FAR FROM SHORE John 10: 1-18

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Listening to a Southern Gospel CD, my ears perk up at the singing of ‘Jesus Pilots My Ship’.  The lyrics talk of wanting Jesus to take the lead as I follow close behind.  Here’s one phrase in that song –‘…I won’t ever drift so far from shore that I can’t hear what He has to say…’

‘I won’t ever drift…’  Really?  Not ever?  Wish I could say that, but I can’t.  I’ve floated far from shore with His voice muffled by laziness, stubbornness and pigheadedness.

An example?  When at Chicago’s Moody Bible Institute, a few friends commit to read our Bibles every day, completing it by year’s end.  Doesn’t seem like a big deal for Bible school students, does it?  But after a couple of days, less than a week, I poop out.  Such stick-to-itiveness!

Then something strange happens.  I’m lying on my dorm bed, wide awake, unable to move.  Paralyzed.  White smoke fills the room.  I hear an audible beastly, hellish laugh.  In a few seconds, it all clears.  I’ve never had anything like that happen before or after.  As if Satan gets his jollies when I fizzle out.  He wins the marbles as I wipe out.  I’ve drifted far from shore.  Can hardly hear Jesus.

Did anything get through my thick skull from that weird experience?  In time (not immediately, sad to say) I commit to daily Bible reading.  I’m still at it, more so than ever.  These days, staying closer to shore, hearing Him much clearer.

And you?  Drifting?  His voice stifled?  Jesus said, ‘…the sheep follow him, for they know his voice’ and ‘…they listen to my voice…’ (John 10: 4,16).

Time to dive daily into your Bible?  You’ll find yourself nearer shoreline, rarely out of range of His voice.  Exactly where you want to be.

 

Thank you, Jesus, for keeping us close by you, hearing your Word.  Amen.

BIG TROUBLE! Mark 3:20-35

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The phone line sizzles red hot after the Good News Club that day.  I’m dog tired after leading 50 kindergarteners in songs and Bible stories.  That summer, after my first year at Princeton Seminary, I agree to lead a series of 8 weeklong Good News Clubs for the town’s children.  Everything runs swimmingly until…

On the phone is the mother of one of the kindergarten girls.  She’s incensed–the mother that is.  Going through the roof.  Off the charts.  Ballistic.  Well, you get the picture.  That morning I taught a cute song with these lyrics–‘Praise ye the Lord, Hallelujah!  Praise ye the Lord, Hallelujah!…Praise ye the Lord.’  Nice praise chorus.  Kids like it and we sing it a couple of times that day.

When this precious darling gets home, that’s when something falls off the tracks.  The little tyke bellows out these words–‘Crazy the Lord, Hallelujah, Crazy the Lord…’  What in the world am I teaching at this Good News Club?  Blasphemy?  Must admit I catastrophize, picturing the collapse of both seminary and ministry as both barely leave the starting gate!

I’m feeling misunderstood.  Who hasn’t?  Don’t call me a name-dropper, but Jesus experiences this all during His earthly ministry.  The religious high mucky-muck damn Him as demon possessed (Mark 3:22).  An ally of Satan?  Nice bunch.  His local religious friends snub their noses at Him for being merely the son of carpenter Joseph (Mark 6:1-6).  His disciples rarely get the point (Mark 4: 41; 6:51-52; 8:15-21).  His own family thinks He’s a nut case (Mark 3: 21).  Misunderstood?  At every turn.

But, unlike me, Jesus rises above it all.  His eyes are fixed on His Father’s love and the mission He’s been given.  That’s a hint.  Keep your focus locked in on Jesus.  And what He wants for you.  That’s real hard work.  Cutting out so many distractions in our over-crowded lives.  But that’s it, like it or not.

‘Turn your eyes upon Jesus, look full in His wonderful face, and the things of earth will grow strangely dim…’  Understood?

 

Lord Jesus, thank you for being understanding.  Amen.

 

SO LITTLE FAITH Matthew 14: 28-33

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When we sail on Israel’s Sea of Galilee, a sandstorm has been raging for countless days.  We can hardly see the water below us, let alone the surrounding shoreline.  At least no storms hit that day.  Not so for Jesus’ disciples, plying those same waters two millennia ago.  Ferocious winds batter their boat, leaving their emotions on pins and needles.

Who comes to their rescue?  We know but they have no idea.  Maybe a phantom or a ghost?  No, it’s Jesus!  And Peter calls out for help.  As we should when life turns ugly.  He’s their rescuer as He’ll be for us.

But it’s Peter who wants more, as in walking on water with Jesus.  Unfortunately, Peter gets spooked, looks down and has that sinking feeling.  Glub, glub, glub!  ‘Lord, save me’ (Matt. 14:30).  And Jesus does.  That’s when our Lord utters those sad words–‘O you of little faith, why did you doubt?’ (Matt. 14:31).

Jesus doesn’t say that they have no faith, but way too little of it.  Looking in my honesty-mirror, when ‘storms’ lash out my way, without missing a beat, I begin to worry.  More than that, I catastrophize, imagining the very worst is just around the corner or smack dab in my face.  At some point I pray, trying to focus on Jesus as best I can, with all those blasted jitters and shakes weighing me down.

Why so hard to rely on my Lord?  Well, I have little faith.  Limp dishrag trust.  Less than a gallon of gas in my belief-tank.  Low-voltage hope.  What to do?  Any ideas?

Here’s a few.  First, I try to remember that the Lord still loves me even when I falter and sink.  Like He does for Peter and the others.  He’s much more forgiving than I imagine.  Then, I daily stay in His Word, the Bible.  Also praying, telling Him all my fears.  Everything really.  Like He doesn’t already know?

That’s a good start.  Our faith?  Not quite so little.  Signs of growth clock in and come to light, much like daffodils in earliest spring!

 

Lord Jesus, help my faith to grow.  Amen.

WHAT’S THAT? 1 Corinthians 3: 5-9

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After retiring from our last church, my wife and I drive across country for the 7th time (no, not escaping mad as hornet parishioners, may I add!), when an idea pops into my mind–‘do a blog’.  A what?  A blog– writing some kind of message.

Not preachy.  Never tooting my own horn, since I used to play clarinet in elementary school!  Be myself.  Always glorify the Lord Jesus.  All published weekly.  Yet I wonder–who will read it?

Some of you have been doing just that from the very beginning–March 24, 2014!  I’m grateful to all Reflections-blog readers.  And here’s where God does His multiplying.  Taking my little effort and growing it.  For word has gotten out.

In 2020, people from 51 countries have been following.  From Africa to Europe, Asia to North and South America, the Caribbean, Australia and New Zealand, the Indian subcontinent and more.  Can you imagine?  I’m flabbergasted.  A global outreach.  Really?  Seems so.

But I dare not forget who gives me the idea, and who helps me day by day, week by week, month by month, year by year.  I know who, and so do you!  1 Corinthians 3:7,9–‘So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God who gives the growth…For we are God’s fellow workers.’

I’m not taking any bows.  No, I’m bowing down to the One who makes it all possible.  Thank you, Jesus!

Maybe there’s something you need to give Him credit for?  Or getting off your duff, putting into use all that He’s gifted you with to help others?

Possibly you’ve been taking too much credit?  How awesome you are while blaming everybody else for putting the kibosh on your golden dreams?  Get off your high horse.

Give credit where credit’s due.  At the feet of Jesus.  Nestled in.  Cuddled close by Him.

 

Thank you, Jesus, for the honor of serving you.  Amen.

WHAT? STOP GIVING? Exodus 35-36

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Can you imagine?  So much money pours in that your pastor calls off church offerings for the foreseeable future.  What?  Stop giving?

I enjoy our church’s giving box that’s discretely located in the back of the sanctuary.  No plates passed.  Don’t feel like a cheapskate not tossing something in.  A button?  Some lint?  Anything’s better than zilch and a goose egg, especially when scowled at by some skeptical, greedy deacon!

Since we give by check or on-line, no one knows.  Privacy-giving, yet pulling our weight.  Doing our part.  Being cheerful givers.  Why?  To grow God’s Kingdom.

Money issues mentioned in church often touch tender nerves.  I’m on the lookout for ulterior motives.  When someone hugs me (when that was safe, pre-virus days!), I put a hand over my back pocket, covering my wallet.  Better check out the rundown condition of the building before first going in the front door.  Who wants to be part of someone else’s debt problem or some go-getter pastor’s agenda needing all my money?  Just kidding.  Sort of.

I remember attending a church until the pastor’s wife says that she’s so excited…about our tithe.  Not us.  Our checkbook.  Maybe she’s joshing?  Maybe not.  It’s what she says.

Moses in Exodus 36 organizes materials and workers for the Tabernacle, where Israel can worship the Lord.  Quite a project, involving lots of people, giving lots of moolah and material.

Reading Exodus 35, we find that the Lord yearns for cheerful givers.  Eager, passionate, openhanded and generous.  Exodus 35:21–‘And they came, everyone whose heart stirred him, and everyone whose spirit moved him, and brought the Lord’s contribution to be used…for all its service’  See?

God’s work.  People’s generosity.  What a team!  Giving so much that the workmen tell Moses that enough is enough.  Stop giving!  Exodus 36:7– ‘So the people were restrained from bringing, for the material they had was sufficient to do all the work, and more.’

Offering plates, locked away in a distant closet, gathering dust.  Annual money pledges or finagling tithe sermons put on hold.  Could this happen today?

Are we giving enough?  Are you?  Am I?

 

Thank you, Jesus, for being so generous.  Amen.

TITLE DEED Hebrews 11

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When we finally decide to move, what a job to find what we want.  Will we know it when we see it?  We start to wonder when home after home, community after community, bats out more foul balls than home runs.  Burned out and fed up, especially when lied to by pushy hotshot sales people.  Or others who could care less.

Until my wife discovers a brand-new neighborhood.  As we drive through, all the boxes are ticked.  Everything comes together as we thank the Lord.  We’ve found where our new home will be!

Our realtor is shocked when next we produce a sizeable check for our down payment, which shows our good faith, matched by the builder’s 5-month hard work commitment.  As spade first hits the ground, all we can do is check construction progress.  And, when complete, it’s not ours until we gain possession of the title.  When the house is paid for, then and only then, is the title deed ours.  Home purchased!

The in-between time requires patience and trust, that what the builder promises will be produced.  Like Hebrews 11 faith–‘Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen’ (v.1).   Over and over again, the phrase ‘by faith’ is repeated.  ‘By faith…assurance…conviction.’  We need the same, especially when we hit life’s speed bumps.  ‘By faith…’

Leaning on Jesus.  Never letting go of His hands.  Sitting, snuggled close by Him, me on one side, you on the other.  Waiting patiently (or trying to!).  Trusting in God’s Word that He will fulfill His promises in His time, in His way.  Hoping for what we currently don’t have or see.  ‘By faith…’

In this life, you and I remain under construction.  He’s not done yet.  The title deed will pass to us as we leave this world for a far, far better place.  And then?  We’re home!  Even the porch light is left on!

 

Thank you, Father, for a mansion over the hilltop with you and Jesus, the Holy Spirit, angels and saints galore!  Amen.

 

SHORTNESS OF BREATH Exodus 6

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Nothing’s scarier in an asthmatic attack than the battle for breath.  Tightness settles in as a distressing squatter.  Your chest feels like a ton of bricks have been dropped on it, ushering in claustrophobic panic.  Breathing labors as a day’s work.  Almost impossible to think about anything else.

My asthma punches in during physical exertion in cold temperatures.  In the winter, when sometimes we’ve gone to a resort in the Washington Cascade mountains, my asthma spray is nearby, especially as the grandsons love Silly Papa to literally throw them down snow covered hills on their ‘Red Racer’ and ‘Yellow Lightning’ sleds.  Outside it’s less than 20 degrees.  Nevertheless, Papa has to do his part… without excuse!

In Exodus 6, the Lord reassures Moses that He will liberate His own out of slavery in Egypt.  God hears their cries.  Help is on the way.  Reading verses 2-8 we hear God promising that ‘I will’ do this and ‘I will’ do that.  Pledges He makes and keeps.  What’s interesting is that in the original Hebrew language, these seven ‘I will’ assurances are all in the past tense.  As if God’s promises have already happened.

But there’s a problem.  Exodus 6: 9–‘Moses spoke thus to the people of Israel, but they did not listen to Moses, because of their broken spirit and harsh slavery.’  In Hebrew ‘broken spirit’ means ‘shortness of breath’.  God’s people asthmatically struggle to believe Him.  Doubts slither and slink toward them like a boa constrictor drawing its victim ever tighter, crushing out breath, cutting them off…from trusting Him.

I’m wondering if there’s someone you know who seems a bit ‘asthmatic’ in their walk with the Lord, finding it hard to trust Him, constricting their faith, gazing backward too often.  If so, maybe you can be like that medicinal mist that opens up breathing.  Praying for them.  Sitting with them.  Listening and encouraging, giving them space to breathe.

Or maybe it’s you who needs God the Holy Spirit’s help.  ‘Spirit’ in Hebrew is the word ‘breath’.  God sprays free breathing where most needed, allowing us to trust the Lord once again.

I know it’s not easy.  But start to breathe in.  Now deeper.  And then more…and more.  Ah!

 

 

Lord Jesus, let me help someone else.  Amen.

 

DELIGHT! Psalm 37

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Do yourself a favor–read Psalm 37 this week.  Slowly and deliberately, like molasses in January.  You won’t be sorry.  Verses 3 and 4 put icing on the cake–‘Trust in the Lord, and do good; dwell in the land and befriend faithfulness.  Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.’

Verse 4 puzzles me.  About myself.  That business of God giving me blessings.  My heart’s desires.  Sometimes I wonder if I’m only on God’s team for the goodies.  What I can wangle out of Him.  Twist His arm.  Somehow trick the Almighty.  Like that old beastly book entitled, ‘Prayer–How to Get Things From God’.  Yuck!

On better days, I want to delight in the Lord.  Love Him for being who He is.  Like I do with our grandchildren.  We have the best.  Love them whole bunches.  Yours too, if you have them.  If not, you delight in your spouse.  Friends and family.  Work.  Hobbies.  Sports teams.  Whatever and whoever.  You know–Delight!

A big question comes to mind.  How can I delight in God?  How?  Any ideas?  Probably similar to other delights.  With our grandkids, it’s being with them.   Hanging out, enjoying whatever they want to do.

One example is playing board games.  Fun, competitive tribe we have!  It’s a delight to see the joy on their faces, especially when Silly Papa pretends to shed big crocodile tears over being the biggest loser!  Delight!

Another is proudly displaying their pictures wherever there’s room.  And cherishing anything, and I mean anything, that they make for me, putting them all around my office.  I can barely squeeze in myself!  Delight!

This week think about delighting in the Lord.  As in what gives Him pleasure.  Ideas?  Can’t be too difficult.  If I can think of a bunch, so can you.  Delight!

By the way, never forget what a delight you are to Him!  Zephaniah 3:17–‘The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save.  He will take great delight in you…’  And Isaiah 62: 4–‘…but you shall be called My Delight…’  See?

Happy, Healthy, Delightful New Year!

 

Thank you, Jesus, for you.  Amen.

AFTER CHRISTMAS Luke 2: 8-21

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Now that Christmas day has come and gone, we have lots to do.  Tossing out torn and shredded wrapping paper.  Tidying up the kitchen from stem to stern.  Sighing a whisper of relief that all went fairly well this time ’round!  Know what I mean?  No, you don’t.  Neither do we.  Not with blasted pandemic lockdowns shelving and nixing all our family gatherings!

Normally when holidays end, it’s off to the next one as far as planning and preparation goes.  Rarely look back.  When it’s over, it’s over.  Until I announce that it’s only 364 more days ’til Christmas.  All groan, hoping I’ll shut my big mouth.  Enough already!

But for Jesus’ mother, reflection time begins.  After all, Mary’s life becomes jam-packed.  Begins early, getting word that she’s pregnant when…well, you know.  Hoping that Joseph will stand by her.  He does, given time, good godly man that he is.

Mary then nests with older relatives, Elizabeth and Zechariah.  Near her term’s completion, it’s off to Bethlehem, an overcrowded town, offering only a back stable in which to bear and cradle her newborn son.

From there they journey to Jerusalem’s Temple to dedicate Jesus, where two elderly people speak one-for-the-book prophetic news.  Then, as if out-of-the-blue, they’re visited by curious characters from the East, who bring unexpected and precious gifts.

It’s after Christmas with activity still buzzing.  ‘But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart’ (Luke 2:19).  She doesn’t jump ahead, planning for the next whatever.  No, she stops, turning it all over in her mind.  Putting on her spiritual thinking cap.  Mulling it over.

That’s something for me.  To reflect on His birth a tad longer.  Reading Luke and Matthew’s birth accounts…at a snail’s pace.  Putting on the brakes.  Slowing down.  Not skipping ahead.  Letting this good news of Jesus percolate and seep through.  Even for an extra day or two.  I can do that.

Join me?  Would love the company!

 

Thank you, Lord God, for the gift of Jesus.  Amen.

HIM Numbers 17

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My first ministry call is to a suburban New York City church with over 1500 members, including corporate executives and television actors on its roster, making this both a stirring and terrifying place.  Most of the time, I’m shakin’ in my boots as a lowly assistant pastor.

The senior minister possesses poise and personality, the likes of which I’ve never experienced before or since.  Charming and intimidating, all wrapped up in him.  Could sense him in a room long before you see him.  A true presence.  Him.

For the contingent of 4 ordained clergy, we have weekly staff meetings in my office at the far end of the church education building.  The senior pastor names them ‘rump sessions’, as if we’re reporting to the king.  Him.  We three (not kings!) give in-depth ministry updates, warned expressly to ‘never surprise the boss’.  Him.  After this gathering, we adjourn to the administration building where over 26 of us–myriad secretaries, financial officer, business manager, organist, choir director, a slew of custodians, and some I forget–all report to the head of staff.  Him.

So what does this have to do with Numbers 17, let alone Christmas?  Good question.  Numbers 17 shows us that Aaron is the only priest chosen by God whose wooden staff buds, blossoms and bears fruit overnight.  Next day, all Israel’s family leaders reclaim their own staff.  Just a stick.  Nothing more.  Only Aaron’s staff is unique.

Jesus is God’s chosen One to save us from our sin.  Him alone.  Society doesn’t want to hear this.  They posit many paths, all leading somewhere; but, unfortunately, unbeknownst to them, never to redemption.  All for naught, except the one staff that buds, blossoms and bears fruit.  At Christmas, we know who that staff symbolizes– Jesus, God’s only Son.  Him.

John 3:16–‘For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son…’  No fearsome and forbidding, shivery and quivery staff meetings.  No salvation by committee.  All we’ll ever need is found wrapped up in swaddling cloths in a manger in Bethlehem all those years ago.  He’s the one and only Him.  Jesus!

Merry Christmas!

 

Lord Jesus, thank you for being our best gift ever.  Amen.