorly precisely because God is blessing us?
Though she doesn’t phrase it in spiritual language, Queen Esther feels the pull of a larger force which calls her to help her people. She responds by risking her life and approaching the king, who will either favor or kill her. She had no guarantee which would happen. How often do we say “God sure blessed me by putting me in harm’s way!” It takes a strong and mature faith to accept that serving God faithfully does not always mean a happy ending for us, at least not in this life.
Consider John the Baptist. He has been busy preparing the way of the Lord. Through baptism and preaching, he has been proclaiming the arrival of Jesus, whose sandals he humbly declares he is not worthy to untie (Luke 3:16). By preaching an alternative that will turn Roman imperialism upside down, John risks his life every day. He speaks truth to power, especially to Herod Antipas, who is in an adulterous and incestuous relationship with his niece. At the end of today’s passage, John is jailed for speaking too much truth. Jesus tells us “blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake” (Matt 5:11), but do we really embrace that idea? Anemic “feel-good” Christianity teaches us to expect only rewards for strong faith, but Jesus is more honest with us. Persecution is not a sign God is not with us – and it may be the sign we are right where we are supposed to be.
Esther first risks her life, then invites the king to a banquet as part of a slowly unfolding plan. John risks his life and freedom to usher in the incarnation of God’s kingdom. They both teach us success depends on properly laid groundwork. The struggle for peace, justice and truth is slow and sometimes dangerous. When we are unjustly persecuted for righteousness’ sake, we must not give up because God has abandoned us, but persevere because God is depending on us.
Comfort: The groundwork we lay leads to someone else’s deliverance.
Challenge: Think about times you have given up too soon.
Prayer: God of strength, I trust you even when I am persecuted.
Evening readings: Ps 78:40-72
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 119:97-120; Est 6:1-14; Acts 19:1-10; Luke 4:1-13
Monday, September 20, 2010
"If I perish, I perish."
Today's readings: Ps 80; Est 4:4-17; Acts 18:1-11; Luke 1:1-4, 3:1-14
Are heroes born or made? Chapter 4 of Ester tries to get to the heart of the question. Ester’s story does not begin heroically: she is a harem girl who – on the advice of her uncle Mordecai – hides her Jewish heritage and becomes the favored concubine of the king of Persia. He makes her his new queen, but a queen who is little more than a slave herself.
Like many people, Ester’s concerns for the world don’t extend beyond her family. When she learns her uncle Mordecai is outside the castle gate and wearing only a sackcloth (a symbol of grief) she sends him clothes. He refuses them and has messengers explain the king’s chief official is going to kill all the Jews in the empire, and asks Ester to plead with the king on behalf of her people. Ester declines, saying she is as powerless as anyone who approaches the king unbidden.
Ester is saying something we hear and say all the time: “I don’t want to get involved.” Sometimes we know we shouldn’t stick our nose in where it doesn’t belong. Other times we don’t want to deal with the complications and risks that may result. In matters of justice, however, aren’t we called by God to do what we can? Many heroes of the bible were reluctant. Like Ester – and us! – they initially claimed to be powerless or a poor choice.
After Mordecai explains that she is in a (providentially?) unique position to help her people, and that if she refuses her family will perish when someone else steps up, Ester reevaluates her decision. In the end, she agrees to risk her life by approaching the king.
When we are called to become involved in affairs beyond our home or family, do we answer the call, or do we need to be coerced like Ester? When we feel powerless in the face of oppression, we can remember others are equally as powerless – which means we are equally as powerful as anyone else. Prayerful consideration may lead us to the age-old question, “If not me, then who?” Sometimes, even when we don’t feel heroic, God call us to be heroes. If God believes in us, why wouldn’t we?
Comfort: I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me. (Phil 4:13)
Challenge: When you feel powerless about a problem of injustice, consider the possibility that – despite risk – you may be the solution.
Prayer: God of strength, call me to whatever tasks you will.
Evening readings: Ps 77, 19
Are heroes born or made? Chapter 4 of Ester tries to get to the heart of the question. Ester’s story does not begin heroically: she is a harem girl who – on the advice of her uncle Mordecai – hides her Jewish heritage and becomes the favored concubine of the king of Persia. He makes her his new queen, but a queen who is little more than a slave herself.
Like many people, Ester’s concerns for the world don’t extend beyond her family. When she learns her uncle Mordecai is outside the castle gate and wearing only a sackcloth (a symbol of grief) she sends him clothes. He refuses them and has messengers explain the king’s chief official is going to kill all the Jews in the empire, and asks Ester to plead with the king on behalf of her people. Ester declines, saying she is as powerless as anyone who approaches the king unbidden.
Ester is saying something we hear and say all the time: “I don’t want to get involved.” Sometimes we know we shouldn’t stick our nose in where it doesn’t belong. Other times we don’t want to deal with the complications and risks that may result. In matters of justice, however, aren’t we called by God to do what we can? Many heroes of the bible were reluctant. Like Ester – and us! – they initially claimed to be powerless or a poor choice.
After Mordecai explains that she is in a (providentially?) unique position to help her people, and that if she refuses her family will perish when someone else steps up, Ester reevaluates her decision. In the end, she agrees to risk her life by approaching the king.
When we are called to become involved in affairs beyond our home or family, do we answer the call, or do we need to be coerced like Ester? When we feel powerless in the face of oppression, we can remember others are equally as powerless – which means we are equally as powerful as anyone else. Prayerful consideration may lead us to the age-old question, “If not me, then who?” Sometimes, even when we don’t feel heroic, God call us to be heroes. If God believes in us, why wouldn’t we?
Comfort: I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me. (Phil 4:13)
Challenge: When you feel powerless about a problem of injustice, consider the possibility that – despite risk – you may be the solution.
Prayer: God of strength, call me to whatever tasks you will.
Evening readings: Ps 77, 19
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Staying On the Mark(et)
Today's readings: Ps 75, 76; Est 2:5-8, 15-23; Acts 17:16-34; John 12:44-50
Some churches approach evangelization like a marketing campaign, while others consider this tactic crass. Demographic analysis and ad campaigns may not seem spiritual, but they can get butts in the seats. Prayer groups and one-on-one meetings may seem more spiritual, but risk becoming insular activities that impact only existing members. Trite as it may sound, a healthy approach lies somewhere in the middle.
Paul knew a thing or two about marketing. When he spoke to the Athenians, he used familiar phrases from Greek poets and philosophers (Acts 17:28) to support his position. When modern churches try to appear relevant by co-opting the latest trends, they aren’t as far from Paul as we might think. In Paul’s Greece, a person’s choice of philosophy was a social statement as much as a system of thought, so Paul knew to keep his references culturally savvy. He chose to “speak their language.”
Critics of Christian culture – including many Christians – often point to “relevant” marketing efforts as a sign of desperation or insincerity. If Paul is our example of effective evangelism – and if he isn’t, who could be? – such critics might want to temper their judgments. On the other hand, a packed house does not indicate a successful church, at least not by Christ’s standards of success. A large congregation means nothing if its members are not challenged to fully live the Gospel because to do so might negatively impact the collection plate or the head count. Conversely, a small congregation is not by default virtuous or successful, especially if it isn’t reaching out to the greater community.
A successful congregation is one that shares the Good News in ways people can understand and are attracted to, without compromising its message. The primary goal is never numbers-driven. Some churches also run the risk of speaking “Christianese” – insider language which may be meaningful to members, but leaves outsiders feeling excluded. Think what “slain in the spirit” sounds like to a non-Christian. A church should not resemble a club with a secret password. If we follow Paul’s example, we will see that presenting the unexpurgated Gospel message in a sincere but relatable way is the only marketing plan we need.
Comfort: Some of the best evangelism is simple truth, plainly spoken.
Challenge: Check your church’s promotional material for “Christianese.”
Prayer: Compassionate God, teach me to share Christ’s message.
Evening reading: Ps 23, 27
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 93, 96; Est 3:1-4:3; Jam 1:19-27; Matt 6:1-6, 16-18
Some churches approach evangelization like a marketing campaign, while others consider this tactic crass. Demographic analysis and ad campaigns may not seem spiritual, but they can get butts in the seats. Prayer groups and one-on-one meetings may seem more spiritual, but risk becoming insular activities that impact only existing members. Trite as it may sound, a healthy approach lies somewhere in the middle.
Paul knew a thing or two about marketing. When he spoke to the Athenians, he used familiar phrases from Greek poets and philosophers (Acts 17:28) to support his position. When modern churches try to appear relevant by co-opting the latest trends, they aren’t as far from Paul as we might think. In Paul’s Greece, a person’s choice of philosophy was a social statement as much as a system of thought, so Paul knew to keep his references culturally savvy. He chose to “speak their language.”
Critics of Christian culture – including many Christians – often point to “relevant” marketing efforts as a sign of desperation or insincerity. If Paul is our example of effective evangelism – and if he isn’t, who could be? – such critics might want to temper their judgments. On the other hand, a packed house does not indicate a successful church, at least not by Christ’s standards of success. A large congregation means nothing if its members are not challenged to fully live the Gospel because to do so might negatively impact the collection plate or the head count. Conversely, a small congregation is not by default virtuous or successful, especially if it isn’t reaching out to the greater community.
A successful congregation is one that shares the Good News in ways people can understand and are attracted to, without compromising its message. The primary goal is never numbers-driven. Some churches also run the risk of speaking “Christianese” – insider language which may be meaningful to members, but leaves outsiders feeling excluded. Think what “slain in the spirit” sounds like to a non-Christian. A church should not resemble a club with a secret password. If we follow Paul’s example, we will see that presenting the unexpurgated Gospel message in a sincere but relatable way is the only marketing plan we need.
Comfort: Some of the best evangelism is simple truth, plainly spoken.
Challenge: Check your church’s promotional material for “Christianese.”
Prayer: Compassionate God, teach me to share Christ’s message.
Evening reading: Ps 23, 27
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 93, 96; Est 3:1-4:3; Jam 1:19-27; Matt 6:1-6, 16-18
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
That's It?
Today's readings: Ps 61, 62; Job 41:1-11; Acts 16:6-15; John 12:9-19
This is what we’ve been waiting for: the penultimate chapter of the book of Job, wherein God is about to conclude his explanation of all Job’s suffering – and maybe the explanation of all our suffering. He’s told us about the majesty and wonder of creation that he alone is capable of. He’s made it clear we as mortals can never be righteous or wise enough to comprehend all he has seen and done. His final words of wisdom to Job and those present… are thirty-four verses about what may or may not be a super-crocodile. Huh?
That’s it, folks. That’s all the author(s) of Job had to offer. Perhaps, in the end, the subject matter was beyond anyone’s ability to address. Maybe there simply is no good justification for a God who devastates someone’s life to win a bet. Maybe – and this is a conclusion about the book’s portrayal of God, not necessarily our own understanding – God is an all-powerful jerk who couldn’t just say “Sorry, that was a rotten thing to do to you.” No matter what the explanation, we can’t help feeling God just sidestepped the whole issue.
And some of us may be asking, “Did I just waste my time? Why is this book in the Bible anyway?” Well, we haven’t wasted anything. We’ve spent time pondering the human condition. We’ve been appropriately outraged about injustice, and equally outraged by inadequate – even unloving – efforts to explain it away. We have inquired into the nature of God, and found the conveniently packaged answers lacking. In other words, we’ve done what serious Old Testament scholars have done for years: wrestled with our faith. With its lack of a satisfying resolution, Job may seem like the world’s first post-modern piece of literature, but – intentionally or not – it does its job (no pun intended) by leaving us with more questions than answers.
We are always and will always be seeking meaning in our lives. The characters of Eliphaz, Bildad, Zophar, Elihu, Job and even God represent points of view we work through in our search. Like Job, the best answer we get in life may be: “I’m God – you’ll never really understand.” And we’ll keep searching, because the search alone holds meaning.
Comfort: The mystery of God is worth exploring our whole lives.
Challenge: Write your own response to Job’s questions.
Prayer: Compassionate God, thank you for your comfort when I suffer.
Evening reading: Ps 68
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 72, Job 42:1-17; Acts 16:16-24; John 12:20-26
This is what we’ve been waiting for: the penultimate chapter of the book of Job, wherein God is about to conclude his explanation of all Job’s suffering – and maybe the explanation of all our suffering. He’s told us about the majesty and wonder of creation that he alone is capable of. He’s made it clear we as mortals can never be righteous or wise enough to comprehend all he has seen and done. His final words of wisdom to Job and those present… are thirty-four verses about what may or may not be a super-crocodile. Huh?
That’s it, folks. That’s all the author(s) of Job had to offer. Perhaps, in the end, the subject matter was beyond anyone’s ability to address. Maybe there simply is no good justification for a God who devastates someone’s life to win a bet. Maybe – and this is a conclusion about the book’s portrayal of God, not necessarily our own understanding – God is an all-powerful jerk who couldn’t just say “Sorry, that was a rotten thing to do to you.” No matter what the explanation, we can’t help feeling God just sidestepped the whole issue.
And some of us may be asking, “Did I just waste my time? Why is this book in the Bible anyway?” Well, we haven’t wasted anything. We’ve spent time pondering the human condition. We’ve been appropriately outraged about injustice, and equally outraged by inadequate – even unloving – efforts to explain it away. We have inquired into the nature of God, and found the conveniently packaged answers lacking. In other words, we’ve done what serious Old Testament scholars have done for years: wrestled with our faith. With its lack of a satisfying resolution, Job may seem like the world’s first post-modern piece of literature, but – intentionally or not – it does its job (no pun intended) by leaving us with more questions than answers.
We are always and will always be seeking meaning in our lives. The characters of Eliphaz, Bildad, Zophar, Elihu, Job and even God represent points of view we work through in our search. Like Job, the best answer we get in life may be: “I’m God – you’ll never really understand.” And we’ll keep searching, because the search alone holds meaning.
Comfort: The mystery of God is worth exploring our whole lives.
Challenge: Write your own response to Job’s questions.
Prayer: Compassionate God, thank you for your comfort when I suffer.
Evening reading: Ps 68
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 72, Job 42:1-17; Acts 16:16-24; John 12:20-26
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Concerning Anger
Today's readings: Ps 24, 29; Job 38:18-41; Rev 18:1-8; Matt 5:21-26
Jesus had some strong teachings about anger. In the Sermon on the Mount, he introduces the topic of anger by way of murder. He says not only will murderers be judged, but so will those who are angry (Matt 5:21-22). Jesus consistently teaches us that sticking to the letter of the law is useless if our hearts are corrupt. Anger is a precedent to many terrible actions (up to and including murder), so holding on to anger corrupts our hearts. Jesus tells us we shouldn’t even make an offering if a brother or sister has something against us, but should instead set aside the offering until we can make things right (vv. 23-24). God desires a contrite and loving heart above any sacrifice.
Jesus is hardly the first prophet to remind the Jewish people that sacrifice without mercy is offensive to God. Prophets like Isaiah and Micah state this explicitly, and the idea is present in many Psalms. Psalm 24 describes people who are allowed to enter God’s temple, and it lists their moral (rather than ceremonial) qualities: clean hands, pure hearts, truthful souls, and truthful lips (Ps 24:4-5). A pure heart is not an angry heart.
Are we never allowed to feel anger? Of course we are. God would not make such an impossible demand of us. Denying anger is actually dangerous; we can’t deal with what we don’t admit, and what we don’t admit finds other, harmful ways to express itself. Jesus and the prophets expect us to deal with our anger in a constructive, loving way that does not damage the community. By saying we need to make things right, Jesus acknowledges that we will indeed feel anger, and at the same time teaches us we are responsible to do something about it.
While anger may be an unavoidable part of the human experience, it is not unbeatable. We have a choice about whether we allow anger to set in our hearts like concrete, or crumble through our fingers like sand. God knows we can be tempted to use anger to deflect other, more painful emotions, but this is not a healthy option. Anger, like all emotions, can be a useful tool. Usually it tells us something needs to change. We must learn to recognize when that something is us.
Comfort: God wants us all to have peaceful, loving hearts.
Challenge: The next time you are angry, ask yourself what needs to change.
Prayer: God of rest, help me lay down my burden of anger.
Evening reading: Ps 8, 84
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 56, 57, 58; Job 40:1-24; Acts 15:36-16:5; John 11:55-12:8
Jesus had some strong teachings about anger. In the Sermon on the Mount, he introduces the topic of anger by way of murder. He says not only will murderers be judged, but so will those who are angry (Matt 5:21-22). Jesus consistently teaches us that sticking to the letter of the law is useless if our hearts are corrupt. Anger is a precedent to many terrible actions (up to and including murder), so holding on to anger corrupts our hearts. Jesus tells us we shouldn’t even make an offering if a brother or sister has something against us, but should instead set aside the offering until we can make things right (vv. 23-24). God desires a contrite and loving heart above any sacrifice.
Jesus is hardly the first prophet to remind the Jewish people that sacrifice without mercy is offensive to God. Prophets like Isaiah and Micah state this explicitly, and the idea is present in many Psalms. Psalm 24 describes people who are allowed to enter God’s temple, and it lists their moral (rather than ceremonial) qualities: clean hands, pure hearts, truthful souls, and truthful lips (Ps 24:4-5). A pure heart is not an angry heart.
Are we never allowed to feel anger? Of course we are. God would not make such an impossible demand of us. Denying anger is actually dangerous; we can’t deal with what we don’t admit, and what we don’t admit finds other, harmful ways to express itself. Jesus and the prophets expect us to deal with our anger in a constructive, loving way that does not damage the community. By saying we need to make things right, Jesus acknowledges that we will indeed feel anger, and at the same time teaches us we are responsible to do something about it.
While anger may be an unavoidable part of the human experience, it is not unbeatable. We have a choice about whether we allow anger to set in our hearts like concrete, or crumble through our fingers like sand. God knows we can be tempted to use anger to deflect other, more painful emotions, but this is not a healthy option. Anger, like all emotions, can be a useful tool. Usually it tells us something needs to change. We must learn to recognize when that something is us.
Comfort: God wants us all to have peaceful, loving hearts.
Challenge: The next time you are angry, ask yourself what needs to change.
Prayer: God of rest, help me lay down my burden of anger.
Evening reading: Ps 8, 84
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 56, 57, 58; Job 40:1-24; Acts 15:36-16:5; John 11:55-12:8
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Prepare a Feast
Today's readings: Ps 63, 98; Job 25:1-6, 27:1-6; Rev 14:1-7, 13; Matt 5:13-20
Food is a common metaphor throughout the Bible. In Matt 5:13 Jesus (the bread of life!) compares his followers to the salt of the earth. The Eucharist is a physical manifestation of God as essential to life. Psalm 63 compares the satisfaction of a healthy prayer life with that of a rich feast (v 5). What else might prayer and food have in common? For starters, neither is consistently healthy without preparation.
It’s a rare shopper who can go to the grocery store without some kind of list and return home with the ingredients for a week of nutritious eating. Are we as intentional about building our prayer lives as we should be about our meals? Or do we cram our spiritual practices into an already tight schedule, settling for a fast food faith and a weekly dinner with the family? As much as we might like it to be otherwise, eating one healthy meal a week doesn’t make up for six days of burgers and fries, and a prayerful hour each Sunday doesn’t prepare us for the hundred and sixty-seven in between. Snacks are gratifying, but we can’t really live on them.
Just as common wisdom tells us shopping while hungry leads to rash choices, neither should we wait until we are spiritually famished – by crisis, doubt, or despair – to turn to prayer. A steady diet of daily prayer will help keep us spiritually fit, and more capable of handling difficult situations. When our pantry is properly stocked, we can even provide a meal for others when the need arises.
Sometimes prayer (or other spiritual disciplines) may seem like eating broccoli: we do it, but in the back of our minds we’re longing for the sugary rush of praise songs and other uplifting experiences. Any mother will tell you filling up on the sweet stuff ruins your appetite for good food, and makes you crave more empty calories. We need to engage in activities that build spiritual muscle, rather than fill us with temporary good feelings. Wise people cultivate a taste for what sustains them for the long haul, and realize some tastes have to be acquired through self-discipline. A properly prepared spiritual life is both tasty and well-balanced.
Comfort: The cup of grace goes with any meal.
Challenge: Plan for spiritual practices by adding them to your daily calendar, just like any other appointment, meeting or to-do item.
Prayer: God of life, thank you for providing all that sustains me.
Evening reading: Ps 103
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 41, 52; Job 32:1-10, 19, 33:1, 19-28; Acts 13:44-52; John 10:19-30
Food is a common metaphor throughout the Bible. In Matt 5:13 Jesus (the bread of life!) compares his followers to the salt of the earth. The Eucharist is a physical manifestation of God as essential to life. Psalm 63 compares the satisfaction of a healthy prayer life with that of a rich feast (v 5). What else might prayer and food have in common? For starters, neither is consistently healthy without preparation.
It’s a rare shopper who can go to the grocery store without some kind of list and return home with the ingredients for a week of nutritious eating. Are we as intentional about building our prayer lives as we should be about our meals? Or do we cram our spiritual practices into an already tight schedule, settling for a fast food faith and a weekly dinner with the family? As much as we might like it to be otherwise, eating one healthy meal a week doesn’t make up for six days of burgers and fries, and a prayerful hour each Sunday doesn’t prepare us for the hundred and sixty-seven in between. Snacks are gratifying, but we can’t really live on them.
Just as common wisdom tells us shopping while hungry leads to rash choices, neither should we wait until we are spiritually famished – by crisis, doubt, or despair – to turn to prayer. A steady diet of daily prayer will help keep us spiritually fit, and more capable of handling difficult situations. When our pantry is properly stocked, we can even provide a meal for others when the need arises.
Sometimes prayer (or other spiritual disciplines) may seem like eating broccoli: we do it, but in the back of our minds we’re longing for the sugary rush of praise songs and other uplifting experiences. Any mother will tell you filling up on the sweet stuff ruins your appetite for good food, and makes you crave more empty calories. We need to engage in activities that build spiritual muscle, rather than fill us with temporary good feelings. Wise people cultivate a taste for what sustains them for the long haul, and realize some tastes have to be acquired through self-discipline. A properly prepared spiritual life is both tasty and well-balanced.
Comfort: The cup of grace goes with any meal.
Challenge: Plan for spiritual practices by adding them to your daily calendar, just like any other appointment, meeting or to-do item.
Prayer: God of life, thank you for providing all that sustains me.
Evening reading: Ps 103
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 41, 52; Job 32:1-10, 19, 33:1, 19-28; Acts 13:44-52; John 10:19-30
Thursday, September 2, 2010
The Doctrine of Mercy
Today's readings: Ps 37:1-18; Job 16:16-22, 17:1, 13-16; Acts 13:1-12; John 9:1-17
Once there was a devout man who wanted very much to follow Christ. Every Sunday he arrived early for worship, closed his eyes and prayed for a heart full of mercy. One week a family with a four-year-old girl began sitting near him in church. The little girl had never been to church before, and asked many questions in a not very quiet voice. After several weeks the man asked his pastor to talk to the family: the girl was interrupting his prayers to be more patient and forgiving.
The confrontation between Jesus and the Pharisees over his healing of a blind man on the Sabbath is essentially a story of the same age-old conflict in the faith community. Jesus was constantly on the move. If he had observed the letter of the Sabbath law, the opportunity to heal the blind man would have passed. Given a choice between mercy and doctrine, Jesus chose mercy. Reaction from the Pharisees was confused: on one hand he’d broken the prohibition against work by kneading spit and mud together, but on the other – how could anyone not from God have performed such a sign? They launched an investigation.
Two thousand years of Christian perspective help us discern the misguided actions of the praying man and the Pharisees. Are we as perceptive about our own lives? Does our sense of propriety ever preempt an attitude of mercy? To some degree, we all rely on a framework of religious, cultural and/or self-imposed doctrine to structure our understanding of the world. Otherwise we’d spend an inordinate amount of time rebuilding that understanding in response to every new situation and piece of information. For example, most of us know whether or not cursing is acceptable in a given social situation without thinking too hard about it. One Sunday minister Tony Campolo told a congregation thousands of children died of starvation every day and nobody seemed to “give a sh*t.” He correctly noted more people were upset by his word choice than the number of starving children. If he got the attention of anyone who then helped a single hungry child, did social doctrine matter? If on Monday morning we are dwelling on the foul-mouthed minister and not the starving children, it’s time to re-examine our hearts.
Comfort: We choose mercy because God chooses mercy.
Challenge: Make a list of doctrines/rules that guide your behaviors.
Prayer: God of life, create in me a heart that is more than a rulebook.
Evening readings: Ps 37:19-42
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 31; Job 19:1-7, 14-27; Acts 13:13-25; John 9:18-41
Once there was a devout man who wanted very much to follow Christ. Every Sunday he arrived early for worship, closed his eyes and prayed for a heart full of mercy. One week a family with a four-year-old girl began sitting near him in church. The little girl had never been to church before, and asked many questions in a not very quiet voice. After several weeks the man asked his pastor to talk to the family: the girl was interrupting his prayers to be more patient and forgiving.
The confrontation between Jesus and the Pharisees over his healing of a blind man on the Sabbath is essentially a story of the same age-old conflict in the faith community. Jesus was constantly on the move. If he had observed the letter of the Sabbath law, the opportunity to heal the blind man would have passed. Given a choice between mercy and doctrine, Jesus chose mercy. Reaction from the Pharisees was confused: on one hand he’d broken the prohibition against work by kneading spit and mud together, but on the other – how could anyone not from God have performed such a sign? They launched an investigation.
Two thousand years of Christian perspective help us discern the misguided actions of the praying man and the Pharisees. Are we as perceptive about our own lives? Does our sense of propriety ever preempt an attitude of mercy? To some degree, we all rely on a framework of religious, cultural and/or self-imposed doctrine to structure our understanding of the world. Otherwise we’d spend an inordinate amount of time rebuilding that understanding in response to every new situation and piece of information. For example, most of us know whether or not cursing is acceptable in a given social situation without thinking too hard about it. One Sunday minister Tony Campolo told a congregation thousands of children died of starvation every day and nobody seemed to “give a sh*t.” He correctly noted more people were upset by his word choice than the number of starving children. If he got the attention of anyone who then helped a single hungry child, did social doctrine matter? If on Monday morning we are dwelling on the foul-mouthed minister and not the starving children, it’s time to re-examine our hearts.
Comfort: We choose mercy because God chooses mercy.
Challenge: Make a list of doctrines/rules that guide your behaviors.
Prayer: God of life, create in me a heart that is more than a rulebook.
Evening readings: Ps 37:19-42
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 31; Job 19:1-7, 14-27; Acts 13:13-25; John 9:18-41
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Where to Look?
Today's readings: Ps 38; Job 14:1-22; Acts 12:18-25; John 8:47-59
In the musical Fiddler on the Roof, the lead character Tevye is the head of a Jewish family living in Russia during the pogroms. Reflecting upon the suffering of God’s chosen people, he only half-jokingly asks God, “Couldn’t you choose someone else for a while?” Job, reflecting on his own suffering, asks God to look away from short-lived mortals (v 6) – that is, to focus attention on someone or something else for a while – so Job can get some peace. Like Job and Tevye, we can sometimes feel like God is asking more of us than our fair share.
If, as the psalmists claim again and again, the way of the Lord leads to delight, why can it seem burdensome? Partly because it really isn’t fair, not in the worldly sense of balanced shares of reward and responsibility. Doing right in the eyes of God often means assuming burdens others have neglected. More than we’d like, our efforts not only go unappreciated, they are resented. We can grow discouraged and resentful ourselves. Where do we look for happiness in such situations? We can change focus from expectations of others to expectations of ourselves. We can’t count on satisfaction derived from other people because we can’t control how they act or feel. The satisfaction we can count on is what we get from knowing our own actions are just and loving.
As Job protests suffering he perceives as inflicted by God, we must remember the book is a poetic reflection on the philosophy of suffering, not a historic document. In our own lives loss and illness raise entirely differently questions of faith and fairness, but they are not inflicted by God. Nevertheless, the idea that living in the presence of God can be stressful is valid. What are we to make of Jesus’s words, “My yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matt 11:30)? If our expectations are set by the world, these words will not seem true to us. But in the “upside-down” truth of God’s realm, the unfairness of the world does not weigh us down even as we resist it. Our burden grows lighter as we learn justice and mercy are not what we collect, but what we give away.
Comfort: God does not seek to inflict burdens, but to ease them.
Challenge: Ask yourself if there is a burden in your life you need to look at from a different perspective.
Prayer: God of life, teach me to be content no matter my burden.
Evening readings: Ps 119:25-48
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 37:1-18; Job 16:16-22, 17:1, 13-16; Acts 13:1-12; John 9:1-17
In the musical Fiddler on the Roof, the lead character Tevye is the head of a Jewish family living in Russia during the pogroms. Reflecting upon the suffering of God’s chosen people, he only half-jokingly asks God, “Couldn’t you choose someone else for a while?” Job, reflecting on his own suffering, asks God to look away from short-lived mortals (v 6) – that is, to focus attention on someone or something else for a while – so Job can get some peace. Like Job and Tevye, we can sometimes feel like God is asking more of us than our fair share.
If, as the psalmists claim again and again, the way of the Lord leads to delight, why can it seem burdensome? Partly because it really isn’t fair, not in the worldly sense of balanced shares of reward and responsibility. Doing right in the eyes of God often means assuming burdens others have neglected. More than we’d like, our efforts not only go unappreciated, they are resented. We can grow discouraged and resentful ourselves. Where do we look for happiness in such situations? We can change focus from expectations of others to expectations of ourselves. We can’t count on satisfaction derived from other people because we can’t control how they act or feel. The satisfaction we can count on is what we get from knowing our own actions are just and loving.
As Job protests suffering he perceives as inflicted by God, we must remember the book is a poetic reflection on the philosophy of suffering, not a historic document. In our own lives loss and illness raise entirely differently questions of faith and fairness, but they are not inflicted by God. Nevertheless, the idea that living in the presence of God can be stressful is valid. What are we to make of Jesus’s words, “My yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matt 11:30)? If our expectations are set by the world, these words will not seem true to us. But in the “upside-down” truth of God’s realm, the unfairness of the world does not weigh us down even as we resist it. Our burden grows lighter as we learn justice and mercy are not what we collect, but what we give away.
Comfort: God does not seek to inflict burdens, but to ease them.
Challenge: Ask yourself if there is a burden in your life you need to look at from a different perspective.
Prayer: God of life, teach me to be content no matter my burden.
Evening readings: Ps 119:25-48
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 37:1-18; Job 16:16-22, 17:1, 13-16; Acts 13:1-12; John 9:1-17
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
The Impatience of Job
Today's readings: Ps 26, 28; Job 13:1-17, 21-27; Acts 12:1-17; John 8:33-47
Have you ever heard someone described as having “the patience of Job?” Where do we suppose that came from? Job is not at all patient. He rails against his miserable condition and demands answers from God. He rebukes his friends’ attempts to explain his situation by declaring “What you know, I also know. I am not inferior to you” (v 2). He, God and we readers all know he hasn’t done anything to merit such punishment. Patience may be a virtue, but lazy thinking and theology is not.
Lots of people – televangelists, authors, ministers – make their livings by telling other people what God is all about. Even more people – people like Job’s friends – offer the same service for free. Members of both groups often have the same problem as Job’s friend Zophar: they parrot answers that don’t fit our experience of the world. Jesus taught us about God mostly through parables and questions. We should be wary of any spiritual leaders who offer pat answers, especially when they lean more toward legalism than grace.
We should trust our instincts about God. This doesn’t mean we should create an image of God from scratch, or that we shouldn’t question, modify, and grow in our beliefs as warranted. It doesn’t mean God must want us to do and be exactly what we already are. It does mean when someone, even someone in authority, claims to know something about God, we should test that claim against our own truths. 1 Thessalonians 5:21 tell us “Test everything. Hold on to the good.”
By the same token, neglected instincts can grow dull. We have an ongoing responsibility to educate ourselves and critically evaluate what we learn and experience in matters of God and faith. We can’t say “I am not inferior” in these matters if we haven’t done the work, but any one of us is as capable of a deep relationship with God as anyone else. Keeping our own instincts sharp will help us determine whether someone is speaking the truth, or speaking eloquently and confidently – but falsely.
Comfort: God is more trustworthy than our words and ideas about God.
Challenge: Meet regularly with a group of friends to discuss what you have learned (and unlearned!) about god.
Prayer: God of life, thank you for the mind you have given me.
Evening readings: Ps 36, 39
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 38; Job 14:1-22; Acts 12:18-25; John 8:47-59
Have you ever heard someone described as having “the patience of Job?” Where do we suppose that came from? Job is not at all patient. He rails against his miserable condition and demands answers from God. He rebukes his friends’ attempts to explain his situation by declaring “What you know, I also know. I am not inferior to you” (v 2). He, God and we readers all know he hasn’t done anything to merit such punishment. Patience may be a virtue, but lazy thinking and theology is not.
Lots of people – televangelists, authors, ministers – make their livings by telling other people what God is all about. Even more people – people like Job’s friends – offer the same service for free. Members of both groups often have the same problem as Job’s friend Zophar: they parrot answers that don’t fit our experience of the world. Jesus taught us about God mostly through parables and questions. We should be wary of any spiritual leaders who offer pat answers, especially when they lean more toward legalism than grace.
We should trust our instincts about God. This doesn’t mean we should create an image of God from scratch, or that we shouldn’t question, modify, and grow in our beliefs as warranted. It doesn’t mean God must want us to do and be exactly what we already are. It does mean when someone, even someone in authority, claims to know something about God, we should test that claim against our own truths. 1 Thessalonians 5:21 tell us “Test everything. Hold on to the good.”
By the same token, neglected instincts can grow dull. We have an ongoing responsibility to educate ourselves and critically evaluate what we learn and experience in matters of God and faith. We can’t say “I am not inferior” in these matters if we haven’t done the work, but any one of us is as capable of a deep relationship with God as anyone else. Keeping our own instincts sharp will help us determine whether someone is speaking the truth, or speaking eloquently and confidently – but falsely.
Comfort: God is more trustworthy than our words and ideas about God.
Challenge: Meet regularly with a group of friends to discuss what you have learned (and unlearned!) about god.
Prayer: God of life, thank you for the mind you have given me.
Evening readings: Ps 36, 39
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 38; Job 14:1-22; Acts 12:18-25; John 8:47-59
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Blessed are those...
Today's readings: Ps 148, 149, 150; Job 11:1-9, 13-20; Rev 5:1-14; Matt 5:1-12
Today’s passage from Matthew is commonly called The Beatitudes. The word “beatitude” means supreme blessedness or happiness. Jesus is describing the blessings God has in store for those who are oppressed yet living in faithfulness.
The words of The Beatitudes are famous well beyond Christian circles. “Blessed are the meek” (v 5) and “Blessed are the peacemakers” (v 9) would be clichés if they weren’t still radical statements. The Beatitudes describe a world where an oppressive imperial society (Roman or otherwise) is turned upside down by God’s love. For those enjoying power in any age, they are a threatening idea.
Critics of Christianity can use texts like The Beatitudes to paint Christians as passive and long-suffering. The meek, the mournful, the poor, and the hungry – not anyone most of us would aspire to be. Even the merciful, the pure in heart, and the peacemakers can be caricatured as mere do-gooders or pacifiers.
The truth is, each of these states represents an active engagement in the world and a refusal to accept less than the fullness of God. Mourning is not mere sadness, but grappling with a world steeped in pain. Meekness is a choice of community over self. Peacemaking is a dangerous profession – ask any police officer called to a domestic dispute. No wonder Jesus warns us those who benefit from the status quo or flat out fear change will revile and persecute and slander the faithful (v 11). We represent the upset of an unjust way of life.
The beatitudes spell out how we are to be in the world but not of it. We are not called to suffer for suffering’s sake, but may be called to do so when life in the kingdom of God clashes with the expectations of the world. How such persecution can be a blessing is a mystery, but no more a mystery than how the world can turn a deaf ear to God’s call to justice and love. Which of these mysteries do we want to live in?
Comfort: God blesses us always.
Challenge: Over the next week, pray The Beatitudes once a day.
Prayer: God of truth, I will trust you always.
Evening readings: Ps 114, 115
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 25, Job 12:1-6, 13-25; Acts 11:19-30; John 8:21-32
Today’s passage from Matthew is commonly called The Beatitudes. The word “beatitude” means supreme blessedness or happiness. Jesus is describing the blessings God has in store for those who are oppressed yet living in faithfulness.
The words of The Beatitudes are famous well beyond Christian circles. “Blessed are the meek” (v 5) and “Blessed are the peacemakers” (v 9) would be clichés if they weren’t still radical statements. The Beatitudes describe a world where an oppressive imperial society (Roman or otherwise) is turned upside down by God’s love. For those enjoying power in any age, they are a threatening idea.
Critics of Christianity can use texts like The Beatitudes to paint Christians as passive and long-suffering. The meek, the mournful, the poor, and the hungry – not anyone most of us would aspire to be. Even the merciful, the pure in heart, and the peacemakers can be caricatured as mere do-gooders or pacifiers.
The truth is, each of these states represents an active engagement in the world and a refusal to accept less than the fullness of God. Mourning is not mere sadness, but grappling with a world steeped in pain. Meekness is a choice of community over self. Peacemaking is a dangerous profession – ask any police officer called to a domestic dispute. No wonder Jesus warns us those who benefit from the status quo or flat out fear change will revile and persecute and slander the faithful (v 11). We represent the upset of an unjust way of life.
The beatitudes spell out how we are to be in the world but not of it. We are not called to suffer for suffering’s sake, but may be called to do so when life in the kingdom of God clashes with the expectations of the world. How such persecution can be a blessing is a mystery, but no more a mystery than how the world can turn a deaf ear to God’s call to justice and love. Which of these mysteries do we want to live in?
Comfort: God blesses us always.
Challenge: Over the next week, pray The Beatitudes once a day.
Prayer: God of truth, I will trust you always.
Evening readings: Ps 114, 115
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 25, Job 12:1-6, 13-25; Acts 11:19-30; John 8:21-32
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Holy Arguments
Today's readings: Ps 20, 21; Job 10:1-9, 16-22; Acts 11:1-18; John 8:12-20
I kept my faith, even when I said, “I am greatly afflicted”
- Psalm 116:10 (from this evening’s readings)
On Wednesday we considered the importance of being silent and listening for God. True spiritual silence is an achievement that doesn’t always come easily, especially when we are upset. Sometimes we first need to clear our heads by venting our anger and negativity. Even anger at God needs to be expressed. The psalmist knew this, and Job knew it when he said “I will give free utterance to my complaint” (Job 10:1).
Job accuses God of setting him up with a great life so his fall will be even harder. Do we ever feel like God has set us up to fail? Or like God is testing us? A popular cliché says “God never gives you more than you can handle.” Job would certainly seem to disagree. With its framing narrative of a wager between God and Ha’Satan, the Book of Job can easily be misunderstood to promote the theology of a God who is constantly testing us, a God who virtually hunts us, “bold as a lion” (v 16). Rather, it is a poetic exploration of our relationship with God and suffering. At one time or another we all feel we’ve been treated unfairly by life or God, and Job says the things we think at those times.
Arguing with God has a long tradition among the faithful. Jacob/Israel literally wrestled with God, and a nation was named for him. Every year during the Jewish High Holy Days from Rosh Hashanah (sometimes called Jewish New Year) to Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement), people of great faith are held accountable for their actions during the year – and they also hold God accountable. Only by speaking the truths held most deeply in our hearts can we fully express our faithfulness. God already knows what is in our hearts, so doing this is a matter of showing trust in a God loving and great enough to handle whatever we have to dish out.
We tend to think of arguments as negative events, but they are inevitable when we are building any deep relationship. Sometimes an argument is a sign that a relationship is worth fighting for.
Comfort: God accepts our whole hearts, not just the happy parts.
Challenge: Find and read some articles on having healthy arguments.
Prayer: God of truth, I open my whole heart to you.
Evening readings: Ps 110, 116, 117
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 148, 149, 150; Job 11:1-9, 13-20; Rev 5:1-14; Matt 5;1-12
I kept my faith, even when I said, “I am greatly afflicted”
- Psalm 116:10 (from this evening’s readings)
On Wednesday we considered the importance of being silent and listening for God. True spiritual silence is an achievement that doesn’t always come easily, especially when we are upset. Sometimes we first need to clear our heads by venting our anger and negativity. Even anger at God needs to be expressed. The psalmist knew this, and Job knew it when he said “I will give free utterance to my complaint” (Job 10:1).
Job accuses God of setting him up with a great life so his fall will be even harder. Do we ever feel like God has set us up to fail? Or like God is testing us? A popular cliché says “God never gives you more than you can handle.” Job would certainly seem to disagree. With its framing narrative of a wager between God and Ha’Satan, the Book of Job can easily be misunderstood to promote the theology of a God who is constantly testing us, a God who virtually hunts us, “bold as a lion” (v 16). Rather, it is a poetic exploration of our relationship with God and suffering. At one time or another we all feel we’ve been treated unfairly by life or God, and Job says the things we think at those times.
Arguing with God has a long tradition among the faithful. Jacob/Israel literally wrestled with God, and a nation was named for him. Every year during the Jewish High Holy Days from Rosh Hashanah (sometimes called Jewish New Year) to Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement), people of great faith are held accountable for their actions during the year – and they also hold God accountable. Only by speaking the truths held most deeply in our hearts can we fully express our faithfulness. God already knows what is in our hearts, so doing this is a matter of showing trust in a God loving and great enough to handle whatever we have to dish out.
We tend to think of arguments as negative events, but they are inevitable when we are building any deep relationship. Sometimes an argument is a sign that a relationship is worth fighting for.
Comfort: God accepts our whole hearts, not just the happy parts.
Challenge: Find and read some articles on having healthy arguments.
Prayer: God of truth, I open my whole heart to you.
Evening readings: Ps 110, 116, 117
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 148, 149, 150; Job 11:1-9, 13-20; Rev 5:1-14; Matt 5;1-12
Friday, August 27, 2010
Astounding Gifts
Today's readings: Ps 16, 17; Job 9:1-15, 32-35; Acts 10:34-48; John 7:37-52
“The circumcised believers who had come with Peter were astounded that the gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured out even on the Gentiles.” (Acts 10:45)
This verse points out the difference between accepting someone superficially and truly including them, a distinction sometimes lost on even the most well-meaning individuals. While sitting at a table with Gentiles was a major step for the Jewish Christians, this sentence tells us they were not yet accepting the Gentiles as equals. Not until the Spirit poured out gifts upon the Gentiles did the Jews recognize they were deserving of the same baptism.
How long do we wait until we truly include new people in our community, church or life? We almost always let them in the door, and can see them as additional help for the bake sales and nursery duty, but when do we stop thinking of them as the “new” people? Do we wait until they somehow earn our approval, like the apostles did, or do we start treating them as equal members of the body of Christ ASAP? Each person brings their own astounding gifts, so it is to our benefit to truly integrate them as lovingly and efficiently as possible. Beyond that, it is simply the Christian thing to do.
On the other hand, sometimes we withhold our own gifts until we are confident a community has fully embraced us. While it’s natural to be cautious when entering a new group, being too reserved slows down the process of acceptance and inclusion. We should work to be aware of our own gifts, because life in a Christian community is a two- (and twenty- and two hundred-) way street. We are to use our gifts to support a community as much as the community is to support us.
We all have gifts to offer. Sometimes we don’t even know what they are until we are called upon to try something new. As part of a community, we should always be eager to offer and accept each other’s gifts.
Comfort: As Christians we are truly accepted and truly accepting.
Challenge: Look for opportunities to share your gifts. Don’t be shy.
Prayer: God of truth, thank you for revealing the gifts of your people.
Evening readings: Ps 22
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 20, 21; Job 10:1-9, 16-22; Acts 11:1-18; John 8:12-20
“The circumcised believers who had come with Peter were astounded that the gift of the Holy Spirit had been poured out even on the Gentiles.” (Acts 10:45)
This verse points out the difference between accepting someone superficially and truly including them, a distinction sometimes lost on even the most well-meaning individuals. While sitting at a table with Gentiles was a major step for the Jewish Christians, this sentence tells us they were not yet accepting the Gentiles as equals. Not until the Spirit poured out gifts upon the Gentiles did the Jews recognize they were deserving of the same baptism.
How long do we wait until we truly include new people in our community, church or life? We almost always let them in the door, and can see them as additional help for the bake sales and nursery duty, but when do we stop thinking of them as the “new” people? Do we wait until they somehow earn our approval, like the apostles did, or do we start treating them as equal members of the body of Christ ASAP? Each person brings their own astounding gifts, so it is to our benefit to truly integrate them as lovingly and efficiently as possible. Beyond that, it is simply the Christian thing to do.
On the other hand, sometimes we withhold our own gifts until we are confident a community has fully embraced us. While it’s natural to be cautious when entering a new group, being too reserved slows down the process of acceptance and inclusion. We should work to be aware of our own gifts, because life in a Christian community is a two- (and twenty- and two hundred-) way street. We are to use our gifts to support a community as much as the community is to support us.
We all have gifts to offer. Sometimes we don’t even know what they are until we are called upon to try something new. As part of a community, we should always be eager to offer and accept each other’s gifts.
Comfort: As Christians we are truly accepted and truly accepting.
Challenge: Look for opportunities to share your gifts. Don’t be shy.
Prayer: God of truth, thank you for revealing the gifts of your people.
Evening readings: Ps 22
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 20, 21; Job 10:1-9, 16-22; Acts 11:1-18; John 8:12-20
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Enjoy the Silence
Today's readings: Ps 119:1-24; Job 7:1-21; Acts 10:1-16; John 7:1-13
Last week we considered the importance of simply listening to people in need. What about the times when we are the people in need? During those times, we still need to listen - for God. This might sound like a simple idea, but our brains are usually so busy that listening for God can sometimes be tougher than listening to people. Today’s readings from Job and Acts demonstrate the importance of learning to listen.
Even if you’ve never read Job before, by now you realize it is full of conversation – if you define conversation as one speech following another. The speeches not only serve the purpose of the book by commenting on different philosophies of suffering and justice, they also represent a common impediment to listening to God (or anyone else): thinking of what we want to say next when we should be listening. This is a poor enough habit when conversing with people, let alone with God. Sometimes we just need to close our mouths and open our ears and minds. If we never allow some physical and spiritual silence, how can we hear anything?
At other times, we can simply be thick-headed. When Peter meets Cornelius – the first Gentile convert – he is unsure of how to proceed. So far the biggest difference between Christians is that some of them are Hellenist Jews (Greek in speech and culture) while most are not. A Gentile who has never followed Jewish customs introduces a host of potential conflicts, including dietary practices. God sends Peter a vision to let him know all foods can now be considered clean. God sends this vision three times yet Peter remains puzzled by it. Still, Peter acts wisely by asking God to repeat the vision, rather than giving up after the first try. When God’s answers seem slow or confusing, like Peter we should make the effort to work it out rather than abandon the conversation.
Reporter Dan Rather once asked Mother Theresa what she said when she prayed. She replied, “I don’t say anything; I listen.” Mr. Rather asked what God said while prayed. She replied God said nothing. “God listens,” she said, “and if you don’t understand that I can’t explain it to you.” True listening is a mystery in which great truths can be revealed.
Comfort: God always listens.
Challenge: Read about the practice of lectio divina.
Prayer: God of truth, I will meet you in the silence.
Evening readings: Ps 12, 13, 14
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 18:1-20; Job 8:1-7, 11-19; Acts 10:17-33; John 7:14-36
Last week we considered the importance of simply listening to people in need. What about the times when we are the people in need? During those times, we still need to listen - for God. This might sound like a simple idea, but our brains are usually so busy that listening for God can sometimes be tougher than listening to people. Today’s readings from Job and Acts demonstrate the importance of learning to listen.
Even if you’ve never read Job before, by now you realize it is full of conversation – if you define conversation as one speech following another. The speeches not only serve the purpose of the book by commenting on different philosophies of suffering and justice, they also represent a common impediment to listening to God (or anyone else): thinking of what we want to say next when we should be listening. This is a poor enough habit when conversing with people, let alone with God. Sometimes we just need to close our mouths and open our ears and minds. If we never allow some physical and spiritual silence, how can we hear anything?
At other times, we can simply be thick-headed. When Peter meets Cornelius – the first Gentile convert – he is unsure of how to proceed. So far the biggest difference between Christians is that some of them are Hellenist Jews (Greek in speech and culture) while most are not. A Gentile who has never followed Jewish customs introduces a host of potential conflicts, including dietary practices. God sends Peter a vision to let him know all foods can now be considered clean. God sends this vision three times yet Peter remains puzzled by it. Still, Peter acts wisely by asking God to repeat the vision, rather than giving up after the first try. When God’s answers seem slow or confusing, like Peter we should make the effort to work it out rather than abandon the conversation.
Reporter Dan Rather once asked Mother Theresa what she said when she prayed. She replied, “I don’t say anything; I listen.” Mr. Rather asked what God said while prayed. She replied God said nothing. “God listens,” she said, “and if you don’t understand that I can’t explain it to you.” True listening is a mystery in which great truths can be revealed.
Comfort: God always listens.
Challenge: Read about the practice of lectio divina.
Prayer: God of truth, I will meet you in the silence.
Evening readings: Ps 12, 13, 14
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 18:1-20; Job 8:1-7, 11-19; Acts 10:17-33; John 7:14-36
Monday, August 23, 2010
If Paul could do it...
Today's readings: Ps 1, 2, 3; Job 5:1-11, 17-21, 26-27; Acts 9:19b-31; John 6:52-59
Real change is difficult. Even after we’ve worked up the proper inner motivation to make a positive change, we must struggle with a world inclined to keep us as we were. If we leave behind bad habits, friends who shared those habits with us may try to drag us back to our old ways for any number of reasons. If we’ve repeatedly promised change only to let down our friends and family, they may view new declarations of change with understandable suspicion. Real change can’t depend on how other people perceive us, but on how we perceive ourselves.
Prior to his conversion, Paul was a Pharisee infamous for his ruthless persecution of Christians on behalf of the Jerusalem Temple. When he started to preach in Jesus’ name, people who knew him were “amazed” (Acts 9:21) at his radical change. Those in Jerusalem who did not doubt his sincerity attempted to kill him. On the other hand, when he joined the disciples “they were all afraid of him, for they did not believe that he was a disciple” (v. 26). Many of them had been evading him for some time, and only the testimony of Barnabas on Paul’s behalf swayed them.
Paul’s old friends wanted him to stay the same, and the people he hoped would become his new friends weren’t ready to accept him. Despite the attitudes around him, Paul persevered because God had changed his heart. To a lesser degree, we may experience the same thing when we make a change. For example, if we decide to give up gossip, the friends we used to gossip with will undoubtedly feel snubbed when we decline to participate. Given our history, other people will find it difficult to trust us. The same would be true of addictions, lying, spitefulness or any host of vices. A truly penitent heart will persevere in change whether other people accept the change or not; our relationship with God will sustain us.
We can’t change any mind but our own. When we know we need to make a positive change, we must be prepared to endure and overcome resistance, and not let that resistance discourage us. God doesn’t promise us ease, but to be with us through everything.
Comfort: When we change our hearts, God knows and accepts.
Challenge: Be supportive to someone who is trying to change.
Prayer: God of truth, teach me how I need to change.
Evening readings: Ps 4, 7
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 5, 6; Job 6:1-4, 8-15, 21; Acts 9:32-43; John 6:60-71
Real change is difficult. Even after we’ve worked up the proper inner motivation to make a positive change, we must struggle with a world inclined to keep us as we were. If we leave behind bad habits, friends who shared those habits with us may try to drag us back to our old ways for any number of reasons. If we’ve repeatedly promised change only to let down our friends and family, they may view new declarations of change with understandable suspicion. Real change can’t depend on how other people perceive us, but on how we perceive ourselves.
Prior to his conversion, Paul was a Pharisee infamous for his ruthless persecution of Christians on behalf of the Jerusalem Temple. When he started to preach in Jesus’ name, people who knew him were “amazed” (Acts 9:21) at his radical change. Those in Jerusalem who did not doubt his sincerity attempted to kill him. On the other hand, when he joined the disciples “they were all afraid of him, for they did not believe that he was a disciple” (v. 26). Many of them had been evading him for some time, and only the testimony of Barnabas on Paul’s behalf swayed them.
Paul’s old friends wanted him to stay the same, and the people he hoped would become his new friends weren’t ready to accept him. Despite the attitudes around him, Paul persevered because God had changed his heart. To a lesser degree, we may experience the same thing when we make a change. For example, if we decide to give up gossip, the friends we used to gossip with will undoubtedly feel snubbed when we decline to participate. Given our history, other people will find it difficult to trust us. The same would be true of addictions, lying, spitefulness or any host of vices. A truly penitent heart will persevere in change whether other people accept the change or not; our relationship with God will sustain us.
We can’t change any mind but our own. When we know we need to make a positive change, we must be prepared to endure and overcome resistance, and not let that resistance discourage us. God doesn’t promise us ease, but to be with us through everything.
Comfort: When we change our hearts, God knows and accepts.
Challenge: Be supportive to someone who is trying to change.
Prayer: God of truth, teach me how I need to change.
Evening readings: Ps 4, 7
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 5, 6; Job 6:1-4, 8-15, 21; Acts 9:32-43; John 6:60-71
Saturday, August 21, 2010
A Song of Anger
Today's readings: Ps 137, 144; Job 3:1-26; Acts 9:10-19a; John 6:41-51
Psalm 137 is a difficult text. Its violent images and sentiments arose from a people suffering in oppressive exile. Jewish faith and identity were inseparable from the land delivered to them by God. When the Babylonians forcibly removed them from that land and placed them into slavery, their faith and identity were in unimaginable crisis. When the psalmist asks “How could we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?” (v 4) he is responding to his captors’ demands for the Israelites to perform holy songs as crude entertainment.
Instead, the Israelites compose a song about the revenge they would seek on the Edomites, a people who captured escaped Israelites and sold them to the Babylonians. Of course the Israelites are really using the Edomites as a cover to curse the Babylonians. Used in nursery rhymes, African-American spirituals, and other songs, such coded language is common when a people can’t safely express themselves openly.
Sadly, the description of the Israelites happily dashing the enemy’s infants against the rocks is not code for anything. We may find this image shocking, but an honest look at world news reveals similar atrocities every day. The oppressed becoming the oppressor is an old, old story.
In this psalm – unlike some of the passages in Joshua – God is not commanding cruelty against innocents. The psalmist and his people are turning a degrading demand into a revenge fantasy. Oppressed people need a way to vent their rage, and a song or poem is a safe way to do so. Modern artistic expressions from rap to slam poetry to screamcore often portray violence as a reaction to oppression. We are not required to advocate or agree with a position to understand or consider it.
This psalm warns us about who we may become when oppressed, and what we may reap when we oppress. Let’s take heed.
Comfort: God understands our anger.
Challenge: Compare and contrast the lyrics of “When Will We Be Paid For The Work We’ve Done?” by the Staples Singers to Psalm 137
Prayer: God of renewal, I trust you even with my anger.
Evening readings: Ps 104
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 146, 147; Job 4:1-6, 12-21; Rev 4:1-11; Mark 6:1-6a
Psalm 137 is a difficult text. Its violent images and sentiments arose from a people suffering in oppressive exile. Jewish faith and identity were inseparable from the land delivered to them by God. When the Babylonians forcibly removed them from that land and placed them into slavery, their faith and identity were in unimaginable crisis. When the psalmist asks “How could we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?” (v 4) he is responding to his captors’ demands for the Israelites to perform holy songs as crude entertainment.
Instead, the Israelites compose a song about the revenge they would seek on the Edomites, a people who captured escaped Israelites and sold them to the Babylonians. Of course the Israelites are really using the Edomites as a cover to curse the Babylonians. Used in nursery rhymes, African-American spirituals, and other songs, such coded language is common when a people can’t safely express themselves openly.
Sadly, the description of the Israelites happily dashing the enemy’s infants against the rocks is not code for anything. We may find this image shocking, but an honest look at world news reveals similar atrocities every day. The oppressed becoming the oppressor is an old, old story.
In this psalm – unlike some of the passages in Joshua – God is not commanding cruelty against innocents. The psalmist and his people are turning a degrading demand into a revenge fantasy. Oppressed people need a way to vent their rage, and a song or poem is a safe way to do so. Modern artistic expressions from rap to slam poetry to screamcore often portray violence as a reaction to oppression. We are not required to advocate or agree with a position to understand or consider it.
This psalm warns us about who we may become when oppressed, and what we may reap when we oppress. Let’s take heed.
Comfort: God understands our anger.
Challenge: Compare and contrast the lyrics of “When Will We Be Paid For The Work We’ve Done?” by the Staples Singers to Psalm 137
Prayer: God of renewal, I trust you even with my anger.
Evening readings: Ps 104
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 146, 147; Job 4:1-6, 12-21; Rev 4:1-11; Mark 6:1-6a
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Whiz! Boom! Bang!
Today's readings: Ps 121, 122, 123; Jud 18:1-15; Acts 8:1-13; John 5:30-47
Not surprisingly, the Book of Acts is full of action. The apostles add “great numbers of believers” day after day. No time at all seems to pass between Stephen’s appointment to deacon and his subsequent arrest. So far conversations (with the exception of Stephen’s speech to the council) have been short, to the point, and effective. In today’s reading, Philip converts Simon the magician with one unbelievably believable speech. In John, Jesus performs another sign and gathers new disciples every time he turns a corner. Christianity is a never-ending parade of wonders!
Except when it isn’t. The gospels and Acts are testimonies. Almost by definition, they are favorably biased toward their subject matter. The authors compressed time to keep the stories moving. While they aren’t some sales pitch representing Christianity as painless or without risk, they were written for the purpose of attracting converts. The reality of day-to-day Christianity can suffer by comparison.
Without delving into the theology of miracles, it is safe to say most of us don’t experience them with the same frequency portrayed in the gospels and Acts. If our expectations are not tempered with realism, our own faith experience can be disappointing. We must learn to balance our conviction that God can do anything, with the truth that he doesn’t do everything. Must we resign ourselves to a lackluster faith?
Of course not. We don’t have to host regular healing revivals to be part of a Spirit-filled community. Miracles are nice, but the stories in Judges tell us their effects are not long lasting. We need to learn to recognize the many ways God works through us in the world. A church food pantry that’s taken years to get off the ground, and a village well dug through hard work and mission donations, also point to God’s continued presence in the world. Could it be actually more exciting to see God everywhere, than in discrete miraculous moments?
If we spend our time looking for miracles, we may just be missing them.
Comfort: God can work through us in our daily lives.
Challenge: Each evening ask yourself: “Where did I see God today?”
Prayer: God of renewal, open my eyes to your daily presence.
Evening readings: Ps 124, 125, 126
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 119:145-176; Jud 18:16-31; Acts 8:14-25; John 6:1-15
Not surprisingly, the Book of Acts is full of action. The apostles add “great numbers of believers” day after day. No time at all seems to pass between Stephen’s appointment to deacon and his subsequent arrest. So far conversations (with the exception of Stephen’s speech to the council) have been short, to the point, and effective. In today’s reading, Philip converts Simon the magician with one unbelievably believable speech. In John, Jesus performs another sign and gathers new disciples every time he turns a corner. Christianity is a never-ending parade of wonders!
Except when it isn’t. The gospels and Acts are testimonies. Almost by definition, they are favorably biased toward their subject matter. The authors compressed time to keep the stories moving. While they aren’t some sales pitch representing Christianity as painless or without risk, they were written for the purpose of attracting converts. The reality of day-to-day Christianity can suffer by comparison.
Without delving into the theology of miracles, it is safe to say most of us don’t experience them with the same frequency portrayed in the gospels and Acts. If our expectations are not tempered with realism, our own faith experience can be disappointing. We must learn to balance our conviction that God can do anything, with the truth that he doesn’t do everything. Must we resign ourselves to a lackluster faith?
Of course not. We don’t have to host regular healing revivals to be part of a Spirit-filled community. Miracles are nice, but the stories in Judges tell us their effects are not long lasting. We need to learn to recognize the many ways God works through us in the world. A church food pantry that’s taken years to get off the ground, and a village well dug through hard work and mission donations, also point to God’s continued presence in the world. Could it be actually more exciting to see God everywhere, than in discrete miraculous moments?
If we spend our time looking for miracles, we may just be missing them.
Comfort: God can work through us in our daily lives.
Challenge: Each evening ask yourself: “Where did I see God today?”
Prayer: God of renewal, open my eyes to your daily presence.
Evening readings: Ps 124, 125, 126
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 119:145-176; Jud 18:16-31; Acts 8:14-25; John 6:1-15
Monday, August 16, 2010
But what has God done for me lately?
Today's readings: Ps 106:1-18; Jud 17:1-13; Acts 7:44-8:1a; John 5:19-29
New relationships are exciting. We learn new things. We feel new things. We expect new things. But as a relationship matures, we realize we can’t depend on things being constantly new. Deep relationships are based on established expectations. If we are wise, we confide more in someone we’ve grown to trust over time than in our most recent acquaintance. Unfortunately, we can become almost addicted to the excitement of new relationships because they raise immediately gratifying emotions. In the worst cases, we never learn to value depth over novelty.
Psalm 106 recounts the many times the Hebrews fell in love with God because he delivered them, and how in time the lure of new and exciting local gods repeatedly pulled them away. In Judges 17, the people resume the practice of creating idols after their memory of God’s deliverance begins to fade. Even though they separate themselves from God and lose his favor, God ultimately remains faithful to his people.
In what ways can we be like the Hebrews? When people first find their faith, or have a faith-renewing experience, it’s like the beginning of a new relationship. They are wrapped up in feelings. They see God everywhere. They can be practically giddy. But the novelty eventually fades. If the relationship ages but does not mature, they need new experiences – like new “signs” – of God’s love and presence. An immature relationship demands constant reassurance because it values feeling over faith.
What a mature relationship with God may lack in flash, it makes up in substance. Like lifelong friends who are content simply to be in each other’s presence, our relationship with God may be punctuated with long periods of silence. We should not confuse this silence with absence or boredom. Like a fallow field, it may seem dormant, but below the surface its very structure is constantly renewed. While the steady maintenance of a good relationship, especially when it seems “dull,” may not produce the high of something new, an enduring relationship built on faith and trust is infinitely more rewarding.
Comfort: In times of God’s silence, we still build our relationship.
Challenge: This week, devote 10 minutes a day to silent meditation.
Prayer: God of renewal, I seek a mature and confident relationship with you.
Evening readings: Ps 108:19-48
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 121, 122, 123; Jud 18:1-15; Acts 8:1-13; John 5:30-47
New relationships are exciting. We learn new things. We feel new things. We expect new things. But as a relationship matures, we realize we can’t depend on things being constantly new. Deep relationships are based on established expectations. If we are wise, we confide more in someone we’ve grown to trust over time than in our most recent acquaintance. Unfortunately, we can become almost addicted to the excitement of new relationships because they raise immediately gratifying emotions. In the worst cases, we never learn to value depth over novelty.
Psalm 106 recounts the many times the Hebrews fell in love with God because he delivered them, and how in time the lure of new and exciting local gods repeatedly pulled them away. In Judges 17, the people resume the practice of creating idols after their memory of God’s deliverance begins to fade. Even though they separate themselves from God and lose his favor, God ultimately remains faithful to his people.
In what ways can we be like the Hebrews? When people first find their faith, or have a faith-renewing experience, it’s like the beginning of a new relationship. They are wrapped up in feelings. They see God everywhere. They can be practically giddy. But the novelty eventually fades. If the relationship ages but does not mature, they need new experiences – like new “signs” – of God’s love and presence. An immature relationship demands constant reassurance because it values feeling over faith.
What a mature relationship with God may lack in flash, it makes up in substance. Like lifelong friends who are content simply to be in each other’s presence, our relationship with God may be punctuated with long periods of silence. We should not confuse this silence with absence or boredom. Like a fallow field, it may seem dormant, but below the surface its very structure is constantly renewed. While the steady maintenance of a good relationship, especially when it seems “dull,” may not produce the high of something new, an enduring relationship built on faith and trust is infinitely more rewarding.
Comfort: In times of God’s silence, we still build our relationship.
Challenge: This week, devote 10 minutes a day to silent meditation.
Prayer: God of renewal, I seek a mature and confident relationship with you.
Evening readings: Ps 108:19-48
Tomorrow's readings: Ps 121, 122, 123; Jud 18:1-15; Acts 8:1-13; John 5:30-47
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