Thoughts on The Way

 

There will be a Last Time (Sabbath Thoughts)
There will be a last time I ever make a stupid decision.
There will be a last time I stub my toe.
A last article I ever write.
A last time I take out the garbage.
A last time I eat a donut.
A last time I ever change a poopy diaper.
There will be a last time I ever see my parents in this life.
A last time I visit my childhood home.
A last time I see my own children.
And there will be a last time Satan and his demons ever deceive another human being.
There will be a last time I ever sin.
A last time I need to repent.
There will be a last time anyone ever has to die.
Some of these “last times” happen with a lot of pomp and circumstance. Some of them pass us by unnoticed, without any warning that they’ll never happen again. Some of them I’m looking forward to. Some of them I dread. But they’re coming, all the same.
Life is full of “last times.” We can stick our heads in the ground and pretend that they’ll never happen, or we can acknowledge that they’re unavoidable. Guess which approach makes them easier to deal with when they finally hit?
“To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven” (Ecclesiastes 3:1).

A Queen and not a Widow (The Word and The Way)
“To the degree that she glorified herself and lived sensuously, to the same degree give her torment and mourning; for she says in her heart, ‘I SIT as A QUEEN AND I AM NOT A WIDOW, and will never see mourning.’ “For this reason in one day her plagues will come, pestilence and mourning and famine, and she will be burned up with fire; for the Lord God who judges her is strong. And the kings of the earth, who committed acts of immorality and lived sensuously with her, will weep and lament over her when they see the smoke of her burning, standing at a distance because of the fear of her torment, saying, ‘Woe, woe, the great city, Babylon, the strong city! For in one hour your judgment has come.’” Revelation 18:7-10
The ‘all caps’ in the verses above is not my doing. The translation I use makes note of when the New Testament cites the Old Testament by putting the words in ‘all caps’. In this instance, John the Revelator is referencing Isaiah 47. In fact, a whole lot of the book of Revelation references the Old Testament.
I am bringing this up because I want to ask the reader a question: from where does a queen derive her power? This is a much harder question to answer for those of us in the Americas than for those on the European continent, because we largely lack monarchies on this side of the world. A queen derives her power from a king. In order for a woman to ascend to the throne of a country, her husband must have died or her father died without having male children.
The congregation of true believers is analogized as a pure bride by the Apostle Paul and others, but even in the book of Revelation itself we can see that the congregation of those who remain true are referred to as chaste bride clothed in white:
“Let us rejoice and be glad and give the glory to Him, for the marriage of the Lamb has come and His bride has made herself ready.” It was given to her to clothe herself in fine linen, bright and clean; for the fine linen is the righteous acts of the saints. Revelation 19:7,8
The contrast we have here is a congregation of faithful and obedient believers being identified as a chaste bride clothed in white and the congregation of syncretic and disobedient believers being analogized as a harlot clothed in scarlet. This is a pretty easy distinction to figure out.
However, the identifier of the Babylon of the end times being a queen and not a widow gives us a little more insight. That means this Babylon character is a power that believes it derives its power from itself without the need of the husband (God). There are a couple groups that fit this category but which country or culture do we see today that has been historically faithful, blessed beyond comprehension, and yet has decided to push any reference to the Almighty from the public square? Western culture as a whole has been pursuing a secular agenda for quite a while, but the United States today is remarkably pushing God out of the public square. We have had the world’s most powerful military and economy for quite a while and have lived in almost universal peace and safety for over fifty years. This degree of security and prosperity for such a length of time makes us start to believe that we will never see mourning, especially nothing like the hard times our forefathers endured to build that peace.
There are a whole lot of things lining up recently that look end-time-ish lately. Is this the end, birth pangs for the end, or just another cyclic change in the power structure on planet earth? Only Yahweh knows for sure. But it is intriguing to explore the parallels between the USA and the Babylonian end-time power. While this nation has sinned a lot historically and has never kept the 4th commandment, it was founded by those seeking to have the religious freedom to worship the God of the Bible as they saw fit. As our country has prospered immensely in the last fifty or sixty years, our culture has turned more into a secular humanist society. This means we, as a nation, have decided to lean on our own works and reject the Almighty. Our culture has also very rapidly been promoting the mixing of belief systems under the guise of ‘tolerance’. These things add up to fitting the idea that America is starting to believe that she is a queen who needs no husband, and that is a dangerous place to be.

Something Good is Happening (Morning Companion)
Culturally, something good is happening. Recently Russell Brand welcomed Jordan Peterson’s daughter Mikhaila Fuller to his podcast. Their fascinating conversation turned into a lengthy discussion about her conversion to Christianity and evolved from there into them both pulling out their Bibles to engage in a Bible study. It begins at about the 30 minute make of this video and continues to the end:
https://rumble.com/embed/v5rryf2/?pub=e35ip
Ms. Fuller explains how her mother’s illness and apparent miraculous healing from cancer as well as subsequent events in her own life led her to baptism earlier this year. Brand shares his own journey and his escape from addictions.
I am not one to question whether God is working with people whose doctrinal understanding doesn’t correspond 100% with mine. The truth of such matters are for the Almighty to decide. I claim no special revelation in that regard. I do know that good things happen when people open the Bible and search for God through its pages. Brand and Fuller are both imperfect Christians, which they admit in this interview, but it is hard to argue with the positive impact their study of Scripture has led them.
The public resurgence of interest in things Biblical is heartening and encouraging. Though I don’t know why it’s happening, I do have my theories. It could be preparation for the strength we’ll need in the coming years, or it could be beginning of a new era of greatness. Maybe it’s both. Whatever it is, it’s worth welcoming.

The Only Thing We Have To Fear (Sabbath Thoughts)
The year was 1933.  In the United States of America the Great Depression had reached its peak. What remained of the fragile economy was fading quickly, and all attempts to stem the bleeding had failed. The public had lost faith in President Hoover and instead turned their hopes to newcomer Franklin Delano Roosevelt. It was then, during his inaugural speech, that President Roosevelt delivered to the American people words bound for the annals of history:
“This is pre-eminently the time to speak the truth, the whole truth, frankly and boldly. Nor need we shrink from honestly facing conditions in our country today. This great Nation will endure as it has endured, will revive and will prosper. So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself – nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance.”
It was a rallying speech, followed quickly by action – radical legislation and sweeping reforms that would begin to revive the failing economy. All of this was framed by a handful of words that still hold a prominent place in the American consciousness: “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” Roosevelt was saying, in essence, that the only thing we need to be afraid of is being held back by our own fears. If we can just escape the paralyzing grip of those fears, we will begin to “convert retreat into advance” and overcome any obstacle before us. Fear, and fear alone, separates us from our goals.
In his first of many famous radio-hosted “fireside chats,” Roosevelt promised the American public that “Confidence and courage are the essentials of success in carrying out our plan,” and invited the nation to “unite in banishing fear.” Fear was the enemy restraining the country, and Roosevelt was determined to root it out.
Fear can certainly be a paralyzing force. No human being has made it through this life without experiencing its icy clutches. We can fear people; we can fear the future; we can fear failure – if it’s out there, it can be feared. But … is fear really the enemy? Is “fear itself” really what we need to be afraid of?
The author of Ecclesiastes was inspired to conclude his book with these words: Fear God and keep His commandments, For this is man’s all. For God will bring every work into judgment, Including every secret thing, Whether good or evil. (Ecclesiastes 12:13-14)
“Fear God.” What does that mean? Is that the “nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror” Roosevelt warned against?
The Hebrew word translated here as “fear” is yare’ (H3372), and it refers to a fear brought about through awe and astonishment. To fear God is to stand in awe of who He is, to have a healthy sense of respect and honor for His position as Creator and Sustainer of the universe. Coupled right beside this admonition is another to “keep His commandments.” If we truly fear God, if we truly respect and honor who He is, then we will be doing the things He tells us to do!
In the prophecies given by God to Micah, we are given a brief vision into the time when the mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established on the top of the mountains…and peoples shall flow to it (Micah 4:1).
In that time, we are told, everyone shall sit under his vine and under his fig tree, And no one shall make them afraid; For the mouth of the Lord of hosts has spoken. For all people walk each in the name of his god, But we will walk in the name of the Lord our God. Forever and ever. (Micah 4:4-5)
There is so much we can be afraid of in this world. In our personal lives and on a global scale, it can often feel as though we are perpetually one false step away from a self-destructive meltdown. It’s increasingly difficult to place any sort of confidence in the stuff of day to day life.
But we don’t have to. In fact, we shouldn’t. Our trust – and our fear – belongs in one place, and one place only: in the Lord our God.
Then “we may boldly say: ‘The Lord is my helper; I will not fear. What can man do to me?’” (Hebrews 13:6).

The God Who Grieves (Morning Companion)
And He entered the synagogue again, and a man was there who had a withered hand. So they watched Him closely, whether He would heal him on the Sabbath, so that they might accuse Him. And He said to the man who had the withered hand, “Step forward.” Then He said to them, “Is it lawful on the Sabbath to do good or to do evil, to save life or to kill?” But they kept silent. And when He had looked around at them with anger, being grieved by the hardness of their hearts, He said to the man, “Stretch out your hand.” And he stretched it out, and his hand was restored as whole as the other. Then the Pharisees went out and immediately plotted with the Herodians against Him, how they might destroy Him. (Mark 3:1-6 NKJV)
I was driving by a church in my neighborhood, when the marquee out front struck me in an odd way. It said, “God loves you just the way you are.”
Those are comforting sounding words. Too bad they are only half true.
It is true that God loves you. He loves you a lot. He even loves this evil world a lot: He so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son. But does he love you — or this world — just the way you are? Did the prodigal son’s father love his son just the way he was? Did he enable the dissipating lifestyle that he saw unfolding before him? As much as he loved his son, I suspect he grieved mightily over him, very much as Jesus grieved over the hardness of people’s hearts when he asked a question they couldn’t answer:
Is it lawful on the Sabbath day to do good or evil?
Mark tells us that Jesus was both angry and grieved at the hardness of their hearts. That tells us that it is possible to be both angry and grieving when those we love are hurting themselves. Phillip Yancey tells this poignant story:
Not long ago I heard from a pastor friend who was battling with his fifteen-year-old daughter. He knew she was using birth control, and several nights she had not bothered to come home at all. The parent had tried various forms of punishment to no avail. The daughter lied to them, deceived them, and found a way to turn the tables on them: “It’s your fault for being so strict!”
My friend told me, “I remember standing before the plate-glass window in my living room, staring out into the darkness, waiting for her to come home. I felt such rage. I wanted to be like the father of the Prodigal Son, yet I was furious with my daughter for the way she would manipulate us and twist the knife to hurt us. And of course, she was hurting herself more than anyone. I understood then the passages in the prophets expressing God’s anger. The people knew how to wound him, and God cried out in pain.
“And yet I must tell you, when my daughter came home that night, or rather the next morning, I wanted nothing in the world so much as to take her in my arms, to love her, to tell her I wanted best for her. I was a helpless, lovesick father.”
(What’s So Amazing about Grace?, Zondervan Publishing House, copyright 1997, page 56)
When we read the Hebrew prophets who see a grieving Father angry over his self-destructive children, children who are bringing destruction and heartbreak upon themselves, and just as important, a Father who will bring judgement on those who are misleading his children. Do you want an example of teachers misleading people today? How about telling people that God loves them just the way they are. The truth is, God loves us in spite of what we are.

Something to Smile About (Sabbath Meditations)
God is being tossed out of our schools and our civic life; battles are waging over the definition of marriage and the rights of the unborn to life; our pocket books are being drained; illegal aliens are streaming over our borders; and terrorism is no longer something that happens somewhere else in the world. These are the realities we live with. It’s enough to wipe the smile away from even the most jovial among us.
Ephesians 5:19 tells us that we as Christians should be “singing and making melody in (our) heart to the Lord.” It’s difficult to make melody in your heart while your mind is consumed with the negative realities and Godlessness around us.
So, how do we do it? Should we strive to remain oblivious and detached from this world’s problems? I don’t believe so. We are told in Ezekiel 9:4 to “sigh and cry for the abominations that are done in this world.” We can’t very well be oblivious of the problems around us and simultaneously lament them.So how, then, are we supposed to make melody in our hearts and sigh and cry at the same time? How does that work?
The answer is simply this: Our internal reality must overpower and supersede the external one. We, as Christians, although recognizing and lamenting the state of our current world, should be primarily driven by, influenced by and responsive to our hope and confidence in Jesus Christ, which is our internal, and eternal, reality. The joy that our focus on that reality brings supersedes and overwhelms the negativity that living in this world would otherwise produce.
We are Ambassadors of a better world to come. If we are to be Ambassadors for Him, our countenance, both inside and out, should reflect that reality.
So does that mean we should all walk around with cheesy grins on our faces? No, not necessarily. We can’t very well portray the joy that is in our hearts when all that is etched on our faces is gloom and doom. The witness of a somber Christian is a bit like the ship captain who tells his passengers that the boat’s not going to sink, as he straps on his life vest and jumps into a life boat. He’s not very believable.
If our focus is on the hope that lies within us, the joy that is produced by that focus can’t help but overflow to our outward countenance. We will have a little extra spring in our step; a glimmer in our eye; and yes, the corners of our mouth will tend to turn up a little more often. That smile you have on the inside can’t help but occasionally spill over to the outside.
So, my dear Christian brothers and sisters. Do we live in a messed up world? Yes. Is it getting worse daily? Definitely, Yes. Should we be concerned and at times saddened by what we see around us? Our God is, so, yes, we should be as well. Should these realities, however, overwhelm and cause us despair? Most definitely No. The realities of this world are temporary. The reality we live in, we focus on, is eternal. That’s certainly something to smile about.

Taking Your Calling Personally (Sabbath Thoughts)
“For you see your calling, brethren …”
Wait. Stop. Don’t just read past it. You’ve seen this verse a thousand times – this time, read it again for the first time.
“For you see your calling.” Your calling.
It doesn’t belong to anyone else. Not to the Church. Not to your peers. Not to those who came before you, and not to those who will come after.
It’s yours. Your calling belongs to you and you alone.
The implications are as unsettling as they are liberating. No one can take this from you. No one – not the Church, not your peers, not those above or below you. But it also means that it’s entirely on us. On our shoulders. No one else can ruin it for us, but they can’t make it work for us, either.
If you fail to enter the Kingdom, the fault is ultimately yours.
That’s what all this means. No one on earth, not even Satan himself, can prevent you from entering the Kingdom. God has given us – will continue to give us – everything we need to make that journey. It all hinges on our choices.
No one can snatch us from our Father’s hand, it’s true – but no one is going to stop us from hopping out of it, either. If we’re holding fast what we have, no one can take our crown – but there’s nothing in place to prevent us from handing that crown over out of boredom or frustration.
When God stands before us and commands us to “choose life, that both you and your descendants may live” (Deuteronomy 30:19), there’s not a thing in the world that can stop us from saying no. The choice to turn our backs and walk away is always, always on the table. This is our calling, after all.
The problem is, after accepting and truly understanding it, we only get to reject that calling once. Just once. “For it is impossible for those who were once enlightened, and have tasted the heavenly gift, and have become partakers of the Holy Spirit, and have tasted the good word of God and the powers of the age to come, if they fall away, to renew them again to repentance, since they crucify again for themselves the Son of God, and put Him to an open shame” (Hebrews 6:4-6).
It’s not that we can’t repent. We can always repent, and God always stands ready to forgive and cleanse us (1 John 1:9). The terrifying implication of that passage is that we can come to a point where we’re no longer interested in repenting. Where we refuse to repent. And at that point …
At that point, “there no longer remains a sacrifice for sins, but a certain fearful expectation of judgment, and fiery indignation which will devour the adversaries. Anyone who has rejected Moses’ law dies without mercy on the testimony of two or three witnesses. Of how much worse punishment, do you suppose, will he be thought worthy who has trampled the Son of God underfoot, counted the blood of the covenant by which he was sanctified a common thing, and insulted the Spirit of grace?” (Hebrews 10:26-29).
Brethren, are we talking our calling personally? Because we must. We absolutely must if we intend to enter the Kingdom of God. This is the most intensely personal thing you will ever do in your entire life – for although we’re instructed to “bear one another’s burdens” on our collective journey to the Kingdom, the truth is that “each one shall bear his own load” (Galatians 6:2, 5).
When the seventh trumpet sounds, you will either rise or you will not. There isn’t a thing anyone can do in that moment to help you or hurt you. This is your calling. Your decision. Your choice.

Relationship vs. Reward (Sabbath Meditations)
On 17th December 1903, brothers Wilbur and Orville Wright successfully made the first controlled, powered and sustained heavier-than-air human flight.
The Wright brothers weren’t alone in their quest to conquer the air. Their main source of competition was from a man named Dr. Samuel Langley. Langley was the Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, and, therefore, had many more resources available to him than had the Wright Brothers. He also had a $50,000 grant with which to develop his flying machine.
In terms of resources, Wilbur and Orville could not compete. Both high school drop-outs, they had no association, no $50,000 grant, no connections, nothing. What little resources they did have came from earnings from their small bicycle repair and sales shop.
But what Orville and Wilbur lacked in resources they made up for in passion. Of their passion for pursuing their dream of flight Orville is quoted as saying, “We could hardly wait to get up in the morning.” That passion drove them to undertake endless days and nights of methodical research, countless hours of rigorous testing, punctuated by failed attempts and disappointments too numerous to number.
It’s said that when the brothers took to the fields to test out the latest iteration of their flying machine, it became their practice to take along a replacement for every part on the machine, assuming mishaps and failures to be inevitable. Their passion for the idea of flight allowed them to rise above any obstacle, any set-back they might experience.
In contrast, their chief competitor, Dr. Langley, it seems, was motivated primarily by the glory he anticipated receiving for being first to achieve flight. It’s telling that, after the Wright Brothers ultimately achieved success that day in mid December, Dr. Langley, rather than building upon what had been accomplished, simply walked away. Once there was no prospect of personal reward and glory, there remained, for him, no motivation to continue.
In so many areas of life, the thing that sets ultimate success apart from failure is passion. This principle is nowhere more true than in our Christian walk.
You’d be hard pressed to find any greater example of passion for God and His ways than David. Called as a ruddy shepherd boy, it certainly wasn’t his physical qualities or resources that would cause anyone to deem him worthy of being chosen a future king of Israel. But David had something that made up for all he lacked.
In Psalm 27:4 David writes “One thing I ask from the LORD, this only do I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the LORD and to seek him in his temple.”
I find what David doesn’t say here more instructive than what he does say. We don’t read here of his desire to seek the Lord “…that I may be crowned a King and a Priest and rule in Your Kingdom,” or, “…that I may be clothed with immortality and power.” He just doesn’t seem to be wrapped up in the glory that he ultimately will receive as a child of God.
Where was his primary focus? “To dwell with the Lord…to gaze at the beauty of the Lord…and to seek Him in His temple.” In short, what motivated David was his passion for walking, now and forever, in close, intimate relationship with His Savior.
Can you and I say the same? Is the thing that primarily motivates us to walk this walk our expectation for the promised reward, the hope of glory and immortality to come, or, is it our passion for this relationship we have been given?
Let me ask it a different way.
If there were no hope of eternal reward and glory, would your love for the Lord and the way He has taught be enough to sustain you in this path? Do you consider the gift of your relationship with Him so precious that you would seek Him and His ways regardless of the reward?
It goes without saying that the promised reward we have waiting at the end of this path should give us hope. Even David yearned for that time when he said, “…you will not allow my body to see decay…You will fill me with joy in Your presence, with eternal pleasures at Your right hand.” – Psalm 16:10-11.
Even when looking ahead to that future reward, however, David focused not on the crown and the glory he would receive but on “being filled with joy in Your presence.” His primary hope for the future was in a continuation of the relationship he was experiencing with his Lord in the present. It was his passion for that relationship that sustained him through all the failures, the set-backs and disappointments of life.
For Orville and Wilbur, being the first to achieve flight, getting the rewards, the accolades, the glory, although surely meaningful, were really just icing on the cake. Their true joy and fulfillment came from their love and passion for flying. Their success simply meant that they would continue to pursue that passion for the rest of their lives.
One day you and I will, by the grace of God, be among the first to take flight; albeit flight of an entirely different nature than Orville and Wilbur ever contemplated. As the firstfruits of His Harvest, we will someday rise to meet our Lord in the air at His return.
Yes, there will be thrones and dominions to be had. Yes, immortality and power will be our reward, but the real joy, the ultimate reward, will not be the crown, but the continuation of our relationship with our Lord, to “seek Him in His temple” for all eternity.

The Water Ceremony (Morning Companion)
On the last day, that great day of the feast, Jesus stood and cried out, saying, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to Me and drink. He who believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.” But this He spoke concerning the Spirit, whom those believing in Him would receive; for the Holy Spirit was not yet given, because Jesus was not yet glorified. (John 7:37-39, NKJV)
When Jesus stood up and shouted out his message, it was the last day of the Feast of Tabernacles, a mere six months before his crucifixion. His preaching was taking on an urgency as his earthly ministry was coming to close.
On this last day of the Feast the people celebrated with a traditional water ceremony. Water was drawn from the Pool of Siloam, the very pool where Jesus on the next day would instruct a blind man to wash his eyes for healing (John 9). From the Pool of Siloam the priests and the people would walk in procession through Jerusalem, through the Water Gate, and into the Temple. There the priest would pour that water from the healing Pool of Siloam into a silver bowl on the altar as a special offering to God.
It is worth noting that this water ceremony is not a part of any Biblical liturgy. There is no instruction anywhere in the Scripture commanding this tradition, but it is also worth noting that Jesus did not condemn it. Rather he used it as a teaching tool.
During the ceremony a number of scriptural passages might have been in the people’s minds. Maybe they were thinking of Isaiah 44 and the analogy associated with water when it is poured on a thirsty ground.
‘Fear not, O Jacob My servant; And you, Jeshurun, whom I have chosen.
For I will pour water on him who is thirsty, And floods on the dry ground;
I will pour My Spirit on your descendants, And My blessing on your offspring;
They will spring up among the grass like willows by the watercourses.’
Maybe they thought about Ezekiel 47 and the prophecy of pure healing water gushing from the Temple Mount as a blessing and the bringing forth of life and healing.
This water flows toward the eastern region, goes down into the valley, and enters the sea. When it reaches the sea, its waters are healed. And it shall be that every living thing that moves, wherever the rivers go, will live. There will be a very great multitude of fish, because these waters go there; for they will be healed, and everything will live wherever the river goes. Maybe they were listening to the words that a choir of priests were singing from Isaiah 12:
Lord, I will praise You; Though You were angry with me,
Your anger is turned away, and You comfort me.
Behold, God is my salvation, I will trust and not be afraid;
‘For Yah, the Lord, is my strength and song; He also has become my salvation.’
Therefore with joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation.
If those that heard Jesus’s voice that day made the connection with the words of Isaiah 12, Jesus’s shout would have been an electric shock to them considering from whom the words were coming. To understand that, understand what the Hebrew says in verse 2.
The phrase “God is my salvation” is “el yeshua”. “El” is Hebrew for “God”, and “Yeshua” is Hebrew for “Jesus”, which in turn means “salvation”. And verse 3 speaks of “draw[ing] water from the wells of salvation [yeshua].”
So going back back to John 7, a man named Yeshua makes an obvious reference to a passage from the prophets that uses the word “yeshua” in connection with the waters of salvation drawn from a pool of healing. Jesus is offering them a clue to his true identity and origin.
This teaching was shocking but effective. Some believed him (verses 40-41), some doubted (verses 41-42), and some wanted to arrest him for blasphemy (verse 44). Regardless of where they stood, they knew exactly what he was saying about himself and who he really was.
The theological points Jesus was making are obvious ones: He is the way to salvation. He can satisfy our search for meaning. He will send the Holy Spirit and that Spirit through us can help heal the world.
There is also a lesson here on how to reach people with a message. Remember that this Water Ceremony was not a part of the original liturgy from the Torah. It was a cultural thing that was added some time between Moses and Herod’s Temple. Yet Jesus had no problem using the culture of the day as a teaching tool. That should be a clue to us that using our popular culture to teach spiritual lessons is not only acceptable, but also smart. Lessons from movies, lessons from popular books, lessons from news events — these all can be sources of instruction.
Put differently, we cannot afford to isolate ourselves from society at large. We must understand the thinking process and milieu of those around us. Engage the culture from where it is. Speak in terms that they can relate to. And keep the message positive whenever possible.——————————————————————————————————————-
For more information on the Water Ceremony, go to these links:
http://jewishroots.net/library/holiday-articles/water_libation_ceremony.html http://www.jewishencyclopedia.com/articles/14794-water-drawing-feast-of https://jewsforjesus.org/publications/issues/issues-v06-n07/sukkot-a-promise-of-living-water/

Riddles (New Church Lady)
Proverbs 1:5-6 [NLT] 5 Let the wise listen to these proverbs and become even wiser. Let those with understanding receive guidance 6 by exploring the meaning in these proverbs and parables, the words of the wise and their riddles.
I really loved learning algebra. It was one of my favorite classes in school and I tutored more than one family member through their own algebra classes. It was like solving a puzzle or finding a treasure to me. Following the steps outlined, we solved the mathematical riddle. I enjoyed algebra even though there was one piece of the instruction I never really understood – the practical application of it.
The wiser people of this world, according to Proverbs, speak in riddles, proverbs and parables. The book of Proverbs was written to help us explore and understand their meaning so that we can apply them to our lives. Proverbs is like key to an algebra problem in that it is a key to a good life, helping us figure life out. Its practical application is to make our lives better, wiser – to guide us.
Here is one I like from Maya Angelou: When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time. People can be a puzzle, but sometimes they show us the truth and we need to believe it.
Solomon took it upon himself to be our tutor through the puzzle of life. Ultimately, it seems that he didn’t always follow his own advice. For example, even though within the book of Proverbs he warned often against temptations of the opposite sex and those who would draw a person into sin, he didn’t take his own advice. Instead he gathered many pagan wives who he eventually followed into the sin of idolatry.
Proverbs 1:5-6 tells us that even those who are already wise can and should learn from this book. We should be always on a quest to understand God’s word better, to gain more knowledge of scripture and life lessons, and to apply them to the riddles of life – whether those riddles are people or events or opportunities.
God doesn’t expect us to just understand the proverbs. He doesn’t want us to just solve the riddle of living a good life. He wants us to apply these lessons, to be guided by them into a better and happier life – because all the pieces of the puzzle fit together when God’s word guides us.

That New-Fangled Religion (Morning Companion)
Nancy Pearcy, in her book Total Truth, says that the great philosophies and religions of the world attempt to answer three questions:
1. How did it all begin?
2. What went wrong?
3. What can we do about it?
(See Total Truth: Liberating Christianity from Its Cultural Captivity, Nancy Pearcey, page 128, Crossway Books, copyright 2004)
The Christian world view constructs the framework in this way:
1. It began with creation. “In the beginning God …”
2. The “Fall” is what went wrong. Sin had entered the world.
3. The solution is redemption through Jesus Christ.
By these lights, political and social movements often take on a near religious if not fanatical tone. Here is how Marxism presents itself:
1. Origins: Self-generating matter. Primitive communism.
2. The Fall: The advent of private property.
3. Redemption: Revolution and the dictatorship of the proletariat leading to a return to primitive communism.
French philosopher Jean Jacques Rousseau’s world view was something like this:
1. Origin: State of nature.
2. The Fall came when society or civilization organized people away from the state of nature.
3. Redemption comes when the State takes over all aspects of society.
New Age spirituality takes this approach:
1. Origins: The Absolute, the One, a Universal Spiritual Essence.
2. The Fall: The sense of individuality.
3. Redemption: Reuniting with the Universal Spiritual Essence.
(Note: For a more complete explanation of these world views and others, see Pearcey’s lengthy explanations in pages 127-150 of Total Truth.)
One way to view all of the world philosophies is to see them as perversions of the biblical paradigm of origin, fall, and redemption. That’s a valid observation. It’s also an indication of something else: that people need to find a structure for meaning. People want to know not only where they come from and why bad things happen, we also have a need to find solutions – redemption – if you will.
This speaks to the great spiritual hole in our hearts, a hole that needs to be filled with something. That longing can be a dangerous opening for demagogic exploitation (Communism, Nazism, and other demonic promises of redemption). Or, that longing can be an opportunity to open one’s heart for real redemption.
If you are looking for something to pray about these days, notice that the fields are ripe for harvest. That chase for new-fangled religions and tempting ideologies speaks to a need. To get a little personal here, I was once on a quest for ultimate meaning, and my journey led me to take from the shelf a two-decade old Bible that had barely been cracked. My sincerity in my journey was rewarded, and the presence of that Book was a cornerstone of that. For others that cornerstone might be a friend, a friend who lives a life that lives the words instead of just mouthing them.
If sincere seekers are looking for answers, surely the Father can draw them. Pray to the Lord of the harvest to send more workers into the field. And you know what? Maybe you can be one of those workers in the field even if it’s face to face with one person at a time.

Getting Started (Sabbath Thoughts)
Over the last year or so, I’ve come across a handful of modern motivational phrases that have coalesced in my mind into something of a mantra:
Done is better than perfect.
Some is better than none.
Just get started.
We can hide behind perfect. If we’re not sure we can do something perfectly, it’s easier not to do it at all.
Doing nothing guarantees we never make progress.
No progress, ironically, keeps us from getting closer to perfect.
Your initial efforts are always going to be tiny and imperfect. The temptation is to come out of the gate with a masterpiece, but it doesn’t work like that. Behind any masterpiece is a whole host of (often unseen) painstaking attempts at progress – including failures and even steps backward.
That shouldn’t scare us from taking steps.
That shouldn’t scare us from trying.
Stumbling is part of the process. There’s no bypassing it. You don’t learn to walk without it. You don’t learn to run without it. Moving forward means accepting and embracing those moments of struggle as an unavoidable vehicle of progress. We can’t let our ultimate goal of perfection scare us from moving toward perfection.
I don’t know what you’ve been putting off, because of the gulf between what you’re capable of doing and what you wish you could do. Prayer? Bible study? Meditation? Fasting? Fellowship?
…Regularly updating your blog? (I know, I know, okay?)
The only way to get better at these things is to start doing them. Stumble if you have to, but take the steps to do something.
Done is better than perfect. Some is better than none. Just get started.

Righteous Lot (Morning Companion)
He delivered righteous Lot who was oppressed by the filthy conduct of the wicked. (2 Peter 2:6)
When I read in Genesis about what Lot did, I wonder how Peter can refer to him as righteous Lot. Think about his history.
First, we see him choosing a residence overlooking the glitz and glamour of the city of Sodom. Before long he is so attracted to the lights and laughter of the place that he settles inside the city.
Then we see him “sitting in the gate” of Sodom (Genesis 19:1), which means that he was an official of the city.
He offered his daughters to the mob of depraved men in order to appease their violence and lust. He even call these desperados “brethren” (verse 7).
He had to be dragged bodily out of Sodom in order to avoid his own destruction (verse 16).
He argued with the angels of God about fleeing to the wilderness, begging instead to be given refuge in still another city (verses 17-20).
And there was the incident with his daughters that led to births of Moab and Ben-Ammi (verses 30-38).
In spite of all this, Peter calls him righteous Lot and says that his soul was grieved at the wickedness he saw around him.
Peter is clearly using Lot as an example for those of us upon whom the end of the age is coming. But if he is an example, we need to ask, “An example of what?” There are ways we want to be like Lot. I hope we all feel pangs of grief when we see the spiral of depravity that is unravelling Western Civilization. I hope we all desire to become engaged in spreading the light of the Gospel and the salt of the truth of God to our communities. Lot, it can be said, was righteous in that sense, for he saw wickedness and called it such (Genesis 19:7) even though the citizens of that town rejected that characterization.
But that’s not the whole story, nor is it the whole lesson. The experience of Lot spells out a danger, a moral trap, that we who are strangers and aliens in this world need to escape.
Though Lot saw the wickedness surrounding him, he was unaware that the city and its culture had subtly influenced his own thinking and actions. He did not realize that he had unwittingly absorbed some of the values of that culture and that the leaven of Sodom had corrupted and overcome his salt and light. Think about what he says and does in the episode at hand.
He is drawn to the lights of the city.
He offers his daughters as a sexual sop to the mob without a second thought (Genesis 19:8).
His compromises destroy the power of his witness so that even his own family rejects it (verse14).
He calls the angry mob his brethren (verse 7).
He hesitates when ordered to leave and begs to go to another city rather than to a safe place (verse 20).
And then there is the situation with his daughters.
How much of the our culture’s values and attitudes have we, like Lot, come to accept as normal without realizing those values contravene the values of God? What aberrations do we now accept as the normal course of events? Like a fish in water, are we unaware of the water we are in? Are we so used to breathing the polluted atmosphere of our age that we ignore its ability to corrupt our souls?
I believe the conundrum that a righteous Lot who stumbles badly is not a conundrum at all. It’s a lesson in reality. First, it’s a lesson of God’s grace and mercy, but more than that, it’s also a warning: watch out for the leaven of the age. It can influence you more than you can know.

Why Are We Doing This? (Children of God)
With our Christian calling, we have embarked on an arduous and difficult journey. There are few who follow this Way. Why are we doing this? This is the kind of question that challenges our deepest reasons and motivations for serving God in the way that we do.
Why do we hold fast to the Sabbath, the Holy Days and God’s commands? Why are we trying so diligently to grow in the fruit of God’s Spirit? Why do we refuse to jeopardize our faith when others are more willing to compromise? Why, when it comes to The Truth, are we willing to stand against the whole world? Why, in the face of so many attacks, do we hold fast to the doctrines of Christ that we have believed for so long?
Beloved, when I gave all diligence to write unto you of the common salvation, it was needful for me to write unto you, and exhort you that ye should earnestly contend for the faith which was once delivered unto the saints. (Jude 1:3)
We know our lives are finite – our days are fading away. We are mortal, weak, and often helpless. Yet, we have been called by God to be His Children. He has taught us His Way and has given us His Spirit. Yes, but why are we doing it ? Confirming the souls of the disciples, and exhorting them to continue in the faith, and that we must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of God. (Acts 14:22)
Let’s reflect on some of the things we experience as Christians. We deny ourselves – and we enthusiastically bring ourselves into submission. We willingly forsake all that we have. We are put out of the congregation and suffer reproach for the name of Jesus Christ. We intensely walk the strait and narrow path to the Kingdom of God. Yes, but why are we doing it?
And he said to them all, If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me. (Luke 9:23)
Strive to enter in at the strait gate: for many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in, and shall not be able. (Luke 13:24)
So likewise, whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple. (Luke 14:33)
And from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent take it by force. (Matthew 11:12)
For therefore we both labor and suffer reproach, because we trust in the living God, who is the Savior of all men, especially of those that believe. (1 Timothy 4:10)
Why do we do it? What is our motivation? What compels us to do it? We can cite any number of reasons that might help explain our determination to serve God. Are these the reasons we do it?
● Because God has shown us His way, we know it is the right way.
● God has said that we shall see Him and be like He is.
● We want to become more like God, so that we can be His Children.
● God has promised to bless those who serve Him.
● God has threatened to punish all who disobey Him.
The last reason is interesting because it is precisely the wrong reason, per se. Indeed, God is just and right in promising the lake of fire to all who finally refuse to serve and obey Him, but fear itself will not produce the kind of behavior God expects to see in us. Seeking to save our own skin – does not grow into Godly love. In fact, obeying God out of that kind of fear eventually will destroy our faith and cause us to see God wrongly – in the same way as the faithless servant in Christ’s parable of Luke 19. Notice how the unfaithful servant responds to God.
For I feared you, because thou art an austere man: thou take up that thou laid not down, and reap that thou didst not sow. (Luke 19:21)
Because of the servant’s misplaced fear of his master, his assessment of his master was incorrect – and so he became too afraid to serve him properly. We do the same if our primary reason for serving God is fear that He might destroy us.
Here is another interesting question. Would we love and serve our God – even if there were no reward? Would we be willing to give honor and glory, respect and obedience to our creator if we were only like a beautiful flower that gives it’s all – only to fade away forever? Isn’t our great God worthy of all glory – without His having to extend the promise of a reward to us? Perfect love would dictate that we serve Him without the hope of reward.
Here’s the good part! We know that our God loves us, and He created us in order to share His LIFE with us forever. For this purpose, He trains us to be His children so that He might ultimately bless us. God wants us to succeed, and in many ways, to succeed big. Of course, big by His standards! God sent Christ as a sacrifice, and Christ came willingly, because They both want to share eternity with us!
For it is God who works in you both to will and to do His good pleasure. (Philippians 2:13)
I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly. (John 10:10)
Notice Christ’s attitude toward us, His servants, and brothers and sisters!
And I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; neither shall anyone snatch them out of My hand. My Father, who has given them to Me, is greater than all; and no one is able to snatch them out of My Father’s hand. (John 10:28-29)
We love God, because He loved us first. (1 John 4:19) We serve God because He first served us. He is our creator and savior. We serve God because we want to be His Children! We hold fast to the Father’s Truth because we want to please Him and our Lord, Jesus Christ. We want to be counted among the faithful servants of Jesus Christ when He returns. We love Them because They love us.
We are doing this because we are called now to be a part of that better resurrection with Jesus Christ – the inestimable privilege of being in God’s Family.
And this is the promise that He has promised us eternal life. (1 John 2:25)
Why are we doing this? We do this because we are the only people on earth who do know their creator God and who are able to worship Him in sincerity and truth. As though this were not enough – our Father and Jesus Christ want to share their eternal life with us.
For so an entrance shall be ministered unto you abundantly into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. (2 Peter 1:11)

The Great Schism (Morning Companion)
The year 1054 rocked the Christian world, when the Latin church in the West and the Greek Orthodox in the East had their final breach over doctrine and administration. Their disagreements had been brewing for centuries, culminating in the Great Schism, when Pope Leo IX and Patriarch Michael Celuarius excommunicated each other. Historians tell us that the Great Schism resulted from irreconcilable doctrinal differences, including whether the Holy Spirit emanates from the Father alone (the Roman Catholic position) or from both the Father and Son (the Orthodox position). They also disagreed about rules on fasting, the role of icons and statues in places of worship, and whether leavened or unleavened bread were to be used at Communion.
Today we have the luxury of looking back on these problematic disagreements and wonder why these became major points of dispute that festered for hundreds of years even though the two camps agreed on so many other major points of faith. But maybe we shouldn’t wonder.
Times may change, but people don’t.
The Great Schism finds its parallel throughout history across many movements and denominations, including my own. Ostensibly, the fuel behind the split appears to be over different points of doctrinal emphasis which, when seen from the outside, can seem trivial. But after looking at the Great Schism of 1054 from a loftier height and seeing it through the lens of experience, I believe the schisms, both small and great, have nothing to do with doctrine at all. They result from something more fundamental to the the human heart. Rather than being the product of doctrinal disagreement, schisms often are a product of who’s in charge. A power dynamic is at play, and the power in play is not the power of the Holy Spirit.
Professor Gary Rendsberg noticed this dynamic among first century religious groups, which he outlined in his Teaching Company course:
First, there is the “rule of minimal differences”, whereby one group sees as its greatest adversary the group that is closest to it. We saw … this with the Qumran community where it sees itself as the sons of light and the other Jews as the sons of darkness, without concerns for peoples who were even further removed such as the polytheists of the Greco-Roman world.
This “rule of minimal differences” reveals itself in Nazis vs. Marxists, Shia vs. Sunni, and splintering Christian denomination vs. offshoot Christian denomination. Demonization, name calling, lawsuits, wars — all over what appear to be minor points of dispute. The real dispute in the “minimal difference” dynamic is not what is promulgated to the masses in official agitprop statements. The real dispute is power and money. Put plainly, it’s all about who is in charge.
Many of you will recognize this immediately from your own experiences. Recognize it for what it is when you see it. See it, then avoid it.

The Bigger Picture (Sabbath Thoughts)
We can’t see it. We like to tell ourselves that we can, but we can’t. Sometimes, if we position ourselves just right, we can bolster our perspective and see a situation from new angles or in a new light. But the bigger picture? Your body is made up of roughly seven octillion atoms. That’s 7,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 particles, each invisible to the naked eye, linked and joined together in just the right way to guarantee your continued existence. Zoom the camera in closer and you’ll see an even stranger world of subatomic particles populated by quarks, leptons, and bosons, all interacting according to rules that fly in the face of anything that makes sense on a macro level. Zoom the camera out and you’ll find 118 flavors of atoms combining and separating and recombining into countless formations, structures, and states, eventually resolving into the world we call home. On that world, you’ll find complex and varied biomes, ecosystems, food webs, weather systems, tectonic activity, and magnetic fields that are linked together in ways we’re still discovering.
Keep zooming out, and you’ll find a little blue-green planet hurtling around a giant, erupting sphere of thermonuclear fusion surrounded by a handful of other spectacularly unique planets, each with their own rotational speeds and axial tilts.
Zoom out some more and you’ll see a galaxy stuffed full of these stars and solar systems, all arrayed in a cosmic spiral peppered with gratuitous amounts of space rock and stardust that spins and rotates but never comes undone.
And that’s just one galaxy in a universe that, as near as we can tell, is expanding with increasing speed against – what appear to be the boundaries of this physical reality.
Oh, and it’s stuffed with dark matter, which we think makes up 85% of the universe even though we can’t see it or directly interact with it, so there’s that. You want the real kicker? That’s not even the bigger picture. That’s just the canvas. No. Not even that. That’s just a freeze-frame of the canvas.
The bigger picture is painted across 6,000 years of human history, and it encompasses the inner struggles of every human who has ever lived, all tied into the rise and fall of political dynasties, conquering empires, and world religions. Every word, every thought, every movement plays into everything that has happened, is happening, and will happen.
And God sees all of it. All the time.
He can’t just see all of that canvas – He designed it. Built it from nothing. And He has a plan for the picture being painted across its surface. He understands how every stroke will lead into the next, and He is guiding it to become the finished masterpiece He had in mind since before the foundation of the earth. That’s the bigger picture.
You can’t see it. Neither can I. We get glimpses, and God gives us all the instruction and direction we need to be an effective part of it, but the true, full, complete bigger picture?
If we held even a fragment of that picture in our minds for a single moment, our brains would fry. Consider that the holy day plan itself only takes us to just beyond the end of the human race, when death is cast away and all things are made new. We don’t know what comes after that. We don’t know what eternity really looks like. I doubt we could even begin to comprehend it.
“For My thoughts are not your thoughts,
Nor are your ways My ways,” says the LORD.
“For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
So are My ways higher than your ways,
And My thoughts than your thoughts.
“For as the rain comes down, and the snow from heaven,
And do not return there,
But water the earth,
And make it bring forth and bud,
That it may give seed to the sower
And bread to the eater,
So shall My word be that goes forth from My mouth;
It shall not return to Me void,
But it shall accomplish what I please,
And it shall prosper in the thing for which I sent it.” (Isaiah 55:8-11)
A huge part of being a Christian means trusting God with the bigger picture – and more importantly, trusting that even when we think we can see it, we really can’t. We are each of us but a single bundle of seven octillion atoms on a planet of nearly eight billion other bundles of atoms. None of us has the perspective or the brain power required to hold the bigger picture in our head – but that’s okay. We don’t need to. It’s enough to know that God can – and does. And then, in turn, He gives us the framework and guidance we need to make the decisions we need to make and live the life we need to live while we wait for Him to finish the painting.
Because one day, we’re going to stand beside Him, made fully in His image, thinking like He thinks and seeing as He sees. And when He shows us that same masterpiece through a new set of eyes, complete with a mind to fully comprehend what we’re looking at – to appreciate the perfect wisdom and the beauty of each stroke – I can only imagine there will be a single thought to express:
“Of course it had to be this way. Thank You for letting me be part of it.”

The Bible and Counterfeits : Marx and Rousseau (Morning Companion) 
Somewhere I read an odd though intriguing idea that Marxism at its core is a Christian heresy. Both Christianity and Marxism profess concern for the poor and disadvantaged. Both Christianity and Marxism indict the abuse of wealth and power. And both Christianity and Marxism envision a future when all oppression ceases. That rubric explains the strange mix of Christianity and Marxism known today as Liberation Theology. That interesting marriage of ideas strikes me as odd given the incompatibility of their founding principles. Christianity and Marxism are two competing world views, both of which have their origins in Western Civilization. One has its roots in Babylon and the other in Christianity. One is a counterfeit of the other. 
Author Nancy Pearcy in her book Total Truth: Liberating Christianity from Its Cultural Captivity (Crossway Books, © 2004) points out that every world view has a few basic principles that can be summarized as:
1. How did it all begin? 
2. What went wrong? 
3. What can we do about it? 
In a Biblical context you’ll recognize this as: 
1. The creation story (In the beginning God …)
2. The fall (sin enters the world) 
3. Redemption through Jesus, culminating in the Kingdom of God on Earth. 
Other world views follow a similar pattern. Take as an example Jean-Jacques Rousseau, an intellectual father of the French Revolution. His basic philosophical principles could be summarized as follows: 
1. Origin: The State of Nature. “Man is born free and everywhere he is in chains.”
Pearcy explains that Rousseau “did not mean chains of political oppression, as we might think: For Rousseau, the really oppressive relationships were personal ones, like marriage, family, church, and workplace.” (Page 138) 
2. The Fall: Society and Civilization. For Rousseau society and civilization and its attendant institutions (such as marriage, family, church, workplace) force artificial and arbitrary constraints on our freedom, thereby taking away personal autonomy. 
3. Redemption: The State. While it might seem paradoxical, Rousseau’s solution was to impose freedom through a powerful state that supplants all social ties and institutions, thus releasing, as Pearcy puts it, the individual from loyalty to anything but the state. In Rousseau’s words, “Each citizen would then be completely independent of all his fellow men, and absolutely dependent on the state.” 
I mention Rousseau first because of his influence on the thinking of Karl Marx, and not just Marx, but a slew of despots who have come since, including Lenin, Hitler, and Pol Pot.  In fact much of what we see in Western governance today, even in so-called democratic societies, resembles what Rousseau envisioned: A powerful state that seeks to bring all intermediary institutions under its control, demanding conformity, dependence, and loyalty to the prevailing wisdom and care of the state, now the source of all wisdom and goodness.   
Karl Marx’s philosophical principles can be summarized as follows:
1. Origin: Self-creating and self-generating matter, i.e., Darwinian Evolution.
Pearcy: “In Marxism, we are defined by the way we relate to matter — the way we manipulate it and make things out of it to meet our needs.”
Thus Marxism views the world through the lens of economic theory. 
2. The Fall: Private Property. The original paradise was a primitive communism. There was no private property. Everything was held in common. The moral failure of the fall was not in human nature, but in the advent of private property. As Pearcy says, “[Marx] locates evil in social and economic relations; thus the solution is to change those relations through revolution. Marxism assumes that human nature can be transformed simply by changing external social structures.” 
3. Redemption: Revolution. Overthrow the oppressors and recreate the original paradise of primitive communism. It is here that we can queue John Lennon’s Imagine. But, as we know, in practice the state does not wither away, as Marx promised. Instead the state becomes an all-powerful Orwellian nightmare. 
Notice that these three world views have distinctive perceptions of human nature. 
Rousseau assumed that human nature is neutral, a blank slate on which society writes and forms. In his redeemed world the state is empowered to eliminate the social structure and impose freedom on people whether they liked it or not. They must be forced to be free. 
Marx assumed that human nature is good and only needs to be freed from the shackles of those who own the means of production. 
The Biblical world view teaches that God created the human race and proclaimed it good (Genesis 1:31), but we as a race have “sought out many schemes” (Ecclesiastes 7:29 NKJV).  Thus the Biblical view emphasizes the role that sin plays in the nature of evil and the need for individuals to be redeemed from their own sins. Unlike Rousseau and Marx, the fault for our fall is pinned on us as individuals rather on society (as Rousseau taught) or private property (as Marx taught).  The corruption of our own human nature is brought about by our own sins. It forces us to look at our own role in what ails us rather looking for enemies elsewhere. Thus we humans are not mere pawns in the flow of history (Marx) or creatures of the state (Rousseau). We have agency and inherent dignity. The fault is not in the stars, but in ourselves. 
We’ll conclude here with two quotes that illustrate the world view as expressed Hugo Chavez, the late dictator of Venezuela, and a contrasting world view as stated by Sarah Palin.
Hugo Chavez: “Those who want to go directly to hell, they can follow capitalism. And those of us who want to build heaven on earth, we will follow socialism.” (Hugo Chavez)
Sarah Palin: “We don’t believe that human nature is perfectible; we’re suspicious of government efforts to fix problems because often what it’s trying to fix is human nature, and that is impossible. It is what it is. But that doesn’t mean that we’re resigned to any negative destiny. Not at all. I believe in striving for the ideal, but in realistic confines of human nature…
“The opposite of a common-sense conservative is a liberalism that holds that there is no human problem that government can’t fix if only the right people are put in charge. Unfortunately, history and common sense are not on its side. We don’t trust utopian promises; we deal with human nature as it is.”

An Enemy to be Feared (Sabbath Meditations)
My best friend from my college days has died after battling cancer for a number of years. He and I were the same age, he only a few months older. Of the two of us, he was the more athletic, the more energetic, the more full of life. People like him aren’t supposed to get sick … aren’t supposed to die early. Yet he did, and he has. Death doesn’t discriminate.
It’s hard to wrap my mind around the thoughts my friend must have had in the last weeks of his life; the fear he must have experienced, the uncertainly of how long he had left and finally the resignation and realization that his battle was ending. He was a Christian, with a hope, an assurance, of a life hereafter. I know it gave Him comfort.
Death is a difficult concept to grasp for most of us. It’s hard to imagine not being here, existing, breathing. It’s hard to imagine no consciousness, no being. God tells us in His word that He has put eternity in our hearts. Maybe that’s why the concept of death is so hard for us to fathom. It’s not a natural state for us. It’s foreign to the purpose for which we have been created. Our natural state is to be alive, to be eternal. That, God’s word teaches us, is our destiny.
Well meaning Christians tell us we shouldn’t fear death. I think they are wrong. Death is to be feared. Death is darkness, death is separation from all that we know, both physical and spiritual. There’s nothing positive about death. I think perhaps the most dreaded words uttered by God in the entire Bible were when He said to Adam and Eve, “… you shall surely die.” Of course, it’s possible our ancient parents didn’t understand the meaning of it as do we, their children. They had not as yet experienced the death of someone they loved, someone they cared about. They weren’t yet fully aware of their own vulnerability. Had they fully understood it, perhaps they may have thought twice before sinking their teeth into that piece of fruit, no matter how tempting.
The Bible says that a day will come when the earth will give up its’ dead. Death itself will be thrown in the lake of fire. We’re told it’s the final enemy that will be destroyed when our Savior returns. Just think of it; no more suffering, no more fear, no more uncertainty, no more mourning, no more tragic endings.
I’d like to be there when it is finally put down, as it gasps its’ last breath. It deserves all it gets. It’s taken some good people in its’ time. A few of them, like my friend, whom I knew and loved. I’m looking forward to getting them, and him, back. I take joy in knowing its’ days are numbered.

The Comfort of a Psalm (Morning Companion)
September 7, 1774. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Delegates for the First Continental Congress gathered at Carpenter’s Hall, setting in motion events that would lead to the fight for Independence. Their first act as Congress was to pray. It is said that many delegates, including George Washington, fell on their knees, asking for God’s guidance for their endeavor. Legend has it that their prayer and recitation of the 35th Psalm could be heard blocks away. Mark Batterson in his book Draw the Circle: The 40 Day Prayer Challenge says that the “pastor who led them in prayer that morning was Dr. Jacob Duche. The Scripture he turned to? Psalm 35. He prayed that just as the Lord contended for David, God would contend for the cause if it were a righteous one, Dr. Duche’s prayer is more than just a piece of history; it’s a piece of destiny.” Here is the transcript of his prayer: 
O Lord our Heavenly Father, high and mighty King of kings, and Lord of lords, who dost from thy throne behold all the dwellers on earth and reignest with power supreme and uncontrolled over all the Kingdoms, Empires and Governments; look down in mercy, we beseech Thee, on these our American States, who have fled to Thee from the rod of the oppressor and thrown themselves on Thy gracious protection, desiring to be henceforth dependent only on Thee. To Thee have they appealed for the righteousness of their cause; to Thee do they now look up for that countenance and support, which Thou alone canst give. Take them, therefore, Heavenly Father, under Thy nurturing care; give them wisdom in Council and valor in the field; defeat the malicious designs of our cruel adversaries; convince them of the unrighteousness of their Cause and if they persist in their sanguinary purposes, of own unerring justice, sounding in their hearts, constrain them to drop the weapons of war from their unnerved hands in the day of battle! 
Be Thou present, O God of wisdom, and direct the councils of this honorable assembly; enable them to settle things on the best and surest foundation. That the scene of blood may be speedily closed; that order, harmony and peace may be effectually restored, and truth and justice, religion and piety, prevail and flourish amongst the people. Preserve the health of their bodies and vigor of their minds; shower down on them and the millions they here represent, such temporal blessings as Thou seest expedient for them in this world and crown them with everlasting glory in the world to come. All this we ask in the name and through the merits of Jesus Christ, Thy Son and our Savior. Amen. 
Reverend Jacob Duché, Rector of Christ Church of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
September 7, 1774, 9 o’clock a.m. 
When I read about this bit of history and that he chose that Psalm as the prelude to his prayer, I turned to Psalm 35. A few excerpts from Psalm 35: 
Plead my cause, O LORD, with them that strive with me: fight against them that fight against me. Take hold of shield and buckler, and stand up for mine help. Draw out also the spear, and stop the way against them that persecute me: say unto my soul, I am thy salvation. Let them be confounded and put to shame that seek after my soul: let them be turned back and brought to confusion that devise my hurt. Let them be as chaff before the wind: and let the angel of the LORD chase them. Let their way be dark and slippery: and let the angel of the LORD persecute them. (vv. 1-6) 
Stir up thyself, and awake to my judgment, even unto my cause, my God and my Lord. Judge me, O LORD my God, according to thy righteousness; and let them not rejoice over me. Let them not say in their hearts, Ah, so would we have it: let them not say, We have swallowed him up. Let them be ashamed and brought to confusion together that rejoice at mine hurt: let them be clothed with shame and dishonour that magnify themselves against me. Let them shout for joy, and be glad, that favour my righteous cause: yea, let them say continually, Let the LORD be magnified, which hath pleasure in the prosperity of his servant. And my tongue shall speak of thy righteousness and of thy praise all the day long. (vv. 23 – 26) 
As I read this, I realized how much our world needs this prayer for favor for righteous causes and for God to have our backs when we face danger we cannot control (Isaiah 41:13). 
Read the Psalm. Think about it. Pray over it as Dr. Duche did. Call for God’s intervention against the forces of darkness as did David. Call for judgment upon them and protection from them. When times seem uncertain and frightful and the enemies of freedom are ascending, it is well to recognize that God has a plan he is working on here below.

Thy Will and My Will (Sabbath Thoughts)
Given the choice, how would you run your life? And I’m not talking about the freedom you already have to make decisions and pursue goals—I’m talking about having the power to control what happens to you. Would you choose to receive a vast inheritance from some heretofore unknown and eccentric uncle? Would you catapult yourself into the limelight, basking in the adoration of a million admirers? Would you have your siblings ambush you and sell you into slavery and then have your new master’s wife falsely accuse you of attempting fornication with her only to result in your unjust incarceration for several years? 
If that last option sounds a little less than palatable, then congratulations, your sanity is more or less intact. There is absolutely nothing enticing about that last scenario, and certainly it would be one of the farthest choices from our minds if we had the ability to control the happenings of our day-to-day lives—and yet, you may recognize that same unfortunate chain of events as belonging to the story of one of God’s most famous servants.
It’s not that Joseph asked for a life filled with servitude, false accusations, and time in the slammer. No one in their right mind asks for those kind of things—but a good portion of his story looks like a rollercoaster where every “up” teases the promise of stability and improvement right before plunging even deeper into a worrisome abyss of despair. 
If you’re unfamiliar with Joseph’s story (Genesis 37-50), here’s the abridged version: Because of Joseph’s status as his father’s favorite son, along with a couple visions that cast his siblings in a less-than-favorable light, Joseph’s brothers sell him into slavery and convince their father that Joseph was killed by a wild animal. Joseph prospers in his new home, quickly finding himself placed in charge of all his master’s goods, until his master’s wife tries to seduce him (repeatedly), fails (repeatedly), and then frames him as a would-be rapist. Joseph is thrown in prison where, again, he prospers and is placed in charge of essentially running the jail. While incarcerated, he interprets the dreams of two other prisoners, correctly predicting that one would be pardoned and the other, executed. Joseph asks the soon-to-be-pardoned cupbearer to put in a good word to Pharaoh on his behalf, and the cupbearer happily agrees. 
Oh, and then forgets about that agreement. For two years. Eventually the Pharaoh has two distressing dreams, and the cupbearer conveniently has an epiphany—he knows the perfect guy for the job! He’s not hard to find, on account of still being locked up in the royal jailhouse.
There’s more to the story, but I want to stop here for a minute because I’ve left out a very important detail. It’s one of the most important details of Joseph’s entire story, and the Bible mentions it twice: namely, “the Lord was with Joseph” (Genesis 39:2, 21). The specific times this phrase is used are interesting as well—the first is during his time as a slave, and the second is during his time in prison. We don’t read, “and the Lord left Joseph in prison and decided to check on him in about two years,” because that isn’t how God works. He was there. Every step of Joseph’s misfortune-prone journey, God was there, helping Joseph to succeed wherever he found himself. 
God didn’t abandon Joseph. He was with Joseph, most notably during the moments that made the least sense to him. I can only imagine how much time Joseph spent in deep personal reflection. Early on in life, God had shown him visions a future where his brothers would bow down to him. Did he ever start to question those visions? Did he ever start to question God? Because I think I would have a hard time not wondering whether or not God was still with me if I were in Joseph’s shoes. Which is exactly why the Bible gives us an emphatic yes—even in the darkest, most perplexing hours of Joseph’s life, God was present … anand He was working out a plan.
The rest of Joseph’s story reveals that God was using these pitfalls in Joseph’s life to bring about something grander than anyone involved could have ever imagined. His brothers’ betrayal allowed him to become the slave of a high-ranking Egyptian official. His imprisonment allowed him to enter the prison where he would meet Pharaoh’s cupbearer. The cupbearer’s delay in pleading Joseph’s case allowed Joseph to emerge from prison at the perfect time to interpret Pharaoh’s dreams. 
That dream was a warning from God about an impending famine in the land of Egypt, and after having this explained to him, Pharaoh installed Joseph as the second greatest authority in all the land. Through Joseph’s inspired planning, Egypt and surrounding nations were saved from a seven-year famine that would have otherwise decimated countless lives. Among those lives were those of his brothers, his father, and other family members—brothers who, incidentally, bowed to this strange Egyptian man they failed to recognize as the brother they sold all those years ago. 
So now for the obvious question: why this way? Why all the hardship? Couldn’t God have just inspired Pharaoh to put Joseph in charge from the beginning? Yeah, I suppose. But there would be a couple problems with that timeline. Who knows how Joseph would have handled all that power if he hadn’t spent time in charge of both Potiphar’s household and the royal prison? Those experiences taught him both humility and organization. Also, by the end of the story we see a marked change in Joseph’s brothers—Judah, who proposed selling Joseph, is now willing to become a slave himself to rescue young Benjamin. Would that character growth have occurred any other way, or would they have just hated Joseph even more than before? 
It’s clear even at first glance that the way God organized things was to everyone’s benefit—to Joseph’s, his family’s, and even the surrounding nations’. God took what would have been an unfortunate situation and shaped it into a series of events that ultimately led to something incredible. Joseph himself recognized this by the end, telling his brothers, “But as for you, you meant evil against me; but God meant it for good, in order to bring it about as it is this day, to save many people alive. Now therefore, do not be afraid; I will provide for you and your little ones” (Genesis 50:20-21).
The little snippets you and I glimpse of God’s plan in our lives so often don’t make sense to us because from our tiny human vantage point, we can’t see the bigger picture. We can’t see the future steps—we see the here and now. Joseph didn’t know why God allowed him to become a slave, or why God allowed him to be thrown into jail for a crime he didn’t even commit, but here’s the thing: God did. God knew why He was allowing each and every mome nt in Joseph’s life—like a master chess player, God had a goal in mind and was actively moving Joseph toward it. It’s probably not the path Joseph would have chosen for himself, given the choice. Who would have? As we noted earlier, there’s nothing appealing about all those hardships—but when we look at the bigger picture, it becomes apparent that although it wasn’t the path we might have chosen, it was in fact the best path. 
How many times have you and I wondered why God is allowing something in our lives? How many times have we grown anxious that what He’s letting us go through isn’t what’s best for us? How many times have we looked at the path God has set us on and wished we could do some course-correcting? 
One of the proverbs preserved in the pages of the Bible reminds us, “A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps” (Proverbs 16:9). We can plan our lives out all we like, but God is the one who ultimately decides what happens and what doesn’t. There’s nothing wrong with having plans, but those plans need to end with the contingency Christ gave to his prayer in the garden: “nevertheless, not as I will, but as You will” (Matthew 26:39). 
If the story of Joseph teaches us anything, let it be this: let us understand that we can’t see as God sees. We can’t see the trillion different possibilities stemming from each step we take, but God can trace each one down to its finish line. We can’t see the end of our plans; God can see the end of His. No, not everything God allows to happen in our lives is going to make sense, but it is only because we lack His perfect vantage point. It is never a failure of planning on His end, but a failure to see ahead on ours. When we submit our lives to God’s will and refrain from fighting Him at every curve, we will find not only a life of fulfillment, but a life with a greater ending than you and I could ever comprehend. No matter how perplexing, no matter how dark the moment, God will be there to guide us every step of the way. 
God shaped Joseph into a ruler of Egypt. He’s shaping us into kings and priests of the universe. Is any path to that destiny not worth taking?

Progressing to Misery (Morning Companion)
Keeping up with the news these days is about as distressing as watching a slow-motion train wreck. One can sense disaster coming, but it seems there is little most of us can do. But we need to remember, in the spirit of Jesus’s command to love our enemies, that these masked bandits are really miserable human beings. By miserable, I am speaking of their psychological state. The anger, the hatred, the foul language, the violence — these things are signs of tortured souls, a sight to behold in a country that has more blessings than any in history.
We can leave it to the professional society watchers to attempt a psychoanalysis of all the factors that lead to such misery, but an adjunct to that analysis should be a good heavy dose of solid theology. Clearly these people seem to have a big hole in their hearts that they are trying to fill with something meaningful. Somewhere along the way they latched on to scorning and mocking, a cynicism about all things traditional, and that root of bitterness grows into a parasite that destroys its host. Author Mitch Albom said it this way:
“Learn this from me. Holding anger is a poison. It eats you from inside. We think that hating is a weapon that attacks the person who harmed us. But hatred is a curved blade. And the harm we do, we do to ourselves.”
Albom is right. Anger eats from the inside. It might satisfy some inner craving at first. The hit of hormones and energy can be as invigorating as any addiction, but eventually all that will be left of the host is a bare skeleton that resembles that of an ogre instead of a human being.
Usually, the distortion of souls takes place over a period of time. The first verse of the 1st Psalm hints at how the pathway into that pit can happen.
Blessed is the man who walks not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor stands in the path of sinners, nor sits in the seat of the scornful.
Notice here that the Psalmist is describing a progression. He is describing a process by which someone can become ensnared into the camp of the cynics. Note the three verbs “walks”, “stands”, and “sits”. We can take this as a progression.
First, we see a picture of an individual who is walking by and encounters a group of “ungodly” men.
Then he stops walking, and we see him standing in front the sinners, no doubt listening to their grumbling and protesting. Rotten thinking is contagious. We become like the people we hang out with the most, and this man is beginning to hang out with people who fill his head with the poison of negativity.
Finally, we see him sitting right there with these scoffers and scorners. He has joined the mob, becoming one of them, injecting poison into his own mind.
Much of what we see today is the fruit of our cynical age that was seeded long ago, and it is progressing now to where many are sitting in the seat of the scornful. People will search for meaning in their lives and too often find that meaning through focusing their scorn at what they perceive as the source of their pain. Too often what they perceive as the source is nothing more than a projection of their own neuroses on to others. Our culture’s march toward nihilism has robbed people of transcendent purpose, and that hole in the soul leads to where we are. If there is no transcendent purpose in life, if all we have are our threescore and ten, and after that oblivion, then let’s just eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die.
That kind of existence can’t possibly be satisfying for anyone, but the counsels of the ungodly lead inexorably to that mindset. In a world full of scorn, our world becomes what we have.
In the final analysis we witness today the result of a people with no awareness of transcendent truth. In our milieu everyone is said to have their own “truth”. An ideology like that must end in a cognitive dissonance that leads to frustration. When Jesus stood before Pilate and told him that he had come into the world to bear witness to the truth, Pilate’s cynical reply can be heard today in the halls of the educated: “What is truth?” It says a lot about Pilate’s cynicism when we see that he did not wait for an answer to his question. Instead he turned around and walked out of the room (John 19:37-38). So many today who sit among the scorners would do the same.
There really is a God-shaped hole in our being, and the purpose God has for us can fill it. Read the Book and learn what that purpose is. If you are looking for a new road to walk that bypasses the counsel of the ungodly and the seat of the scorners, begin with the last verses of the book of Ecclesiastes:
Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter. Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is man’s all. (Ecclesiastes 12:13)
Or in the words of Jesus, Seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you. That is the beginning of a journey down the right path. But remember: that’s only the beginning.

Avoiding Spiritual Big Baby Syndrome (Sabbath Meditations)
Several years ago I underwent major surgery to repair a full thickness tear to a portion of the rotator cuff in my left shoulder. Eight weeks out of surgery, other than opening and closing my hand, my left arm was pretty much useless. I’d been told to expect anywhere from six to twelve months of therapy to regain full mobility and strength in my shoulder. Little did I know just how excruciatingly painful and frustrating that process would be.
Now I’d like to think that I’m a pretty tough guy, but Dr. Karla, my incredibly demanding, yet amazingly patient physical therapist, would tell you that, when it comes to therapy on my arm, I might as well put on a pair of diapers, curl up in the fetal position and suck my thumb. The excruciating physical and mental pain involved in getting this arm moving again pretty much turned me into a cry baby.
An interesting thought occurred to me one day, after leaving one of Dr. Karla’s torture sessions. My determination and commitment to going through this process, enduring this agonizing pain was motivated by a desire to get back something I had lost, something that is dear to me. I was sacrificing a lot to get it back: my time, my energy, my comfort. An immense amount of my life’s focus in these months had been on doing whatever it took to get this arm moving again. But the sacrifice, the focus, was worth it because not to do so would mean never having the use of my arm again.
But what if I had never known the full use of my arm? What if I’d never known all of the amazing potential this part of my body had? Would I be as focused, would I be as willing to endure hardship so that someday I could use it to its full potential?
In Hebrews 11 we read, “By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to the place which he would receive as an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing where he was going. By faith he dwelt in the land of promise as in a foreign country, dwelling in tents with Isaac and Jacob, the heirs with him of the same promise; for he waited for the city which has foundations, whose builder and maker is God … These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off were assured of them, embraced them and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth.”
Assured. There’s powerful meaning wrapped up in that word.
Why was Abraham willing to give up everything, leaving the comfort and safety of Haran to wander around in a hostile, foreign land? What possessed him?
He was assured.
The promises God had given him were so real to him, so vivid, it’s as if, in his heart and his mind, he had already experienced them. He was so completely assured of what lay ahead that there was no sacrifice or hardship great enough to keep him from moving toward that sure vision.
In Romans 8:18-25 Paul writes of that vision, “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us … we ourselves groan within ourselves, eagerly waiting for the adoption, the redemption of our body. For we were saved in this hope, but hope that is seen is not hope; for why does one still hope for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we eagerly wait for it with perseverance.”
How real is that future hope within me? How strong is my faith in that vision? Do I eagerly yearn and groan for it? Am I so assured in my heart and mind of that vision that the thought of giving up, being content with just this existence, apart from God, is unthinkable? Or, do I sometimes lose heart? Do I sometimes feel like giving up and assuming the fetal position?
In II Corinthians 4:16-18 we read, “Therefore we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal.”
Big baby that I am when it comes to physical pain, I was not about to stop going to my twice weekly torture sessions with Dr. Karla. Regaining the use of just one body part kept me committed to the process, willing to do whatever it takes.
One day we’ll exchange these frail, perishing physical bodies for perfect, immortal ones that will never grow weak, never fail or be in need of repair. Yes, there will be some pain getting there. Yes, there will be some affliction to be endured. But don’t lose heart. Be assured, these hardships we endure are working in us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. Let that vision give us power to persevere through the pain. Let it help us resist the fetal position and keep us committed to the process – whatever it takes.

Do The Work (Sabbath Thoughts)
From an agricultural perspective, Pentecost makes perfect sense. It’s the Feast of the Firstfruits – and firstfruits take time. They have to be planted, they need to be cared for, they have to be watered and nurtured. They need time to grow and come to fruition.
The time between the Last Day of Unleavened Bread and the Feast of Pentecost is a reminder that we need to be growing – not waiting. You’re not where you need to be yet, and neither am I. We need to be taking every opportunity to grow in grace and knowledge, to cast aside the sin which so easily ensnares us, and to develop into the spiritual firstfruits God would have us become.
Pentecost itself, though – I think Pentecost is a reminder of something else:
We have work to do. It’s so easy to turn the cycle of personal growth into a way to hide. Self-examination means we’re confronted with our own flaws again and again – the reasons we’re not good enough, the ways we’re falling short of where we should be, the reasons God can’t use us.
And then we’re Moses, standing in front of the burning bush and explaining to God why His plan won’t work because, hey, let’s be honest, we’re just not the right person for the job. We’re so far from where we need to be; we have so much more growing to do before we’re ready to …
And then God tells us to quit making excuses and to go do the work. When Moses told God he wasn’t a good public speaker, God replied, “Who has made man’s mouth? Or who makes the mute, the deaf, the seeing, or the blind? Have not I, the Lord? Now therefore, go, and I will be with your mouth and teach you what you shall say” (Exodus 4:11-12).
When Jeremiah told God, “I cannot speak, for I am a youth,” God replied, “Do not say, ‘I am a youth,’ for you shall go to all to whom I send you, and whatever I command you, you shall speak. Do not be afraid of their faces, for I am with you to deliver you” (Jeremiah 1:6-8).
God knows who you are. He knows your weaknesses and your limitations – and He has a job for you to do. When we tell God all the reasons we can’t, He tells us all the reasons He can. Then He tells us to get to work.
We don’t get excuses with God. He made us; He formed us; He knows exactly what we’re capable of – and, more importantly, He knows exactly what He’s capable of.
Christianity is, in many ways, intensely personal. It’s about self-examination and how you’re growing as an individual. But Christianity isn’t compartmentalized, either. It’s not a matter of me growing quietly over here while my neighbor grows quietly over there, and we’ll just exchange pleasantries when our paths happen to cross.
God gave the Church work to do – and the Church is you. It’s me. It’s the entire assembly of God’s called-out ones, not just a handful of people working at a headquarters or home office. We all have different roles to play, for “there are diversities of gifts, but the same Spirit. There are differences of ministries, but the same Lord. And there are diversities of activities, but it is the same God who works all in all. But the manifestation of the Spirit is given to each one for the profit of all” (1 Corinthians 12:4-7).
We have work to do, you and I – and Pentecost reminds us to get to it.
When Peter gave his sermon on that fateful Pentecost, he got a response. His audience was “cut to the heart” and determined to find out the answer to an important question:
“Men and brethren, what shall we do?” (Acts 2:37).
Peter gave them the initial steps: repent, be baptized, receive the Holy Spirit. But it doesn’t stop there. Any veteran of the Church knows that receiving the Holy Spirit is only the beginning of the work; only the first step into a much grander and much bigger world.
Skip down a few verses, and you’ll find that “the Lord added to the church daily those who were being saved” (Acts 2:47). Why do you think that was? Was it only Peter’s ability to deliver sermons that stirred people to action? Or did it have anything to do with the Church members who “ate their food with gladness and simplicity of heart, praising God and having favor with all the people” (Acts 2:46-47)?
Which had the greater impact – one extremely effective speaker, or 3,000 lives all setting an example of Godly living for their friends and families and even enemies to see?
I think God used both those avenues to accomplish some incredible things, and I think it’s a powerful reminder that as members of the Body of Christ, the work we must do extends so far beyond just showing up for services once a week.
“You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:14-16).
Light. Good works. We can’t stay forever in a loop of self-examination. Eventually, we have to stop navel-gazing and start doing, being “diligent to present yourself approved to God, a worker who does not need to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth” (2 Timothy 2:15).
Our internal growth must result in action.
Passover teaches us to begin. Unleavened Bread tells us to keep going. And Pentecost has a message for us, too: No more excuses. No more delaying. No more hiding. 

The Model Nation That Wasn’t (Sabbath Thoughts)
On the cusp of the Promised Land, Moses told the Israelites,
See, I have taught you statutes and rules, as the LORD my God commanded me, that you should do them in the land that you are entering to take possession of it. Keep them and do them, for that will be your wisdom and your understanding in the sight of the peoples, who, when they hear all these statutes, will say, “Surely this great nation is a wise and understanding people.” For what great nation is there that has a god so near to it as the LORD our God is to us, whenever we call upon him? And what great nation is there, that has statutes and rules so righteous as all this law that I set before you today?
Only take care, and keep your soul diligently, lest you forget the things that your eyes have seen, and lest they depart from your heart all the days of your life. Make them known to your children and your children’s children – how on the day that you stood before the LORD your God at Horeb, the LORD said to me, “Gather the people to me, that I may let them hear my words, so that they may learn to fear me all the days that they live on the earth, and that they may teach their children so.” (Deuteronomy 4:5-10, ESV)
For a brief moment in human history, Israel was uniquely positioned to do something no nation has ever had the opportunity to do, before or since.
They could have shown the world what it looks like to be the people of God. They could have shown the world what it looks like to “love the LORD your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength” (Deuteronomy 6:5) and what it looks like to “love your neighbor as yourself” (Leviticus 19:18). In a world filled with abominations and wicked acts that would make our skin crawl today, Israel had the chance to make such an impact on the nations around them that the people around them would marvel at their wisdom and their intelligence.
That didn’t happen.
It took a single generation for Israel to do the exact opposite – to immerse themselves in the wickedness around them and leave behind the perfect, righteous laws given to them by God (Judges 2:7-15).
The rest is history. The nation had its occasional high points, but they were few and far between. From Exodus to the end of the Old Testament, Israel’s history is largely one of wasted potential and squandered opportunities. The chosen people of God ignored their purpose until there was no purpose left to ignore.
I said that no nation before or since has had the opportunity to do be what Israel could have been. That’s true. But there are people with that opportunity: You. Me. Thousands upon thousands of our brothers and sisters around the world. We have the chance to do what Israel didn’t – just by choosing to do the right things.
We don’t need to be loud. Or ostentatious. Or confrontational. We just need to do the things God tells us to do. And you know what happens when we do?
People see.
They see us living a life that is fundamentally different than the lives around us, they see it being fueled by a Spirit that is fundamentally different than the spirits around us, and even if they violently disagree with who we are and what we do, they see. They take notice.
It won’t make sense right now. It doesn’t have to and we don’t have to shove it in anyone’s face.
We just have to live it. When it’s easy, when it’s hard, when it’s challenged, when it’s ignored – it doesn’t matter. We live it because it’s right and good and we believe it and we want it.
“You are the light of the world,” Jesus told His disciples told us. “A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:14-16).
That light flickers when we do what Israel did – when we immerse ourselves so deeply into the things of this world that it’s hard to spot the difference. That city on the hill gets a lot easier to hide when we start lowering ourselves and participating in the same shouting, the same name-calling, the same underhanded, dishonorable tactics that the world around us is using.
Oh, brethren. The world is fuming right now, and about so many things. It’s so tempting to throw ourselves into those angry debates, to take a stand for truth, to shout down everyone who can’t see what we see. But will they see lights when we do that? Will they see cities on hills?
Fighting the good fight as a soldier of God means remembering that “we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Ephesians 6:12). That’s our fight. That’s where our attention and focus needs to be – the illness, not the symptoms.
Keep fighting that good fight. Keep living the right life. Others are going to see that – and one day, it will make a difference.
“For what great nation is there that has a god so near to it as the LORD our God is to us, whenever we call upon him? And what great nation is there, that has statutes and rules so righteous as all this law that I set before you today? Only take care, and keep your soul diligently, lest you forget the things that your eyes have seen, and lest they depart from your heart all the days of your life.”
Israel didn’t keep its soul diligently.
We can and we must.

Which New World Order Are You Talking About? (Morning Companion) 
Note: Rarely do I make a foray into the important topic of prophecy. Over the last 50 years or so I have heard hundreds of prophetic pronouncements, including dates and places, most of which have had little more than an inkling of coming to pass. Not desiring to be one of those would-be prophets who has to rationalize away a failed prediction, my approach has been to expect insight into Bible prophecy when we need to know it.
I am making an exception here because someone recently asked me if I believe there is a New World Order. My thoughts on that are more complex than a simple yes or no answer. Hence what you see below.

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Commonly accepted theology, especially in regard to eschatology (fancy word for “end time events), isn’t always right. The lens through which we view current events determines how we interpret them, and an incomplete or cloudy lens can lead us to miss some key elements. 
One such lens that is commonly embraced is not wrong, but it is incomplete. It’s based on passages in the prophets and Revelation about a brutal superpower at the end time that conquers many nations and imposes authoritarian rule on its subjects (Examples: Daniel 2:40-43, 8:23-25, Revelation 13:1-10, etc.). This beast of a power would prohibit freedoms we take for granted, including freedom of speech and religion. Many have connected these prophecies to a Eurocentric New World Order bent on world domination. 
That idea is nothing to quibble over, but there is more to the story. 
There has never been a time in history when the powers behind the powers haven’t dreamed of bringing the world under complete domination through one controlling administration. That’s the message underlying the Tower of Babel story (Genesis 11:1-9). We see this pattern throughout history, attested by the plague of wars between and among empires from all ages. 
In our time we are witnessing Western Progressives trying to birth a world utopia by peaceful means through the World Economic Forum, the World Court, and other international organizations. But this is only part of the story. There are at least two other competing visions of a New World Order that are there for all to see, but are too often misunderstood in theological circles. 
First of all, the Islamic world has its own vision of a New World Order that includes a heavy dose of Sharia and forced conversions powered by the sword. The prophecy in Daniel 11 seems to refer to this power. 
Second, the Chinese Communists have a vision of a New World Order which places themselves at the center of the world through their Belt and Road Initiative which they hope bring world dominance both militarily and financially.. The Book of Revelation makes reference to a 200 million man army attacking from the East (Revelation 9:10-17). 
Thus my question: Which New World Order are we talking about? Is it the Progressive Western version? Is it the Islamic version? Or is it the Oriental version? 
The existence of several competing power centers at the same time is a point often overlooked from a Western-oriented perspective. Also sometimes neglected is the underlying source of the machinations we see on the world scene. 
Many years ago in a college history class someone brought up the subject of secret conspiracies. The person teaching the class took this as an opportunity to point out that pursuing an understanding of who is ultimately behind conspiracies is often hazy because the evidence becomes more complex the deeper it is pursued. I have come to believe that this observation points to a hokey-sounding reality. It warns against being distracted by the useful idiots and fellow travelers who seem to have their hands on the wheel. The real power behind the throne is something else. My take goes something like this: 
1. Yes, there are conspiracies.
2. They are not secret at all. The agendas are right out there in the open, sugarcoated like a forbidden fruit, but obvious even in the main stream media.
3. The real conspirators are not easily discoverable because they originate in an unseen realm (Ephesians 2:2, 6:12, Matthew 4:8-9).
That’s why I suggest broadening our paradigm when facts demand it. To focus on one faction’s attempt to reorder the world is to miss the signs from elsewhere. It is to cherry pick only the facts that fit the existing narrative. 
The world’s pathologies are rooted in a spiritual reality and therefore demand a spiritual solution. While those forces are battling each other in the unseen realm for worldwide hegemony, emerging in our world through conflicts and wars, the ultimate solution is a spiritual one requiring a Savior. That Savior will not be a prime minister, an emperor, or a president. Nor will it be a man-made philosophy, religion, or political theory. It will be a Redeemer who is waiting in the sidelines for the right time to intervene.

Speaking the Truth in Love (Sabbath Thoughts)
There are two important facets to that instruction: “The truth” and “love.”
What are you saying, and why are you saying it?
We can try to show love while obscuring the truth – and we can speak the truth while being out for blood.
Neither one is enough on its own. The two are inextricably bound.
Love “rejoices in the truth” (1 Corinthians 13:6), and the purpose of God-given truth “is love from a pure heart, from a good conscience, and from sincere faith” (1 Timothy 1:5). Remove one side of the equation and you unbalance the other.
It’s happening all around us. There are people who will throw established and irrefutable truths out the window in favor of their own definition of love – and there are people who will take truth like a weapon and bludgeon others with it mercilessly, using it to tear down and mock their opponents.
What about us? Do you and I tend to drift toward one of those extremes?
I think it’s easy to do. I know I do it. When I see truth “fallen in the street” (Isaiah 59:14), it makes my blood boil. It’s hard not to let that anger be my motivation in responding. It can be just as hard to speak the truth when I know it might hurt someone I care about. And yet …
Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails. (1 Corinthians 13:4-8)
Love is a lot of things. It’s patient and kind. It doesn’t weaponize the truth, but it doesn’t hide from it either. It rejoices in it, embraces it, and refuses to rejoice in iniquity. It doesn’t even think evil. You can’t define iniquity without truth. And you can’t live the truth without love.
Does that balance exist inside us?
I’ve seen so many posts on Facebook lately that start with, “Not sure if this is true, but…”
Then why are you sharing it?
I’ve seen other posts that start with some version of, “Maybe now you idiots will finally understand.” Is that what love looks like?
We have to have both. Love and truth. Love knows the dividing line between firm and cruel. Truth knows the dividing line between helpful and harmful. Together, they build the fence that shows us the quadrant God expects us to live in. When we try to operate on only one of those axes and ignore the other, we plunge ourselves into all kinds of trouble.
Paul wrote a beautiful passage about the reason the Church and its appointed officials exist:
And He Himself gave some to be apostles, some prophets, some evangelists, and some pastors and teachers, for the equipping of the saints for the work of ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ, till we all come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to a perfect man, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ; that we should no longer be children, tossed to and fro and carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the trickery of men, in the cunning craftiness of deceitful plotting, but, speaking the truth in love, may grow up in all things into Him who is the head – Christ – from whom the whole body, joined and knit together by what every joint supplies, according to the effective working by which every part does its share, causes growth of the body for the edifying of itself in love. (Ephesians 4:11-16)
Truth and love, side by side, are what enable us to stand firm against winds of doctrine and deceitful plotting while growing to be more and more like our older Brother. I don’t much care for the alternative.

Christ in Us – Our Hope of Glory (Sabbath Meditations)
Halfway through the Days of Unleavened Bread and so far so good. I’d yet to a plow down a donut without thinking or munch down a handful of croutons with my dinner salad. The symbol of sin had not, knowingly anyway, crossed my lips.
Although I’d done well with the command not to eat, I wish I could say as much about the command we are given to eat. After all, we are commanded to take the leaven out of our dwellings on the first day. The commandment to take in of unleavened bread covers all seven (Ex.12:15)
In some ways remembering to eat unleavened bread every day is more challenging than avoiding the leavened stuff. If I’m not careful an entire day can get by me before I realize, “Hey, I haven’t eaten any unleavened bread today.”
This tendency to forget such a simple command got me thinking. What if unleavened bread were all I had to eat? What if my physical life depended on it for sustenance? How much more focused would I be on getting my three square servings of unleavened bread each day?
In Galatians 2:20 Paul writes, “I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.”
Paul is basically saying that His spiritual life is dependent on Jesus Christ living in Him. Everything he does, all that he is, is made possible by the life of Jesus living in him by faith. Paul knew that taking in of the Unleavened Bread every day of his life was critical to his spiritual survival, his spiritual salvation.
Taking in of unleavened bread each day of this festival is a fairly basic exercise. It’s pretty much just a matter of remembering to pick it up and put it in my mouth. But what does it mean to have Christ living in me? How do I, in a real sense, take Him in spiritually, every day of my life?
Just a cursory search through scripture gives some insight.
Ephesians 3:14 tells us that Christ dwells in the heart of the believer through faith; faith in His sacrifice and the promise of salvation, made possible by His resurrection. It’s a promise which He has given to all who are His. So taking in of Jesus Christ means continually being reminded of and renewing our trust in His sacrifice and the work that He is doing in our lives.
1 Corinthians 1 tells us that God has chosen the weak of the world that no one should give glory to themselves for what He has done. By virtue of being in Him and His life dwelling in us, He has become our righteousness, our sanctification and our redemption. So if any man glories, he should glory in the Lord. So taking in of His life each day means to daily give glory to the One who gives us life, to the One who redeems us.
Romans 8:9-11 tells us that Christ dwells in us through His Spirit. Our bodies are dead because of sin, but His Spirit that dwells in us gives us life. Paul goes onto say that as Christians, we are to put to death the old man and submit to power of His Spirit working in us, changing us. Taking in of Him means to not resist, but submit daily to the leading of His Spirit within us.
Philippians 2:5-13 tells us to let Jesus Christ’s mind be in us. A mindset of humility, a mindset of a servant, willingly sacrificing for the needs of others. Taking in of Him daily means to daily put on humility, daily present ourselves as living sacrifices in service to others and to Him.
Paul goes on to say in Philippians 2: 12-13, “Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, not as in my presence only, but now much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling; for it is God who works in you both to will and to do for His good pleasure.”
Taking in of the Unleavened Bread of Sincerity and Truth means to submit ourselves daily to let Him work in us both to do and to will of His good pleasure. It’s recognizing that any good that is in us comes from His work in us. We submit in fear and trembling daily to let Him do that work.
Colossians 1:24 tells us that to us, His saints, has “been made known the mystery which has been hidden from ages and from generations, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory.”
Taking in of Him each day of my life is about humbly dying to myself, my desires, my attitudes, and submitting to let Him do His work in me. It’s trusting in Him by faith, understanding that it’s His work in me that has made me righteous, not anything I have done. My righteousness is as filthy rags. As far as the heavens are above the earth, so far are His thoughts above my thoughts, and His ways above my ways. It is He who has made me unleavened through His awesome sacrifice, so that when the Father looks at me, He doesn’t see me, He sees His Son. It’s His righteousness imputed to me, His life in me, that allows me to live. And the life I now live I live through faith in the Son of God who died for me and lives in me. As long as I remain in Him and He in me, I live a life free of fear and full of hope. His life in me is my hope of glory.
In a nutshell, it’s about Him, it’s not about me. He gets the glory. My response to that awesome gift is to desire to be like Him, to strive to become, in reality, what I already am in Him, each and every day of my life.
So much meaning in such a small piece of unleavened bread. Maybe it’s so easy to forget to eat it during these days because there are so many other culinary delights to be had. Come to think of it, maybe that’s part of the lesson. Our lives become so readily immersed in all this world has to offer that we often forget the one thing that truly gives us life. His life, living in us.
What a blessing it is our God gave us these days of Unleavened Bread to refocus our attention on Him.

Prepare to Meet Your God: Arrogance, Schisms and Purging out Leaven (Morning Companion)
“If we judged ourselves truly, we would not be judged” (1 Corinthians 7:31 English Standard Version)
In Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, the Apostle has at least three objectives in mind.
Achieve church unity. This was a church wracked by division. They were divided by their preference for teachers (1:10-17). They were divided by economic status (11: 17-22). They were filing lawsuits against each other (6:1-8) And there are some indications of ethnic strife (9:19-23).
Deal with specific problems. In addition to division among them, the church had other internal problems, including an openly incestual relationship (5:1-5), arrogance (3:18-23, 4:8-13,5:6), and even a judgmental arrogance toward Paul (9:1-19).
Answer specific questions. In addition to addressing problems, Paul devotes major portions of his letter to answering specific questions they had posed to him (7:1), including questions about marriage in troubled times (chapter 7), food offered to idols (chapter 8), their misunderstanding about law vs. liberty (10:23-24), spiritual gifts (chapter 12), the resurrection (15:35), and specifics regarding a special collection for the poor saints in Jerusalem (16:1-4).
To be fair to the Corinthians, the problems and questions that issued forth from the Corinthian believers are universal in nature. True, living in the cultural cesspool of immorality and paganism as was the city of Corinth would be a more challenging atmosphere than a believer might face in a pious small town in Iowa, but the fact is, churches everywhere – even Iowa – face the same challenges as those in Corinth. The only difference is often (but not always) a matter of degree. That’s what makes 1 Corinthians such a valuable letter 2,000 years later.
The urgency with which Paul writes his letter speaks to the magnitude of the problems in that congregation. Alongside that was another bit of urgency, for he wrote this letter at the time of year when the church should have been involved in some special spiritual preparations. There are strong hints that 1 Corinthians was written as Spring approached, because Paul makes a number of references to the Holy Day season.
In chapter 5 he says, “Your boasting is not good. Do you not know that a little leaven leavens the whole lump? Cleanse out the old leaven that you may be a new lump, as you are unleavened. For Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed. Let us therefore celebrate the festival, not with the old leaven, the leaven of malice and evil, but with the unleavened bread of sincerity and truth” (verses 6-8 ESV).
These verses point to physically cleaning out leaven from homes and diet, a common practice when preparing for Passover and the Days of Unleavened Bread. Paul uses this as an analogy illustrating that sin is like leaven. A little bit of it in a lump of dough spreads and infects the entire lump, just like a little bit of sin can grow and corrupt everything it touches.
Then Paul reminds them that they need to become a “new lump”, an unleavened lump without corruption, making an analogy to the practice of removing physical leaven from their homes (“as you are unleavened”) “because Christ our Passover lamb has been sacrificed”. Because Christ our Passover has been sacrificed, the leaven of sin in our lives can be forgiven. This indicates that they had in fact prepared themselves physically for the festival but clearly had neglected the spiritual aspect, which includes the purging out of malice and evil intent.
It is also significant that Paul throughout this letter uses the Greek word phusiousthe, which some translations render “arrogant” and others as “puffed up”. Both translations catch the sense of the Greek (see Strong’s entry #5448 and Thayer’s Greek Lexicon), and Paul in this clever word play shows how leaven, which “puffs up” dough, can also “puff up” us, exhibiting itself as arrogance.
When Paul uses these teaching tools, he presupposes that these gentile Christians would understand the deep meaning embedded in the Passover lamb, leaven, and the importance of becoming “unleavened” spiritually, all of which are prefigured in the ancient festival of Passover.
This brings us to 1 Corinthians 11. It is here where Paul focuses on how their arrogance, their internal divisions, and their lack of love make a travesty of a most serious and solemn occasion – that of the taking of the bread and the wine. The pertinent passage begins in verse 17 and ends in verse 33. In verses 23–26 Paul is clearly pointing his readers to Jesus’s last Passover celebration (Luke 22:7-13), and he takes the Corinthians to task for desecrating this most serious of observances by their carnal behavior. They had turned the taking of the symbols of Christ’s sacrifice into a gluttonous and drunken affair.
He tells the Corinthians to take a good, hard look at themselves – to “examine” themselves – before taking of the bread and of the cup, lest they bring judgment upon themselves. Introspection coupled with repentance is a good thing. Not only is it a good thing, it’s a critical thing when preparing for Passover.
Finally, Paul makes a profound statement. “If we judged ourselves truly, we would not be judged” (verse 31). This indicates that if we are introspective about our faults, God will offer us forbearance and mercy because repentance should be the outcome of self-examination.
Conclusion
Of the lessons embedded in a study of 1 Corinthians, the one that relates to preparation for the festival in Chapter 11 appears to be a key pivot point. Putting physical leaven out of our diets and abodes is a good teaching exercise, but it is not the most important thing we can do. It’s more critical to take stock of our own walk with Christ and how much we (better said, “I”) need the broken body and the shed blood, not how much my brother or my neighbor or my enemy needs to repent. It makes no sense to purge out the physical leaven while leaving untouched the spiritual leaven. It is no accident that Paul includes in his letter that poetic passage of chapter 13 about what it means to love.
To prepare for our meeting with God, “judge ourselves truly” so that we will not be judged.

Begin (Sabbath Thoughts)
When Israel first kept the Passover, it was with the backdrop of a broken, shattered Egypt. God had brought the mighty nation to its knees for the sake of His people, ending years of oppression and captivity in a single, masterful stroke. In years to come, the Israelites were to continue keeping this day, teaching their children about “the Passover sacrifice of the Lord, who passed over the houses of the children of Israel in Egypt when He struck the Egyptians and delivered our households” (Exodus 12:27). Likewise, the days that followed – the Days of Unleavened Bread – were to serve as a reminder “of what the Lord did for me when I came up from Egypt” (Exodus 13:8). Begin.
Decades later, when a new generation of Israelites finally settled in the Promised Land, the message of Passover was even clearer. The year had just begun (Leviticus 23:5). The crops were growing in the fields. The world around them was budding and chirping and singing and just generally coming back to life after a cold, rainy winter. The sheaf of the firstfruits would soon be waved before the Lord with gratitude for the harvest He was providing for His people (Leviticus 23:10).
Begin.
Jesus Christ told His disciples, “With fervent desire I have desired to eat this Passover with you” (Luke 22:15), because this was going to be the Passover that changed everything. Christ was slain “from the foundation of the world” (Revelation 13:8), which means this Passover had been in the works since the events of Genesis 1:1. From here on out, the focus wouldn’t be on God breaking the chains of Egypt, but the chains of sin and death itself. Through death, Christ was going to “destroy him who had the power of death, that is, the devil, and release those who through fear of death were all their lifetime subject to bondage” (Hebrews 2:14-15). The penalty would be paid, once and for all – and for all those willing to repent and change their ways, the slate could be wiped clean.
Begin.
Can you hear it? Can you hear the message of this day?
The Passover season is a season for beginning. For starting fresh. It’s a reminder that the focus isn’t on the mistakes you’ve made in the past. Whether the backdrop is Egyptian captivity, a field full of new crops, or the sacrifice of the Son of God Himself, it’s clear that God doesn’t want us defining ourselves by our past failures and our forgiven sins. Christ’s sacrifice was intended to sever you from the things holding you back.
Passover reminds us to “put on the new man who is renewed in knowledge according to the image of Him who created him” (Colossians 3:10) and begin. Yes, we all have regrets behind us. We all have things we’d do differently and decisions we’d take back. But the Passover is about how God called us out of sins – how the Son of God gave His life to keep us from being held down by them.
What haven’t you accomplished this past year? How haven’t you grown? Where are you lacking?
Begin.
It’s time to shore up those weaknesses, to “strengthen the weak hands, and make firm the feeble knees” (Isaiah 35:3), and to grow ever closer to our God and King.
The chains are broken. The fields are ready. The debt is paid.
Begin.

Let My People Go (Morning Companion)
Finish this sentence: “Let my people go …”
You’ll recognize those words as those coming from Moses’ mouth to Pharaoh’s ears. They were God’s demand to free the Israelite slaves, and thus became a rallying cry for those of us who love freedom.
And yet the sentence quoted above is incomplete. “Let my people go” is a phrase closely identified with the Passover and freedom from the slavery of Egypt. For Christians, not only does it look to the freeing of the people of Israel from bondage, but also the freeing of all mankind from the bondage of sin through the sacrifice of the Passover Lamb without blemish (I Peter 1:19, I Corinthians 5:7).
But freedom from bondage is only part of the story. The rest of the story is found in the rest of Moses’ words: “Let my people go that they may serve me.”
Freedom is a wonderful thing, but it is not the ultimate good. When we have freedom, it must be exercised for a greater cause than freedom for its own sake. Experience enough generations of freedom defined as doing whatever we please, or in Biblical parlance, whatever is right in our own eyes, and you’ll get a world like that of the last days in the Book of Judges. Read the 19th – 21st chapters of Judges to see what a society of unfettered freedom produces, a society that has forgotten the purpose for freedom. Read either that or tomorrow’s newspaper.
The fact is, the path of freedom without responsibility leads to chaos, which in turn leads back to slavery. We are meant to have freedom so that we can reach our true God-given potential.
The point we can take from Moses’ full statement is that freedom from sin, while great in its own right, is simply not enough. In fact, that’s why some fifty days after the Exodus the Israelites found that Moses had led them to the foot of Mt. Sinai where they were about to receive the Ten Commandments. Those commandments taught them how they were supposed to serve God.
Put differently, they were given a law that would ensure their liberty. It defined how free men and women were to live together in such a way that everyone’s rights could be respected.
Freedom is not enough. Ironic, is it not, that we are made free so that we can serve a better Master?

Burning but not Consumed (Sabbath Thoughts) 
Fire consumes. That’s a fundamental rule. It’s how the whole thing works. It’s energy and light from a fuel source that’s being ripped apart on the molecular level. 
Except when it isn’t. Except when it’s surrounding a bush on the mountain of God, and the fundamental rules are thrown out the window. 
That’s what Moses saw. “He looked, and behold, the bush was burning with fire, but the bush was not consumed” (Exodus 3:2). 
Should have been. Wasn’t. 
I’m guessing the bush probably wasn’t that important. I suspect it was just your average, ordinary, run-of-the-mill, growing-on-the-slope-of-a-mountain kind of bush. The only reason we even talk about the bush has nothing to do with the actual bush itself and everything to do with the fire that was swirling around it, engulfing it but not consuming it. 
The presence of God. When He came to speak with Israel, “Mount Sinai was completely in smoke, because the LORD descended upon it in fire. Its smoke ascended like the smoke of a furnace, and the whole mountain quaked greatly” (Exodus 19:18). And again, “the sight of the glory of the LORD was like a consuming fire on the top of the mountain” (Exodus 24:17). The Israelites were constantly at risk of being consumed because of their disobedience and sin (Exodus 33:3). 
The fire of God’s presence can absolutely consume us if we treat it without the awe and reverence it deserves. That presence that swirls around you, too. In your life. With your spirit. Why aren’t you consumed? It’s not about the bush. It’s about the fire. 
There is a lot in this world that ought to be able to break us in terms of our devotion to God. It ought to be able to wear us down until we give up and stop trying. It ought to be able to convince us that the struggle isn’t worth it. But it doesn’t do that. 
“We have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies” (2 Corinthians 4:7-10, ESV). 
The fire we carry doesn’t consume us. It empowers us. It gives us the strength to continue on long after the moment that should have been our breaking point. It gives us hope and perspective and confidence in a future worth sacrificing everything to be part of. 
We’re jars of clay. We’re your average, ordinary, run-of-the-mill, growing-on-the-slope-of-a-mountain kind of bush. But we’ve been given something precious by our Creator—a fire that keeps burning long after we should have burned out. 
Afflicted but not crushed. Perplexed but not driven to despair. Persecuted but not forsaken. Struck down but not destroyed. Trusting in God to get us where we’re going.

Forgetting to Remember (Sabbath Meditations)
“Ughh … ten more miles to go … Come on … ignore the biting winter wind. Ignore the aching legs. Push through the burning in your lungs. Keep pedaling … just keep pedaling.”
I was cycling along the snow and ice flanked country roads near my house when these thoughts began running, or more accurately, throbbing, through my mind. This day the wintry wind was especially brutal, making my normal 24 mile training route feel more like 50. If the physical discomfort weren’t enough to make me question my sanity, the looks of passers-by gawking at me from the comfort of their heated car seats certainly did. “Why, exactly, am I putting myself through this torture again?!”
But as fast as that thought flooded my mind another thought, or rather an image, pushed it aside, strengthening my resolve to pedal harder. The image of a guy, 300 pounds and counting, sitting on the edge of a kayak on the muddy bank of a winding, secluded river, certain he was about to meet his Maker.
The source of that image? I took my kayak out alone (my first mistake) on what was supposed to be a leisurely two hour scouting trip to check out a route for an upcoming men’s group outing. Somewhere around 2½ hours into what turned out to be a four hour ordeal, just having pulled my kayak out of the river for the fifth or sixth time, up a muddy slope, through tangled brush and weeds around yet another of the many snags that had blocked my progress, I began to experience symptoms of what I feared was a heart attack. They were all there: shortness of breath, tingling in the arms and legs, a tight feeling behind my breastbone, cotton dry mouth … and fear, lots of fear … fear of dying … fear of my kids growing up, getting married, having their own kids, my grand children, without me. Fear of not seeing my wife again. Fear of dying … alone … here in this place.
It’s amazing how believing you are about to keel over can bring clarity to your thinking and sharpen your resolve. Sitting on the edge of that kayak, I determined that if I got out of there alive I’d do whatever was within my power to never feel that physically helpless again.
Needless to say, I lived to tell the tale. After half an hour of resting and fervent prayer, I summoned the strength to climb back in my kayak and paddle the mile or so, thankfully snag free, to the pickup point and call my by now very worried, and very relieved, wife.
The next week, after having been reassured by the guy with the stethoscope that what I had experienced was not a heart attack, but more probably physical exhaustion compounded by dehydration, I pulled my old mountain bike out of the rafters of our garage and began pedaling like there was no tomorrow.
Today, 70 pounds lighter, feeling healthier than I have since my college days, I’m still pedaling. What started out as a herculean sweat fest just to churn out a couple of miles around the neighborhood has turned into an average of 60 miles per week all over the county … wind, rain, snow or shine. When weather or darkness makes it impossible to ride outdoors I ride indoors.
I’m not trying to toot my own horn, though … okay, maybe a little toot … after all, it was a lot of work! The reality, though, is that my climb back from the brink of a health disaster had a lot more to do with the love, support and encouragement of others than it did with me. I have a lot of people to thank. My wife, who, though worrying every time I leave the house that I’ll end up as road kill somewhere, says a prayer and lets me go anyway. My kids, who support and encourage me while suppressing their horror at the spectacle of dad in Lycra. And my good friends, Pat, Jeremy and Doug, who, rather than roll their eyes … have pulled their own bikes out of the garage and pedaled along side.
It’s not only the image of the guy I was that inspires me to keep pedaling another mile, and another, but also the memory of all those who’ve shared, in one way or another, those miles with me.
It strikes me how this physical journey I’ve had mirrors the spiritual journey we all walk. I’ve tested my limits, struggled to be disciplined and committed and resisted temptation to go back to my old ways.
In Philippians 3 Paul tells us, “Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.”
As a rule, Paul tells Christians that they should focus their attention forward. Forward to God’s Kingdom. Forward to the return of our Lord. Forward to the joy that is set before us. Spending time looking back, re-living past failures, past defeats can keep us immobilized, unable to see, much less experience, the good things God has in store for those who love Him.
But there are times when looking back, remembering, can actually give us the resolve to keep going forward. Times when we get discouraged. Times when we get weary. Times when we question whether it’s all worth it. These are times that we can draw tremendous strength from remembering.
In fact, God, knowing the power of memory to re-energize and re-focus our commitment, gave us an entire season to do just that. It’s all about remembering.
Jesus, in Luke 22:19, after taking the bread, symbolic of His body which would soon be broken gave thanks and said to His disciples, and us by extension, “This is My body which is given for you; do this in remembrance of Me.”
In the symbols of the Passover we bring to remembrance what Jesus did for us. We remember His body that was broken and His blood that was spilled that we might be saved from our wretched state apart from Him. We’re reminded of where we began.
Ephesians 2 paints an even clearer image of where we once were without Jesus.
Ephesians 2:11-13: “Therefore remember that you, once Gentiles in the flesh – who are called Uncircumcision by what is called the Circumcision made in the flesh by hands – that at that time you were without Christ, being aliens from the commonwealth of Israel and strangers from the covenants of promise, having no hope and without God in the world. But now in Christ Jesus you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ.”
We were, all of us, afar off, without hope, figuratively sitting in our kayaks in the middle of a wilderness, facing the prospect of eternal death.
Yes, Passover is a time to soberly take stock of the road ahead and how far we have yet to go, but it’s also a time to be encouraged in remembering. The strength to continue the journey sometimes comes from looking back at how far we’ve come down the road, but also reflecting on those who have traveled it with us. People the Lord has put in our lives so that we might grow to become more like Him. Those who have comforted us and encouraged us to persevere through hard times. Those who have modeled Godly marriages, Godly parenting, Godly responses to suffering. Those who have remained faithful when it’s hard to be faithful, and whose examples have strengthened and grounded our faith.
I’m thankful that I have been free of anything like the fear I felt sitting on my kayak on the edge of that river. Worries about a heart attack, diabetes, stroke, though never certain, for the most part I left somewhere many miles in the wake of my Surly’s rear tire. My health still isn’t quite where I want it to be. I’m still looking ahead, focused on conquering the next hill, seeing what lies around the next corner, and testing what this middle-aged body can do. But I know there are always going to be times, whether on my bike or along this Christian walk, when the long road ahead, the biting wind in my face, the weariness of mind and body might prompt me to question if it’s really all worth it. Those are times that I never want to forget to remember.
This Passover season, my prayer for all of God’s people is that none of us will forget to remember … and that in doing so we’ll each find the strength and encouragement to keep on pedaling.

Preparing for Passover – what the Pharisees can teach us (Sabbath Thoughts)
During His time on earth, Jesus Christ had a lot of things to say about the Pharisees. They weren’t kind things.
Because they sat “in Moses’ seat” (Matthew 23:2), they were responsible for the spiritual guidance and development of the people they served – and yet, over and over, Jesus took them to task for their continual failure to perform that role. He warned His followers, “They bind heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on men’s shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with one of their fingers. But all their works they do to be seen by men” (Matthew 23:4-5).
It’s pretty clear that Jesus didn’t intend for the Pharisees to be a modern-day Christian’s role model, but their example is important all the same. By taking a look at where they went wrong, we can learn a lot about how God expects us to approach our calling – a subject that’s especially relevant as we approach this coming Passover. So what can the Pharisees teach us about preparing for Passover?
1. It’s not about how others see you.
The Pharisees were masters of presentation. Christ said so Himself: “All their works they do to be seen by men.” Everything they did was designed to draw attention to themselves – to show the world how impressive and pious they were. When they did something charitable, they would sound a trumpet “in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may have glory from men” (Matthew 6:2). When they prayed, it was “standing in the synagogues and on the corners of the streets, that they may be seen by men” (Matthew 6:5). And when they fasted, they did so “with a sad countenance. For they disfigure their faces that they may appear to men to be fasting” (Matthew 6:16).
In their desire to be seen and admired, the Pharisees began to value the motions more than the meaning behind the motions. The point of doing a good deed is to help someone. The point of praying is to bring ourselves into communication with God. The point of fasting is to humble ourselves and bring ourselves in accordance with God’s will. None of those things require an audience.
In His most scalding oration, Christ compared the Pharisees to dishes which appear clean on the outside, “but inside they are full of extortion and self-indulgence” (Matthew 23:25) and whitewashed tombs “which indeed appear beautiful outwardly, but inside are full of dead men’s bones and all uncleanness. Even so you also outwardly appear righteous to men, but inside you are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness” (Matthew 23:27-28).
The Pharisees were so focused on how they looked in the eyes of their audience that they neglected the most important parts of themselves – the parts no one else could see. But Christ could see through the whitewashed exterior, and what He saw was spiritual filth.
2. It’s not about your rules.
Another thing the Pharisees had a knack for was redefining what it means to obey God. When they “found fault” with Jesus because His disciples did not “walk according to the tradition of the elders” (Mark 7:2,5), Jesus fired back, “All too well you reject the commandment of God, that you may keep your tradition” (Mark 7:9).
The Pharisees had extra rules about what vows counted and what vows didn’t (Matthew 23:16-22), they had loopholes for how to avoid providing for their parents (Matthew 15:4-6), they had extra restrictions for what was acceptable on the Sabbath (Luke 6:6-11), along with “many other things which they have received and hold” (Mark 7:4). And they were good at following those rules.
When Christ told the multitudes, “For I say to you, that unless your righteousness exceeds the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, you will by no means enter the kingdom of heaven,” (Matthew 5:20), it must have sounded completely impossible. More righteous than the Pharisees? How could anyone do that? The Pharisees wrote the book on righteousness.
And that was the problem, really. The Pharisees were using their own book and their own rules when they should have been using God’s. “Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!” Jesus told them. “For you pay tithe of mint and anise and cummin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faith. These you ought to have done, without leaving the others undone. Blind guides, who strain out a gnat and swallow a camel!” (Matthew 23:23-24).
The Pharisees were so focused on doing things the way they thought they should be done, they completely neglected the things that really mattered to God. And that points us toward the most important pre-Passover lesson we can learn from the Pharisees:
3. It’s about who you are in the eyes of God
Jesus knew the hearts of the Pharisees – He knew what was important to them, He knew how they looked at themselves, and He knew how they looked at others.
Also He spoke this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and despised others: “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood and prayed thus with himself, ‘God, I thank You that I am not like other men – extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I possess.’ And the tax collector, standing afar off, would not so much as raise his eyes to heaven, but beat his breast, saying, ‘God, be merciful to me a sinner!’ I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other; for everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted.” (Luke 18:9-14)
The Pharisee came to God to brag about how great he was, but the tax collector was not quite so disillusioned. He knew who he was in the eyes of God, and he came before God accordingly. His prayer – a plea for mercy – carried far more weight with God than the prayer of the man who could only see his own greatness.
As we prepare for Passover, which one are we? Are we the Pharisee – or the tax collector? Are we focused on how righteous we appear to others and how we measure up to our own standards – or are we analyzing ourselves in light of God’s Word and holding ourselves up to His standards?
It’s fine to be doing better in certain areas than we were last year. In fact, if we’re living the way we’re supposed to, we ought to be better Christians than we were last year. God doesn’t expect us to ignore our strengths or pretend they don’t exist – but He also doesn’t expect us to be so focused on those strengths that we stop seeing where we need to improve.
It would be a mistake to look at the example of the Pharisees and just roll our eyes at all their foibles. Especially with Passover right around the corner, we have a lot to gain when we realize that the Pharisees’ mistakes can easily become our mistakes. We can fall into the trap of putting on a show for others, we can start putting our own rulebook above God’s, and we can miss the weightier matters of the law in the process.
Instead, let’s make an effort to be more like the tax collector in Christ’s parable – to strive to see ourselves for who we are in the eyes of our Creator. He sees through our facades and down into the core of our being – and the more we learn to see ourselves the same way, the more opportunities we’ll have to grow. And the more of those opportunities we take advantage of, the better our upcoming Passover will be.
Turns out the Pharisees have a lot to teach us after all.

Face in the Mirror (Morning Companion)
In Greek mythology a young man named Narcissus gazed into a still pond and saw his own reflection. He was so taken by his own beauty that he fell in love with his own image and could not pull himself away. The story ends with Narcissus’ self-destruction. Our English word narcissist derives from this story, describing a person whose entire being centers on himself and his ego.
At my age, when I look into a mirror and see my reflection, my thoughts are not the same as Narcissus. I see someone who looks more and more like my grandfather. I see a beard that needs shaving, hair that needs combed, and age spots all over the place. And I use the mirror to correct as many of those flaws as I can. As an alternative I could just look at myself, shrug, accept myself as I am, and demand that you embrace me and all my faults as one big, ungroomed package. James’ Epistle counsels against me doing that.
If anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man observing his natural face in a mirror. For he observes himself, goes away, and immediately forgets what manner of man he was. But he who looks into the perfect law of liberty and continues in it, and is not a forgetful hearer but a doer of the work, this one will be blessed in what he does. (James 1:23-25 NKJV)
James is telling us that the law sets a standard of behavior that reflects how we should live in relation to others and to God. James uses his Epistle as a personal mirror to hold in front of our faces to help us discern whether we reflect Christlike attributes or not.
Things like watching what we say.
Taking care of widows and orphans.
Avoiding prejudice and partiality.
Watching our attitudes.
Submitting to God, resisting the devil.
And so much more.
Every Spring, every year, there is an ancient Festival with roots that go back for thousands of years, at least to the great exodus of God’s people from the slavery of Egypt. It was during this Festival of the Passover that a Man (if we can say he was merely a man) broke the bread and offered the cup to his disciples, symbolizing his personal sacrifice for us so that we might inherit eternal life. Christians have memorialized these symbols continually for two thousand years in remembrance of him. The great Apostle Paul, when addressing the Corinthians about properly preparing oneself spiritually for this remembrance wrote:
But let a man examine himself, and so let him eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For he who eats and drinks in an unworthy manner eats and drinks judgment to himself, not discerning the Lord’s body. (I Corinthians 11:28-29 NKJV)
Hold the mirror in front of your face. Examine yourself. What blemishes, what stray hairs, what flaws do you see? We all need a makeover. That’s what the Spring Festival is all about.

The secret to being good at something (Sabbath Thoughts)
. . . is to be willing to be bad at it first.
That usually means looking foolish in front of others.
It means lacking the tools, skills, and even terminology you need in order to bridge the gap between what you’re capable of doing and what you’re trying to do.
It means trying and failing, sometimes publicly, while you make the effort to develop a skill set that matters to you.
I wish there was an easier way. I don’t like doing a bad job, especially when others are watching. Evaluating. Judging.
What I want is to just set my mind to something—maybe read up on it a little bit—and just know how to do it well. To have some natural inclination that makes the whole process a simple and painless one.
Not to struggle. Certainly not to struggle in the open, where people can see.
But that’s just silly. That’s how it works.
We struggle. We reach. We grasp. We slip. We fail. We learn. We get back up and try again. Every time, a little better. Every time, a little closer to the goal.
An art teacher once told his students, “Every one of you birds has a hundred thousand bad drawings in you. The sooner you get rid of them, the better it will be for everybody.”
Get comfortable with doing a bad job at things.
Don’t aim to do a bad job, don’t be content with a bad job—but get comfortable with aiming high and missing the target in a spectacular way. It’s going to happen a lot in both our physical and spiritual pursuits. A bad job isn’t our final destination, but it’s a necessary stopover if we ever want to get good at anything.
The alternative is to be the guy who buried his talent in the ground—and we all know how that worked out for him.
What are you trying to get better at? And are you willing to be bad at it along the way?

The Lord Will Provide (Sabbath Thoughts)
“Is anything too hard for the LORD?” (Genesis 18:14)
That’s the question at the heart of Abraham’s story – and at the heart of every Christian’s story. Over and over again, God asks Abraham and Sarah to step out in faith and trust him while doing the impossible and the unthinkable.
They leave their country and their family so they can live like strangers in a land that their descendants won’t inherit until four centuries later. When God promises them a son, they laugh at first, but through faith, 90-year-old Sarah conceives, and 100-year-old Abraham becomes the father of a miracle – a baby boy named Isaac.
Laughter. That’s what Isaac means. He was the baby boy who made them laugh – first incredulously, then with joy.
And then, one night, God comes to Abraham with a command:
“Take now your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I shall tell you” (Genesis 22:2).
What happens next? “So Abraham rose early in the morning and saddled his donkey, and took two of his young men with him, and Isaac his son; and he split the wood for the burnt offering, and arose and went to the place of which God had told him” (Genesis 22:3).
If you’re wondering why Abraham looks like such a cold, emotionless robot in these verses, remember that Genesis is a book condensing more than 2,000 years of human history into 50 chapters. There’s not a lot of room for exposition. But – and this is an important principle when reading the Bible in general – just because the Biblical account doesn’t mention anything between verses two and three, we can’t conclude that nothing happened between verses two and three. That’s a logical fallacy called an argument from silence, and it’s an easy trap to fall into.
John wrote the last of the four canonized gospel accounts, and even he had to conclude his account with, “And there are also many other things that Jesus did, which if they were written one by one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that would be written” (John 21:25). The fourth attempt to summarize a three-and-a-half-year ministry, and John still feels compelled to  say, “There aren’t enough books in the world to hold the entire story.”
I can pretty much guarantee you that, sandwiched between verses two and three of Genesis 22 was the worst night of Abraham’s life. (And this was a man whose wife had been abducted into the harem of a king – twice!)
Do you think he spent the night staring at the ceiling of the tent? Do you think he cried? Do you think he begged God for another way, another option?
The Bible doesn’t say. We don’t know. And there is the opposite ditch of arguments from silence – it’s so easy to project our own thoughts and reactions into the story, inserting ourselves into the narrative. But we know from God’s own words that Abraham loved his son dearly, and so we can be certain that he wasn’t the unflappable stoic that verse three makes him appear to be.
He was a man wrestling with faith and doubt.
God had given him a promise – an ironclad, unshakable promise that Isaac would be the one through whom God’s promises would be fulfilled. Through Isaac, Abraham would become “a father of many nations” (Genesis 17:4).
But now, in no uncertain terms, God was telling Abraham to kill that child. How could it be? How could God fulfill His promises if the son He had promised was about to die? It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t humanly possible. And I wonder if, while wrestling with these thoughts, that old familiar question from decades earlier came drifting through Abraham’s mind once again:
Is anything too hard for the LORD?
Abraham and Isaac spent three days traveling toward the mountains of Moriah. I wonder what they talked about. With their destination in sight, Abraham tells the two young men who came with them, “Stay here with the donkey; the lad and I will go yonder and worship, and we will come back to you” (Genesis 22:5).
I remember reading that verse when I was younger. I assumed it was a lie meant to put the servants and Isaac at ease. Abraham knew he was climbing that mountain to sacrifice his son – how could he possibly have expected to walk back down with Isaac by his side?
And later, when Isaac asks where the lamb for the offering is, Abraham answers, “My son, God will provide for Himself the lamb for a burnt offering” (Genesis 22:8). That felt like a lie, too. The only lamb in this equation was Isaac – the boy who had brought laughter into his life.
But Abraham wasn’t lying. That’s such an important part of this story.
He trusted God. He understood that “with men this is impossible, but with God all things are possible” (Matthew 19:26). Isaac would be the father of great multitudes, through whom God would bless the earth – but first, he would have to be a sacrifice.
By faith Abraham, when he was tested, offered up Isaac, and he who had received the promises offered up his only begotten son, of whom it was said, “In Isaac your seed shall be called,” concluding that God was able to raise him up, even from the dead, from which he also received him in a figurative sense. (Hebrews 11:17-19)
Abraham believed what he told his servants, and he believed what he told Isaac. He and his son would be coming back down the mountain together. God would provide a lamb for the sacrifice. God had made a promise, and Abraham knew that not even death could stand in its way.
It’s easy to assume that Isaac was the unwilling participant in all of this, but don’t forget – he was strong enough to carry the wood for offering, and Abraham was well over 100 years old at this point. It wouldn’t have been very difficult for Isaac to cut and run once he put two and two together. Instead, he stays. Why? We don’t know. But he does, and it speaks volumes.
The rest of the story is pretty familiar to most of us. As Abraham picks up the knife and prepares to end his son’s life, the angel of the LORD calls out to Abraham, “Do not lay your hand on the lad, or do anything to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from Me” (Genesis 22:12).
Abraham looks up and finds a ram waiting for him. He sacrifices it on the altar, and calls the name of that place YHWH Yireh – ”The-LORD-Will-Provide” (Genesis 22:14). God adds even more blessings to Abraham for his obedience – including a Messianic promise (Genesis 22:18) – and father and son return down the mountain. Just like Abraham said they would.
Here’s my thesis: Abraham’s name for the site of the sacrifice was a mindset, not a reaction. It’s easy to look at it as a reaction – a father, overwhelmed with relief at God’s intervention, expresses his gratitude for the God Who Provides.
But there’s more to it than that. Remember, Abraham was already expecting God to provide an offering. He was already expecting to walk back down the mountain with Isaac.
And that, to me, is one of the most important lessons of this story: Abraham had decided that God was the God Who Provides long before he reached out to take that knife – long before Isaac had asked where the lamb for the offering was – long before he told the young men to wait for him to return with his son.
He didn’t have all the puzzle pieces figured out, but he didn’t need to. He knew whom he served – YHWH Yireh, the God Who Provides. The God who has the power to provide – and the wisdom and the love to know how and when.
Life is filled with moments where we’re forced to decide whether or not we truly believe in the God Who Provides – moments when we can’t see the bigger picture; moments when solutions aren’t obvious to us. Nothing about those moments are easy – but they’re definitely easier when we put our trust in YHWH Yireh before we go up the mountain.
Is anything too hard for the LORD?

“I’ll bet it’s cold in Chicago” (Morning Companion) 
Sometimes those around us are screaming inwardly but whispering outwardly for a little understanding. While hoping for some respite in the comfort of a book, Erma Bombeck is confronted head-on with a simple truth. 
———————————- 
There were thirty whole beautiful minutes before my plane took off—time for me to be alone with my own thoughts, to open a book and let my mind wander. A voice next to me belonging to an elderly woman said, ‘I’ll bet it’s cold in Chicago.’ 
“Stone-faced, I answered, ‘It’s likely.’ 
“‘I haven’t been to Chicago in nearly three years,’ she persisted. ‘My son lives there.’ 
“‘That’s nice,’ I said, my eyes intent on the printed page of the book. 
“‘My husband’s body is on this plane. We’ve been married for fifty-three years. I don’t drive, you know, and when he died a nun drove me from the hospital. We aren’t even Catholic. The funeral director let me come to the airport with him.’” 
Erma wrote, “I don’t think I have ever detested myself more than I did at that moment. Another human being was screaming to be heard and in desperation had turned to a cold stranger who was more interested in a novel than in the real-life drama at her elbow.  
“All she needed was a listener—no advice, wisdom, experience, money, assistance, expertise or even compassion—but just a minute or two to listen. …she talked numbly and steadily until we boarded the plane, [and] then found her seat in another section. As I hung up my coat, I heard her plaintive voice say to her seat companion, ‘I’ll bet it’s cold in Chicago.’ 
(Erma Bombeck, “Are You Listening?” If Life Is a Bowl of Cherries—What Am I Doing in the Pits?)

Cover Up Job (Sabbath Meditations)
As the Sabbath approached, I began to realize that, although so far I’d made good progress on my ‘to-do’ list in preparation for the party on Sunday, it was going to be a race against the clock to get all the tasks checked off by sunset. So, I began to cut some corners.
Rather than sweep out the garage, I took the wet dry vac, plugged in the hose to the blowing connection and proceeded to blow dirt around. Some of it actually made it out of the door. The rest went to the four corners and dark crevices of my garage. But the main part of the floor, the part that company would see, looked clean. That was what mattered.
Then there was the chipping and peeling paint on the front window trim. Given more time, I would have taken a wire brush and scraper to it. But, as the sun crept lower in the horizon, I desperately grabbed brush and primer and began slathering it on. And, I have to admit, it looked pretty good, well, at least from further than five feet away. That would have to suffice for now. I told myself this was just a temporary fix. A quick touch up job. I’d come back later when I had more time and do it right. After all, no one was going to inspect it that closely anyway.
As I was dabbing my brush at a small section of bare window trim, trying to gingerly push the brush under the edge of a bulging chip of old paint, I couldn’t help but think that it is a good thing I don’t approach my spiritual growth this haphazardly. Or do I?
Have I ever, in my desire to appear the good Christian, done a quick ‘cover up job’, knowing full well that just below the surface things are a lot uglier than I’m making them appear?
In Psalms 139:23-24 we read, “Search me, O God, and know my heart; Try me, and know my anxieties; And see if there is any wicked way in me, And lead me in the way everlasting.”
David, it seems, wasn’t much into cover up jobs. He wasn’t into facades, into maintaining an image. He knew that God sees through all of that anyway. He wanted it all to be out there. He wanted the bare wood, the chips, the dirt of his life to be clearly revealed. He wasn’t interested in quick fixes. He wanted the job done right, regardless of how painful it would be.
To be honest, David’s prayer scares me a little. It means taking a wire brush to my heart. It means pulling off the facade and being willing to let others see the cracks, the loose paint below the surface. It means allowing God to scrape down to the bare surface of who I really am and then deal with it head on. It’s not a painless process. But it seems to me, for the person who truly desires to be more than just a spiritual pretender, who truly desires to become like Him, it’s a necessary one.
We have a choice, you and I. We can fake our way through this Christian walk, pretending that we are growing, saying all the right things, doing all the right things, impressing all the right people, but never really being changed, never really growing down deep inside. We can look awful good to others on the outside by focusing only on the externals, slathering paint over the cracks and peeling paint, or, we can be honest with ourselves and with God.

It Doesn’t Go (Morning Companion)
General Motors had difficulty selling their popular Chevrolet Nova model south of the border, until someone figured out that Nova in Spanish means, “It doesn’t go”. (No va!)
Would you buy a car that “doesn’t go”?
Christianity, in order for it to be successful, must also be aware of the culture around it. Jesus and the earliest disciples all hailed from a Middle Eastern culture and were Jewish by religion and race. They viewed the world from the perspective of that people. But in order to break out of the culture of one people and to appeal to the entire world – a world that largely did not know the God of Israel – the peoples of other lands had to be approached from a perspective that they could understand.
When the Apostle Paul, who had the advantage of both a classical and a Jewish education, entered the picture, he was able to speak in terms understandable to both Jew and Greek. “To the Jews I became a Jew,” he wrote, “that I might win the Jews … To those not having the law I became like one not having the law (though I am not free from God’s law but am under Christ’s law), so as to win those not having the law … I have become all things to all men, that I might by all means save some.”
He knew how to approach people from their perspective, sometimes quoting their poets and always speaking their language. If Christianity is to capture the hearts of today’s world, today’s Christians need to learn all they can about popular culture and what makes the world tick. The language that worked in the more biblically aware world of fifty years ago cannot work today. It no longer works to tell people that they need to “be saved” – because most don’t even know they are lost. Telling them to repent of their sins when “repent” is meaningless and “sin” a doubtful concept will do little more than solidify in their minds a stereotype of Christianity.
Just like those marketing gurus in foreign lands, we can have the best of intentions, but the signals we send do not address who we are and what we stand for. Just as Paul could converse in the language of the day, we must do the same. We must approach people in a way that is meaningful for them, and quite often that means providing a meaning to life in this increasingly nihilistic world. It means learning the rationale behind the relativistic philosophies of the day and showing where such philosophies inevitably lead.
And it means living in a way that is consistent with our values, not only to give glory to God (which is important), but also to show that the way we walk works, even in a world that might scorn it.

Reverse Engineering Your Destiny (Sabbath Thoughts)
The seventh trumpet.
It’s the moment everything changes. It’s the reason “the whole creation groans and labors with birth pangs together until now” (Romans 8:22).
It’s the reason “we also who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, eagerly waiting for the adoption, the redemption of our body” (Romans 8:23).
As Christians, that trumpet will be the moment that defines us for eternity. As our Lord and Savior descends through the skies and voices from heaven proclaim Him King of kings and Lord of lords, we’ll either rise up to meet Him … or we won’t.
Those are the possibilities. There isn’t a third option. If our minds are open to God’s truth and we’ve accepted His calling, then this is our chance. This is our day of salvation. We don’t get to scoot into the second resurrection with the rest of the world and try again in round two.
“For everyone to whom much is given, from him much will be required; and to whom much has been committed, of him they will ask the more” (Luke 12:48).
We’ve been given much. How we live now – right now, today and every day that follows – determines what happens to us when Christ returns.
Do you want to be there on that day? Do you want to be made fully and completely into the image of God Himself? Do you want to live forever as a child of God?
Then reverse engineer it.
Start with the finished product – the moment you want to get to – and work backwards. The seventh trumpet sounds, and you’re transformed into a spirit being.
How did you get there?
Step backward in time. What kind of life did you live? What kind of choices did you have to make along the way? What did you value, and what did you let go of? What did you have to overcome? What aspects of your character changed – and what stayed the same?
Take another step backward. How did those changes happen? What habits did you develop or break that helped lead to them? Who influenced you – and whom did you have to step away from so they’d stop influencing you? What sacrifices did you have to get used to making, and what things were so important that you vowed to never let go of them?
Keep stepping backward from your future until you get to the present, then connect the dots.
God’s Word lays out the causes and effects pretty clearly. It explains how to fail and how to succeed. It’s our compass and our map, and God’s Spirit helps it all make sense. Using the tools we’ve been given, we chart our way to the finish line, plotting out a life that leads to hearing, “Well done, good and faithful servant” (Matthew 25:21).
Or we can ignore all that, let life push and pull us wherever it wants, and let the finish line catch us unprepared and unaware.
Because the seventh trumpet is going to sound. We will be judged based on how we live our lives in the days and years to come. What we have right now is the opportunity to correct course, to take a closer look at the direction we’re heading and to make sure it’s the direction we want to be heading.
This isn’t just a thought exercise. Your destiny hangs in the balance.
If you want to make sure it’s a good one, now’s the time to reverse engineer it.

A New Theory on the Mark of the Beast (Morning Companion)
In this piece I’m taking a different approach to what the Mark of the Beast might be. Search the ‘net and you’ll find plausible theories that range from embedded chips to which day to count as the Sabbath. I’m going to offer another theory which I gladly label “theory”. However, I’m coming to believe this more and more to be the real issue at hand. I welcome comments and insights.
He causes all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and slave, to receive a mark on their right hand or on their foreheads, and that no one may buy or sell except one who has the mark or the name of the beast, or the number of his name. (Revelation 13:16-17)
He shall speak pompous words against the Most High, shall persecute the saints of the Most High, and shall intend to change times and law. (Daniel 7:25)
This enigmatic mark of the beast has been interpreted in a number of different ways. Given modern technology some have posited that implanted microchips could be the fulfillment of this prophecy.
Others identify the mark as a change in the day kept as the Sabbath. Those who believe in this interpretation refer to such scriptures such as Ezekiel 20:12 and Exodus 31:13 where the seventh day Sabbath is referred to as a sign between God and his people. Thus, the mark of the beast would refer to a counterfeit Sabbath “sign”, and conditions would be such that the Fourth Commandment is made impossible to keep because of forced Sunday observance. Refusal to accept that sign would result in economic hardship.
This article is not intended to challenge either theory. It is intended to continue the conversation.
Let’s begin with the observation that the mark is placed on either the right hand or the forehead. In the book of Deuteronomy we find an interesting expression shortly after a listing of the Ten Commandments:
And these words that I command you today shall be in your heart … You shall bind them as a sign on your hand , and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. (Deuteronomy 6:6,8)
This suggests that the Ten Commandments should be the rule for what we do (“bind them as a sign on your hand”) and how we think (“they shall be as frontlets before your eyes”). The mark of the beast is also placed on the hand or the forehead, suggesting that this mark is some kind of counterfeit way of living and way of thinking.
In comparing with this Daniel 7:25 (“he shall intend to change the times and the laws”), could Revelation be telling us that the time is coming when all ten of the Ten Commandments will be supplanted by some other law? What possible civilized system could say that murder, lying, stealing, and every form of deviancy is not a crime?
It is not too far fetched to see the makings of such a world emerging today. The first four commandments deal with our relationship with and reverence for the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. We see Christian groups being banned form college campuses. We see churches and synagogues being attacked with violence and either marginalized as ignorant bigots (Christians) or incited against as shylocks, diamond merchants, and “it’s all about the Benjamins” (Jews). Prayer is prohibited in public places, and professions of faith are ruled out of order. Netflix feels free to spite Christians by portraying Jesus as a homosexual, and the Salvation Army has been assailed for its charity work with the accusation that their sincere desire to help those in need is no more than cover for the sinister purpose of ensnaring people into their religion.
As for “Thou Shalt not Kill”, do we need to bring up abortion for the millionth time, and do we need to remind people that several states allow newborns to be left to die without medical care as long as they are “kept comfortable”? Or that physician assisted suicide, formally known as euthanasia, is now in may places legally permissible?
Or how about the younger generations’ musings about how Boomers have ruined the world. Honoring one’s parents is being replaced by a resentment of the seasoned generations amid the accusation that they screwed up America, and it has become accepted for activists to co-opt our children, using them as bullhorns in loud attacks on the “Cause du Jour”.
And if you’re wondering about that “adultery” commandment, think of the deviancy now celebrated as alternative lifestyles, and if you disagree and say so, you might lose your job and be attacked and threatened mercilessly on social media. Children are celebrated when they or their parents decide it is perfectly normal to pump their kids full of hormones of the opposite sex and even contemplate major surgery to rearrange their sex organs. Worse, in some places it is not just considered bigotry but also illegal to try to help people clean up their lifestyles.
And “Thou shalt not steal”? Did you know that in some places such as California among several others, criminals who shoplift less than $950 per incident will not be prosecuted? Or what about the license some law enforcement agencies have to engage in “civil asset forfeiture“, which means they can seize your property without due process on only the suspicion of a crime, and it is often extremely difficult to recover those assets.
Do we need to talk about bearing false witness in a society where it’s illegal for you to lie to the government, but not for the government to lie to you? How about the growing trend of a culture where everyone is allowed to have his or her “own truth”.
And of course coveting what your neighbor has and electing people who promise to take other people’s property by force is now normal in our election campaigns.
That is why I’m floating the theory that the mark of the beast is much more all-encompassing that merely changing the Sabbath. It could well be that the passage in Revelation is about a complete revolution in how the culture views good and evil, right from wrong.

Prophetic Insight (New Horizons)
When we set out to explain prophecy the keynote must be to acknowledge ‘I’m probably wrong’. Down the centuries Bible pundits have been wrong – wrong more often than right.
Time and again it’s the date for the return of Jesus Christ that is wrongly predicted. So we wait. That will be a pivotal date for all of mankind, for it signals the overturn of our present civilization; and it is an inevitable and momentous event, an awesome event.
But its timing is locked in the counsel of the Father. Inevitable – so at some point in our trajectory through time Jesus will return. The divine plan will advance into a new phase. But that golden era is predicted to be preceded by a time of turbulence. The ‘wolf’ will come and will seek to devour what’s left of our civilization.
In regard to the final outcome, the real significance of prophecy, we can be certain that the final outcome will be exactly what God wants – and probably the process to achieve it will surprise us! Given that the likelihood of worldwide repentance and a return to the true God by all mankind is an unlikely outcome we turn to the apostle Paul:
‘…that day shall not come, except there come a falling away first, and that man of sin be revealed, the son of perdition; Who opposes and exalts himself above all that is called God, or that is worshipped; so that he as God sits in the temple of God, shewing himself that he is God’.
One aspect of this in dispute among Bible students is the ‘falling away’. For some it began in the first century (e.g. Acts 20:29, 1 John) as the church departed from the true teachings and absorbed pagan concepts.
For others it is an end-time event – within the true remnant of the Church of God.
Also in dispute is what the apostle means by the ‘temple’. Many understand it as referring to a yet-to-be-built – and perhaps imminent – physical Jewish Temple in Jerusalem, with a secular leader supported by the papacy (the ‘little horn’ of Daniel 9) seen as the fulfilment of antichrist who enforces his authority by ten European military powers.
Others refer the ‘temple’ to the church, to Christendom, or limited to the ‘true church’. In this scenario the papacy (also the little horn’, the then Pope) supported by Protestantism unveils himself as antichrist and wields the military power of the UN’s ten regions.
However the process might unfold, as true believers we should ‘sit light in the saddle’. The kaleidoscope of world events changes daily and can be confusing.
Yes – we must be always prepared – but a continuing spiritual preparedness.
It would be naïve to think that the ground-plans for such a coup have not been laid over many years, even centuries. Since earliest times despots and the ‘elite’ have sought to control their fellows, to build a world empire: Babylon, Alexander, Rome, Charlemagne, Napoleon, Hitler, to name a few.
Our own era witnesses the rise of so-called globalism – proposed as the solution to all our challenges. Mankind, however, doesn’t willingly trot into slavery. We must be seduced to comply – slowly, quietly, clandestinely, but ultimately by a manufactured fear that induces submission to those claiming to have the answer to lethal threats from man or from nature (or the ‘gods’). Under human jurisdiction such schemes begin benignly, but inevitably end in despotism, in draconian control of all resources (including human resources) to advantage a global elite motivated by dark spiritual forces. Such are still ‘out there’ and – however long delayed – we must each be constantly aware: ‘Be on the alert therefore, for you do not know the day on which your Lord is coming’ (Matthew 24:42).

Remember Lot’s Wife (Sabbath Thoughts)
The only thing we really know about Lot’s wife is that she looked back.
That’s it. We don’t know her name, we don’t know where she was from, we don’t even have a single line of dialogue from her. The angels warned Lot’s family to flee without looking back; Lot’s wife looked back “and she became a pillar of salt” (Genesis 19:26). That’s the only context we get. And for roughly two thousand years, this unnamed woman is little more than a footnote in Biblical history.
Then Jesus tells His disciples, “Remember Lot’s wife” (Luke 17:32).
It’s a short, haunting sentence. Remember Lot’s wife. Remember the woman who wasn’t ready to leave behind a world that God had marked for destruction. Remember the woman who looked back.
The clearest lesson from that warning ties in with Christ’s earlier assertion that “no one, having put his hand to the plow, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:62).
We’re doing this – or we’re not. We’re citizens of God’s eternal Kingdom – or we’re citizens of this temporary world. One or the other. We can’t have our feet in both, and we can’t spend our journey toward the Kingdom wishing we were back in the world we left behind.
That’s an important lesson. But what really gives me pause is the context of Christ’s warning. The Pharisees had asked when the Kingdom of God would come, and He warned His disciples not to fall for anyone’s false alarms – “for as the lightning that flashes out of one part under heaven shines to the other part under heaven, so also the Son of Man will be in His day” (Luke 17.24). It would, in other words, be sudden and impossible to miss. Just as important, it would catch the world by surprise – like the Flood in the days of Noah and like the fire and brimstone that destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah. “They ate, they drank, they bought, they sold, they planted, they built; but on the day that Lot went out of Sodom it rained fire and brimstone from heaven and destroyed them all. Even so will it be in the day when the Son of Man is revealed” (Luke 17:28-30). The event will be sudden, sweeping, unavoidable, unmistakable – judgment on a world determined to ignore or oppose the commandments of God.
With “the days of Noah” and “the days of Lot” (Luke 17:26,28) as a backdrop for the arrival of the Kingdom of God, Jesus continued:
It will be just like this on the day the Son of Man is revealed. On that day no one who is on the housetop, with possessions inside, should go down to get them. Likewise, no one in the field should go back for anything. Remember Lot’s wife! Whoever tries to keep their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life will preserve it. I tell you, on that night two people will be in one bed; one will be taken and the other left. Two women will be grinding grain together; one will be taken and the other left. (Luke 17:30-35, ESV)
What happens on the day the Son of Man is revealed?
Then the sign of the Son of Man will appear in heaven, and then all the tribes of the earth will mourn, and they will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory. And He will send His angels with a great sound of a trumpet, and they will gather together His elect from the four winds, from one end of heaven to the other. (Matthew 24:30-31)
The return of Jesus Christ is the moment when the faithful servants of God are transformed “in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet” (1 Corinthians 15:52). It’s the moment when the corruptible puts on incorruption, when the mortals put on immortality, when death is swallowed up in victory and the kingdoms of this world become the kingdoms of our Lord and of His Christ. That’s the moment Jesus is talking about.
And then He says, “Remember Lot’s wife.”
Is that possible? Is it possible for the people of God to come right up against the moment of their ultimate salvation and then look over their collective shoulders and think, “But I’m not ready to leave”? Can we get so attached to a world that is passing away, so involved and integrated into it, that when the time comes to leave, we’re not ready?
It’s not that we shouldn’t care about the people in this world. As Christians, we must. Jesus was moved with compassion for the multitudes, “because they were weary and scattered, like sheep having no shepherd” (Matthew 9:36). We should “weep with those who weep” (Romans 12:15) and “do good to all” (Galatians 6:10) as we have the opportunity. But a big part of letting go of the world means acknowledging that the answers and solutions the world needs aren’t in the world. As much as we should be making the effort to improve whatever corner of the world we find ourselves in, we do that knowing that the only way forward is leaving these broken foundations behind.
The Flood and the fire caught the world by surprise, but God’s people had a heads-up. They knew what was coming. We know what’s coming. We know who parades himself as the god of this world. We know he wants us to be distracted by and clinging to anything but the truth. We know he’s a master of making good look evil and evil look good.
When the time comes to go, will I miss what I’m leaving behind? Will I want to rush down from the rooftop, gather up my possessions and take all the cares of this world with me? Will I look back?
I hope not. That’s the uncomfortable question we all have to wrestle with. And I think that’s the key – we have to wrestle with it now. We have to start letting go of the world now if we want to be ready for the future that’s ahead of us – a future where, ultimately, we’ll be involved in fixing everything that the god of the age has broken and twisted. But we don’t get there by holding onto what we have here.
Remember Lot’s wife.

To the Least of These (The Word and The Way)
The King will answer and say to them, ‘Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.’ Matthew 25:40
I was able to facilitate some tangible help for a family of believers recently. I’m not actually doing the helping, but managed to get the right person to the right place to help these good people out. Once all the plans had been made, one of the family members started thanking me profusely. I tried to tell her that this is just what we are supposed to do and my ability to help them is more like a duty. I accepted the gratitude, but then she started to talk about repaying me in the future because nobody had ever helped them in the past.
A while later, what she told me rang in my head. This is a family that has been keeping the Sabbath and Holy Days for decades and nobody had helped them before, at least not to this degree and not without wanting something in return. What a travesty.
Unfortunately, it is common thing among the Church of God and Hebrew Roots believers to neglect the “love your neighbor” side of our faith. With our incredible devotion to studying erroneous doctrines of days gone by, attempts to find the perfect calendar, and mission to purge all uncleanness from our lives, it is easy to put the loving side on the back burner. Well, that’s part of the Torah, too.
You shall not take vengeance, nor bear any grudge against the sons of your people, but you shall love your neighbor as yourself; I am the Lord (YHVH). Leviticus 19:18.
Yes, that’s right. The first time that was said was NOT a mere 2000 years ago by the Messiah. It has been in the Torah all along. Further evidence is to be found in Isaiah chapter 1:
Your rulers are rebels and companions of thieves; everyone loves a bribe and chases after rewards. They do not defend the orphan, nor does the widow’s plea come before them. Isaiah 1:23
Isaiah chapter one has been misused for nearly two thousand years to say that YHVH does not care for the observance of the Moedim. But this is not what the chapter is saying. Those in Israel who were still observing the commanded days were doing it with the wrong heart. They were going through the rituals but at the same time they were neglecting widows and orphans and surely all other manner of loving their neighbors. While there have been some incredible injustices perpetrated on the assembly in recent decades, only a handful of people would rise to the level that was written about in Isaiah 1.
So the challenge I issue to the reader is this: read Matthew 25: 31-46 and all of Isaiah 1 a few times. These verses should inspire us to look up even more verses that exalt charitable and compassionate behavior. Meditate on this information. Concentrate on it. And act on it. Help out your neighbor. Help people you don’t even know. Be kind to someone who cuts you off in traffic or takes that parking space you had your eye on. Just be nice. Surely we are all already doing these things because we have had our hearts softened by the Spirit, but let’s be a light to those around us. Perhaps they will be drawn to that light.

When Authenticity Isn’t Enough (Sabbath Thoughts)
“Authentic” is the word to be these days.
To call something authentic – a business, a product, a person – is an incredible compliment, and most of us instinctively know what it means.
It means there’s no bait and switch. It means no one’s hands are tied by unhelpful customer service scripts and corporate double-speak. It means every interaction feels genuine, unaffected, kind, considerate, and intentional. It means the superfluous layers are stripped away, and what’s left behind is something relatable, enjoyable, and trustworthy. No games, no acts, no personas – just people being open and honest about who they are and what they’re doing, and conveying it in a way that doesn’t make them feel like emotionless robots.
I love it when things feel authentic. I love it when I’m not confronted by a high-pressure sale or forced to read between the lines to decode intentions and secret objectives. I love when I can relax and know that I’m in the presence of other people – not titles, not positions, not suits, not a status hierarchy, just … other people.
But “authentic” is also the dumbest standard in the world.
In school, you probably learned that words can have both a connotation and a denotation. Denotation is the dictionary definition of that word – the exact definition given to it by the good people at Merriam-Webster (or Oxford, or Cambridge, or whatever literary authority you turn to for your word clarification needs). Connotation is a different beast altogether. Connotation is all the ideas, concepts, and feelings that come bundled with a word – not just what the dictionary says about it, but what your head and your heart say about it, too.
When we talk about something’s authenticity, we’re mostly operating in the realm of connotation. We’re talking about a certain feeling, a certain experience, and “authenticity” communicates all that pretty effectively. But authentic (according to the good people at Merriam-Webster) really just means “not false or imitation” or “true to one’s own personality, spirit, or character.”
In a literal sense, authentic doesn’t mean good. It doesn’t mean enjoyable. It doesn’t mean friendly or uplifting or relatable. It just means “the real deal.” And sometimes, especially when it comes to human nature, the real deal is awful.
Connotations and denotations invariably start to blend into and influence each other – and so there’s a lot of encouragement out there for everyone to be their “authentic selves” and let the world see them for who they really are, because who you are is enough. If authentic is the only standard that matters, then no one needs to change. We all just need to work harder at being ourselves.
That’s not the Christian message, though. The Christian message is that there’s a serious problem at the core of our identity, and that if we don’t do something about it, we will die. The Christian message is that we need deliverance from “this body of death” (Romans 7:24). The Christian message is that we should not be “conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God” (Romans 12:2). The Christian message is that the old man must be crucified with Christ, and that “just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life” (Romans 6:4).
The Christian message is that a fundamental change in our identity is both necessary and beautiful. When you get right down to it, sin is authentic. Evil is authentic. Wickedness and perversity is authentic. And so just authentic isn’t enough. It’s a good starting place. None of us should be trying to hide who and what we are – but none of us should be content to stay who and what we are.
God isn’t looking to make you into His identical clone – but He is looking to reach into your heart and fix the broken, self-destructive things that are hiding there. He is looking to take hold of your character and chisel away the traits that cause pain to ourselves and to others. As we continue to “grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ” (2 Peter 3:18), God promises to transform us from just plain authentic to Godly.
This I say, therefore, and testify in the Lord, that you should no longer walk as the rest of the Gentiles walk, in the futility of their mind, having their understanding darkened, being alienated from the life of God, because of the ignorance that is in them, because of the blindness of their heart; who, being past feeling, have given themselves over to lewdness, to work all uncleanness with greediness.
But you have not so learned Christ, if indeed you have heard Him and have been taught by Him, as the truth is in Jesus: that you put off, concerning your former conduct, the old man which grows corrupt according to the deceitful lusts, and be renewed in the spirit of your mind, and that you put on the new man which was created according to God, in true righteousness and holiness. (Ephesians 4:17-24)
It turns out that “Godly” is the best kind of authentic we can be.

Betrayal (Morning Companion)
The disciples scattered in all directions when Jesus was arrested. The dreams they had associated with their version of the Messianic Kingdom were crushed. Instead of the spoils of victory from the defeat of their enemies, they were gazing into the maw of prosecution and possibly death. And so they fled.
But every one of the remaining eleven came back. Your friends might leave you in times of need, but in time through an act of grace they can be friends again.
Jesus, though denied and abandoned, went searching for those who had done the denying and abandoning. First he appeared to them in the upper room and encouraged them not to be afraid. Then he appeared to them in a more forceful way, especially with Peter, who had publicly denied him three times. Three times Jesus pointed his finger in Peter’s face and asked him to affirm his undying friendship, even if such affirmation would claim Peter’s life. Your friends might leave you in your time of need, whether from weakness or lack of character. Still, never burn bridges and never build walls. People do change.

The Last Trumpet (Sabbath Thoughts)
“I can tell you exactly when Christ will return.”
My ears perked up at hearing this, because that is their default response whenever I hear someone announce their intention to do what the Bible says is impossible.
“He’ll return at the moment of your last heartbeat … plus one.”
There are two great things about that last sentence. The first is that it isn’t laden with heresy, which is always a plus. The second is that it speaks to a matter of focus. With the world scene edging perpetually closer to a global meltdown, it’s hard not to have the same curiosity as the apostles and wonder, “Lord, will you at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?” (Acts 1:6). The apocalyptic end of human civilization as we know it is one of those things that would be really nice to have marked on our calendars – so when Christ replies, “It is not for you to know times or seasons which the Father has put in His own authority” (Acts 1:7), it’s hard to keep from taking a couple educated guesses anyway.
But we don’t know. We can’t. It certainly looks like God is lining up events to bring about the end times, but His people have literally thought that since the moment Christ ascended back into heaven. Paul even wrote about “we who are alive and remain” (1 Thessalonians 4:17) at Christ’s coming, indicating Paul believed that he would witness Christ’s return in his own lifetime. He was wrong, of course, and we could be too – and the most important part is, that’s not the most important part.
You and I, if we hold fast to our calling, are going to see Christ the moment after our last heartbeat. When that last trumpet sounds, it doesn’t matter if we died thousands of years beforehand or if we’re still living and breathing – our next moment of consciousness will be that of a spirit being belonging to the family of God.
The “when” doesn’t matter. What matters is that it’s coming. Make no mistake: that last trumpet will sound. The only question is whether or not you and I will be ready for it. Because the Christian journey isn’t a matter of studying for a final exam – as if we could wait until the very last minute to cram ourselves full of the right kind of character and then pass the test for entering the Kingdom of God. No, for converted, baptized Christians, the final exam is NOW.
Peter wrote, “the time has come for judgment to begin at the house of God” (1 Peter 4:17). We know that the rest of the world will have the opportunity to learn and accept God’s way after Christ’s return, but not us. Our time is now. Today. And when that trumpet does sound, if you aren’t being caught up in the air with the rest of the newly transformed saints, you missed the boat – your time is up. The five foolish virgins were in earnest when they begged to be let into the wedding (Matthew 25:11-12), but because they squandered their time in an unprepared state, they lost their opportunity.
One day, that final trumpet blast will reverberate across the heavens and serve as a wake up call for all those asleep in Christ. Our time is now, and it’s only getting shorter. If we want to be there on the day God calls forth His sons and daughters from their graves and into eternal life, then we need to get our act together today. The trumpet will sound. Will you be ready?

YHWH Nissi : The Lord Our Banner (Sabbath Thoughts)
Israel’s first real taste of battle came from an Amalekite surprise attack in the wilderness. Moses told Joshua, “Choose us some men and go out, fight with Amalek. Tomorrow I will stand on the top of the hill with the rod of God in my hand” (Exodus 17:9) . What happened next was a miracle: “And so it was, when Moses held up his hand, that Israel prevailed; and when he let down his hand, Amalek prevailed” (Exodus 17:11). With some support from his friends (holding a staff above your head for a day doesn’t sound too hard until you try and do it), “his hands were steady until the going down of the sun. So Joshua defeated Amalek and his people with the edge of the sword” (Exodus 17:12-13).
Amalek was defeated. Israel was victorious. But why? Because Moses held a magical stick in the air all day long? After the battle, Moses built an altar and named it YHWH Nissi – ”The-LORD-Is-My-Banner” (Exodus 17:15). It was a reminder where Israel’s victory had really come from – not from Moses, not from the people supporting him, and not even from the stick itself. The Eternal God has defeated Amalek, and He was the Banner of His people.
To really understand that sentiment, we first have to understand the role banners played in the ancient world. When I think of a standard or a banner, I usually think of a colorful, ornamental cloth emblazoned with some elaborate crest or design – but that’s not necessarily how they worked in Israel’s day.
The International Standard Bible Encyclopedia notes that the Hebrew words degel [H5251] and nes [H1714] indicate “a flag, streamer, or wrought emblem” affixed to the end of a pole and that “the purpose of the banner was to indicate the rallying point for any group holding a common cause.”
We don’t know exactly what Israelite banners looked like, but it’s interesting to note that the bronze serpent God instructed Moses to build in the wilderness was fashioned as a banner [nes] as well (Numbers 21:8).
When God instructed Israel how to set up camp in the wilderness, He explained that “the people of Israel shall camp each by his own standard, with the banners of their fathers’ houses” (Numbers 2:2, English Standard Version). The rest of the chapter deals with the marching order and camping layout of each tribe, as well as a record of the size of each tribe’s army.
Whatever form those standards and banners took, they served a valuable purpose for the Israelites: Identification.
This was a nation of hundreds of thousands of people, but banners made it possible to identify tribes at a glance. There was Judah’s banner, and there was Simeon’s, and over there was Dan’s – there was never any doubt about what tribe was where.
In battle, the banner became even more important. With the ancient Romans, we know that “the Standard was important as a rallying point, symbol of pride and, more practically, as a means of communication in battle. A trumpet blast would draw the attention of the troops to the Standard which would then direct which action should be taken on the field. The Standard bearer would lower, raise, wave, or make some other motion with the Standard to indicate what the next move was for the troops or to change some tactic or formation.”
Warfare was loud. Communicating instructions to an entire army mid-battle was a challenge, but banners made it possible for soldiers to see instructions they couldn’t hear. Was it time to fall back? Surge forward? Change formation? Regroup? The banner was there to make it clear.
In many ways, Moses was something of a standard-bearer during the battle with Amalek. He was high atop a hill, raising a pole in the air on behalf of the army of God. Maybe that’s why he was so quick to build an altar that would remind the people that the real banner of Israel was not any masterfully crafted metal emblem or flag, but the Master Craftsman Himself – the LORD Our Banner.
David knew it, too. “You have given a banner to those who fear You, that it may be displayed because of the truth … Through God we will do valiantly, for it is He who shall tread down our enemies” (Psalm 60:4,12). And again: “We will rejoice in your salvation, and in the name of our God we will set up our banners!” (Psalm 20:5). Jesus Himself was prophesied as “a Root of Jesse, who shall stand as a banner to the people” (Isaiah 11:10). All those hats you wear; all those things you are – which one is most important? Which one is the one you’d cling to if all the others were being ripped from you, one by one?
What is your banner? What is the primary flag you stand under when it’s time to say, “This is me, this is my identity, this is who I am at my very core”?
You have a lot of options – but you only have one good option.
The LORD Our Banner. When we set up camp, He needs to be our identity; our unmistakable, defining marker. When others are looking for us, they can find us here, under the banner of our God. And when we step onto the battlefield, it is YHWH Nissi who gives us instruction, who guides us to victory, who treads down our enemies.
What would you want on your gravestone if you could only have a single epitaph.The best inscription I could hope for is: “Here lies a good Christian.”
The battle rages on. Follow your Banner.

I Made a Mistake (The Word and The Way)
I made a mistake last week. OK, I am sure I made more than one, but I made one that had immediate ramifications. Throughout life we make mistakes continually and need to atone for them. Perhaps we forget to pay a bill on time and incur a financial penalty. Maybe we say things to loved ones in the heat of the moment that can’t be taken back. These mistakes start long before the incident occurs, because we should not even permit ourselves to think evil of our loved ones, but it happens. Thinking about our mistakes too much can lead to depression which can lead to more mistakes.
The mistakes we make to each other can often be made right, but what about the mistakes we make with YHVH? How do we atone for those mistakes? What can we give the Creator to compensate for our sins since He created everything? Remember, He is a very jealous God, so He does notice when we deviate from His will, especially if we were supposed to know better. “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life. For God did not send the Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world might be saved through Him. He who believes in Him is not judged; he who does not believe has been judged already, because he has not believed in the name of the only begotten Son of God. This is the judgment, that the Light has come into the world, and men loved the darkness rather than the Light, for their deeds were evil. For everyone who does evil hates the Light, and does not come to the Light for fear that his deeds will be exposed. But he who practices the truth comes to the Light, so that his deeds may be manifested as having been wrought in God.” John 3:16-21
Well, right there is the plan for how we make ourselves right with YHVH. We have to believe in His Son and then come into the light. Belief that YHVH sent His Son to die for our sins is the starting point. The next part, coming into the light, takes incredible effort. It really shouldn’t take that much effort, though. If we stop and think about it, either we step into the light now or it gets shined on us at the judgment. Either way, all of our deeds will be exposed.
Often times, when we quote scripture, we forget the context of what we are citing. This is very true of the verses I just referenced above. All of us read those verses like they are written specifically to us. We read them like a letter to all mankind. But that’s not what is happening there. I believe those words were preserved for the purpose of all mankind, but there is a context and it is quite profound.
Now there was a man of the Pharisees, named Nicodemus, a ruler of the Jews; this man came to Jesus by night and said to Him, “Rabbi, we know that You have come from God as a teacher; for no one can do these signs that You do unless God is with him.” John 3:1-2 (emphasis added)
Nicodemus came to Yeshua at night. The entire conversation takes place in the dark. Yeshua was scolding Nicodemus for coming to Him in secret. Nicodemus wanted to become a closet believer and Yeshua knew it. Nicodemus wanted to retain his high position among the Jews and also strike up a relationship with the Messiah. He wanted to have his cake and eat it, too. He was conflicted. Yeshua’s teaching in this dialogue has many layers but he essentially told Nicodemus, “If you want to be part of this, you’re going to have to do it where everyone can see”. This is the same theme when Yeshua said that he who loves his live will lose it.
In John 7:50, Nicodemus sticks up for Yeshua. OK, he doesn’t do that, but he does start to come out of his shell a little and tries to help out while maintaining his distance. But at John 19:39, Nicodemus’s conversion is complete as he is there to help bury the dead Messiah. At this point, Nicodemus has fully come into the light and no longer cares that all will know of his belief in Yeshua. It was the preparation day for Pesach and Nicodemus, a high ranking Jew of the Pharisees, was clearly not where he was supposed to be. This well recognized man was now converted and had taken hundred pounds of supplies to bury a dead body, thus defiling himself from observing Pesach. Remember how the Jews wouldn’t even enter the Praetorium to accuse Yeshua because that would defile them? Now Nicodemus, one of their rulers, is openly defiling himself because he knows it is the right thing to do.
As we enter into the Passover season and recall our mistakes, let’s take Nicodemus’s transformation into consideration. We all make mistakes. Sometimes we make them so often we just can’t fathom a time without mistakes. But let’s keep in mind the gravity of the Messiah’s sacrifice and be strong in our belief that God did indeed send His Son that whoever believes in Him shall not perish. Those mistakes that we make which we cannot atone for have been covered, if we believe and come into the light.

How to Grow Old Poorly (Sabbath Thoughts)
The problem with getting older is that it happens when you’re not looking. There was a time in my life when no sane human being would have classified me as “old.” Now I seem to have reached a point in life where most sane human beings wouldn’t classify me as old – but I’m starting to notice exceptions. I don’t get carded at restaurants anymore. I just bought a house. I find myself telling younger people about life when I was their age.
Whoa. Sorry. This is supposed to be a Sabbath Thought, not a Sabbath Creeping Existential Horror. And I know, I know – there are those of you reading this and saying, “Oh, come on, Jeremy. You’re still a kid. Why, I remember when I was your age …”
But I also know that some small handful of you are reading this and saying, “It’s not so bad, Mr. Lallier. You have plenty of years left. Maybe even an entire decade or two!” And to you, dear readers, I can only say that when I was your age –
No. No. Not doing this. I was making a point, and the point was …
The point was …
Oh. Right. The point was that, whatever side of the spectrum you think I’m on, I’m still getting older. We all are. And at some undefined moment in the future, if all things continue as they have been, I’ll cross a threshold where most sane human beings will call me old. That moment is going to do a number on my psyche, but it’s coming and there’s nothing I can do about it.
But as much as this post is heading into decidedly morbid territory (especially for my brothers-in-law – most of whom are reading this and all of whom, I should point out, are older than me), I did have a reason for steering it this direction. I was digging through Proverbs recently when I came across an intriguing passage:
The silver-haired head is a crown of glory,
If it is found in the way of righteousness. (Proverbs 16:31)
It turns out the “if” isn’t there in the Hebrew manuscripts. It was added by translators who felt it best conveyed the original meaning of the verse – which fascinates me, because it makes the verse conditional. And it makes sense. There are two ways to get gray hair: You can find it in the way of righteousness, and you can find it outside the way of righteousness.
Only one of those routes is pleasing to God – and only one of those outcomes can be called a crown of glory. Even if the “if” doesn’t belong in that particular verse, the same principle shows up in other passages.
The gray-headed deserve respect and deference (Leviticus 19:32), but Solomon notes:
“Better a poor and wise youth than an old and foolish king who will be admonished no more” (Ecclesiastes 4:13).
Elihu recognized that, “age should speak, and multitude of years should teach wisdom” (Job 32:7), but he also understood that “great men are not always wise, nor do the aged always understand justice” (Job 32:9). It’s entirely possible to reach the trappings of old age without learning the lessons God has for us along the way.
So. Which way are you walking?
If you’re young and still getting carded at restaurants, it might seem like you have a few more years to really worry about it, but you don’t. “The way of righteousness” isn’t a lifestyle God calls us to adopt once the gray hairs start coming. He calls us to start living it now – so that by the time the gray hairs do come, you (and others!) can look at them and see the crown of glory God intended them to be. We can’t backfill time – the decisions you’re making now are the decisions you’ll be looking back on one day, though whether that’s with regret or fondness is up to you.
And if you’re already in the gray-haired camp, have you missed the boat? Is the time for doing already over? Is your crown destined to only ever be what it already is?
Far from it. We’re all still getting older, and that’s something to be glad about. You can’t undo the choices of yesterday, but each new day means new decisions – opportunities to repair a lackluster crown or make a good crown even better. That’s true no matter what color your hair happens to be.
The secret to growing old poorly is to ignore everything we’ve covered today. Make bad decisions, tell yourself you’re too young or too old for them to matter, and continue plowing ahead. It’s easy – but it’s not what God wants. Gray hair, found in the way of righteousness, is a crown of glory – a crown God wants all of us to find. Elihu was right: Age should speak, and multitude of years should speak wisdom. Old age is a gift that ought to provide us with insight and experience to share with the increasing number of people who classify us as “old.”
What you’ll have to offer then depends on the path you’re walking now. If you haven’t already found it, there’s a crown of glory waiting for each of us on the way of righteousness. Let’s go get it.

Close Enough? … only in Horseshoes (New Church Lady)
When I worked as a teacher’s aide I was surprised by the number of times some child would rudely ask how old I was. I can only assume that my age, in their minds, was germane to my ability to help them with school work. I would always say, “What do you think?” Then, whatever they guessed (and guesses ranged from 30-60), I’d say, “Close enough.”
As a Christian, is “close enough” ever enough? I say “no.”
As proof, let me offer up Matthew 5:48 in several translations:
ESV: You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.
NLT: But you are to be perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect.
KJV: Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.
We are admonished to hit the mark of perfection, not to just get close.
This admonition comes at the end of a chapter that begins with the “Beatitudes” and follows those with even harder things like, these:
Not only should you not murder – don’t even call someone a fool:
Verses 21-22: “You have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not murder; and whoever murders will be liable to judgment.’ But I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment; whoever insults his brother will be liable to the council; and whoever says, ‘You fool!’ will be liable to the hell of fire.
Not only should you not swear falsely – don’t even be a person whose truthfulness can be questioned:
And verses 33-34: “Again you have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not swear falsely, but shall perform to the Lord what you have sworn.’ 34 But I say to you, Do not take an oath at all, either by heaven, for it is the throne of God’.
Not only should you not seek revenge – don’t even resist evil:
And verses 38-39: “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ 39 But I say to you, Do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.
Not only should you not hate your enemy – you must return good for the evil:
And verses 43-44: “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.
These are some tough standards.
One word translated “sin” in the New Testament is hamartanō and one definition of hamartanō is to “miss the mark.” Another word translated “sin” is very similar – hamartia. It also can mean “miss the mark.” Anything short of “hitting the bull’s eye” of perfection is sin.
There is an old saying that “close only counts in horseshoes.” That is as true for our Christian walk as for anything else. As a Christian, close enough is not enough.
But I have good news for us all, and it is found in 1 John 2:1-2 [ESV] My little children, I am writing these things to you so that you may not sin. But if anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous. He is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the sins of the whole world.
The word translated “sin” in 1 John 2:1 is hamartanō. If anyone misses the mark, we have Jesus as our advocate.
In addition, we find the following in John 1:29 [NIV] The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and said, “Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.”
The word translated “sin” in John 1:29 is hamartia. If anyone misses the mark, we have Jesus, the Lamb that takes away our sin.
The mark we are called to hit is perfection. We are told to become perfect, as the Father is perfect. Close doesn’t count. If you are anything like me, perfection “ain’t gonna happen” in this life.
Praise God that Jesus’s blood covers the distance between my best shot and the actual bull’s eye we are called to hit. But we must never be content with close enough. We must always strive to hit the mark “dead on”. We must be working our way, each day, ever closer to perfection and rest in comfort that Jesus covers the gap.

Imagine there’s no heaven … and no religion too (Morning Companion) 
I was meeting up with a church group representing various countries that had received permission to hold our annual Fall Festival known as the Feast of Tabernacles in the Czech city of Brno. This was not to proselytize, but to serve church brethren from East Germany who were allowed to make the trip to the neighboring Communist country without much trouble.
It was a trip that changed my life and perspective.
We were told before we crossed from Austria to Czechoslovakia that we could talk to our East German brothers and sisters all we wanted while in the meeting hall, but once outside the hall we needed to be careful. Everything was being watched.
We were told that they were unable to receive religious literature, but to get around that restriction, brethren in West Germany would write out in long hand — in the form of a letter — articles from various sources and mail it to them.
The people from East Germany did not have enough money to buy meals, so they would take dinner rolls and so forth from the luncheon table and save them for their next meal.
I remember the contrast in countries and atmosphere when crossing the barbed wire and fortifications between Austria and Czechoslovakia, and then back across to West Germany the following week. One side was colorful, green, and prosperous. The other was drab, grey, and coldly inefficient. Public housing looked like public housing, and everyone lived in public housing.
The border was a maze of fortifications and barbed wire, and unlike most places, the buses were searched by dogs and guards more thoroughly when leaving country than when trying to enter it.
The workers’ paradise had rivers full of industrial waste. Protecting the environment was not a priority when there was not enough capital to both control pollution  and support a barely-above poverty standard of living. If we had talked about carbon dioxide as being a pollutant, they would have either pitied us or laughed at us.
If ever there was a laboratory experiment to compare socialism and capitalism, of central control vs. freedom, it was the world as seen during the Cold War. There could be no doubt which system delivered a better life for its people because Western Europe and Eastern Europe could not have been a starker contrast.  Central to that freedom was the contrast between those nations that allowed for religious liberty vs. those that actively discouraged it. Why do oppressive regimes fear when their citizens are allowed to think for themselves on matters of faith?
I could go on about the citizens of Brno whom we talked to briefly on the streets and their furtive looks as we did so. I could talk about their concern about being trailed by informers and the lack of even basic goods. Instead I will simply say that when I landed at Kansas City International, I really did want to kiss the ground. My view of my blessings and my country were changed forever by a visit to a land where there was a famine of the Word.
So today, when I see what appears to be an intentional and planned disparagement of Christianity and the Bible in my own country, I think back to my week-long foray into a time and place where faith was successfully marginalized to a few old churches visited mostly by museum goers.  So when prominent politicians begin using the term “freedom of worship” rather than “freedom of religion,” my antenna goes up. I thought of that nearly empty church and where the conventional wisdom of that worldview leads: you can follow whatever liturgy you want in specially designated places of worship, but be careful what you teach, make sure it’s politically correct, and otherwise leave it in the building. You may have a form of religion, but you must deny the power of it.
I’m going to end this piece with a video. You’ll recognize the music and the artist. The music is wonderful and soothing. That’s part of the propaganda effect.  But listen to the words.  Listen for the utopian dream of a world without God, without borders, without property. Yet history teaches us that every time mankind tries to implement a utopian dream it becomes a dystopian nightmare. I saw it in 1983, and there are places in the world where it is happening today. We can’t let them bring it here.

Vegging Out (Sabbath Meditations)
It had been a stressful day. All I could think of doing after leaving work was to get home, grab the remote, claim some couch real estate, and use as little brain power as possible. Basically, I just wanted to veg out.
I’m confident I wasn’t the only one on the highway who felt that way. In fact, our lifestyles have gotten so hectic that whole industries are dedicated to helping people find new ways to do absolutely nothing. They couldn’t find a group of more willing consumers. Given the chance to finally relax, we readily reach for the remote, head to the theatre, crank up the stereo, turn on the video games, turn off our brains and become part of the plant kingdom.
The downside of our growing appetite for this type of mindless entertainment is that we spend less and less time pursuing activities that bring deep, lasting pleasure and satisfaction. Activities such as learning to play an instrument, mastering another language, reading a classic piece of literature, studying God’s word, spending time in prayer or thoughtful meditation have, for many, become casualties of our frenzied lifestyles. These activities require work, effort and mental energy. When we’re tired, exhausted from the stresses of life, it’s natural for us to take the path of least resistance, least effort.
The other day I came upon a scripture, a prayer of David, that had quite an impact on me. In Psalms 119:37 David asks God to “Turn away my eyes from looking at worthless things, And revive me in Your way.” To put it in the modern vernacular, “Help me to put down the remote; and get fired up about the things that matter.”
It’s a prayer I’ve begun to make my own of late. I don’t want always to go down the path of least resistance. I don’t want constantly to give in to the mindless pursuits that saturate this culture and so easily divert my attention. It might take some effort. It might mean re-ordering my priorities somewhat. But I’m determined to get off the couch and get engaged in pursuits that really matter, that truly bring lasting value and satisfaction. Chief among them the things that strengthen my relationship with my God.
Not that I’ll never allow myself to “veg out” again. Sometimes the brain just needs to sit on idle. It’s okay once in a while. It’s just a practice whose roots I refuse to let go too deep.

Tedious Graffiti and Idle Scribbles (Sabbath Thoughts)
Before the city of Pompeii was entombed with ash for 1,500 years, it was covered with something else entirely: Graffiti.
The eruption that destroyed the city ironically preserved the Latin scribblings of the Romans who lived there – and if that graffiti goes to show anything, it’s that not much has changed in the past few millennia.
Some people left their mark:
Gaius Pumidius Dipilus was here on October 3rd 78 BC. (That date was, of course, converted in the translation process.)
Aufidius was here. Goodbye.
Staphylus was here with Quieta.
Romula hung out here with Staphylus.
Publius Comicius Restitutus stood right here with his brother.
Some declared their love:
Caesius faithfully loves M.
Figulus loves Idaia.
Marcus loves Spendusa.
Rufus loves Cornelia Hele.
Hectice, baby, Mercator says hello to you.
Some left wisdom:
Traveler, you eat bread in Pompeii but you go to Nuceria to drink. At Nuceria, the drinking is better.
Once you are dead, you are nothing.
A small problem gets larger if you ignore it.
Remove lustful expressions and flirtatious tender eyes from another man’s wife; may there be modesty in your expression.
Some left insults:
Samius to Cornelius: go hang yourself!
Epaphra, you are bald!
Virgula to her friend Tertius: you are disgusting!
Some left warnings:
This is not a place to idle. Shove off, loiterer.
The finances officer of the emperor Nero says this food is poison.
Postpone your tiresome quarrels if you can, or leave and take them home with you.
Of course, many left incredibly lewd and disgusting comments that I won’t bother to reproduce here – not unlike your average bathroom stall at a rest station.
And some people… uh, made bread:
On April 19th, I made bread.
But my favorite piece of vandalism by far is scrawled on the Basilica, which functioned as Pompeii’s court and town hall. There are a ton of remarks here, but one stands out:
O walls, you have held up so much tedious graffiti that I am amazed that you have not already collapsed in ruin. 
There’s a certain sense of irony that this inscription managed to survive the calamity wreaked by Mt. Vesuvius – but irony aside, it’s a phrase that’s stayed with me since I first came across it two decades ago. (The translation I heard back then was, I wonder, O wall, that you have held up under the weight of so many idle scribblings.) 
Tedious graffiti. Idle scribblings.
Do you have a wall you like to write on?
There’s the obvious analogy of social media – everyone on Facebook has a “wall” you can write on – but I want to go a little broader than that.
Where are you focusing your creative energies? Where are you investing your time?
Is there a wall in your life that you’re filling up with tedious graffiti? Is it worth it?
At the end of the day, there’s really only one wall worth focusing on – the wall whose “foundation … is Jesus Christ. Now if anyone builds on this foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw, each one’s work will become clear; for the Day will declare it, because it will be revealed by fire; and the fire will test each one’s work, of what sort it is. If anyone’s work which he has built on it endures, he will receive a reward. If anyone’s work is burned, he will suffer loss; but he himself will be saved, yet so as through fire” (1 Corinthians 3:11-15).
Nothing wrong with hobbies. Nothing wrong with creative outlets. Nothing wrong with having fun. But not every wall in our lives deserves equal attention – and if we’re not taking the time to add to the right foundation with the right materials, we may find that the only thing we’ve really accomplished is a portfolio of idle scribblings. 
Against all odds, the “tedious graffiti” of Pompei’s Basilica was preserved for centuries. We know where Gaius Pumidius Dipilus was on October 3rd, 78 BC. We know someone baked some bread on April 19th. We know Marcus loved Spendusa, and we have reason to believe Epaphra was bald.
So what? In the end, even those walls won’t last. When the Day of the Lord comes and “the heavens … pass away with a great noise, and the elements … melt with fervent heat; both the earth and the works that are in it will be burned up” (2 Peter 3:10) – and 6,000 years of tedious human graffiti along with it.
You, on the other hand, have the opportunity to contribute to something lasting, meaningful, and precious. Better get building.

If God intervened, why did a bystander die? (Morning Companion) 
Let me be blunt. I don’t know if it was divine intervention that saved Donald Trump’s life and neither does anyone else. Maybe it happened that way, maybe it didn’t. If it was divine intervention, that raises all kinds of theological questions, a big one being this: if God intervened to protect Mr. Trump’s life, why did he let the bullet take the life of Mr. Comperatore, and why did two other bullets critically wound two other event attendees? 
Think about this. God could have intervened to stop the would-be assassin before he got near the building. The bullet could have been deflected by some guardian angel to a nearby empty field. Or the rifle could have jammed. Possibilities go on and on. Not to mention the point that Adolf Hitler’s life did not end when a briefcase exploded mere feet from him. Was that divine intervention too? 
Commentator Ben Shapiro, for one, has posited that there certainly was divine intervention, not to anoint Mr. Trump, but rather to save the country from social unrest that would resemble range warfare. 
For believers these are all tough theological questions, and it is best to see how the events play out before we can discern any divine purpose. The Book of Job is instructive at times like this. Most of the book is a discussion among friends who are trying to decipher the Almighty’s purposes in the face of human suffering. They float almost every theory in the same way we do today until Yahweh himself shows up and rebuts all the participants including Job for their presumptuousness. But the odd thing is, God never resolves the question. The substance of his response is an unsatisfying assertion that he is God and they are not, saying in essence, “Trust me. I know what I’m doing.” This is echoed in Isaiah: 
My thoughts are not your thoughts, and your ways are not my ways. (Isaiah 55:8) 
Later, Paul hints at the same thing in his first letter to the Corinthians: 
We know in part, and we prophesy in part, but when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away. When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child, but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass darkly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then shall I know as also I am known. (I Corinthians 13:9-12) 
So if you were to ask me my opinion on the Donald Trump event (though no one actually has), I would say this: let’s wait and see how the story ends. Even then, we won’t know the full story until we cross the Jordan, for no one is told any story but their own.

A Good Work (Sabbath Thoughts)
“And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ” (Philippians 1:6, ESV). 
That’s about you.
And all of us.
But also you.
God began a good work in you, and He’s going to complete a good work in you. Nothing short of you giving up and walking away is going to change that. That’s all I wanted to say today.
Hang in there and keep moving forward.

Lights, Baskets and Good Deeds (Sabbath Thoughts)
If you’re doing good things in order to be seen, you’re doing them for the wrong reason. But if you’re doing good things, you will be seen.
“For everyone practising evil hates the light and does not come to the light, lest his deeds should be exposed” (1 John 3:20).
Spiritually, the world is a dark place that’s only getting darker. And a light in a dark room is impossible to miss.
“Beware of practising your righteousness before other people in order to be seen by them” (Matthew 6:1, ESV), Jesus warns us. But that’s a question of motivation, not action.
Don’t do it to be seen. That doesn’t mean don’t do it.
“You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a lamp stand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven” (Matthew 5:14-16).
A quote from the same sermon. Your light cannot be hidden. It’s simply not possible. Nor should it be hidden. That’s not its purpose. Our genuine desire to do what’s right – not because of who’s watching, but simply because it is right – will ultimately put the spotlight back on our Father in heaven. And that’s the goal. That’s why we refuse to hide under a basket.
Whatever good others see in us is ultimately a reflection of the good that exists within God. We do good deeds, we do the right things, not worrying about whether others will see us and what they’ll think of us – but hoping instead that they catch a glimpse of the goodness of God in action.
Hoping that our actions give them reason to glorify God.
The lamp isn’t really what’s important. The light it carries is.

Written on Your Doorposts (Sabbath Thoughts)
“Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one! You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength. And these words which I command you today shall be in your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, when you walk by the way, when you lie down, and when you rise up. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates” (Deuteronomy 6:4-9). 
Look at the emphasis there. Look how comprehensive it is. In your heart.
Teaching them diligently. Talking of them in the house, by the way, when you lie down, when you rise up. Bound on your hands, placed between your eyes, written on your doorposts and gates. 
Am I that engaged with the Word of God? 
Is it in my heart? Is it on my mind when I wake up and when I go to bed at night – or is my mind elsewhere? Is it guiding what I do with my hands, where I look with my eyes, and where I travel with my feet? Is it just as important to me inside my home as it is outside of it? Do I take every opportunity to share its guiding principles with my children?
I wish I could say the answer is an absolute, unqualified yes for every one of those questions. But it’s not. I don’t always measure up to those standards – but I want to. You do, too. And sometimes, it helps to hold up that passage like a mirror to our spiritual life and ask, “How am I doing? Where have I improved? Where am I falling short?”
David asked, “Where can I go from Your Spirit? Or where can I flee from Your presence?” (Psalm 139:7). And that’s the goal, I think – to feel like there’s no area of our lives where God and His Word don’t have a place. When we walk, we take that Word with us. When we lie down, when we rise up – whatever we do, wherever we look, wherever we are – we take it with us.
The goal is to have it always there in our heart – because we value it enough to keep it there. Even when other things try to push it out, we make sure it has a constant, immovable place. We need to make sure it’s woven into the very fabric of our day-to-day life – that there’s nowhere we can go where it isn’t already firmly rooted. That’s the goal.
Today is a chance to do it better than we did yesterday. It’s time to be diligent.

Praising the God Who Takes Away (Sabbath Thoughts)
It’s easy to praise the God who gives you what you ask for. The God who opens doors of opportunity for you. The God who pours down blessings on you from the windows of heaven. The God who silences your enemies and builds a protective hedge around you and bears you up in the arms of angels lest you dash your foot against a stone. But that’s not always what happens. Sometimes, God takes away the things (and the people) we love. Sometimes He shuts doors. Sometimes He bars heaven from pouring out anything at all. Sometimes He lets our enemies win, allows disaster to trample the hedge, and does nothing to soften our landing. Harder to praise that kind of a God. Harder to tell Him, “I love You, I trust You, and I will obey You.”
I’m always amazed at Job’s capacity for that kind of praise. In the span of less than a minute, four servants rush in and interrupt each other to tell Job that he has lost everything. His livestock, his servants, and his children – all destroyed in a nightmarish avalanche of supernatural destruction and human greed (Job 1:13-18). He responds by tearing his clothes and shaving his head in an act of mourning, then he “fell to the ground and worshiped” (Job 1:20). Worshiped. At a moment in time when all the available evidence pointed to God as the culprit behind the tragedies, Job chooses to worship. And he says:
Naked I came from my mother’s womb, And naked shall I return there. The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; Blessed be the name of the LORD. (Job 1:21)
Job didn’t know that Satan was the one gunning for him – trying to spiritually shatter him to prove a point. But he did know that God was at least allowing all this to happen.
Even when God gives Satan a longer leash and Job’s health is degraded to the point that his own friends don’t recognize him (Job 2:6-8,12), with his own wife encouraging him to “curse God and die!” (Job 2:9), Job refuses to speak against his Creator. “Shall we indeed accept good from God, and shall we not accept adversity?” (Job 2:10).
None of us have experienced the kind of crushing blow that felled Job to the ground. But all of us have had moments in our lives when God has allowed us to experience pain, suffering, and loss. And like Job, we don’t always get to know the reason why. Sometimes we can’t even guess at the reason. Sometimes all we have is the promise that God loves us and that He knows what He’s doing – and we have to trust that it will all make sense one day. One day – when we can see what God sees and understand what God understands. But not right now.
I have a lot of respect for Job – to be able to endure that kind of a loss, that kind of physical and emotional pain, and still offer God worship and praise. There’s a lot more to Job’s story. A lot of important insights and lessons. But if the book had ended right here, two chapters in, we still would have been left with a powerful lesson – and a powerful example. The man who praised the God who takes away.

The Enemy of Holiness (Sabbath Thoughts)
How do you make something holy? Trick question – you can’t.
You can keep something holy, like the Sabbath. God told us to “remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy” (Exodus 20:8). Once every seven days, we make an effort to maintain the holiness of the 24 hours God that set aside on the seventh day of creation (Genesis 2:3). But we don’t make it holy. It already is holy. We just keep it that way.
How do you make something unholy? Not a trick question – you can, and it’s easy to do. God instructed the prophet Haggai to “‘ask the priests concerning the law, saying, “If one carries holy meat in the fold of his garment, and with the edge he touches bread or stew, wine or oil, or any food, will it become holy?” Then the priests answered and said, ‘No.’ And Haggai said, ‘If one who is unclean because of a dead body touches any of these, will it be unclean?’ So the priests answered and said, ‘It shall be unclean’” (Haggai 2:11-13).
It’s a one-way street. Contact with holy things can’t make common things holy – but contact with unclean things makes holy things unclean. When we make something unholy, we have defiled it or profaned it. We’ve made it common or ordinary – we’ve taken it off the pedestal God prepared for it, and we’ve treated it like something unimportant and insignificant.
What’s interesting is that a profane thing isn’t automatically a bad thing. Ahimelech told David that he had no profane bread available – no common or ordinary bread (1 Samuel 21:4). All he had on hand was holy bread – the shew bread, which had been set apart by God. Profane bread isn’t bad bread – it’s just bread that isn’t sacred. It’s the kind we eat every day; the kind that isn’t intended to sit in the temple before the presence of God.
Profanity is a problem when we use it to take something holy and make it common. The Sabbath. The name of God. Our marriages. Our identity as God’s people. These are things God has made holy – consecrated – set apart from the normal and ordinary. We can’t make these things holy. But we’ve been charged by God with keeping them holy – keeping them safe from the profaning influence of the world’s uncleanness.
How are you doing on that front?
Today, on this Sabbath, have you been making the effort to keep these holy hours holy? Or have you been letting the profanity of the rest of the week creep in? I like how the NET Bible translates this passage from Isaiah:
You must observe the Sabbath rather than doing anything you please on my holy day. You must look forward to the Sabbath and treat the LORD’s holy day with respect.
You must treat it with respect by refraining from your normal activities,
and by refraining from your selfish pursuits and from making business deals.(Isaiah 58:13, NET)
The profane, the normal, the average and everyday things don’t belong in the spaces God has made holy. We can’t make them that way – but it is our privilege to keep them that way.

Growth Happens in the Secret Places (Sabbath Thoughts)
We forget that, sometimes. It’s easy to think of growth as visible, obvious, easy to point to and say, “There it is.” But it’s not.
We see the fruits of growth in others. The by-products. We don’t see the actual growth, because that’s happening deep under the surface, where no one else can see.
That’s where it’s happening for you, too. Under the surface, in a place only you and God can see. Sometimes only God.
So many times now, I’ve watched my kids struggling for days or even months to master something. Walking, talking, using the potty, sure, but then a host of other things besides. Dancing. Blowing a harmonica. Drawing a picture. Expressing a complex thought. Brushing teeth. Singing. Pouring a glass of milk. Jumping. Handling emotions. Turning the pages of a book. Recognizing numbers and letters and pictures. They would struggle and struggle and struggle and then, one day, it was like a switch flipped in their mind and it was all second nature.
But the activity wasn’t the growth. The growth is what happened in a place deep inside, where I couldn’t see. They didn’t just decide to be good at these things one day – they grew, they began to understand things they couldn’t understand, started processing the world in new ways, started integrating new things into the way they thought. And then it all exploded outward in a way I could see it.
The point is, the growing is always happening. Always. It doesn’t matter if you can see evidence of it in yourself right away. It doesn’t matter if others can. If you stick with it, if you’re trying, it doesn’t matter how many times you feel like you’re beating your head against the wall – eventually, the switch will flip, and “suddenly” (to others, not to you) you’ll discover you aren’t where you were before. You’ve moved forward. You’ve grown.
Paul reminded Timothy to focus on the fundamentals of Christianity – to “set the believers an example in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity.”
To “devote yourself to the public reading of Scripture, to exhortation, to teaching.”
Timothy’s job was to “practice these things, immerse yourself in them, so that all may see your progress” (1 Timothy 4:12-13,15, ESV).
We grow in what we immerse ourselves in. And eventually – eventually – that progress becomes obvious to those around us. But the growth that leads to that progress is like a seed growing in the dirt. A lot of things are happening under the soil before the plant is ready to emerge, and when it does emerge, it always feels like it came out of nowhere.
But it didn’t come out of nowhere. It was there the whole time. Changing. Transforming. Growing in ways no one else could see.
You are, too. Immerse yourself in the things that matter, give it time, and you’ll start to see the proof.

A Different Temple (New Horizons)
Preparations are afoot to build a Temple in Jerusalem, modelled on the one described by the prophet Ezekiel. The Scriptures indicate that just before the promised return of Jesus Christ there will indeed be a Temple constructed. Many evangelical Christians are working alongside the Temple Mount Institute to make this a reality.
The Scriptures point us to a different ‘Temple’, also now in course of building. The apostle Paul explains: ‘Do you not know that you are God’s temple and the Spirit of God dwells in you? (1 Corinthians 3:16).
Christians are in-dwelt by the Spirit of God, and are here likened to the inner chambers of the Temple (Greek naos: the sanctuary, the holy places) where the LORD the Spirit dwelt
(2 Corinthians 3:18).
Individually we are each a ‘temple’. But in another sense we are individually a ‘stone’ to be added to the spiritual Temple: ‘ you also as living stones are being built a spiritual house, a holy priesthood, to offer spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ’ (1 Peter 2:5). The ‘building blocks’ of this temple will endure for eternity.
There is no other foundation for the temple we are building than Jesus Christ, who is the ‘chief corner-stone’, for he is the focus of the entire Scriptures. We are warned to ensure we use, as in the original tabernacle and temple, only the finest of divinely approved materials as we build that spiritual temple: ‘if anyone builds upon the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, grass, straw, the work of each one will become evident. For the day will reveal it’ (vv.12-13).
Those selected to become ‘living stones’ are, with the help of the indwelling of God’s Spirit, producing the spiritual fruit of Christ-like character.
Many think a Temple must be built before his return, though others doubt that necessity. No date for the return of Christ is provided in the Scriptures. But given are a few clear indicators.
While recognizing that mankind has always experienced difficult times, Jesus yet outlined (Matthew 24 etc) a sequence of events coincident at the time of ‘the end’, during the closing of man’s day.
Specifically he referred to the ‘abomination of desolation … stand in the holy place [Gk. hagios topos]’ ( Matthew 24:15). This doesn’t necessarily mean a temple, but applies to any holy area. The term hagios topos anciently was often applied to the synagogue, and it’s reported that this adequately fulfills the requirements for sacrifice.
However, Judaism incorporates many unscriptural practices (the ‘tradition of the elders’) and the attempt to build a Temple is not necessarily a Scriptural injunction.
Wrote the Psalmist: ‘Except the LORD build the house, they labour in vain that build it’
(Psalm 127)
Either way, each of us must be personally spiritually prepared as living stones for our place in His eternal spirit Temple.

Advice from a Wise Man (Morning Companion)
If you were a successful entrepreneur, or even the builder of a great nation, certainly you would want to pass down to your children the wisdom you had gained in achieving your success. There was a king who attempted just that, and he wrote a book to his son, recording for him, and by extension all of us, life lessons he had learned through both his successes and failures.
That book is the Book of Proverbs, addressed to the king’s son (Proverbs 1:8,10,15; 2:1; 3:1,11,21, et.al.) He begins the book with a reminder to fear God and to learn from those who came before him (1:7-9). He warns his son against surrounding himself with the wrong kind of people (1:10-19, 2:12-15, 4:14f).
He warns his son about the perils of sexual impurity (chapter 5) and the trap of a temptress (11:22, 6:26-35, 7:6-27)
The Proverbs extol the virtue of diligence (10:4-5) and the need to listen to honest feedback (10:17). He says a good leader must learn to act without guile (10:10) and the need for competent, wise advisors (11:14). He must learn to temper justice with mercy (11:17) and at the same time control his anger (19:11).
And all those are just the beginning of the instruction.
It’s a sad coda to the Proverbs that neither son nor father lived the book to its fullest. In the book of Ecclesiastes an older Solomon is found lamenting his life, bemoaning his wasted years, reflecting how he turned his heart from God by abandoning his own rules for successful living. The results are recorded in the history of I Kings:
King Solomon loved many foreign women, as well as the daughter of Pharaoh: women of the Moabites, Ammonites, Edomites, Sidonians, and Hittites – from the nations of whom the Lord had said to the children of Israel, “You shall not intermarry with them, nor they with you. Surely they will turn away your hearts after their gods.” Solomon clung to these in love. And he had seven hundred wives, princesses, and three hundred concubines; and his wives turned away his heart. For it was so, when Solomon was old, that his wives turned his heart after other gods; and his heart was not loyal to the Lord his God, as was the heart of his father David. For Solomon went after Ashtoreth the goddess of the Sidonians, and after Milcom the abomination of the Ammonites. Solomon did evil in the sight of the Lord, and did not fully follow the Lord, as did his father David. Then Solomon built a high place for Chemosh the abomination of Moab, on the hill that is east of Jerusalem, and for Molech the abomination of the people of Ammon. And he did likewise for all his foreign wives, who burned incense and sacrificed to their gods.
So the Lord became angry with Solomon, because his heart had turned from the Lord God of Israel, who had appeared to him twice, and had commanded him concerning this thing, that he should not go after other gods; but he did not keep what the Lord had commanded. (I Kings 11:1-10).
Moreover, the foolishness of his son Rehoboam cost him most of his kingdom (I Kings 12:1-20), fulfilling Proverbs 16:25: “There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way of death.”
The warning is to do more than learn wisdom from the Proverbs. True, they are filled with nuggets of gold and lead to fulfillment. But more than learning them, they need to be lived.

Not Of This World (Sabbath Thoughts)
“My kingdom is not of this world. If My kingdom were of this world, My servants would fight, so that I should not be delivered to the Jews; but now My kingdom is not from here” (John 18:36). 
I’ve been thinking about that lately. The Jews of the first century – up to and including Jesus Christ’s own disciples, even after His resurrection – were looking for a Messiah who would overthrow the Romans and “restore the kingdom to Israel” (Acts 1:6). What they got was a Savior who sacrificed Himself for the world and then aske  His followers to do a very difficult thing: to wait.
Those are His last words in Luke’s gospel account: “tarry in the city of Jerusalem until you are endued with power from on high” (Luke 24:49). Wait. Be patient. So they did. And they were. Finally, on the Festival of Pentecost, God poured out His Spirit on them, and they set about fulfilling their divine commission: to make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them and teaching them to obey the words of God (Matthew 28:19-20). All the while, these faithful disciples were looking to the horizon, waiting for the Kingdom their Lord and Savior had promised to establish at His return.
But it didn’t come – not during their lifetimes, anyway. Even Paul, who wrote with confidence about “we who are alive and remain until the coming of the Lord” (1 Thessalonians 4:15), eventually came to accept that Jesus would be returning after his own death, and not before (2 Timothy 4:6).
For the last 2,000 years, Christ’s disciples have been waiting. And while we wait for the Kingdom not of this world, Jesus asks us to do another difficult thing: To live like we’re not of this world.
Because, of course, we aren’t. Jesus told the Father, “They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world” (John 17:16). Paul told the Philippians, “Our citizenship is in heaven, from which we also eagerly wait for the Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ” (Philippians 3:20). He told Timothy,
“No soldier gets entangled in civilian pursuits, since his aim is to please the one who enlisted him” (2 Timothy 2:4, ESV). The author of Hebrews urges us to follow the example of those who “confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth,” who “declare plainly that they seek a homeland” (Hebrews 11:13-14).
The world wants you to get involved – to get entrenched – to find a hill to die on and battle it out till the bitter end. And if you want a hill to die on, this is the year to find one. There is no shortage of highly polarized issues you can focus on and fight about for as long as you like. Political issues, cultural issues, social issues, environmental issues – you name it, it’s there to fight over. Pick your platform and air your stance – and that’s all it takes to enter the fray.
The hard part is stepping back.
The hard part is remembering that this isn’t how things get fixed.
The hard part is confessing that we’re just passing through, declaring that our homeland is somewhere else.
Those who came before us faced their own challenges, too.
“And truly if they had called to mind that country from which they had come out, they would have had opportunity to return. But now they desire a better, that is, a heavenly country. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them” (Hebrews 11:15-16).
Satan would love to see you return to the country you left behind. He’d love to see you lose your focus by investing all your time and energy into arguing over temporary band-aids for a world that’s already irreparably broken. Remember why you’re here. Remember where you’re going:
A city not of this world, prepared for a people not of this world. A Kingdom where all the issues of this world will be fixed by the God who knows how to fix them. Our homeland. Jesus is coming quickly. “Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus!” (Revelation 22:20).

The Command to Rejoice (Morning Companion)
Let me tell you about a good, old friend. I can attest that he is in fact good, and he is in fact old. One time he said to me, “Getting old isn’t for sissies.” I have come to appreciate that that wisdom as each year passes. Yet, in spite of his 92 years and hobbling by a stroke, he is one of the most positive, contented people I know. That got me thinking about why some people seem naturally content and others see only the clouds when the sky is filled with silver linings. So I decided to ask about that. Before I tell you what he said, I want to offer a disclaimer.
Some unhappiness in life is 100% rational. No one can blame you for discouragement over a horrible disease, or the loss of a loved one, or a major financial setback, or any other such events of life. It is perfectly okay to wail through the night, grieving mightily when necessary, even to questioning the Almighty Himself as did Job when calamities intrude. It is unhealthy to be pollyannish about such things.
Understand too that there is a difference between transitory happiness and a lifestyle of joy. I was happy when the Kansas City Chiefs won the Super Bowl, but the very next day nothing of substance changed in my life or in the world, and I was back to my ordinary tasks of daily living. Happiness based on an outside happenings is a temporary dopamine kick. Joy, as modeled in my good, old friend, comes from something else.
Oddly enough, the Bible in both the Old and New Testaments actually commands us to rejoice: Finally, my brethren, rejoice in the Lord. (Philippians 3:1 NKJV, written from prison)
Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say, rejoice! (Philippians 4:4 NKJV)
Rejoice always. (I Thessalonians 5:16 NKJV)
Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling. (Psalm 2:11 NKJV)
Rejoice in the Lord, you righteous, and give thanks at the remembrance of his holy name. (Psalm 97:12 NKJV)
You shall rejoice before the Lord your God, you, and your son, and your daughter … And you shall rejoice in your feast. (Deuteronomy 16: 11, 14 NKJV)
Before I tell you my good, old friend’s secret to finding joy regardless of the state he is in, let’s talk a bit about why we have these commands to rejoice. Rejoicing is more than just feeling good on our insides. Dennis Prager in his Rational Bible commentary on Deuteronomy offers four reasons that happiness is a moral obligation. (See the Rational Bible: Deuteronomy, pp.407-409 by Dennis Prager, copyright 2022).
First, ask a child what it’s like growing up in a family of unhappy people. Maybe you grew up in such a home and were fed a diet of negative energy. It leaves scars and habits that instill unhealthy and even destructive patterns of thinking that are hard to overcome.
Second, happy people make for a better world. Unhappy people want to blame others for their unhappiness. In some cases they want to hurt or destroy the “other” whom they perceive as the cause of their unhappiness. This can even lead to a desire to destroy the culture and society of which they are apart. Revolutionaries are not happy people. Third, people are more decent to others when they are happy.
Finally, unhappy religious people reflect poorly on God and religion. Prager notes that unhappy religious people make a great argument for atheism. We’re commanded to rejoice, there are good reasons to rejoice, but we all know that there is no such thing as a “joy button” that we can push and magically start rejoicing. That’s where my good, old friend can help us. He gave me three keys that unlock the door to joy.
Number 1: Accept the facts you can’t change. He has accepted the fact that he can no longer do what he used to do. He sits in his chair most of the time, and he can either fret over it or accept it. Either way, he is where he is. Number 2: He’s content with his blessings. He can fix his own lunch, live in his own home, and do his own laundry. He has friends and family who pay frequent visits. His mind is sharp, he can enjoy watching football, and listen to good music. And he can still engage his mind with college-level discussions on anything from modern construction methods to psychology.
Number 3: He knows what it is like to do without. By growing up in a hard scrabble condition with next to nothing in the way of material goods, where even necessities are scarce, it is no great feat to be grateful for a roof over your head and three squares a day, and knowing that the fruits of your own labor have been awarded. Too many who grow up with much seem discontented while desiring even more. By living through a period of want, it is easier to be thankful for what we have, especially if we worked for it. If you want joy in life, do something productive.
As my good, old friend related his three rules, I couldn’t help but say, “You are a happy, contented man because you know how to be thankful.” My friend made me see that the gateway to joy is gratitude, and it is a very biblical way to a satisfied, joyful life. Be thankful for what you have rather than envious of what you don’t. Paul said something like that to the Philippians:
Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I say rejoice! Let your gentleness be known to all men. The Lord is at hand. Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God, and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ. (Philippians 4:4-7 NKJV)
Paul links thankfulness with rejoicing. Then he gives the Philippians a homework assignment in verse 8:
Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy — meditate on these things.
If you need to learn to become thankful and thereby become a person who rejoices over what you have, take Paul’s advice to the next level by starting a daily gratitude journal. At the end of each day jot down a list of people, events, experiences, and so forth that you are thankful for, beginning with blessings from that day’s events. Make a commitment to give thanks to whom thanks is due, including thanks to the Almighty Himself. And remember that the gateway to joy is gratitude.

A Big Box of Air (Sabbath Thoughts)
I’m big into board games. If you know me, this is no surprise. A good board game gives you opportunities to feel clever, to do something absurd and see if it works, or just experience some friendly competition with the people you enjoy spending time with. It’s one of my favorite ways to spend time with friends.
Here’s something I don’t love about board games: The dead space.
Ultimately, it’s the solution to a marketing problem. A great game doesn’t become a successful game unless people buy the game, right? And because people do judge books by their covers – along with everything else they buy – it helps to make things as eye-catching as possible.
You’re going to notice a bigger box before you notice a smaller one. If they’re both the same price, a bigger box seems like a better deal than a smaller box. So what do a lot of companies do? They put their relatively small games into boxes that are comically large for what’s inside, and that helps them stand out on shelves. Or, worse, they over-complicate a perfectly fine game with all sorts of extra pieces in order to justify a box of horrific proportions, knowing that some people will associate the dimensions of the box with the quality of the game.
There are a lot of lessons in that, I think. Taking stock of the things we think are important and asking why they’re important. Is taking up more space always the goal? More square footage, more cars, more income, more things. It’s easy to chase after bigger numbers without ever asking why the numbers matter or which ones are worth stopping at.
But what these big boxes of air really get me thinking about is the Pharisees. How many times did Jesus take them to task for focusing on outward appearances and neglecting what was inside? He called them whitewashed tombs full of “dead men’s bones and all uncleanness” (Matthew 23:27) – cups and dishes that were outwardly spotless “but inside they are full of extortion and self-indulgence” (Matthew 23:25).
But it’s not that lesson exactly. The Pharisees were hiding their wickedness and corruption with a spotless exterior. But there are some really good games in boxes that are simply too big for what’s inside, all because some market research somewhere said that taking up extra space was the best way to go. Some of my favorite games come in boxes that fit in the palm of my hand. Some come in boxes that could have been half the size without sacrificing anything inside. And some are sprawling monstrosities that need every square inch of space between the lids.
Do we ever feel the need to look bigger than we are? A big box on a shelf looks more valuable, more important, more impressive. It sends the message that it has more to offer, and some people believe it. But people who have been playing games for a while know that the small boxes sometimes have even more to offer – and you’re less likely to open them up and think, “Huh. That’s all?”
People judge things by their covers. But people’s judgment isn’t what matters. “Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7).
Whatever shelf you sit on in God’s Church, the size of your box doesn’t determine what you bring to the table. Filling yourself up with a bunch of dead space just to look better – or making things more complicated all for the sake of looking more impressive – these are temptations that ultimately waste everyone’s time.
A small game in a small box can have a lot to offer. People who spend time with games will pick a well-honed small box over a big box of air. And God will pick people who spend their time doing what matters instead of trying to look impressive to other people.
Packaging only fools the people who don’t know what’s on the inside.
God knows what’s on the inside. 

The Hand That Wrote This (Sabbath Thoughts)
The year was 1089. A scribe sat down to finish his current project: a handwritten copy of the gospel accounts in Greek. He wasn’t the first to do it, and he wasn’t the last. He was a single link in a chain stretching back nearly a thousand years before his birth, and has now continued stretching forward for nearly a thousand years after his death.
His name and his story are lost to time. But his contribution to the great chain remains. His manuscript is a link to the days when Jesus Christ and His disciples walked the earth. He and others like him were part of a generational effort to preserve something precious beyond words. Although the original manuscripts have long since crumbled into dust, this scribe – along with those who came before him and those who came after him – helped ensure that the message survived.
No ancient book has been more carefully preserved than the Bible. Not even close. Generation after generation, dedicated scribes sat down and painstakingly copied the word of God, letter after letter, line after line, to ensure that those who came after them had access to the life-changing truths breathed out by the Creator of the universe. They didn’t want the message to crumble like the papyrus and parchment that contained it.
And it hasn’t. That’s incredible in its own right. But the reason I care about this particular manuscript from 1089 isn’t just because of the God-inspired truths it helped preserve. I care about it because of the colophon that comes at the end – a short, personal comment from this nameless scribe who lived and died halfway between the gospel account of Christ and today:
“The hand that wrote this is rotting in the grave, but the words that are written will last until the fullness of times.”
It gives me chills. He knew he was just a link in the chain.
He knew the message was bigger than him.
He knew he was preserving words that would outlast his own physical existence.
He knew he was a part of something that mattered. The thing that mattered.
I think about that, and I think about me, and I think about God’s truth, and I think about the connection we all share as sons and daughters of God – not just connected to each other in the present, but connected backwards and forwards to those who came before and to those who will come after.
Unless God returns in the next half a century or so, the hands that are typing this will one day be rotting in the grave. Your hands, too.
What will we have contributed to the chain – that great chain that links us back to the Savior who told us to come to Him, because His yoke is easy and His burden is light?
We know those words, in part, because of a hand that has long since rotted in the grave – and many other hands before it. What are we going to leave behind for those who come after? What examples of faith and trust? What templates of what it means to believe and obey?
The continued existence of the Bible today doesn’t depend on any of us actively writing it out. But we are called to live it. To breathe it. To feed on it.
We carry with us the words that will last “until the fullness of time.” They are as precious now as they day they were spoken. The way we engage with those words today will impact how they are received by the ones who come after us. When you and I are waiting in the grave for our change, what message will we have left behind?

Dragging God With Us (Sabbath Thoughts)
On Sinai, God gave Moses verbal blueprints for constructing His tabernacle – the tent in which He would dwell with Israel during their time in the wilderness.
The very first blueprint God described was for the ark of the testimony. This ornate golden box would be crowned with a mercy seat guarded by two golden angelic figures, and it would serve as a physical representation of God’s heavenly throne.
“There I will meet with you,” God told Moses, “and I will speak with you from above the mercy seat, from between the two cherubim which are on the ark of the Testimony, about everything which I will give you in commandment to the children of Israel” (Exodus 25:22).
The ark was the core of the tabernacle. It was a reminder of God’s continued presence within the nation of Israel. Once the tabernacle was constructed, “Moses was not able to enter the tabernacle of meeting, because the cloud rested above it, and the glory of the LORD filled the tabernacle” (Exodus 40:35). Throughout Israel’s time in the wilderness, whenever “the cloud was taken up from above the tabernacle of the Testimony” (Numbers 10:11), it was time to move.
So it was, whenever the ark set out, that Moses said:
“Rise up, O LORD! Let Your enemies be scattered,
And let those who hate You flee before You.”
And when it rested, he said:
“Return, O LORD, To the many thousands of Israel.” (Numbers 10:35-36)
The important distinction, of course, is that God did the moving. He chose where to move and when to move, and the ark followed.
Centuries later, Israel forgot that lesson. When Eli was the high priest in Shiloh, Israel was fighting with the Philistines. After losing one battle, the elders of Israel said,
“Why has the LORD defeated us today before the Philistines? Let us bring the ark of the covenant of the LORD from Shiloh to us, that when it comes among us it may save us from the hand of our enemies” (1 Samuel 4:3).
Look at the mental gymnastics going on here. The elders believed that God had caused their defeat on the battlefield – while simultaneously believing that if they just brought God’s ark onto the battlefield, they would be guaranteed a victory. Look at the phrasing:
“That when it comes among us it may save us.”
They thought getting their hands on God’s magical golden box would turn the tides in their favor. They thought God followed the ark. They were wrong.
And when the ark of the covenant of the LORD came into the camp, all Israel shouted so loudly that the earth shook. Now when the Philistines heard the noise of the shout, they said, “What does the sound of this great shout in the camp of the Hebrews mean?” Then they understood that the ark of the LORD had come into the camp. So the Philistines were afraid, for they said, “God has come into the camp!” And they said, “Woe to us! For such a thing has never happened before. Woe to us! Who will deliver us from the hand of these mighty gods? These are the gods who struck the Egyptians with all the plagues in the wilderness. Be strong and conduct yourselves like men, you Philistines, that you do not become servants of the Hebrews, as they have been to you. Conduct yourselves like men, and fight!”
So the Philistines fought, and Israel was defeated, and every man fled to his tent. There was a very great slaughter, and there fell of Israel thirty thousand foot soldiers. Also the ark of God was captured; and the two sons of Eli, Hophni and Phinehas, died. (1 Samuel 4:5-11)
In a stroke of poetic irony, it was the presence of the ark of the covenant that prompted the Philistines to fight back as hard as they could. They were terrified of the mighty God who had crushed the Egyptians.
But God hadn’t come into the camp. He doesn’t work that way.
The Israelites thought they could drag God onto the battlefield to fight their battles. They thought they had a divine cheat code that would get them whatever they wanted. They didn’t realize that, without God’s presence, the holy ark of the covenant was just a gilded box.
Without God’s help, the Israelites only managed to lose a second time. And not only did they lose to the Philistines, but they also lost the ark itself. The object they trusted more than God was captured by their enemies, who placed it as a war trophy in the temple of one of their false gods.
When Eli heard it, he fell over backwards and broke his neck. When his newly widowed daughter-in-law heard it while giving birth to her son, she named him Ichabod – literally,
“Where is the glory?” – because “the glory has departed from Israel, for the ark of God has been captured” (1 Samuel 4:22). Then she died, too.
The loss of the ark, so closely related to the presence of God, was a crushing blow for Israel. 
But the reason they lost it in the first place was because they failed to understand how God’s presence was tied to it. While the ark was away, Eli’s “heart trembled for the ark of God” (1 Samuel 4:13). He knew it wasn’t going on a divinely ordained trip. God’s instructions aren’t mentioned anywhere in the decision-making process of the elders of Israel. They decided to engage the Philistines again. They decided to bring the ark up from Shiloh. They decided where God should be and what He should do.
Centuries later, Jeremiah stood in the temple and brought a warning from God to Israel:
“But go now to My place which was in Shiloh, where I set My name at the first, and see what I did to it because of the wickedness of My people Israel” (Jeremiah 7:12).
And in one of Asaph’s psalms, we learn “that He forsook the tabernacle of Shiloh, the tent He had placed among men, and delivered His strength into captivity, and His glory into the enemy’s hand” (Psalm 78:60-61).
God’s presence had departed long before the ark was captured. By the time Israel hauled it onto the battlefield, it was no longer the earthly throne where the presence of God dwelt among His people. It was a box. And boxes don’t win battles.
But that’s ancient history. Where does God dwell now? 
Not in “temples made with hands” (Acts 17:24). Not in a cloud over that beautifully crafted ark, enshrined within a tabernacle which was only ever intended to be “a copy of the true one” in heaven (Hebrews 9:24, NIV). 
No – through His Spirit, God dwells in His people. In you.
Do you not know that you are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? If anyone defiles the temple of God, God will destroy him. For the temple of God is holy, which temple you are. (1 Corinthians 3:16-17)
Instead of the golden ark, “we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us” (2 Corinthians 4:7, ESV).
We still don’t get to decide where (or when) God moves. But we do get to decide whether or not we’ll follow. Trying to drag God some place He has no intention of being will end as disastrously for us as it did for the tabernacle in Shiloh. We can’t drag Him into the battles He never told us to fight. We can’t force Him to travel the routes He never told us to walk. We can either follow the cloud or leave it behind.
When Jeremiah told Israel to look at God’s former location in Shiloh, he was standing in the gates of the temple. God inspired him to call out:
Stop putting your confidence in the false belief that says, “We are safe! The temple of the LORD is here! The temple of the LORD is here! The temple of the LORD is here!” …
But just look at you! You are putting your confidence in a false belief that will not deliver you. You steal. You murder. You commit adultery. You lie when you swear an oath. You sacrifice to the god Baal. You pay allegiance to other gods whom you have not previously known. Then you come and stand in my presence in this temple I have claimed as my own and say, “We are safe!” You think you are so safe that you go on doing all those hateful sins! …
So I will destroy this temple that I have claimed as my own, this temple that you are trusting to protect you. I will destroy this place that I gave to you and your ancestors, just like I destroyed Shiloh. And I will drive you out of my sight just like I drove out your relatives, the people of Israel. (Jeremiah 7:4,8-10,14-16, NET)
Having God’s Spirit in us doesn’t make us bulletproof. On the contrary, having God’s Spirit within us requires us to pay special attention to whether or not we’re in sync with that Spirit.
Are we going where God leads us, or are we trying to tug it where we want to go?
Carrying the Spirit of God doesn’t make us bulletproof. And it doesn’t mean we get to take that Spirit wherever we want it to go. The onus is on each of us to listen carefully to God’s still small voice – to keep His dwelling place free of the wicked things He hates and to go where He goes, whether it lines up with our plans or not.
When the sons of Korah thought about God’s dwelling place, this is what they wrote:
How lovely is Your tabernacle, O LORD of hosts!
My soul longs, yes, even faints For the courts of the LORD;
My heart and my flesh cry out for the living God.
Even the sparrow has found a home, And the swallow a nest for herself,
Where she may lay her young – Even Your altars, O LORD of hosts,
My King and my God. Blessed are those who dwell in Your house;
They will still be praising You.
For a day in Your courts is better than a thousand …
I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God
Than dwell in the tents of wickedness.
For the LORD God is a sun and shield; The LORD will give grace and glory;
No good thing will He withhold from those who walk uprightly.
O LORD of hosts, Blessed is the man who trusts in You!
(Psalm 84:1–4,10-12)
Do your heart and your flesh cry out to be close to God? Does your soul long for it? Would you trade a thousand days anywhere else for a single day in God’s presence? Would you sacrifice all the greatness this world has to offer if it meant serving in God’s house? What happened at Shiloh is a warning. We can’t drag God with us. But we can – we must – go where He leads us. Even the sparrow has a nest, but we – we have an invitation to dwell in the house of the living God.

A New World Order (New Horizons)
[We want] ‘a man of sufficient stature to hold the allegiance of all the people … Send us such a man and, whether he be god or devil, we will receive him’. Paul-Henri Spaak
Our world is fast moving towards unity – a new world order in which education, business, politics, religion are all unified under one world leader. The process has developed silently, slowly, largely unseen over many decades, but is soon to affect all of us.
The global elite can’t wait and are actively promoting it. To them the nation state is archaic and best eliminated. A ‘global state’ is seen as a golden future for all of us – a world of total equality, shared resources, peaceful co-existence, extinction of the divisive concept of ‘race’, the end of hunger and disease. Utopia!
This transformation, by this plan, is to be activated by the United Nations, and was actively promoted by Robert Muller, the former UN Assistant Secretary-General: ’…We must move as quickly as possible to a one-world government; a one-world religion; a one-world leader’.
It is the UN’s stated policy: ‘The age of nations must end. The governments of nations have decided to order their separate sovereignties into one government to which they will surrender their arms.’ (U.N. World Constitution)
Official UN departments oversee each sector (e.g. UNESCO for education and science), and for purposes of political administration the world has, reportedly, been sub-divided by the UN into ten regions, each with its own leader, who cedes his authority to a single world leader.
One department, Muller adds, oversees religion: ‘Peace would be impossible without the taming of fundamentalism’ through a United Religions’.
The path to religious unity is strewn with many way-marks. 
Central to all the changes sits the Papacy. Papal occupants of ‘the throne of Peter’ have pursued this agenda since the early sixteenth century.
Protestant denominations are viewed not as spiritual partners, but as rebellious children who must return to ‘mother church’. All ‘heresy’ is, eventually, to be eliminated – if necessary, as with the Inquisition in the Middle Ages, by torture and death.
God, however, has an alternative agenda which will supersede man’s faulty and ultimately despotic plans. Messiah will return, not in the disguise of a mere human, but as the all-powerful divine Ruler of our planet. He will have observed the dire universal consequences of the United Nations plan (or, probably, a similar alternative) and will, having put down all opposition, start the process of re-construction.
His rule will encompass all nations – a true thousand year reich presided over benignly by the King of kings and where all mankind will, with transformed hearts and minds, have free access to the Spirit of God.

Does Jesus Really “Get Us”? (Morning Companion)
Never one to hold back what was on her mind, she said that she flat out disagreed with this passage from Hebrews:
For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are — yet without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in time of need. (Hebrews 4:15-16 NIV)
Or this one, also from Hebrews:
For this reason he [Jesus] had to be made like his brothers in every way, in order that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in service to God, and that he might make an atonement for the sins of the people. Because he himself suffered when he was tempted, he is able to help those who are being tempted. (Hebrews 2:17-18 NIV)
Is Jesus really able to sympathize with all our weaknesses? Does he “get us”? My friend said no because she had spent years in a wheelchair, disabled by a stroke and unable to return to her home. Does Jesus really know what it is like, she would say, to live year after interminable year like that?
She had a point, I think. Her questions and doubts were rational, and she was entitled to ask them. Her doubts deserve an answer, and it all comes down to who Jesus was and is.
If Jesus were merely a man who walked the earth for 33 years and died at the hands of Rome one day, then no, he did not suffer in all points as we do, and certainly not in the same way as one confined to a wheelchair.
Even if he were taken to the Father’s throne after his resurrection as the Firstborn and now sits at the right hand of the Father, that alone would still not answer my friend’s query. What could he possibly know about being partially or completely paralyzed for years and years?
But what if the first chapter of John’s Gospel is correct when John writes,
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God?
What if Paul was right when he wrote this:
Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death — even death on a cross! (Philippians 2:5-8 NIV)
If all that is true, then think about what it means when Paul says he made himself nothing, and that he did not consider equality with God as being something to be grasped, instead choosing to be made in human likeness. What if Jesus really was the Son of Man who came down from heaven? Imagine having power and glory beyond anything we can understand and imagine, and then voluntarily confining his existence and power to little more than a breathing lump of clay with all the passions, hormones, and pain that you and I have. Imagine having great power and giving it all up, thus submitting oneself to the limitations of the flesh.
If we understand who and what Jesus is and what he did, we can “get it”, knowing that the writer of Hebrews gives us true words of comfort. He voluntarily limited himself to time and space, a tiny fraction of what he was. He might not have been confined in the same way we often are, but his limitations as an order of magnitude are astounding. He really does understand us in our weaknesses … He gets us.

What We Do In The Storms (Sabbath Thoughts)
I will always have a lot of respect for Job.
He catches a lot of flak for his behavior toward the end of the book, and it turns out, yes, when you’re at the lowest point of your life and dealing with three insensitive and unhelpful “friends”, some character defects are going to rise to the top. It’s inevitable. But I think leaving the camera zoomed in on those failures gives us an incomplete picture of who Job was.
To me, the verse that really defines Job’s character is in the very first chapter. A flood of messengers rush in to tell Job the worst possible news:
He’s lost everything.
His possessions are gone. His children are dead. In a single moment, he transitioned from “the greatest of all the people of the East” (Job 1:3) to the most pitiable. So what does he do?
He tears his robe, shaves his head, then falls to the ground and worships: Naked I came from my mother’s womb, And naked shall I return there.
The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; Blessed be the name of the Lord. (Job 1:21)
Where does a response like that come from? Not the heat of the moment; I can tell you that. You don’t lose nearly everything you hold dear and then decide to turn around and praise God. It doesn’t work like that.
The decision to praise God in the storms of life comes before the storm, not during. It’s something we chose to do before things get bad – a choice we make in advance when we understand who God is and what He means to us. Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah made the choice to obey God at all costs long before Nebuchadnezzar was threatening to throw them into the fire. Peter and the other disciples knew whose opinion of them mattered long before the Sanhedrin tried to browbeat them into submission. Stephen knew what was worth saying long before his life was on the line.
The decision, the attitude, the mindset – it comes first. Storms will come. They’re inevitable. Inescapable. What we’ll do when the next one hits depends on the decisions we’re making right now, in this moment.
When the winds start picking up, it’s probably too late to change course.

Practical Tips for Christians Shaping Personal Growth (Ashley Taylor)
It’s essential to figure out how to improve yourself spiritually, emotionally, and physically.
It might seem overwhelming, but self-improvement is entirely practical when you have the right strategies up your sleeve. From traditional religious practices to modern self-improvement methods, here’s how to become the best version of yourself.
Engage in Self-Care
Engaging in self-care by adopting healthy habits is a powerful way to boost your health and wellness, ensuring that you maintain the energy and mental clarity needed for daily life. One fundamental habit is to ensure you’re drinking at least two liters of water per day, which aids in hydration, digestion, and overall bodily function.
Keeping healthy snacks like fruit and nuts on hand can help satisfy hunger with nutrient-rich options, supporting your body’s needs and preventing energy slumps.
Additionally, starting a prayer practice can profoundly impact your mental and emotional well-being, reducing stress, enhancing focus, and promoting a sense of peace and balance.
Pray Regularly
Praying consistently is one of the most crucial habits you can develop to enhance your spiritual well-being. Praying helps you set aside time each day to communicate with God, reflect on your values, seek guidance, and give your Lord the praise and honor He deserves. Whether you pray in the morning, evening, or both, make it a priority to embrace the habit. You don’t have to spend hours in prayer every day; even a few minutes can boost your sense of inner peace and connection to God!
Keep Your Home Clean
Another crucial component of self-improvement is creating a healthy and harmonious environment in your home. A tidy home helps you feel more organized, focused, and calm.
Plus it’s an opportunity to steward your everyday gifts. Take small steps towards your goals, like decluttering, organizing, and cleaning one room at a time. When you have a bit more energy (and time), it will be easier to deep clean your living environment because everything will be in its rightful place. Enlist your kids’ help to make the work easier. A clean home will help you feel more comfortable and connected to your surroundings, ultimately having a positive effect on your spiritual and emotional well-being.
Start a Business Out of Your Passion
If you want to improve your professional and personal development and also make a difference in the lives of others, one option is turning your passion into a company. Create a business that reflects your core values, and work toward building something that aligns with your interests, beliefs, and goals. It could be a side hustle that you work on after hours or the beginning of a
full-time business. The most important thing is to focus on what you love doing and making a difference for the sake of the Kingdom, and you’ll find success and fulfillment.
Work Out More Often
Exercise is an excellent way to improve your physical and emotional well-being. Regular physical activity can significantly reduce stress, increase endorphins, and boost your overall health. Even a short walk or yoga session can yield immense benefits, and the process of tending your physical well-being is an opportunity to worship in a quiet and personal way.
Make it a habit to exercise daily, or try to do it at least three times a week. Walking regularly for exercise is not only beneficial for your physical health but also for your mental well-being, providing a simple yet effective way to stay active. To enhance your walking experience, consider using a walk score map to identify the best pedestrian-friendly areas nearby, ensuring your routes are both safe and enjoyable. These maps can help you discover new paths and scenic neighborhoods, making each walk an opportunity to explore while you keep fit.
Seek Out Supportive Friends and Community
Having a support network is crucial to your self-improvement goals. Seek out individuals and groups that share your values and interests and are willing to hold you accountable. Get involved in your community and go to workshops, seminars, and conferences to meet like-minded people and share in your journey. Aim to connect with individuals who can help you grow and challenge you to become a better person. Start a small group in your home, or join up with a prayer buddy for coffee. Remember that you want to surround yourself with people who will help you through hard times and push you to be your best self.
The Bottom Line
Self-improvement may seem like a daunting prospect, but you can achieve your goals and become the best version of yourself with the right mindset and tools. Cultivate a consistent prayer life, clean your home regularly, consider starting a business, and follow the other tips here. Most importantly, remember to celebrate your small successes along the way!

The Command to Rejoice (Morning Companion)
Let me tell you about a good, old friend. I can attest that he is in fact good, and he is in fact old. One time he said to me, “Getting old isn’t for sissies.”
I have come to appreciate that that wisdom as each year passes. Yet, in spite of his 92 years and hobbling by a stroke, he is one of the most positive, contented people I know. That got me thinking about why some people seem naturally content and others see only the clouds when the sky is filled with silver linings. So I decided to ask about that. Before I tell you what he said, I want to offer a disclaimer.
Some unhappiness in life is 100% rational. No one can blame you for discouragement over a horrible disease, or the loss of a loved one, or a major financial setback, or any other such events of life. It is perfectly okay to wail through the night, grieving mightily when necessary, even to questioning the Almighty Himself as did Job when calamities intrude. It is unhealthy to be pollyannish about such things.
Understand too that there is a difference between transitory happiness and a lifestyle of joy. I was happy when the Kansas City Chiefs won the Super Bowl, but the very next day nothing of substance changed in my life or in the world, and I was back to my ordinary tasks of daily living. Happiness based on an outside happenings is a temporary dopamine kick. Joy, as modeled in my good, old friend, comes from something else.
Oddly enough, the Bible in both the Old and New Testaments actually commands us to rejoice:
Finally, my brethren, rejoice in the Lord. (Philippians 3:1 NKJV, written from prison)
Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say, rejoice! (Philippians 4:4 NKJV)
Rejoice always. (I Thessalonians 5:16 NKJV)
Serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice with trembling. (Psalm 2:11 NKJV)
Rejoice in the Lord, you righteous, and give thanks at the remembrance of his holy name. (Psalm 97:12 NKJV)
You shall rejoice before the Lord your God, you, and your son, and your daughter … And you shall rejoice in your feast … (Deuteronomy 16:11,14 NKJV)
Before I tell you my good, old friend’s secret to finding joy regardless of the state he is in, let’s talk a bit about why we have these commands to rejoice. Rejoicing is more than just feeling good on our insides.
Dennis Prager, in his Rational Bible commentary on Deuteronomy, offers four reasons that happiness is a moral obligation. (See The Rational Bible: Deuteronomy, Pages 407 – 409 by Dennis Prager, copyright 2022).
First, ask a child what it’s like growing up in a family of unhappy people. Maybe you grew up in such a home and were fed a diet of negative energy. It leaves scars and habits that instill unhealthy and even destructive patterns of thinking that are hard to overcome.
Second, happy people make for a better world. Unhappy people want to blame others for their unhappiness. In some cases they want to hurt or destroy the “other” whom they perceive as the cause of their unhappiness. This can even lead to a desire to destroy the culture and society of which they are apart. Revolutionaries are not happy people.
Third, people are more decent to others when they are happy.
Finally, unhappy religious people reflect poorly on God and religion. Prager notes that unhappy religious people make a great argument for atheism.
We’re commanded to rejoice, there are good reasons to rejoice, but we all know that there is no such thing as a “joy button” that we can push and magically start rejoicing. That’s where my good, old friend can help us. He gave me three keys that unlock the door to joy.
Number 1: Accept the facts you can’t change. He has accepted the fact that he can no longer do what he used to do. He sits in his chair most of the time, and he can either fret over it or accept it. Either way, he is where he is.
Number 2: He’s content with his blessings. He can fix his own lunch, live in his own home, and do his own laundry. He has friends and family who pay frequent visits. His mind is sharp, he can enjoy watching football, and listen to good music. And he can still engage his mind with college-level discussions on anything from modern construction methods to psychology.
Number 3: He knows what it is like to do without. By growing up in a hard scrabble condition with next to nothing in the way of material goods, where even necessities are scarce, it is no great feat to be grateful for a roof over your head and three squares a day, and knowing that the fruits of your own labor have been awarded. Too many who grow up with much seem discontented while desiring even more. By living through a period of want, it is easier to be thankful for what we have, especially if we worked for it. If you want joy in life, do something productive.
As my good, old friend related his three rules, I couldn’t help but say, “You are a happy, contented man because you know how to be thankful.” My friend made me see that the gateway to joy is gratitude, and it is a very biblical way to a satisfied, joyful life. Be thankful for what you have rather than envious of what you don’t.
Paul said something like that to the Philippians:
Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I say rejoice! Let your gentleness beknown to all men. The Lord is at hand. Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God, and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ. (Philippians 4:4-7 NKJV)
Paul links thankfulness with rejoicing. Then he gives the Philippians a homework assignment in verse 8: Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy — meditate on these things.
If you need to learn to become thankful and thereby become a person who rejoices over what you have, take Paul’s advice to the next level by starting a daily gratitude journal. At the end of each day jot down a list of people, events, experiences, and so forth that you are thankful for, beginning with blessings from that day’s events. Make a commitment to give thanks to whom thanks is due, including thanks to the Almighty Himself. And remember that the gateway to joy is gratitude.

The Precious Gift of Prayer (Sabbath Thoughts)
You can talk with God. And God will listen.
The most powerful Being in this universe, and you have the ability to come before His throne – once, twice, a hundred times a day.
You can ask Him for help. You can tell Him what you’re struggling with.
You can request the mercy and forgiveness made freely available to you through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ.
You can tell Him about your hopes and dreams. Ask Him questions about the things you’re learning as you study His Word and listen to Him. Share the ten thousand different thoughts you’ve got running through your head.
You can talk to Him on your knees, with your face bowed down to the ground, with your arms raised up toward heaven, or as you walk by the way.
You can share your agonies, your joys, your most troubling questions, your most joyful discoveries, and every mundane and uninteresting thing in between. The God who created the universe allows you – invites you – to come and talk to Him.
What will you do with that invitation today?

How Much Sin Can You Handle? (Sabbath Thoughts)
Zero. The answer is zero. You can handle sin about as effectively as you can handle bullets in your vital organs – that is to say, not at all. Sin destroys. Sin requires a life. Sin devours potential and crushes hope and separates you from God, which means there is no “safe” amount of sin. There is no “safe” amount of a thing whose only function is to rip your life to shreds.
Before the very first murder, what was God’s warning to Cain? “Sin lies at the door. And its desire is for you, but you should rule over it” (Genesis 4:7). Sin wants to own you. It wants to fill your heart and flood your life with its destructive effects. There’s a reason Paul warned against giving the devil a foothold (Ephesians 4:26) – even the tiniest crack in our armor is more than enough room for our adversary to work with.
With such a powerful enemy so eagerly focused on our destruction, we need a battle plan. Not too long ago, we talked about how removing sin from our lives requires a better plan than simply “not sinning.” The same principle is at work here: a solid defense against our enemy requires so much more than striving “not to give him a foothold.” That’s too vague; too abstract. We need a plan with action steps; with things to do, not just things not to do.
Solomon wrote, “Keep your heart with all diligence, for out of it spring the issues of life” (Proverbs 4:23). The issues of life begin with the heart. Who you are, your very identity, that begins with the heart. If our defense against Satan is to succeed, then it, too, must begin with the heart.
To “keep” our hearts means to protect them. To defend them. To guard them. The fact that such an action is necessary reminds us that something else – or rather, someone else – is looking for a way in. Jesus warned that “from within, out of the heart of men, proceed evil thoughts, adulteries, fornications, murders, thefts, covetousness, wickedness, deceit, lewdness, an evil eye, blasphemy, pride, foolishness. All these evil things come from within and defile a man” (Mark 7:21-23). But where do all these actions start, do you think? Does a heart suddenly overflow with wickedness, or do these things begin as seeds, tiny thoughts and feelings that we allow into our hearts, nurturing and protecting them while they take root and begin to produce the fruit of wickedness? My money’s on the latter. I don’t think anyone wakes up evil one morning – I think that’s the result of a heart in which a lot of evil things were allowed to flourish. Here, then, is the fundamental principle when it comes to not giving the devil a foothold: The things you let into your heart determine the things that come out of your heart.
Movies. Games. Music. Thoughts. Emotions. Friendships. Beliefs. These are the kinds of things that stand at the gate of your heart, demanding to be let in. Your job, every day, every moment, is deciding what gets in and what stays out. What meshes with God’s way of life and what doesn’t. When you’re in the movie theater and you realize the words or the images on screen don’t belong in your heart, there’s a decision to make. When you’re talking with a friend and you realize that relationship is taking you places you don’t want to go, there’s a decision to make. When the things you willingly let into your life don’t pass the Philippians 4:8 test – when they aren’t true or noble or just or pure or lovely or of good report or virtuous or praiseworthy – there are decisions to be made.
When we talked about spiritual vacuums, I had three steps for you. Today, I have only one. I’m sure we could put our heads together and come up with three, or seven, or a dozen, and I’m sure they’d each be good and valid and helpful. But I think this is the key step. I think this is the step that’s most necessary, most urgent, most uncomfortable to do, and most essential to our salvation: Attack.
When the nameless Israelite waltzed into the camp with a Midianite woman on his arm, Phinehas grabbed his spear. Twenty-four thousand of his brethren had died in a plague because of their shameless idolatry and harlotry – twenty-four thousand, can you imagine? – so when this man marched into camp and advertised his clear intention to sin, Phinehas took action. With his spear, he walked up to the Israelite’s tent and skewered the two of them doing exactly what it sounds like they were doing (Numbers 25:1-9).
Be Phinehas. Phinehas knew that the amount of sin the Israelite camp could handle was zero. They were the people of God. Twenty-four thousand corpses littered the camp because of an egregious sin, and here was a madman looking to reintroduce that exact sin while most of the camp was still weeping before the tabernacle. Unacceptable. Not even for a moment. Phinehas took up his spear and did something about it while the rest of Israel chose to stand by and watch.
When sin gathers at the gates of your heart, how do you handle it? Do you try to ignore it? Shoo it away? Let a little slip through the cracks as long as it’s not too much? Or do you follow the example of Phinehas, arm yourself for battle, and then eradicate it? Because that sin, however innocuous it appears, however innocent-looking, carries the seeds of destruction and death and you cannot handle it. This is not a matter of building up a tolerance or developing an immunity. You can’t. It’s impossible. All sin – all shapes, all sizes – can and will destroy you if you give it a home in your heart.
In Deuteronomy, God inspired Moses to record one of the Bible’s most difficult passages. It’s not difficult because it’s hard to understand, but because it’s hard to accept. He told the fledgling nation of Israel:
If your brother, the son of your mother, your son or your daughter, the wife of your bosom, or your friend who is as your own soul, secretly entices you, saying, ‘Let us go and serve other gods,’ which you have not known, neither you nor your fathers, of the gods of the people which are all around you, near to you or far off from you, from one end of the earth to the other end of the earth, you shall not consent to him or listen to him, nor shall your eye pity him, nor shall you spare him or conceal him; but you shall surely kill him; your hand shall be first against him to put him to death, and afterward the hand of all the people. And you shall stone him with stones until he dies, because he sought to entice you away from the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, from the house of bondage. So all Israel shall hear and fear, and not again do such wickedness as this among you. (Deuteronomy 13:6-11)
Your sibling. Your child. The spouse of your bosom, your friend who is as your own soul. Without question, these are the closest, most precious relationships any human being can have, and God singles them out to make a point. None of these relationships – not one, no matter how precious or how dear to our heart – none of these relationships are worth the price tag that comes with letting sin into our lives.
If this commandment seems harsh, consider Solomon, the wise king who warned us to guard our hearts. He failed to heed his own advice, and “it was so, when Solomon was old, that his wives turned his heart after other gods; and his heart was not loyal to the Lord his God, as was the heart of his father David. For Solomon went after Ashtoreth the goddess of the Sidonians, and after Milcom the abomination of the Ammonites. Solomon did evil in the sight of the Lord, and did not fully follow the Lord, as did his father David. Then Solomon built a high place for Chemosh the abomination of Moab, on the hill that is east of Jerusalem, and for Molech the abomination of the people of Ammon. And he did likewise for all his foreign wives, who burned incense and sacrificed to their gods” (1 Kings 11:4-8).
Ashtoreth, Milcom, Chemosh, Molech – these false gods were all pagan deities whose worship included everything from ritual prostitution to child sacrifice. I sincerely doubt that Solomon woke up one morning feeling like child sacrifice was a good idea. The road to that kind of depravity is a long one, littered with compromises and excuses and justifications – until one day the wisest man on earth is building furnaces for his people to burn their infants alive in the name of gods who don’t exist.
Solomon didn’t guard his heart. He tried to handle sin, and instead it handled him. Israel was a people under a unique, nationwide covenant with God, so Deuteronomy 13:6-11 doesn’t translate perfectly into today’s world, but the principle remains: The closer and more intimate our relationship with someone, the more influence and sway that person holds over our hearts. When these people are pursuing a relationship with God, this is a fantastic principle. Iron sharpens iron and we all push ourselves to greater and greater heights. But when these people are pursuing other gods – modern gods of money or self-interest or pleasure – then this principle is dangerous. As the Bible says, “He who walks with wise men will be wise, but the companion of fools will be destroyed” (Proverbs 13:20). The people you let into your heart are the people with the power to change your heart.
Who are you letting in? What are you letting in?
You cannot handle sin. Cannot. It lies at the door and waits, and it’s the only foothold Satan needs to step into your life and crush you. Don’t give him the chance. Be Phinehas. Take your spear and annihilate whatever thoughts and actions threaten to stand between you and your God. Give no quarter, take no prisoners. A war is raging, and your heart is the target. Will you keep it?

How do we know that there really was a Jesus? (Morning Companion)
How can we know that Jesus Christ really walked the face of the earth? Most people assumed that he lived. But is there any evidence of his existence other than what we find in the Bible?
The Bible tells us to prove all things. How can you know for a certainty that there really was a Jesus Christ?
Scripture tells us that Jesus’s life did not pass in obscurity – that his deeds were known and garnering much attention even during his lifetime. “Now when Herod saw Jesus, he was exceedingly glad; for he had desired for a long time to see Him, because he had heard many things about Him, and he hoped to see some miracle done by Him.” (Luke 23:8)
Paul before Herod and Festus recounted the story of his conversion in Acts 26:24-28:
Now as he thus made his defense, Festus said with a loud voice, “Paul, you are beside yourself! Much learning is driving you mad!” But he said, “I am not mad, most noble Festus, but speak the words of truth and reason. For the king, before whom I also speak freely, knows these things; for I am convinced that none of these things escapes his attention, since this thing was not done in a corner. King Agrippa, do you believe the prophets? I know that you do believe.” NKJV
Outside the pages of the Bible, can we prove that around 30AD a man named Jesus, called the Christ, walked the face of the earth?
The Babylonian Talmud is a record of writings and sayings from Jewish scholars, much of which had its origin in oral tradition. We read in the Babylonian Talmud Sanhedrin 43a:
On the Eve of Passover, they hanged Yeshu, and the herald went before him or forty days saying, “[Yeshu] is going forth to be stoned in that he hath practiced sorcery and beguiled and led astray Israel. Let everyone knowing aught in his defense come and plead for him.” But they found naught in his defense and hanged him on the eve of Passover.
Note that John 19:14 says that Jesus indeed was crucified on the eve of the Passover.
Following the above comments from the Talmud are remarks of ‘Ulla, a disciple of the Rabbi Yochanan, who lived in Palestine at the end of the third century:
‘Ulla said, “And do you suppose that for [Yeshu of Nazareth] there was any right of appeal? He was a beguiler, and the Merciful One hath said: Thou shalt not spare, neither shall you conceal him. It is otherwise with Yeshu, for he was near to the civil authority.”
What did the Pharisees and Scribes say Jesus was guilty of, that he would be worthy of death? See Mark 3/22, Matthew 9/34, and Matthew 12/24. “He casts out demons by Beelzebub, the Prince of demons.”
Note what these passages tell us, and note also that they were written by people who were not allies of Jesus:
1. That Jesus was hanged.
2. That it was on the Eve of the Passover
3. That Jesus lived and died.
4. That he was a “beguiler”, i.e., that he performed miracles, though they ascribed those miracles to Beelzebub instead of the Father.
5. And then an intriguing remark “He was near to the civil authority”, implying that he “got away with” his deception as long as he did because he knew the right people.
Item number 5 is almost a tacit admission that he knew people in high places. We do know that nobleman and wealthy people came to him for healing and advice. In Luke 8:3 we’re told that Joanna, wife of Cuza, the manager of Herod’s household was a follower of Jesus (NIV).
The point here is that Jesus’s own enemies admitted that he lived. and did not deny that he did miracles. First century contemporaries of Jesus and the apostles tried to discredit him through ad hominem attacks rather than than denying what he did.
One example is Rabbi Eliezer, a first century rabbi and contemporary of the apostles. He says the following:
Once I was walking along the upper market of Sepphoris and found one of the disciples of Jesus of Nazareth, and Jacob of Kefar Sekanya was his name. He said to me, “It is written in your Law, `Thou shalt not bring the hire of a harlot, etc.’ What was to be done with it: a latrine for the High Priest?” But I answered nothing. He said to me, “So Jesus of Nazareth [or Yeshu ben Pantere] taught me: For the hire of a harlot hath she gathered them, and unto the hire of a harlot shall they return.”
Why did the Rabbis refer to Jesus as “Yeshu ben Pantere”? See John 8:41. “We be not born of fornication.” Jesus’s enemies knew of the unusual circumstances of his birth and accused his mother of bearing him because of fornication. The phrase “Ben Pantere” means “son of Panther [or Pandera].” Rumor had it that Pandera was a Roman soldier who was supposed to have fathered Jesus. John 8:41 records their retort to Jesus. (“We be not born of fornication”).
The Greek word for “virgin” is parthenos, which could easily be corrupted to “Pantere” or “Pandera” to obscure the claim of Jesus being the son of a virgin.
We also have the testimony of Flavius Josephus, a first century historian and general. His two most famous works were Antiquities of the Jews and Wars of the Jews. He writes in Antiquities, Book XX, chap. 9.1:
And now Caesar, upon hearing of the death of Festus, sent Albinus into Judea as procurator … [The younger] Annanus … took the high priesthood … He was also of the sect of the Sadducees who were very rigid in judging offenders … When therefore Annanus was of this disposition, he thought he now had proper opportunity … So he assembled the Sanhedrin of the judges, and brought before him the brother of Jesus, who was called Christ, whose name was James, and some others, and when he had formed an accusation against them as breakers of the law, he delivered them to be stoned.
James the brother of Jesus is referred to in Matthew 13:55, 27:56, Galatians 1:19, and James 1:1. In Acts 15:13, he was the presiding officer at a major conference held in Jerusalem.
Again, from Antiquities, Book XVIII, chap. 3.3:
Now there was about this time, Jesus, a wise man [if it be lawful to call him a man]. For he was a doer of wonderful works, a teacher of such men as receive the truth with pleasure. He drew over to him both many of the Jews and many of the Gentiles. [He was the Messiah]. And when Pilate, at the suggestion of the principal men among us, had condemned him to the cross, those that loved him at the first did not forsake him [for he appeared to them alive again the third day, as the divine prophets had foretold these and ten thousand other wonderful things concerning him]. And the tribe of Christians, so named for him, are not extinct at this day.
Note: Some scholars believe that the bracketed phrases in the above passage were added by editors during the Middle Ages.
Even non-Christian Roman chroniclers refer to Jesus, such as the passage below from Tacitus’s Annales, written about 115 AD. Tacitus, no friend of Christianity, was a Roman historian. In this passage he discusses the burning of Rome in the time of Nero. He explains the origin of the name “Christian”:
Nero, in order stifle the rumor [as if he himself had set fire to Rome] ascribed it to those people who were hated for their wicked practices, and called by the vulgar “Christians”: these he punished exquisitely. The author of this name was Chrestus, who, in the reign of Tiberias, was brought to punishment by Pontius Pilate, the Procurator.
Note the salient points:
1. Tacitus wrote in the early 1st century.
2. He was a senator and had access to the official records of the Roman Empire.
3. By referring to the “mischievous superstition” that had at first been suppressed, but then broke out throughout the empire, he brings direct and unconscious testimony that the early Christians taught that Jesus had risen from the dead.
Other ancient writers appealed to official Roman records as proof that Jesus lived. Justin Martyr in 150 AD informs Antonius Pius of the fulfillment of Psalm 22:16:
But the words, “They pierced my hands and feet”, refer to the nails which were fixed in Jesus’ hands and feet on the cross; and after he was crucified, his executioners cast lots for his garments, and divided them up among themselves. That these things happened you may learn from the “Acts” which were recorded under Pontius Pilate” “That he performed these miracles you may easily satisfy yourself from the “Acts” of Pontius Pilate.
Justin asks the emperor to check up on him by reference to official records of the Roman Empire. Elsewhere, Justin appeals to census records to prove that Jesus really did live.
Says Joseph Klausner, professor at Hebrew University in Jerusalem and author of Jesus of Nazareth: His Life Teachings, and Times, says of the non-Christian historical evidence of Jesus:
If we possessed them alone, we would know nothing except that in Judea there had existed a Jew named Jesus who was called the Christ, the “Anointed”; that he performed miracles and taught the people; that he was killed by Pontius Pilate at the instigation of the Jews; that he had a brother named James, who was put to death by the High Priest Annas, the son of Annas; that owing to Jesus there arose a special sect known as Christians; that a community belonging to the sect existed in Rome fifty years after the birth of Jesus, and that because of this community the Jews were expelled from Rome; and finally, that from the time of Nero the sect greatly increased, regarding Jesus as virtually divine, and underwent severe persecution.
The ancient testimony that there really was a man named Jesus who walked this earth when the New Testament says he did. Was he merely a man? Was he what he and his disciples claimed him to be? Consider the words of C.S. Lewis: in Mere Christianity, Collier Books, pp 55-56:
I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people say about Him: “I’m ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don’t accept his claim to be God.” That is one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic – on a level with a man who says he is a poached egg – or else he would be the Devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronising nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He does not leave that open to us. He did not intend to. (From Mere Christianity, Collier Books, pp 55-56:)

When Messiah Comes (Think Red Ink Ministries)
How great it will be when Messiah comes and He explains everything that has been mysterious and contentious for thousands of years. The Samaritan “woman at the well” mentioned clarifications of doctrine that she expected will come  “when we see Him.”
I would like you to listen carefully to Messiah’s answer. “Well, sister, you’ll hear the answers from your Samaritan leadership … maybe a big-shot Rabbi … or perhaps your God will send a book with all the answers!”
As you know, He said nothing of the sort. Concisely, what He said was, “No need to wait, I’m telling you now.” She would retort, “What about Messiah?”
Then Jesus drops the bomb. “I am He!”
What I would like to zero in on is that His self description contained an adjective phrase that we should never forget.
John 4:25 “The woman saith unto him, I know that Messias cometh, which is called Christ: when he is come, he will tell us all things. Jesus saith unto her, I that speak unto thee am he.”
YHVH’s purpose has always been to communicate with us. From the days of walking with Adam in the cool of the day, to the giving of the Law at the first Pentecost, to speaking through His waiting ones at the Pentecost following the resurrection, to this day. He wants to speak to us.
So what was the descriptive used by Jesus to identify Himself?
“I that speak unto thee am he.”
Later on, to the chagrin of the religious leadership, Jesus healed a blind man. A man blind from birth. After the interrogations, allegations, and threats to the man and his family from the Synagogue leaders – the man was left alone.  Jesus found him.
John 9:35, “Jesus heard that they had cast him out; and when he had found him, he said unto him, Dost thou believe on the Son of God? He answered and said, Who is he, Lord, that I might believe on him?
And Jesus said unto him, Thou hast both seen him, and it is he that talketh with thee.”
And in keeping with His method of identification as Messiah – Son of God – Annointed One, Jesus said to him … “It is He … that talketh with thee.”
Our Messiah, our Passover, our counselor, has a characteristic that separates Him from any other god.
I Timothy 2:25 For there is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus.
Jesus identified His unique position with YHVH through His communication  – with us.
This is precisely why He is known as “The Word of God”.
Exactly who is Messiah? “It is He … that talketh with thee.”

Dangerous Beatitudes (Morning Companion)
What would you give to have a neighbor who lives a life of meekness and mercy, humility and honor? What if he is a justice-seeking warrior for peace, pure in heart, and poor in spirit? What if he stands boldly for doing what is right and does it with a humble servant’s heart? This sounds like someone I would love to have living next door to me.
Jesus begins his most famous sermon, the Sermon on the Mount, telling us to be that kind of neighbor (Matthew 5:1-10)
He says we are to be poor in spirit.
To mourn with those who mourn.
He says to be meek.
To hunger and thirst for righteousness.
To be humble, pure of heart, and a peacemaker.
Then he seasons this with something that seems so out of context for those who live such admirable lives:
Blessed are you when they revile and persecute you, and say all manner of evil against you falsely for my sake. Rejoice and be exceedingly glad, for great is your reward in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you. (Matthew 5:11-12)
Is Jesus saying that living a godly life in this world is downright dangerous? Try living such a life and see what happens.
Try humility in a world based on pride.
Try meekness in a system that rewards arrogance.
Try being a peacemaker when conflict is the currency of modern politics.
Try proclaiming righteousness in a society that celebrates deviancy.
Try being pure of heart in a culture bent on the narcissistic.
When Jesus told Pilate that his kingdom is not of this world, when he told his disciples to count the cost of discipleship, when he counsels that following him means taking up a cross, when he said these things, he meant every single word of it.
Commit to a life as taught by the Savior, and prepare for a life of challenges.

Hiraeth for the Kingdom (Sabbath Thoughts)
One of my favorite things about foreign languages are the words that don’t translate well. A crêpe, for instance, is not what most Americans call a pancake. It’s similar, for sure, but not the same. If a flapjack house gave you a plate full of crêpes, you’d notice the difference – and there’s a reason you never hear anyone raving about Pancake Suzette. They’re different words, each with their own distinct meanings and subtleties.
“Hiraeth” is another one of those untranslatable words, this time from the Welsh. It’s a concept that doesn’t exist in the English language, at least not within a single word. The closest we have is “homesickness,” but hiraeth isn’t homesickness – not any more than a crêpe is a flapjack. In The Paris Review, Pamela Petro describes it as the “difference between hardwood and laminate. Homesickness is hiraeth-lite.”
The long and storied culture of the Welsh made a word like hiraeth inevitable. In 1282, the burgeoning English empire conquered a people known as the Cymry, acquiring its very first colony and stripping away Cymry independence. Even the given name of “Wales” was a reminder of subjugation – roughly translated, it means “Place of the Others.” The Cymry, now called “the Welsh,” were to be outsiders, foreigners in their own country. There could be no returning to the country of the Cymry. They could return to their houses, but their country, their identity, was gone. All they had left was the hope that the heroes of their past would one day return and restore their country to what it once was.
Petro goes on to say: Hiraeth is a protest. If it must be called homesickness, it’s a sickness come on – in Welsh ailments come onto you, as if hopping aboard ship – because home isn’t the place it should have been. It’s an unattainable longing for a place, a person, a figure, even a national history that may never have actually existed. To feel hiraeth is to feel a deep incompleteness and recognize it as familiar.
What a word.
We’re fond of calling Hebrews 11 the faith chapter, and rightly so. But I think it’s something else, too – something we’ve never quite had the word for. It’s filled with stories of faithful men and women who accomplished impossible things in impossible ways, who willingly sacrificed their lives when it came time to lay them down. Why? For what purpose?
The verses tell us, over and over. Abraham dwelt in his tents as a stranger, “for he waited for the city which has foundations, whose builder and maker is God” (Hebrews 11:10). Moses gave up a life of royalty, “esteeming the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures in Egypt; for he looked to the reward” (Hebrews 11:26). Others “were tortured, not accepting deliverance, that they might obtain a better resurrection. Still others had trial of mockings and scourgings, yes, and of chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, were tempted, were slain with the sword. They wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented” (Hebrews 11:35-37). Why? Why?
Because of faith, yes, but faith in what? Where were they looking?
These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off were assured of them, embraced them and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. For those who say such things declare plainly that they seek a homeland. And truly if they had called to mind that country from which they had come out, they would have had opportunity to return. But now they desire a better, that is, a heavenly country. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them.(Hebrews 11:13-16)
Hebrews 11 is the hiraeth chapter. It always has been. Faith is one thing; faith that gives you the courage to suffer and die is something else entirely. I have faith that when I go to the ATM, I can withdraw money from my bank account – but I have no desire to die because of that faith. The stories of Hebrews 11 are stories of hiraeth – stories of men and women who saw their homeland, clear as day, more real than the world around them. They saw the Kingdom. Can you?
If there was ever a man with a good reason to lose sight of the Kingdom, it was Paul. Paul, who stood at the receiving end of a laundry list of injustices and abuses. Paul, who tells us he was “in stripes above measure, in prisons more frequently, in deaths often. From the Jews five times I received forty stripes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods; once I was stoned; three times I was shipwrecked; a night and a day I have been in the deep; in journeys often, in perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils of my own countrymen, in perils of the Gentiles, in perils in the city, in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils among false brethren; in weariness and toil, in sleeplessness often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in cold and nakedness” (2 Corinthians 11:23-27).
Three shipwrecks. Three shipwrecks is about two shipwrecks past the point where most people start getting uncomfortable with the idea of boats. But not Paul. Paul had the faith to see the Kingdom and the hiraeth to remind him how desperately he longed to be there. His gaze was fixed on it. He could see it. He could see it while he was floating hopelessly on the sea. He could see it while his own countrymen pummeled him with rods and whips and stones. He could see it when he was hungry, when he was exhausted, when he was cold and naked and abandoned.
Years later, writing to the Philippians, Paul said, “I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need” (Philippians 4:11-12, English Standard Version).
What a strange concept. A secret to dealing not only with adversity, but with abundance as well – and Paul had learned it. He shares that secret in the very next verse: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13). 
That’s great. That’s extremely encouraging. But the question we need to be asking of this verse is “Why?” Why did Paul even want to be doing all things through Christ who strengthened him? Why didn’t Paul look back on his life and say, “you know what, three shipwrecks are three shipwrecks too many; I’m done doing all things. Let someone else worry about them”? 
Hiraeth, that’s why.
Paul saw it. Every day, he saw the Kingdom. Every day, he knew it was where he was headed and he knew it was where he wanted to be. The secret to dealing with abundance and adversity is understanding that both those conditions can distract a Christian from what really matters. How can we seek the Kingdom when we’re struggling to feed our family? And how can we care about the Kingdom when we already have every material thing we could possibly need? The answer to both questions is the same: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” Can you see it?
It’s not about “solving” or “fixing” adversity and abundance. It’s about accepting strength from Christ to look past both those trees and start paying attention to the forest. It’s about fixing our eyes on the one thing that truly matters and then pushing toward it with all of our might and with all of God’s might. Can you see it?
Earlier in Philippians – an epistle Paul most likely authored under house arrest – he explained, “For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain … For I am hard-pressed between the two, having a desire to depart and be with Christ, which is far better” (Philippians 1:21,23). There wasn’t a doubt in his mind – he was here on earth to do a job, to serve God and His people, but Paul’s ultimate desire was to “depart and be with Christ.”
Paul knew that, after his death, his next conscious moment would be with his Lord and Savior. The God he so zealously served would raise him from the dead, transformed in a way that defies imagination, and he would be home. Can you see it?
For Paul, that moment is still coming, just as it’s still coming for all of God’s faithful servants, “God having provided something better for us, that they should not be made perfect apart from us” (Hebrews 11:40).
Brethren, can you see it?
In Paul’s very last epistle, written shortly before his execution, Paul left Timothy (and all of us) with these words:
For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Finally, there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give to me on that Day, and not to me only but also to all who have loved His appearing. (2 Timothy 4:6-8) These are not the words of a man unsure of his destiny or struggling to come to terms with death. These are the words of a man of faith and zeal and hiraeth. At the moment he penned those words, Paul was the closest he had ever been to the Kingdom of God. All the beatings, the shipwrecks, the scourgings, the persecutions – every loss he suffered, he chose to “count as rubbish, that I may gain Christ” (Philippians 3:8). He knew where he was going and he knew what mattered – and it certainly wasn’t the rubbish all around him.
Paul saw his homeland, and he longed for it. Do you?

The Time That Matters (Sabbath Thoughts)
Israel spent 40 years in the wilderness on the way to the Promised Land, and it turns out that that Bible gives short shrift to most of those years. It’s not immediately obvious until you pay close attention to the timestamps scattered throughout the Pentateuch, but 38 of those years happen between chapters 15 and 36 of the book of Numbers.
That’s a blip. Israel’s journey from Egypt to Canaan spans the books of Exodus all the way to Deuteronomy – and 38 years of that journey are crammed into 22 chapters. Why? Because those years, for the most part, don’t matter.
Those were the years of punishment. Israel lost their nerve in Numbers 14 – they rejected God, they rebelled against His commands, and they were sentenced to spend a total of 40 years wandering in the empty space between what they’d left behind and where they were going. An entire generation needed to die off before God would allow Israel a second opportunity to claim their inheritance.
Those years happened. That generation died. God doesn’t tell us much about what happened during that time. From what we can tell, most of those years weren’t time that mattered.
By contrast, Israel only spent about 11 months camped out in front of Mount Sinai. Those 11 months are recorded beginning in Exodus 19… and they continue on all the way into Numbers 10. That’s 59 chapters – over one and a half books of the Bible – dedicated to the events of 11 months.
What do we get in those 59 chapters? We get the Ten Commandments. We get the layout and the function of the tabernacle. We get insight into sacrifices and priestly duties and dozens upon dozens of statutes, precepts, and commandments detailing what it means to live a Godly way of life.
Time that matters. Time that doesn’t.
The 38 years those Israelites spent waiting to die weren’t actually shorter than the months they spent at Sinai – but they weren’t worth detailing in the same way.
The contrast is even sharper when you step back and look at the whole Pentateuch. The first five books of the Bible cover more than 2,500 years of human history. They take us from the dawn of creation all the way up to the border of the Promised Land – and God used one of those books (plus significant portions of two others) to tell us about what happened during a span of time measured in months. Then He gave us the book of Deuteronomy – essentially a highlight reel covering much of that same short timeframe.
Two and a half millennia stretching across 5 books, and around half of that text is focused on the 11 months Israel spent at Sinai. I think it’s safe to say that God places a special emphasis on those 11 months. I think it’s safe to say those might be 11 of the most important months in all of human history. I think it’s safe to say there’s a lesson for us in that.
A second is a second. An hour is an hour. A year is a year. There’s nothing inherently special about the passage of time itself. What makes a second or an hour or a year special is what we do with it.
Given the choice, are we more likely to spend our time wandering in the empty spaces of life, or seated before the mountain of God, waiting to hear what He has to say?
One is easy to do. One is hard. One matters. One doesn’t.
We won’t always get it right, but we always have the opportunity to get it right. That wasn’t true for the Israelites, but it is for us. No matter how long we’ve spent wandering, we always have the ability to come back, pitch our tent, and listen. God had a destination in mind for Israel, but they chose the long and painful route. If we trust Him, God will take use where we need to go, when we need to go there.
The time that matters is the time we spend following His lead. 

The Five Most Important People in Your Life (Morning Companion)
Somebody once posited that you become the average of the five people you spend the most time with.
If we hang around grumpy people, we tend to become grumpy.
If we hang around worriers, we tend to be filled with worry.
If we hang around successful people, we become more successful.
If we hang around happy, positive people, we become happier and more positive.
And so on.
There is a large kernel of truth in that observation, and it speaks to choosing your friends and associates wisely. Some interesting observations from the Book of Proverbs and elsewhere:
Proverbs 12:26 One who is righteous is a guide to his neighbor, but the way of the wicked leads them astray.
Proverbs 13:20 Whoever walks with the wise becomes wise, but the companion of fools will suffer harm.
Proverbs 14:6-7 Leave the presence of a fool, for there you do not meet words of knowledge.
Proverbs 22:24-25 Make no friendship with a man given to anger, nor go with a wrathful man, lest you learn his ways and entangle yourself in a snare.
1 Corinthians 15:33 Do not be deceived: “Bad company ruins good morals.”
Proverbs 11:14 Where there is no guidance, a people falls, but in an abundance of counselors there is safety.
Some practical advice:
* If you are in a toxic work environment, start looking for employment elsewhere. Not every workplace is a sweatshop.
* If your friends and acquaintances are the type who focus on the cloud when there is a silver lining, find some new friends and acquaintances.
* If your church focuses on the negative instead of the Good News, question whether or not they really understand the gospel. If they don’t understand the virtues of joy and grace, find a church that does.
* If the people you hang with or work with are satisfied with “good enough”, reject the settling for mediocrity and find associates who are dedicated to excellence.
* If people in your life are gaslighting you (look it up), get them out of your life immediately.
* If people gossip to you, they will also gossip about you. Keep your distance.
* Find five people who have interests and values you admire. Make these people a part of your life.
Personally, I find spending time in the Gospels to be a good adjunct to surrounding yourself with the people you want to be the most like. Jesus did say, did he not, that he considered his disciples to be his friends (John 15:15), and if so, then why not us?
The four Gospels show us how he influenced others, how he stood for the weak, and how he lived a life of compassion. They reveal a man of character and strength, intelligence and humor, service and self-sacrifice. Who wouldn’t want to become like that?
So pick your five friends carefully – but also remember that Sixth One.

“Are you going to believe me or your own eyes?” (Morning Companion)
After a major political event I am more fascinated by the journalistic commentary that follows it than the event itself. I’m interested in other people’s take on what happened, even though it might remind me of Chico Marx’s line at the head of this column.
Jesus had the same type of press. He healed the sick, raised the dead, fed the multitudes, and taught a new and living way. If that’s all he ever did, it’s doubtful that the religious elite of the day would have tried to destroy him. But Jesus had a little problem. His teachings did not fit in the little box of religion that his contemporaries had constructed for their concept of God. He preached unique ideas that threatened the current power structure. That was a threat they could not let stand.
Jesus once healed a blind man, who then came to the conclusion that “if this man were not of God, he could do nothing.” (John 9:33) The religious leaders’ retort? “You were altogether born in sin, and do you teach us?” (verse 34) Are you going to believe us or your own eyes?
Another time the Pharisees and chief priests sent a contingent of temple guards to arrest Jesus, but his teaching was so compelling that the guards refused their orders. “Never has a man spoken like this,” they told the Pharisees, who retorted, “Have any of the rulers or Pharisees believed on him? These people who are ignorant of the law are cursed.” (John 7:46-49)
These religious elites clearly held a high view of themselves and a condescending view of the unwashed masses. When they said, “These people who are ignorant of the law are cursed”, they sound suspiciously like certain elements of our own culture.
It’s good to seek out others’ opinions and to listen to their learned commentary, but no one has a right to tell you how to think or to call you names if you happen to disagree. There is a lot of that going on these days.

“Service Engine Soon” (Sabbath Thoughts)
My “SERVICE ENGINE SOON” light came on today.
I hate that light. It is probably the most evil light in the world. That one light can mean everything from “Your fuel cap isn’t on tight enough” to “In less than two hours, your entire car is primed to explode,” and I have no way to know which. Not that it will stop me from trying. I already know that, sometime before I bring it to a mechanic (and probably while my wife is watching), I will open up the hood of my car and stare thoughtfully at the collection of unintelligible parts in front of me. My brow will likely be furrowed.
“The anti-carbonation injector is jammed,” I will say emphatically. “Maybe.” And then I will take it to someone who knows what they are doing, because I know in my heart that if I tried to tamper with any of those rubber hoses, my car would shoot transmission fluid out its exhaust pipe the next time I honked the horn.
After the mechanic has examined my car and explained the problem to me in a language I don’t understand, he will tell me that the part he needs to fix my problem is only manufactured in a war-torn country located in the Baltics, and that I will have to personally provide the airfare for the five secret agents who will be risking their lives to smuggle it into the United States. I will do this because I desperately want my transmission fluid to remain doing whatever it does in the transmission. Transmissioning, I guess.
Making the problem worse … It’s not that I’m stupid. I regularly change my own oil, and I’ve even (with help) swapped out a radiator and an alternator on separate occasions. I just don’t have the working knowledge of a car’s innards like a mechanic does – and even if I did, I likely wouldn’t have the tools required to get the job done right. If there’s a problem that takes much more than duct tape, WD-40 or Google to fix, I’m going to be seeking out a professional – someone with the knowledge and the resources to ensure the job gets done the way it needs to be done.
And yet, I’m amazed at how often I and others take the opposite approach when it comes to life’s problems. When the “SERVICE ENGINE SOON” light comes on in our own lives and we realize something’s wrong, our first reaction can be to confidently pop open the hood and start ripping out and replacing parts we know nothing about. Almost inevitably, those “improvements” tend to backfire in undesirable ways and make the matter worse – all because we tried fixing the problem before we were even sure what that problem was. There’s a better way.
The Master Mechanic designed your every working part; He has an intimate and perfect understanding of every little thing that has, will, or could possibly happen in your life and how it can affect you. Before you go trying to rebuild your entire engine based on your best guesses, why not consult your Creator? This is the same God who designed the complex interactions of the universe on an subatomic level and set the planets revolving around their respective suns; it’s safe to assume He can also show you the reason for your “SERVICE ENGINE SOON” light.
The book of Judges tells some of the early history of Israel, and its author was twice inspired to write, “In those days there was no king in Israel; everyone did what was right in his own eyes” (Judges 17:6; 21:25). In the absence of any God-fearing leadership (or any leadership at all!), the nation of Israel had reverted to doing its own thing. Because the people on their own were not inclined to seek after God, Israel plunged itself again and again into a state of chaos and disrepair – and despite several instances of returning to seeking God, they would still choose to settle back into their approach of everyone doing “what was right in his own eyes.”
Read through the book of Judges and you’ll see a historical account of what this approach to life produces – more than anything, you’ll find a lack of order, safety, consistency and a degraded quality of life. That’s the same thing that happens when we try to fix ourselves without God’s help. When we ignore God’s infinite wisdom and act on our own ideas of right and wrong, we will find ourselves living a life filled with confusion and worries, falling consistently short of its potential.
Consult the owner’s manual
Inside your car’s glove box, probably buried under napkins and old receipts, is a thick little manual that explains how to take care of your car. It explains everything from how to turn it on to exactly how many pounds per square inch of air your tires need to be properly inflated, but there’s no way it can get that information to you if you don’t first open it up and read it.
Our owner’s manual, the Bible, was inspired by our Master Mechanic. We talk to God through prayer, and the Bible is one way He talks to us. It doesn’t make sense to call up a mechanic, tell him your car has a problem, and then hang up before he can answer – and it makes just as little sense to ask God for His help and then not read what He has to tell you in the pages of the Bible. If you want to know how to live your life to its maximum potential, read the manual. The Author knew what He was doing when He inspired it to be written. There is a part that looks right to a man…
This is a lesson I learned the hard way. When my brother-in-law and I tried to replace my car’s alternator, I went to O’Reily’s Auto Parts, I told them my car’s make, model and year, I bought the replacement part, we opened up the hood, and found … that it didn’t fit. Which was awesome.
Long story short, we found out my car changed its models mid-year, which meant the alternator I had was designed to fit in the car one model year behind mine. It looked just like the part we’d taken out, it performed the same function as the part we’d taken out, but it just didn’t fit right, no matter how many times we tried to muscle it on there. It didn’t matter that it was only one model year away from what we needed – it could have been one hundred years away and been just as useless. If you don’t have the right part, you can’t do the right job.
The Bible tells us, “There is a way that seems right to a man, but its end is the way of death” (Proverbs 14:12; 16:25). After we’ve gone to God and studied His Word for an answer to our difficulty, we can sometimes trick ourselves into thinking we’ve found a replacement part that works just as well as what God prescribed. Sometimes, like in my story, we might honestly believe we’re putting the correct part in place, only to meet with frustration and wasted effort. There are parts that look right to us, but unless we’re absolutely sure that they’re the ones God told us to use, they can only end in headache.
In our physical, day-to-day lives, we take our cars to mechanics when the problem is beyond us because they have the knowledge and the ability to fix what’s broken. In our spiritual lives, we can – and must – take our problems to our Father, since He is the only one in the universe with the understanding and capacity to repair us. With Him, we have the added benefit of a Mechanic who never makes mistakes and who can perfectly diagnose and help us to correct the problem. The “SERVICE ENGINE SOON” light in your life need not be a mystery. As Daniel told King Nebuchadnezzar, “there is a God in heaven who reveals secrets” (Daniel 2:28), and there is no doubt that He can do just that in our own lives. Ultimately, how you approach a problem in your life is your decision, but there are smart decisions and there are stupid decisions. Trying to do it your own way is undoubtedly a stupid decision.
As for me and my house, we will have our cars serviced by the Lord.

Who Is Your Canada? (New Church Lady)
Mary Ann Shadd Cary, born in 1823, was a writer, an educator, a lawyer, an abolitionist and the first black woman in North America to edit and publish a newspaper. Her obituary was published in the NY Times in June 2018 in a special series called Overlooked.
“In 1850, when the US Congress passed the Fugitive Slave Act – which compelled Americans to assist in the capture of runaway slaves, and levied heavy penalties on those who did not comply – Shadd Cary and some other members of her family left the United States for Canada.
From there, she published several pieces that “advertised Canada as a safe haven for former slaves.”
During the Vietnam War, many American men, seeking to evade the draft fled to Canada – perhaps up to 40,000, according to some estimates. Among them was Eric Naglar:
“In Canada the worst that we had was the French-English problem …” he said.
“Why would I want to live there? This is a much, much better place to be.”
An article written by Robin Levinson King, “A Brief History of Americans Moving to Canada,” recounts this phenomenon going all the way back to the time when “About 100,000 colonists loyal to the king fled the thirteen colonies either during or just after the Revolutionary War”.
In the fictional book “The Handmaid’s Tale” written by Margaret Atwood, those seeking freedom from an oppressive regime, that has taken over the former USA, flee to Canada.
Who is your Canada? To where do you flee when you need to escape oppression? When you are afraid? When you need to be free?
The Psalms repeatedly point us to our place of refuge from any trouble, fear or trial.
Psalm 143:9 [NIV] Rescue me from my enemies, LORD, for I hide myself in you. The King James says I flee unto Thee to hide me.
Psalm 32:7 [NIV] You are my hiding place; you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance.
Psalm 27:5 [ESV] For he will hide me in his shelter in the day of trouble; he will conceal me under the cover of his tent; he will lift me high upon a rock.
Psalm 64:2 [ESV] Hide me from the secret plots of the wicked, from the throng of evildoers.
Hopefully, all of you already view God as your place of refuge to hide from the storms of life and have developed the habit of fleeing to Him in prayer and study.
In addition to finding refuge in God’s presence, your place of worship should be a refuge – a place where you are safe from the struggles and drama of day-to-day living, free from tyranny and oppression and where you are welcomed, as Canada has welcomed US Citizens for centuries. You should look forward to going there and fellowshipping with other refugees from Satan’s world.

Loud World and a Quiet Voice (Sabbath Thoughts)
The world is so loud. All it takes is the push of a button for noise to come crashing in like an unrelenting waterfall. My car has a button that funnels popular music and obnoxious advertisements through my speakers. My remote control has a button than transforms my television from a sedentary black square into a theater filled with perpetually changing sounds and scenes. My laptop has a button that connects it to every opinion, production, and scrap of knowledge possessed by mankind.
That’s insane. There is a time within living memory when carrier pigeons were a viable means of communication; today a handful of devices found in most American homes are capable of sending messages across the world in less time than it takes to address an envelope. My toaster cannot yet access the Internet, but it is only a matter of time. Every day technology makes mind-boggling leaps and bounds into areas previously considered impossible – and every day, it grows increasingly intertwined with our lives.
I’m reminded somewhat of Elijah’s encounter with God, when God called him to “‘stand on the mountain before the Lord.’ And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind tore into the mountains and broke the rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a still small voice. So it was, when Elijah heard it, that he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood in the entrance of the cave” (1 Kings 19:11-13).
It was all so much noise, so much spectacle, so much distraction. What Elijah really needed to focus on was not the sight of the fire, or the sounds of the wind, or the rumblings of the earthquake. What God called him to that mountain to hear was instead a still small voice. God’s still small voice.
Elijah had winds and fires and earthquakes; we have Facebook and Primetime TV. These things aren’t wrong in and of themselves. They’re not inherently evil, but, like the things Elijah saw from atop the mountain, the Lord is not in them. When our time is filled mostly with the distractions – the parts of life that don’t contain God or Godly things – then we’ll start to notice that we’re hearing less and less of that still small voice. It’s not God getting quieter; it’s us getting louder.
Our Creator will not shout above the world in order to be heard. He wants to speak with us, but the words He wants us to hear are ones that will only do us good when we are willing to hear them. If the noise you let in is too chaotic to hear your own thoughts, how can you expect to hear God? To focus on the still small voice of the Lord, we must first quiet ourselves and shut out the noise of the world.
There exists within every human being a kind of vacuum. It isn’t comfortable. If anything, it’s unsettling – part of our very being, empty and crying out to be filled. The natural inclination is to fill it, and the myriad of stuff in the world seems like such a perfect fit. Even as converted, baptized Christians, it can be hard to resist filling that vacuum with the distractions around us – but, somewhere around our third time breaking our own video game high score, we become aware of the nagging realization that all these distractions aren’t filling anything. They only convince us to look the other way while the real problem worsens.
That vacuum within the inner parts of our being was designed to be, can only be, filled by God. Nothing the world has to offer, no matter how flashy, no matter how impressive, no matter how advanced, can fill that void. It’s God and God alone. If you want to try and fill it with other things, He won’t stop you from drowning out His still small voice while you seek out your own solution, but the end result will be the same. Until you tell the world you have more important things to do and begin to diligently seek after what that still small voice has to say, your vacuum will only tug at your consciousness harder and harder.
The world is so loud … but that doesn’t mean we’re obligated to listen to it. There are better things to give our attention to – and those things begin and end with God.

No Weapon Forged Against Us (New Church Lady)
Often, in the midst of trial, we can be comforted by Isaiah 54:17 [KJV], which says, “No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper; and every tongue [that] shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn. This [is] the heritage of the servants of the LORD, and their righteousness [is] of me, saith the LORD.”
Often, in prayer for someone struggling with a serious trial or temptation, we remind God of His promise that “no weapon formed against us will prosper.”
But, what does it mean that no weapon formed against us will prosper? What exactly is God guaranteeing in Isaiah 54:17?  “No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper”
The NIV puts it this way, “No weapon forged against you will prevail, and you will refute every tongue that accuses you. This is the heritage of the servants of the LORD, and this is their vindication from me,” declares the LORD.
The ESV says, “No weapon that is fashioned against you shall succeed, and you shall refute every tongue that rises against you in judgment. This is the heritage of the servants of the LORD and their vindication from me, declares the LORD.”
Does this mean that God won’t let Satan send us trials? No. We see, for example, that God specifically gave Satan permission to cause Job to suffer a very severe trial.
Does it mean that God won’t let us be killed? No. Most of the apostles were martyred. I have personally witnessed many of God’s saints die from cancer – some of them leaving behind young children. I’ve known of faithful servants of God who lost a child to crib death or a mate in a car accident.
Does it mean that God won’t let us lose a job for obediently keeping His Sabbath or Holy Days? No. That happens even in countries like the USA, where the right to worship as we choose without persecution is supposed to be guaranteed.
Doesn’t it seem that, in these cases, the weapons formed against us have, in fact, actually prospered?
Satan’s weapons are powerful. They can hurt “like the devil” – wreck our lives, wreck our finances, wreck our health, rob us of sleep, rob us of loved ones, etc.
But make no mistake about it, the weapons Satan forges against us cannot prosper or prevail as long as we never let go of God. As long as the weapons forged against us do not loosen our grip on the promises of the Kingdom, these weapons do not prevail.
Further, Satan’s weapons cannot prosper because of what we read in Romans 8:35-39 [NIV] Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written: “For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.” No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
As long as we cannot be separated from the love of God, nothing Satan throws at us, no weapon he forges against, can ultimately prosper. Though it kill us, that weapon will not prosper or succeed in its purpose.
You see, the weapons Satan forges against us are not primarily focused on making our lives miserable on this earth. Ruining a mere potential of “3 score and 10 years” of a believer’s life isn’t what Satan cares about. He is far more interested in destroying our eternity. And he fails every time a believer makes it through the trial without giving up his/her faith in God, focus on the Kingdom and commitment to obedience in spite of it all.
Every time a fellow servant dies in the faith, Satan’s weapon has failed. Every time a child of God shows love in response to hate or sows peace with one who intended war, Satan’s weapon has failed.
Every time a Christian puts God before job or country, Satan’s weapon has failed.
Every time, in the midst of great loss, a believer hangs on to faith, Satan’s weapon has failed.
Every time a sinner goes humbly before the Just Judge, admitting fault and begging forgiveness, and comes away washed clean by the precious blood of Jesus, Satan’s weapon has failed.
Because, as we are told in 1 Corinthians 15:19 [NIV], If only for this life we have hope in Christ, we are of all people most to be pitied, neither should we be focused on what Satan’s weapons may do to our bodies, minds, families, stature in the community or finances in these 70ish years of human life. We too should be focused on our hope in the next life.
With Jesus Christ on our side, the Holy Spirit in us, and our eyes firmly focused on the Kingdom of God, Satan’s weapons cannot succeed in their mission to destroy our eternal futures.
To wrap this up, I want to remind you of Romans 8:31 [NIV] What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? God is for us, sweet sisters. Satan forges many damaging weapons. The weapons of Satan do hurt and destroy, in this life. They can claim a few battles won. But they cannot prevail.
That is a promised forged in the Father’s own love for us and sealed with the precious blood of Jesus.

Warrior Builders (Sabbath Thoughts)
For seventy years after Nebuchadnezzar’s raids, the city of Jerusalem lay desolate. Its walls were toppled and burned, and the once awesome temple of God had been razed to the ground. Streets which had once been overrun with noise and clamor were as silent as the grave, and any houses that remained upright stood silently collecting the dust of seven decades. Centuries of God’s people rejecting His way and His protection had finally wrought the city’s destruction – those who hadn’t been slain in the battles were living as captives in a foreign land. Jerusalem was empty.
Empty, but not deserted. The God whose “eyes… run to and fro throughout the whole earth” (2 Chronicles 16:9) had never stopped watching over the city of His people – and even in the quietude of desolation, He was arranging events to bring His people back. At the end of the time frame established by God and at the command of a king whose name had long ago been prophesied (Jeremiah 25:12; Isaiah 44:28), a decree was made:
“Thus says Cyrus king of Persia: All the kingdoms of the earth the Lord God of heaven has given me. And He has commanded me to build Him a house at Jerusalem which is in Judah. Who is among you of all His people? May his God be with him, and let him go up to Jerusalem which is in Judah, and build the house of the Lord God of Israel (He is God), which is in Jerusalem. And whoever is left in any place where he dwells, let the men of his place help him with silver and gold, with goods and livestock, besides the freewill offerings for the house of God which is in Jerusalem.” (Ezra 1:2-4)
After seventy years of captivity, the Jews were free to go home to their country, and even King Cyrus had been divinely inspired (Ezra 1:1) to know the reason why: it was time to build.
Your purpose on earth
Let me ask a question. Why are you here?
It’s not a new question. The human race has been looking for an answer ever since it left the garden of Eden, and in that time we’ve managed to invent a staggering number of solutions … some mildly more coherent than others. But if you’ve been in the Church for any length of time, you know the real answer: we’re here because God is building a family, and because He wants us to be part of it.
But why are you here, specifically? If becoming part of God’s family is the ultimate goal, what’s the reason for this stint on earth as a human being? Why this life? Why this existence? Why are you here?
We talk sometimes about fighting the good fight (1 Timothy 6:12), about putting on the armor of God (Ephesians 6:11), and about standing “against the wiles of the devil” (Ephesians 6:10). These are all important things, and they are things a Christian can and must be doing. But are they the reasons we’re here? Did God put us on this earth just to fight against Satan and his demons?
A lesson from the exiles
The Jews in the time of Ezra and Nehemiah had the need to take up arms as well. Returning from captivity, they faced opposition from antagonists who wanted nothing more than to stop the reconstruction of God’s temple. When mountains of red tape and intimidation tactics ultimately failed, these adversaries resorted to a plan of outright bloodshed. They decided to attack and kill the Jews, reasoning that “They will neither know nor see anything, till we come into their midst and kill them and cause the work to cease” (Nehemiah 4:11).
Except God’s people caught wind of it. They took up swords, spears, and bows and stood watch wherever the wall was weak or unbuilt, and Nehemiah spurred the people on:
“Do not be afraid of them. Remember the Lord, great and awesome, and fight for your brethren, your sons, your daughters, your wives, and your houses.”
And it happened, when our enemies heard that it was known to us, and that God had brought their plot to nothing, that all of us returned to the wall, everyone to his work. So it was, from that time on, that half of my servants worked at construction, while the other half held the spears, the shields, the bows, and wore armor; and the leaders were behind all the house of Judah. Those who built on the wall, and those who carried burdens, loaded themselves so that with one hand they worked at construction, and with the other held a weapon. Every one of the builders had his sword girded at his side as he built. And the one who sounded the trumpet was beside me. (Nehemiah 4:14-18)
The Jews had not returned from captivity to fight. Circumstances, however, forced them to adapt, building with one hand and ready to fight with the other. Under Nehemiah’s guidance and God’s blessing, these former captives became a force to be reckoned with – they became warrior builders, prepared to do battle with anyone seeking to destroy what God had called them to build.
Warrior builders
Does any of this sound familiar? A chosen people, called out of captivity to build the temple of God under oppression from relentless adversaries. If you’re noticing a common thread, there’s a reason. One of the vital lessons of the books of Nehemiah and Ezra is why God’s people were there – and one of the vital truths we need to understand today is why we are here.
God did not put us on this earth just to pit us against Satan.
That’s not to say we don’t need to fight Satan. Like the adversaries of Nehemiah and Ezra, the devil and his demons are seeking to derail the work God is doing. Taking up the armor of God and fighting the good fight is an absolute necessity, but it’s not the main reason we’re here.
The people under Nehemiah were not warriors who had taken up remodeling as a hobby. They were builders who had taken up arms in order to protect what they had been divinely commanded to build. We likewise are not given the sword of the Spirit (Ephesians 6:17) in order wage a one-man crusade against Satan. We take up the whole armor of God so that we can have the strength to “stand against the wiles of the devil” (Ephesians 6:13), but nowhere are we told to go pick a fight with him. No, we’re here for a much greater reason.
The greatest temple
God’s temple had several iterations throughout Israel’s history. King Solomon was the first to build it – a glorious house ornamented with precious metals, colorful threads, and beautiful woodwork. That temple was ultimately destroyed in the raids that desolated Jerusalem and placed her inhabitants into captivity. After seventy years, the temple was rebuilt and defended under leaders like Ezra and Nehemiah … but it, too, was destroyed after God’s people again fell into a pattern of rejecting Him.
But there’s another temple being built. Unlike the previous versions, this temple cannot be built with human hands or with human tools. Paul writes about it, asking, “Do you not know that you are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? If anyone defiles the temple of God, God will destroy him. For the temple of God is holy, which temple you are” (1 Corinthians 3:16-17, emphasis added). This new temple is God’s Church. Peter writes about us as “living stones”, who “are being built up a spiritual house, a holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ … a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light; who once were not a people but are now the people of God, who had not obtained mercy but now have obtained mercy” (1 Peter 2:5, 9-10). We’re a work in progress. There’s still a great deal of building to be done, but that’s okay, because that’s why we’re here.
We just looked at Paul’s declaration that God’s temple is now composed of His people, but let’s back up just a few verses and get the context. Paul wrote:
For no other foundation can anyone lay than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ. Now if anyone builds on this foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw, each one’s work will become clear; for the Day will declare it, because it will be revealed by fire; and the fire will test each one’s work, of what sort it is. If anyone’s work which he has built on it endures, he will receive a reward. If anyone’s work is burned, he will suffer loss; but he himself will be saved, yet so as through fire.
Do you not know that you are the temple of God and that the Spirit of God dwells in you? (1 Corinthians 3:13-16)
God has given us a set of plans for the greatest temple of them all – His Church. His family. You are here to help build it.

The Past: Learning From It, Without Living In It (Sabbath Meditations)
We may know of someone for whom past experience has soured current aspects of their life. It may be the person who, because of one or several failed romantic relationship, has exiled themselves to a life of loneliness, refusing to risk further emotional trauma. Or it might be the individual who, having been raised in an abusive childhood, determines to never bring children of their own into such a potentially painful world. Or perhaps it’s the Christian, having been soured by experience with “organized” religion, who washes their hands of it altogether, packs up their Bible and Concordance and proceeds to “go it alone” on their own little spiritual island.
Whatever the hurts and injustices we’ve suffered or witnessed in the past, living in it rather than using it as a tutor to guide ourselves or others to a more successful future, makes us its victim.
I believe that we as Christians, perhaps more than most, have a tendency to fall into this trap. We as a group have very sensitive noses for justice. We are keenly aware of right and wrong and we have a definite desire to see righteousness prevail and evil punished. Although a desirable quality in most cases, this sensitivity has the potential to work against us. In a world where the evil too often emerge victorious and injustices are a daily occurrence, our spirits can easily become embittered, cynical and negative. Allowed to linger, this fixation on the injustices of the world can ultimately serve to rob us of our joy and inhibit our growth forward. We become victims of the past rather than its students.
In Philippians 3:12, through the example of Paul, we are admonished to forget those things which are behind and reach forward to those things which are ahead.
In Matthew 10:16 Jesus tells us “Behold, I send you out as sheep in the midst of wolves. Therefore be wise as serpents and harmless as doves.”
Taken together, these passages encourage us to not let the past cripple us but rather to gain wisdom from the injustices we or others have witnessed or experienced, and use that wisdom to move forward in a positive, productive direction.
God wants us to look ahead to Him as the Author and Finisher of our Faith and toward what He has in store for us. We can’t do that if we are constantly obsessed by what’s back over our shoulder. Yes, it’s true. Those who do not learn from the past are doomed to repeat it. We shouldn’t ignore the past. Let’s learn from it, gain wisdom because of it, but not be victimized by it. It’s okay to visit there once in a while, but it’s definitely not a healthy place to live.

Burning the Scriptures We Don’t Like (Morning Companion)
There are times when I would love to take out my pocket knife and slice away the part of Scripture that I don’t like.
Who wants to be told that it’s not “all about me”, and that we need to be concerned about the needs of others? (Philippians 2:3)
Who wants to be told that hard work is better than laziness, and there are consequences to the habit of idleness? (Proverbs 6:6-11)
Who wants to be told that my body is not mine “to do with as I please as long as it doesn’t hurt anybody,” and that I am not really the arbiter of what is right and what is wrong? (I Corinthians 6:19)
Jeremiah’s book recounts a story of a king who, when confronted with some uncomfortable – nay, condemning – words from God, pulled out his pocket knife and began slicing away pieces of the text from which the scribe was reading and, to the horror of those around him, depositing such pieces into the blazing fireplace.
God was not amused, and he ordered Jeremiah to recreate the burned up text and add curses to it. It did not turn out well for that king or his nation when he rejected wholesale the message of the prophet.
We know that some people do like to burn books, and we rightly frown on this extreme form of censorship. But if we accept the Scripture as God’s Word, why would we decide which part is to be condemned to the flames and which part to keep? Do we base that decision on what feels good at the time?
In many ways we are no different than any other people at any time in history. We want to hear what we want to hear. Isaiah wrote of a people who said, “Do not prophesy to us right things. Speak to us smooth things, prophesy deceits.” Tell us we’re doing great, that we don’t need God, and if you do tell us about God, pretend that he doesn’t have any expectations, that any behavior we indulge he will accept or wink at, and it really doesn’t matter how we should treat each other. (Isaiah 30:10-11)
Things won’t turn out well for us if we confine to the fireplace everything that makes us uncomfortable. Sometimes we need to hear what we don’t want to hear, even if we are the king.

The God Who Sees (Sabbath Thoughts)
There are few things more discouraging than discovering you’re invisible – that your opinions don’t matter, that no one cares how you feel, that nothing you do is acknowledged or valued by anyone around you.
I wonder sometimes if Hagar felt like that. Her son, Ishmael, was not part of God’s plan to make Abraham into a great nation. He was, instead, the product of a lack of faith – an attempt to work out a divine plan through human reasoning.
It wasn’t Ishmael’s fault that he existed. It wasn’t Hagar’s fault, either. She was a handmaid, with precious little control over what happened to her or how she was treated – but that probably came as little consolation to the mother who found herself running away from a harsh, vindictive mistress. It must have been hard not to wonder if that’s all she and her unborn son were in the grand scheme of things:
Disposable. Inconsequential. A regrettable mistake. Invisible.
And then God spoke: “Hagar, Sarai’s maid, where have you come from, and where are you going?” (Genesis 16:8).
Not that He didn’t know. He knew who Hagar was; He knew where she had come from and why. He commanded her to do the hard thing – to “return to your mistress, and submit yourself under her hand” (Genesis 16:9). But He also explained that He knew what Hagar was going through, and that He had a future in store for Ishmael, regardless of how Sarai felt about it.
And Hagar wondered: “Have I also here seen Him who sees me?” (Genesis 16:13).
And she called God El Roi, “You-Are-the-God-Who-Sees” (Genesis 16:13).
The God Who Sees – maybe that moniker feels too obvious. Of course God sees. What kind of deity would He be if He couldn’t? But don’t forget that in the ancient world, gods were so often imagined with human shortcomings. They could be distracted, they could be in the wrong place at the wrong time, they could be asleep – they could simply not care. During the confrontation on Mount Carmel, the prophets of Baal “called on the name of Baal from morning even till noon, saying, ‘O Baal, hear us!’ But there was no voice; no one answered” (1 Kings 18:26). Elijah couldn’t help but mock the false prophets: “Cry aloud, for he is a god. Either he is musing, or he is relieving himself, or he is on a journey, or perhaps he is asleep and must be awakened” (1 Kings 18:27, English Standard Version).
It’s easy to take it for granted that we serve the God who sees. It’s easy to forget how incredibly spectacular that truth is.
Jesus told the disciples, “But the very hairs of your head are all numbered” (Luke 12:7). Not just the disciples’ hairs. Not just yours. God has a perfect working knowledge of every hair on every head the world over.
Imagine knowing that. Imagine knowing the total number of hairs in the entire world at any given moment. Imagine knowing the exact moment when one fell out or a new one grew in. Imagine having all that information in your mind – having the capacity to see that, all at once, all the time, and not have your brain short out from the sheer overload of calculations and running tallies you’d have to keep track of every second of every day.
God does that. And He does it without letting it distract Him from seeing and knowing everything else there is to see and know: “The eyes of the Lord are in every place, keeping watch on the evil and the good” (Proverbs 15:3). Never missing a beat. Never missing a thought or intent or feeling or action. He is not the God Who Sees Some Things, Depending on Where He Is Looking. He is not the God Who Sees Sometimes, When He Is Not Distracted.
He is the God Who Sees – all things, all the time. He saw the handmaiden, running away in fear – and He sees you, too.
That can be a comfort or a terror, and the difference depends on us.
God knows when we’ve been wronged – and when we’re doing wrong.
He knows when we’ve been persecuted – and when we’re persecuting.
He knows when we’ve been deceived – and when we’re deceitful.
He knows when others refuse to forgive us – and when we refuse to forgive others.
He knows, in short, when our hearts are right before Him and when they are not. And when they are not, when we are too stubborn to repent and change, there should be a certain terror in knowing that “there is no creature hidden from His sight, but all things are naked and open to the eyes of Him to whom we must give account” (Hebrews 4:13). But when our hearts are right, we can take comfort knowing that “the eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth, to show Himself strong on behalf of those whose heart is loyal to Him” (2 Chronicles 16:9).
We serve the God Who Sees. He sees you. No matter how small and insignificant you might feel some days, no matter how invisible you might be to everyone around you, the God of the universe sees you. He sees you when your own problems feel a million miles away from anyone’s spotlight. He sees you while entire governments are in the throes of geopolitical upheaval. He sees you as He skillfully guides and weaves the threads of human history to a place where His plan will unfold in the perfect way and at the perfect time.
When you’re surrounded by a million other things that feel more important and more significant than you, God sees you. And loves you. And wants you in His family.
No matter what’s going on in or around your life, you are never invisible to God. You are known and loved by the God who holds the entire universe in His hands.
That’s what it means to serve the God Who Sees.

Why Are We Doing This? (Children of God)
With our Christian calling, we have embarked on an arduous and difficult journey. There are few who follow this Way. Why are we doing this? This is the kind of question that challenges our deepest reasons and motivations for serving God in the way that we do.
Why do we hold fast to the Sabbath, the Holy Days and God’s commands? Why are we trying so diligently to grow in the fruit of God’s Spirit? Why do we refuse to jeopardize our faith when others are more willing to compromise? Why, when it comes to The Truth, are we willing to stand against the whole world? Why, in the face of so many attacks, do we hold fast to the doctrines of Christ that we have believed for so long?
Beloved, when I gave all diligence to write unto you of the common salvation, it was needful for me to write unto you, and exhort you that ye should earnestly contend for the faith which was once delivered unto the saints. (Jude 1:3)
We know our lives are finite – our days are fading away. We are mortal, weak, and often helpless. Yet, we have been called by God to be His Children. He has taught us His Way and has given us His Spirit. Yes, but why are we doing it ? Confirming the souls of the disciples, and exhorting them to continue in the faith, and that we must through much tribulation enter into the kingdom of God. (Acts 14:22)
Let’s reflect on some of the things we experience as Christians. We deny ourselves – and we enthusiastically bring ourselves into submission. We willingly forsake all that we have. We are put out of the congregation and suffer reproach for the name of Jesus Christ. We intensely walk the strait and narrow path to the Kingdom of God. Yes, but why are we doing it?
And he said to them all, If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me. (Luke 9:23)
Strive to enter in at the strait gate: for many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in, and shall not be able. (Luke 13:24)
So likewise, whosoever he be of you that forsaketh not all that he hath, he cannot be my disciple. (Luke 14:33)
And from the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven suffers violence, and the violent take it by force. (Matthew 11:12)
For therefore we both labor and suffer reproach, because we trust in the living God, who is the Savior of all men, especially of those that believe. (1 Timothy 4:10)
Why do we do it? What is our motivation? What compels us to do it? We can cite any number of reasons that might help explain our determination to serve God. Are these the reasons we do it?
● Because God has shown us His way, we know it is the right way.
● God has said that we shall see Him and be like He is.
● We want to become more like God, so that we can be His Children.
● God has promised to bless those who serve Him.
● God has threatened to punish all who disobey Him.
The last reason is interesting because it is precisely the wrong reason, per se. Indeed, God is just and right in promising the lake of fire to all who finally refuse to serve and obey Him, but fear itself will not produce the kind of behavior God expects to see in us. Seeking to save our own skin – does not grow into Godly love. In fact, obeying God out of that kind of fear eventually will destroy our faith and cause us to see God wrongly – in the same way as the faithless servant in Christ’s parable of Luke 19. Notice how the unfaithful servant responds to God.
For I feared you, because thou art an austere man: thou take up that thou laid not down, and reap that thou didst not sow. (Luke 19:21)
Because of the servant’s misplaced fear of his master, his assessment of his master was incorrect – and so he became too afraid to serve him properly. We do the same if our primary reason for serving God is fear that He might destroy us.
Here is another interesting question. Would we love and serve our God – even if there were no reward? Would we be willing to give honor and glory, respect and obedience to our creator if we were only like a beautiful flower that gives it’s all – only to fade away forever? Isn’t our great God worthy of all glory – without His having to extend the promise of a reward to us? Perfect love would dictate that we serve Him without the hope of reward.
Here’s the good part! We know that our God loves us, and He created us in order to share His LIFE with us forever. For this purpose, He trains us to be His children so that He might ultimately bless us. God wants us to succeed, and in many ways, to succeed big. Of course, big by His standards! God sent Christ as a sacrifice, and Christ came willingly, because They both want to share eternity with us!
For it is God who works in you both to will and to do His good pleasure. (Philippians 2:13)
I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly. (John 10:10)
Notice Christ’s attitude toward us, His servants, and brothers and sisters!
And I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; neither shall anyone snatch them out of My hand. My Father, who has given them to Me, is greater than all; and no one is able to snatch them out of My Father’s hand. (John 10:28-29)
We love God, because He loved us first. (1 John 4:19) We serve God because He first served us. He is our creator and savior. We serve God because we want to be His Children! We hold fast to the Father’s Truth because we want to please Him and our Lord, Jesus Christ. We want to be counted among the faithful servants of Jesus Christ when He returns. We love Them because They love us.
We are doing this because we are called now to be a part of that better resurrection with Jesus Christ – the inestimable privilege of being in God’s Family.
And this is the promise that He has promised us eternal life. (1 John 2:25)
Why are we doing this? We do this because we are the only people on earth who do know their creator God and who are able to worship Him in sincerity and truth. As though this were not enough – our Father and Jesus Christ want to share their eternal life with us.
For so an entrance shall be ministered unto you abundantly into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. (2 Peter 1:11)

Move or Die (New Church Lady)
I was watching an episode from the Science Nature Page that showed the connection between physical activity and brain health. The video gave a summary of a medical study that found that people who are inactive, especially if they are unable to do load-bearing exercise, including bed-ridden people and even astronauts on long trips into space, not only lose muscle mass, but their body chemistry is altered at the cellular level and even their nervous system is adversely impacted.
It found that limiting physical activity, even if all other activity was normal, decreases the number of neuro stem cells by 70%. Further, the study showed that using our legs, particularly in weight-bearing exercise, sends signals to the brain that are vital for the production of healthy neural cells, which are essential for the brain and nervous system.
What does this mean to our Christian walk? Of course it reminds us that God didn’t just throw together some dirt to create us. It also supports what we read in Psalms 139:14 [KJV] I will praise thee; for I am fearfully [and] wonderfully made: marvellous [are] thy works; and [that] my soul knoweth right well. (Emphasis mine.)
But that is not my focus today. What I wanted to point out is the spiritual lesson for us believers today: that activity is essential to our spiritual health – especially to our minds and hearts. Or as James put it: But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. [James 1:22 ESV]
Further, I believe that this is not just true from a personal standpoint (each individual believer), but also from an organizational standpoint (whether you meet with 5 other believers or in a church of 100).
Compassion is engaged, love is engaged, mercy is engaged when we help others. Further, I believe our understanding of scripture is enhanced when we put it to use by serving others. I believe this is true when that activity is heartfelt, sympathetic prayer for others, making cards for others, visiting the sick, taking up a donation for the poor, or any other active living of the commandment found in John 15:12 [ESV], where Jesus tells us: This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you.
My message today is that, if you want to grow in grace and knowledge of the truth, serving others is essential. Yes, I am actually proposing that all the study of scripture, the discovering the root of Greek and Hebrew words, or connecting prophecies from the Old Testament to their fulfillment in Jesus’s life and ministry, or understanding the harmony of the Gospels, or memorizing key scriptures will not do as much for your spiritual health as actually doing something to serve another person.
Jesus’s own example is one of activity-based love. He certainly taught the people Bible truths, expanding our understanding of God’s law of love. He also fed them (Mark 6, Luke 9, John 6). He healed them (Matthew 14:14; Luke 6:17, 8:36, 13:14). He blessed their children (Mark 10:14-16). Jesus set an example of being a doer of the word, not just a hearer.
Of course, you do not need a corporation or even a group of friends in order to serve others. This is something each of us can do on our own. Further, I believe that the more our “doing” requires of us – the more it incorporates some form of “bearing the load” of others – the more our spiritual health will be improved by it. You know, “no pain, no gain”, but from a spiritual standpoint.
It is also my belief that the spiritual health of your home Bible study group, independent church or large church corporation is also directly tied to how much serving you do together. When we don’t make frequent efforts, as a group, at serving the poor and needy, not just in the church, but also in the community or around the world, we become more focused on our own struggles, wants and needs. We become more insular and that is not healthy environment for spiritual growth. In fact, I believe this lack of service activity will contribute to the spiritual atrophy – possibly even death – of any person or group.
So, if you are feeling that the interpretation of a key scripture escapes you, or if you feel the scriptures taking on a “ho-hum” place in your mind or heart, or if the sermons/studies in your group seem uninspired, then I suggest the remedy is to get moving. Have a food drive and go to the trouble of taking it to the shelter. Make care kits for the homeless, then actually take the kits around the city and hand them out. Collect blankets for a nursing home and then hand them out to the residents yourself. Mow a widow’s yard. Rock sick babies at a children’s hospital or read stories to the children with cancer.
I believe with all my heart that, when we take the time and make the effort to serve others, the Holy Spirit will be activated and our human spirits will be inspired, our Bible study will be enhanced and we will grow – both as individuals and in our church groups.
But, don’t take my word for it. Do your own experiment – exercise your spiritual muscles, bear the load of another person.
Even if I’m wrong, you will still have done what Jesus called us to do [See Matthew 25:31-46].

They All Saw It (Sabbath Thoughts)
Twelve spies saw the Promised Land. They all agreed that it was something special – a land filled with incredible blessings from God. They all agreed that it was occupied by formidable opponents – giants who made them feel like grasshoppers.
Ten of the spies thought it was a lost cause. The road blocks were too big, too insurmountable. Better to play it safe. Better to turn around and give up. The blessings weren’t worth the obstacles in the way.
Only two of the spies trusted God to be strong enough and dependable enough to give them the victory He had promised them.
They all saw the same blessings. They all saw the same obstacles. You’ve seen them, too. It’s not just about what we see – it’s how we evaluate it. The meaning we assign to the things we see.
Do you trust that God will help you fight the things that make you feel like a grasshopper? Do you believe the blessings are worth the battle?

No One Shall Make Them Afraid (Sabbath Thoughts)
When’s the last time you were afraid?
I’m not talking about feeling nervous or uneasy or a little anxious. I’m talking about fear – genuine fear you felt in a state of real or imagined danger. When I think about fear, my brain tends to default to the threat of physical violence – the danger of being in an environment or situation where I’m likely to experience physical harm.
But fear is bigger than that. You can feel fear at the threat of emotional violence. Or financial disaster. Or relationship conflict. Or being confronted with something that challenges how you view the world. Or… The list goes on.
But what I want to ask you to do today is to think back to the last time something made you truly, genuinely afraid. What was it? When was it? For some of you reading this, that might be a length of time you measure in years. Others of you might measure it in hours.
My point is that the sources (and frequency) of our fears can vary dramatically. I can only imagine that if we all got together and made a list of our collective fears, there would be items on that list that would make some of us laugh in disbelief – while others would shiver in agreement.
But that feeling of fear – of your heart kicking into overdrive, of the bottom falling out of your stomach, of your entire nervous systems switching into a state of fight or flight – of that overwhelming sense of hopelessness and helplessness – that, we’ve each experienced.
The circumstances might change from person to person, but the feeling is universal. I doubt anyone reading this can say they have not at some point in their lives experienced the feeling of fear. Which is why it’s so important to understand what God plans to do about fear.
Fear has been part of the human condition literally since we were evicted from the garden of Eden. Remember what Adam said when God asked him why he was hiding?
“I heard Your voice in the garden, and I was afraid” (Genesis 3:10).
One generation later, after Cain kills Abel and starts to fear that someone else will kill him, he builds the first recorded city (Genesis 4:17).
Here’s a fun fact. The Hebrew word for “city” in that passage (ʿîr, Strong’s #H5892) often refers specifically to a walled city. In other words, Cain probably didn’t just go off and build a community – he likely built a community with a wall.
Ever since humanity stepped off the path God intended for us, fear has been part of the picture. And because of that fear, we do things like hiding from God’s voice. Building walls.
But walls can’t keep out fear, can they? Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel – these stories teach us that a life lived in opposition to God is a life that breeds fear. And even for those of us in God’s Church, dedicated to living God’s way of life – we still live in a world that has spent thousands of years in opposition to God. Thousands of years breeding fear and fearful things. And even though there is a peace that comes from placing ourselves in God’s hands, we’re still human. There are still things in this world that can make us afraid. Fear can still touch our lives.
Micah 4:4 is a classic Feast of Tabernacles scripture. You probably heard it referenced a few times this past week:
“Everyone shall sit under his vine and under his fig tree.”
And that’s where my brain usually stops. It’s a beautiful Millennial scene. Here’s a picture of everyone – everyone – with their own land, their own reliable source of food, their own shelter. Here’s a world where everyone will have their basic human needs taken care of, where no one is overlooked. I love that. It’s beautiful.
But the next part of the verse is important, too:
“And no one shall make them afraid.”
Imagine that. We talk about the New Heaven and the New Earth being a place where there’s no more death, no more sorrow, no more crying, no more pain – and those are wonderful things that we should be excited about – but before that, Micah 4:4 is an important reminder that the Millennium will be a time where you and I get to work with Jesus Christ to usher in a world where there will be no more fear. Where there will be nothing to be afraid of.
For the past 6,000 years or so of human history, God has been enacting a plan to undo the damage that comes from the collective disobedience of the human race – our collective rejection of His perfect way of life.
Part of that damage is fear – the fear that comes from wandering off that perfect path and into a world of negative consequences. Adam didn’t hide from God until he learned to be ashamed of the way God had created him. Cain didn’t have to worry about being killed until he committed the first murder.
This is the world the human race has been stewing in for literal millennia. This is the world you and I are in but not of. But this past week – this precious Feast of Tabernacles God calls us to observe year after year – marks the time when fear, humanity’s constant companion since we left the Garden of Eden, finally becomes obsolete. It marks the time when God intervenes and begins redirecting the whole world from the deluded, self-destructive road it currently follows and back onto the road of peace and prosperity He always intended for it.
One of my favorite prophecies about that future isn’t exactly a glamorous one – maybe not the first passage that comes to mind when we’re talking about how God will transform the world one day – but it’s such a beautiful snapshot of what’s coming:
Thus says the LORD of hosts: ‘Old men and old women shall again sit in the streets of Jerusalem, each one with his staff in his hand because of great age. The streets of the city shall be full of boys and girls playing in its streets. (Zechariah 8:4–5)
To the old men and old women reading this – how many streets do you feel safe sitting in today? To the parents reading this – how many streets do you feel safe letting your children play in today? I have a daughter and two sons. That is the world I want for them. That is the world I wish they could grow up in. The elderly and the young, two historically vulnerable groups of people, spending time in the streets without fear.
And after that snapshot of the Millennium, when we look forward to the New Jerusalem, there’s something special to notice about it. It’s a walled city, too (Revelation 21:12) – but unlike the city that Cain built all those centuries ago, this will be a city whose gates are never shut (Revelation 21:25). This will be a city with nothing to fear, because God dwells there.
That’s not the way things are right now. And that’s why I want to focus on what will happen to this specific emotion of fear. Because I know fear.
I know the fear of making a wrong turn in an unfamiliar town at night and finding yourself in a neighborhood where you don’t feel safe stopping for gas. I know the fear of watching bills you can’t afford to pay pile up while you wonder how on earth you’re going to make it all work.
I know the fear of watching your newborn admitted into an ICU, spending days begging God to intervene because there’s nothing you can do.
And you know fear. You have your own list. Your own experiences. Your own by-products of living in a world that lives in opposition to its Creator.
Family – brothers and sisters – I don’t know about you, but I am ready for that fear to be a thing of the past. I am ready for vines and fig trees and a world of people who can lie down in peace. I am ready for my children to know that world.
The Feast of Tabernacles is a promise, a guarantee, of that future. We don’t know how long it will take to get here, but this past week was a reminder that it is real, it is coming, and it is on the horizon.
I want to end with a prophecy from the book of Isaiah. Isaiah 54:11. God says:
O you afflicted one, tossed with tempest, and not comforted.
Have you ever felt that way? Have you ever felt afflicted? Have you ever felt like you were being tossed around in a tempest? Have you ever been desperate for comfort in a trial you didn’t know how to navigate?
Here’s the promise God makes:
Behold, I will lay your stones with colorful gems, and lay your foundations with sapphires. I will make your pinnacles of rubies, your gates of crystal, and all your walls of precious stones.
That’s beautiful – but not as beautiful as what comes next:
All your children shall be taught by the LORD, and great shall be the peace of your children. In righteousness you shall be established. You shall be far from oppression, for you shall not fear; and from terror, for it shall not come near you. Indeed they shall surely assemble, but not because of Me. Whoever assembles against you shall fall for your sake. “Behold, I have created the blacksmith, who blows the coals in the fire, who brings forth an instrument for his work; and I have created the spoiler to destroy. No weapon formed against you shall prosper, And every tongue which rises against you in judgment, you shall condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the LORD, And their righteousness is from Me,” says the LORD. (Isaiah 54:11-17)

Correct Diagnosis, Wrong Medicine (Morning Companion)
These times are challenging, and it’s easy to see why. Simply fire up your computer or turn on your favorite news channel. They’ll be glad to rattle off everything that’s going on in the world that cranks up our anxiety meters regarding our health, safety, and culture. Wars and rumors of war, high prices, rising crime, political corruption — it’s all there in living color and has been for some time.
Problems are easy to diagnose. When you ache because of poor diet or lifestyle, no one needs to tell you there is something wrong on your insides. But the diagnosis does not mean that the offered remedy is the correct medicine.
The Israelites in Samuel’s day had the diagnosis right. Samuel was for the most part a righteous leader, but his judgement was sometimes suspect. He had appointed his corrupt sons to important positions where they took bribes and perverted justice. Everybody knew it and the elders of the land complained about it. They correctly diagnosed the problem. It was their offered remedy that was the problem: Give us a king to judge us.
Think about this solution. They were upset at Samuel’s nepotism, yet they wanted a hereditary kingship that would change nepotism from a flaw to a feature. Samuel warned them of such dangers and more when an autocratic system is taken to its logical conclusion:
This is what the king who will reign over you will claim as his rights: He will take your sons and make them serve with his chariots and horses, and they will run in front of his chariots. Some he will assign to be commanders of thousands and commanders of fifties, and others to plow his ground and reap his harvest, and still others to make weapons of war and equipment for his chariots. He will take your daughters to be perfumers and cooks and bakers. He will take the best of your fields and vineyards and olive groves and give them to his attendants. He will take a tenth of your grain and of your vintage and give it to his officials and attendants. Your male and female servants and the best of your cattle and donkeys he will take for his own use. He will take a tenth of your flocks, and you yourselves will become his slaves. When that day comes, you will cry out for relief from the king you have chosen, but the Lord will not answer you in that day.
(1 Samuel 8:11-18 NIV)
That warning sounds familiar from where I’m sitting. The medicine the people demanded in response to a correct diagnosis turned out to be worse than the disease. They got a king named Saul, a history of questionable successors, and all the curses that Samuel predicted.
Remember that. When the modern successors of that philosophy offer more sacrifice from you and more control for them, run. Run away as fast as you can.

The Other Verse about Vines and Fig Trees (Sabbath Thoughts)
Mary and I were talking about a beautiful passage in the book of Habakkuk. Usually, when we talk about vines and fig trees, our minds go to the beautiful Millennial scriptures about the future, where “everyone shall sit under his vine and under his fig tree” (Micah 4:4).
Habakkuk talks about vines and fig trees, but it’s probably not the first place we turn when we’re talking about the Feast of Tabernacles. It’s a sobering book about a prophet crying out to God for answers, but never quite receiving the explanation he desperately wants. And then it ends with a hymn. The beautiful passage we were talking about is there at the end of the hymn, and I think it’s particularly relevant for meditating on around this time:
Though the fig tree may not blossom,
Nor fruit be on the vines;
Though the labor of the olive may fail,
And the fields yield no food;
Though the flock may be cut off from the fold,
And there be no herd in the stalls
Yet I will rejoice in the LORD,
I will joy in the God of my salvation.
(Habakkuk 3:17-18)
The festival is a reminder of an incredible future – one so beautiful, so perfect, it’s hard to imagine. But right now, it’s still just a reminder. A promise of what’s coming. And sometimes – sometimes, as excited as we are about the reminder, we’re going to be faced with the reality of the present.
Sometimes the fig trees aren’t going to blossom.
Sometimes there won’t be any fruit on the vines.
Sometimes the festival is going to be hard and demanding and exhausting. Sometimes it’s going to feel more like a trial than a blessing.
What do we do then?
When the imagery doesn’t match up with the reminder, can we still rejoice in the LORD? Can we still joy in the God of our salvation?
It’s not an easy thing to do. But it’s possible. And it’s important. The physical abundance and break from the world we often look forward to at the festival is only part of the picture – and not the most essential part, either. When it’s missing – when God allows Satan to throw a wrench into part or all of our festival – will we give up and call the festival ruined? Or will we work harder to praise God even when things aren’t what we hoped they’d be?
What is the Feast of Tabernacles if not a reminder that this life, as long we live it, is a temporary one filled with temporary things that pale in comparison to the glory that’s coming?
I wish it were true that we could say, “If only I can make it to the feast, everything will be okay.” But what is true is that we can say, “If only I can make it to what the feast pictures, everything will be okay.”
We’ve been called to inherit a kingdom and reign as children of God. Is that not something we can praise God for, regardless of what our vines and fig trees look like in the moment?
I hope, wherever you are, this proves to be your best feast yet. I hope it is filled with wonderful things and wonderful moments and wonderful people. I hope you are able to go your way, eat the fat, drink the sweet, and rejoice before your God during a beautiful and inspiring eight days filled with not one single hardship.
But more than that – if this is a feast where the fig tree doesn’t blossom for you and you can’t find any fruit on the vines – I hope you are still able to find the strength to praise the God who points our attention toward an incredible future.

Our Daily Bread (Sabbath Thoughts)
It would be easier if all we had to do was pray for our weekly bread, wouldn’t it? Or monthly bread. Quarterly bread, even.
But that’s not the instruction Jesus gave us. He said to pray like this:
“Give us this day our daily bread” (Matthew 6:11).
We don’t get to ask for it in batches. We don’t get to say, “Give us this day our daily bread, and could You throw in the next few days as well because I have a lot to do this week and I’m going to be a little too busy to ask for it.”
Daily bread. When it comes time to consider how often we come to God in prayer, we should also consider how long we’d enjoy going without food.
It’s so easy for me to forget to ask God to supply my needs for the day. That’s why I’m writing this. I struggle to remember it. Oh, it’s easy to remember my immediate, pressing needs – the problems I’m actively stressing about – but my fridge already has food in it. My prayer tonight isn’t going to make the ingredients for breakfast appear in my pantry tomorrow.
At least, not directly. And that’s the whole point of it, I think.
Praying for our daily bread forces us to stop and reflect on where our daily bread comes from. The food in your fridge – that’s a blessing. Where did it come from? Why is it there? And more to the point, who has the power to ensure more of it shows up tomorrow – and the day after, and the day after? On the brink of entering the Promised Land, Moses warned Israel:
“Beware that you do not forget the LORD your God by not keeping His commandments, His judgments, and His statutes which I command you today, lest – when you have eaten and are full, and have built beautiful houses and dwell in them; and when your herds and your flocks multiply, and your silver and your gold are multiplied, and all that you have is multiplied; when your heart is lifted up, and you forget the LORD your God who brought you out of the land of Egypt, from the house of bondage; who led you through that great and terrible wilderness, in which were fiery serpents and scorpions and thirsty land where there was no water; who brought water for you out of the flinty rock; who fed you in the wilderness with manna, which your fathers did not know, that He might humble you and that He might test you, to do you good in the end – then you say in your heart, ‘My power and the might of my hand have gained me this wealth.’” (Deuteronomy 8:11-17)
That’s the natural way of it when things start going well. But they don’t even have to be going extraordinarily well. I don’t know about you, but over the past couple years, my silver and gold have not been multiplying. I don’t have flocks. My house has cracks in it. I had to have a main waste line replaced and a transmission rebuilt. Things keep breaking, prices keep rising. I’m playing a constant game of chicken with my credit limit. (I’d be remiss if I didn’t add that, all that aside, God has still blessed us in countless ways, including through friends and family.) I guess the point I’m trying to make is, my heart is not particularly at risk of being lifted up in pride at my non-existent wealth.
Most of you are probably in a pretty similar boat. And yet, I find there are still ridiculous things I can think in my heart. “My cash and my job that I work have given me the ability to pay for these groceries.” Even trying to claw our way out of debt, I can still look at our household needs in terms of what I need to do, what I need to make happen. But it’s not true.
“And you shall remember the LORD your God, for it is He who gives you power to get wealth” (Deuteronomy 8:18).
The things we’re able to accomplish, the blessings we have, the food that’s in our fridge – where does the power to make it all happen come from? Not us.
It comes from the One who provides us with our daily bread. It comes from the One we need to be talking regularly to about our daily bread.
Christ chewed the Laodiceans out for believing themselves to be wealthy and in need of nothing when in fact they were “wretched, miserable, poor, blind, and naked” (Revelation 3:17).
It’s dangerous to view that as an attitude we can only fall into with excessive physical wealth – because at its core, it’s an attitude that comes from forgetting where the good things in life come from. Even the good things we need but don’t have yet.
Agur the son of Jakeh wrote:
“Give me neither poverty nor riches. Feed me with the food allotted to me;
Lest I be full and deny You, And say, ‘Who is the LORD?’ Or lest I be poor and steal, And profane the name of my God.” (Proverbs 30:8-9)
Agur recognized that there was a sweet spot in having only “the food allotted to me.” Too much, and we can forget where it came from. Too little, and we can get angry at God for not providing it. It’s possible to have wealth or poverty and still follow God, but Agur saw that the extremes offered far more opportunities to stumble – to forget about his daily bread and where it came from.
I’m ashamed of all the things in my life I take for granted – that I don’t recognize as blessings from God. I’m ashamed of how often I forget to ask God for the daily bread I know I need in my life – physical provisions, yes, but even more than that, the far more important spiritual provisions I need to survive as a follower of Christ.
“It is written, ‘Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God’” (Matthew 4:4).
Maybe you’re already better at this than I am. I hope so! But I know it’s something I want to get better at doing. I need my daily bread – physical and spiritual – and my power and the might of my hand aren’t strong enough to provide them for me. Only God can do that.
In taking the time each day to intentionally ask God for the things we know only He can provide (whether they’re already sitting in our fridge or not) we can learn to better appreciate the daily bread He provides us – today and every day.

Stop Your Whining ~ God (Sabbath Meditations)
We Christians do a lot of whining.
As I write this, understand that I have one finger pointing out and three pointing back at me. We whine to God about so many things big and little.
It’s not as if we whine like spoiled little children. “Wahhh, that’s not fair!” “Wahhh, I want that toy! Give me that toy!” We know that wouldn’t fly with God. So, our whining is more refined, more … spiritual. “Please most powerful high benevolent God …” or “Oh merciful Father, who knows all of our needs and answers all of our prayers, please …” and then we proceed to pour out our litany of requests and petitions.
It’s not that asking God to provide for us is a bad thing. If it were, we wouldn’t be instructed to pray, “Give us this day our daily bread.” God wants His children to come to Him with their physical needs and concerns. But, there is a thin line between asking and whining.
“God, why do you allow our family to keep struggling financially?” “Why did you let my children abandon their faith?” “Why can’t you give me the perfect church to attend?” “Why can’t you change my husband or my wife?” In short, “Wahhh … I follow you, why aren’t you blessing me?”
When we question God, aren’t we really questioning whether He loves us? After all, if He really loved us, He would take care of all of the problems in our lives, wouldn’t He? Thus, we measure whether God really loves us by how He provides for our well being. God becomes a kind of magic “genie in a bottle.” If we rub that magic bottle by doing all the right things and obeying in every way, God will fulfill all our heart’s desires. We get so focused on all the things we don’t have that we forget the one huge thing we do.
The children of Israel spent a lot of time questioning God’s love. From the day they were delivered from Egypt, their voices were a constant stream of whining and complaining. It started with their sojourn in the wilderness and didn’t let up, even after entering the promised land.
God addresses their whining in Malachi 1:1-3, “The burden of the word of the LORD to Israel by Malachi. I have loved you, says the LORD. Yet you say, wherein have You loved us? Was not Esau Jacob’s brother? says the LORD: yet I loved Jacob, and I hated Esau, and laid his mountains and his heritage waste for the dragons of the wilderness.”
Notice how God cuts to the chase here. He doesn’t waste time addressing their litany of complaints and unmet requests. He gets to the heart of it. “You don’t think I love you?! For crying out loud, I chose you! I set My name on you! You are blessed above all the nations. Isn’t that enough?!”
In God’s words to Israel there is a powerful, perspective changer for you and me.
In John 3:16 we read, “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”
Isn’t that amazing! Doesn’t that blow your mind? God, the Creator and Sustainer of the universe, loves you so much that He sent His Son to die on a cross for you. He made a way for those He would call to become part of His Family. He chose you. He set His name on you. If you never receive one more thing from God in this life, isn’t that enough?
Apparently Paul thought so. In Philippians 4:11-12 Paul writes, “Not that I speak in respect of want: for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content. I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound: every where and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need.”
It’s not that Paul didn’t petition God to provide for his physical and emotional needs. He did. But regardless of the outcome of those requests, he didn’t question God’s love for Him. He knew he had plenty for which to be thankful and in that knowledge, he was content.
Notice it says that Paul learned these things. I wouldn’t go so far as to say Paul was a whiner. But it does seem that he didn’t always have the right perspective. It’s possible, that at one time, Paul had to learn to see beyond his physical condition, his physical needs and wants, to appreciate the one amazing gift he did possess.
In II Corinthians 12:7-9 Paul says, “And lest I should be exalted above measure through the abundance of the revelations, there was given to me a thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I should be exalted above measure. For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me. And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”
God used this situation, only one of many in Paul’s life, to teach Him to be content in the grace that God had provided. God had redeemed Him. God had chosen Paul according to His purpose. God said, “Paul, if you get nothing else from Me, my grace should be enough.”
It’s that lesson that allowed Paul to declare in Romans 8:18, “For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.”
I find it encouraging to think that if Paul, a man mightily used by God, can learn to see beyond today to the awesomeness of tomorrow and let that hope be sufficient to sustain, strengthen and drive Him, then maybe there is hope for this whiner. Maybe I can stop treating God like a genie in a bottle and truly give thanks for the awesome grace that I have been given through the loving gift of His Son. And maybe I can truly come to the place where, from my heart, I can say, “your grace is sufficient for me.” It is enough.

Dangerous Beatitudes (Morning Companion)
What would you give to have a neighbor who lives a life of meekness and mercy, humility and honor? What if he is a justice-seeking warrior for peace, pure in heart, and poor in spirit? What if he stands boldly for doing what is right and does it with a humble servant’s heart?
This sounds like someone I would love to have living next door to me.
Jesus begins his most famous sermon, the Sermon on the Mount, telling us to be that kind of neighbor (Matthew 5:1-10)
He says we are to be poor in spirit.
To mourn with those who mourn.
He says to be meek.
To hunger and thirst for righteousness.
To be humble, pure of heart, and a peacemaker.
Then he seasons this with something that seems so out of context for those who live such admirable lives:
Blessed are you when they revile and persecute you, and say all manner of evil against you falsely for my sake. Rejoice and be exceedingly glad, for great is your reward in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you. (Matthew 5:11-12)
Is Jesus saying that living a godly life in this world is downright dangerous? Try living such a life and see what happens.
Try humility in a world based on pride.
Try meekness in a system that rewards arrogance.
Try being a peacemaker when conflict is the currency of modern politics.
Try proclaiming righteousness in a society that celebrates deviancy.
Try being pure of heart in a culture bent on the narcissistic.
When Jesus told Pilate that his kingdom is not of this world, when he told his disciples to count the cost of discipleship, when he counsels that following him means taking up a cross, when he said these things, he meant every single word of it.
Commit to a life as taught by the Savior, and prepare for a life of challenges.

The Wilderness Road (Sabbath Thoughts)
I was thinking this morning about the second generation of Israelites who came out of Egypt. I wonder if they ever resented their parents’ generation for failing to go up into Canaan when they had the chance. Sure, they were going to get into the Promised Land eventually, but Israel’s needless panic at the border turned a one-and-a-half-year trip into a 40-year one. It wasn’t the younger generation’s fault, but they were the ones saddled with an extra 38 and a half years of travel time because of choices they didn’t make.
Funny. Didn’t think about it until just now, but I’ve been baptized for about half that amount of time. Life is so much like that wilderness trek, isn’t it?
We’re wandering through a world that’s not what it’s supposed to be – not what it could have been if the people before us had made better decisions. In the opening pages of the Bible, two people eat the fruit they were never supposed to touch, and then there’s a series of about 4,000 years’ worth of bad decisions from people and nations. And here we are, stewing in the consequences. On our way to somewhere better, but stuck in a place we never asked to be. Makes it hard not to be bitter. Or frustrated. Frustrated at all the trials – and even inconveniences of this life. We could have been somewhere better.
It’s the wrong attitude. If nothing else, it doesn’t make the trip itself very pleasant – grumbling and sputtering about what could have been. The what-ifs aren’t all that relevant. You are where you are – and more importantly, you’re going where you’re going. A lot of you have been in the desert a lot longer than I have. Even longer than the Israelites themselves. I’m sure you had things you could have grumbled about – have grumbled about – but what about the blessings? There’s a lot of those. Pretty easy to focus on the blessings we’re moving toward and forget the ones that are around us right now.
The Israelites had food and water provided consistently by God Himself (Deuteronomy 8:3). For four decades, their clothes didn’t wear out and their feet didn’t swell up (Deuteronomy 8:4). They traveled with the very presence of God, and that presence shielded them from the heat of the sun and illuminated their path in the darkness, guiding and protecting them along their journey (Exodus 13:21-22; Numbers 14:14; Deuteronomy 1:33; Psalm 105:39). They had the perfect law of God establishing the boundaries of justice and equity.
Incredible blessings. Maybe a little easier to overlook every time you have to pull down and set up your tent, or march from one patch of wilderness to another. Maybe a little easier to take for granted after the 12,480th time you head outside your tent to gather your omer of manna for the day.
There’s a beautiful Millennial prophecy in Isaiah about a day when “the wilderness and the wasteland shall be glad … and the desert shall rejoice and blossom as the rose” (Isaiah 35:1).
(That’s the translation I’m used to, but the Hebrew there seems to be referring to a crocus, not a rose. Doesn’t quite roll off the tongue the same way, but we’re still talking about a breathtaking scene.)
That’s a day I look forward to seeing literally fulfilled. But I think right now, today, as we travel through the wilderness and wasteland of this world – as we pitch our tents and take them down, as we daily gather up the provisions that God provides for us – there are times when God fulfills that passage for us on a smaller scale.
When’s the last time you noticed the desert around you blossoming? When’s the last time God poured out heaven’s blessings on you to the point there wasn’t “room enough to receive it” (Malachi 3:10)? When’s the last time something truly beautiful gave you pause in your travels? It’s easy to resent being in this desert, this wilderness. It’s easy to be frustrated that we’re not at the destination yet – that the actions of others throughout history have moved us farther from that destination than we’d like. But the truth is that, no matter how long it’s been since we committed to this journey, we’re traveling with the presence of God, not just around us, but within us – transforming us a little more with each step we take.
I want to get where we’re going, too. I want to be somewhere my car doesn’t break down, where I don’t have to worry about growing financial stresses, where my kids can play safely outside, where the governmental structure is filled with servants instead of self-servants, where people don’t die early or senselessly, where relationships are repaired instead of abandoned, and where people instinctively consider the needs of those around them.
The Promised Land is what makes the journey worth it. It’s hard to be reminded that we’re here and not there. Hard to think about all the steps behind us and ahead of us. But the wilderness road is filled with blessings, too. The fact that there even is a road for us to take is a blessing all in itself. And sometimes … Sometimes it’s worth stopping to smell the crocuses.

The Second Best Time to Plant a Tree (Sabbath Thoughts)
To the people of Pompeii, Vesuvius erupted without warning. In the span of moments, the infamous volcano filled the air with thick clouds of ash, tephra, and other pyroclastic material. Temperatures soared, darkness and sulfuric fumes swallowed the surrounding areas, and chaos descended from the skies. Entire settlements were obliterated. One eyewitness wrote that, even from a distance, “I believed that I was perishing with the world, and the world with me.”
But volcanoes don’t just explode. The residents of Pompeii were witnessing the end of a long and gradual process that had begun days or even years earlier. During that time, magma from deep within the earth rose up within Vesuvius, releasing gasses that slowly increased the internal pressure of the mountain, building and building until, like an aerosol can in a bonfire, the rock walls gave way to an unstoppable wave of destruction and death.
The destruction of Pompeii, in other words, was a long time coming. As much as Vesuvius appeared to have erupted on the spur of the moment, volcanoes don’t work that way. There’s a process required – a slow and deliberate chain of events – before an eruption is even a possibility.
Time. In an always-on, 24/7, free-two-day-shipping culture, time is the overlooked ingredient. Order a burger at the drive-thru and it’s ready for you by the time you reach the window. Order a book from the other side of the country and, for a nominal fee, you can have it airlifted to your front door by tomorrow, guaranteed. Upload your pictures to the store of your choice, and you can pick up the prints within the hour. That’s incredible. We’ve designed a world where we can get anything we like, as quickly as we like – often by yesterday at the latest.
But nothing is truly instant. Not really. That burger you ordered was made a while ago in a batch of dozens or even hundreds, just in case someone like you wanted one. That book you ordered was manufactured on costly equipment that took years to develop and design, and then it was shipped through a delivery system that has been evolving and improving for centuries. And you uploaded your pictures through the Internet, which is an increasingly complex jungle of technological wonders, each painstakingly designed to communicate with the next, ending with an industrial printer programmed to interpret the incomprehensible stream of zeros and ones you just fed it and spit out a corresponding picture.
It feels instant, but it’s not. Every step in every one of those processes took years and years of research and development before it was ready for you to use on a whim. Like a volcano, this technological eruption we’re experiencing could never have happened without all the behind-the-scenes legwork that made it possible.
In the parable of the ten virgins (Matthew 25:1-13), everyone fell asleep. That wasn’t what set the wise apart from the foolish – no, the real distinction between the two groups was their grasp of time. When the cry went out at midnight to go and meet the bridegroom, only five virgins had their lamps full of oil – that is, full of God’s Holy Spirit. The other five were running low.
All ten had lamps. All ten understood that the lamps required oil to function properly. All ten knew these lamps were necessary and important, but – and here’s the key distinction – only five had taken the time to actually fill them. The other five attempted to squeak by with what little they had, only to discover at the critical moment that what they had wasn’t enough (Matthew 25:8).
Then comes the tragedy. Because they lacked the oil they needed – and because the wise couldn’t afford to spare their own supplies, “lest there should not be enough for us and you” (Matthew 25:9) – the five foolish virgins had no choice but to go to the marketplace and get more. By the time they returned, the bridegroom had returned and the door was shut (Matthew 25:10). The five foolish virgins cried out, “Lord, Lord, open to us!” only to be met with the bridegroom’s chilling response from the other side of the door: “Assuredly, I say to you, I do not know you” (Matthew 25:11-12).
Some things require time. The degree to which we want or need them in a particular moment is completely irrelevant. These things do not come with “buy it now” or “one day shipping” options. They can only be attained through weeks, years, or even decades of effort and unceasing commitment.
The Holy Spirit is one of those things. We receive it as a gift at baptism – and all ten virgins had at least some oil in their lamps – but what happens afterward depends on us. We don’t just naturally interface with the limitless power of God, “the carnal mind is enmity against God” (Romans 8:7). Tapping into the mind of God requires a lifetime of effort on our part – a lifetime of praying, of studying, of fasting, of meditating, and of spending time with our brethren. There are no shortcuts to any of these steps, which is why the five foolish virgins ran into trouble. When the bridegroom returned, the foolish virgins were hoping to acquire in a single moment something that had taken the wise virgins years to cultivate.
God’s Holy Spirit doesn’t work that way. You can’t just borrow it from someone else when you need it. When the bridegroom returns – when Jesus Christ descends from the heavens and gathers His brethren – your lamp will either be full or it won’t. In that moment, there will be no shortcuts, no easy fixes, no “buy it now” button. Either you put in the work or you didn’t. Either you nurtured your connection with God’s Spirit or you let it dwindle. Either you’re on the right side of the door or you’re not.
There’s an old Chinese proverb that says, “The best time to plant a tree is twenty years ago. The second best time is now.”
Volcanoes don’t just explode. Twenty-year-old trees don’t just appear. And your lamp won’t just “get full.” The bridegroom is coming, and a strong connection with the Holy Spirit of God is not a last-minute acquisition.
I’d love to say it’s never too late to start, but that’s simply not true. That’s the whole point. One day, it will be too late. The best time to begin filling your lamp was twenty years ago. The second best time is now.

Brother vs Brother (New Church Lady)
I was sharing coffee with my younger sister on her porch and chatting about church stuff. She mentioned that she had a hard time with a previous church pastor, because he had lived such a perfect life. He’d grown up a believer, never strayed from the faith, married in the faith, was still married to that woman of faith and served side-by-side with his wife in a Dallas-area mega church. She did not think this pastor had ever sinned. She just wondered how someone whose life was always focused on obedience could ever connect to “real” sinners who had made some painful, life-wrecking mistakes.
I was thinking two things: I wish someone would complain that I was too unstained by sin to relate to normal folks, and this reminds me of the non-prodigal brother of Luke 15:11-32.
I understand where my sister is coming from – you need to feel a connection to your church teachers and leaders. You need to know that they can feel your pain, understand your flaws, and sympathize with your temptations. A former prodigal son can likely say, “I made the same mistakes you did and worse.”
Paul was such a man. Listen to his testimony in his own words.
Acts 26:9-18 [ESV] “I myself was convinced that I ought to do many things in opposing the name of Jesus of Nazareth. And I did so in Jerusalem. I not only locked up many of the saints in prison after receiving authority from the chief priests but, when they were put to death, I cast my vote against them. And I punished them often in all the synagogues and tried to make them blaspheme, and in raging fury against them I persecuted them even to foreign cities. “In this connection I journeyed to Damascus with the authority and commission of the chief priests. At midday, O king, I saw on the way a light from heaven, brighter than the sun, that shone around me and those who journeyed with me. And when we had all fallen to the ground, I heard a voice saying to me in the Hebrew language, ‘Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me? It is hard for you to kick against the goads.’ And I said, ‘Who are you, Lord?’ And the Lord said, ‘I am Jesus whom you are persecuting. But rise and stand upon your feet, for I have appeared to you for this purpose, to appoint you as a servant and witness to the things in which you have seen me and to those in which I will appear to you, delivering you from your people and from the Gentiles – to whom I am sending you to open their eyes, so that they may turn from darkness to light and from the power of Satan to God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me.’
We need the Saul/Pauls of this world for their testimonies of how Jesus can turn a life 180° from its previous path and redeem even the most sordid histories, transforming them into an entirely new story and future.
Recall these words: “I once was lost, but now am found; was blind but now I see.” Grace is never more amazing than when it turns a wretched sinner into a bullhorn for salvation through Jesus.
But the truth is that the church needs both brothers – the prodigal brother and the faithful brother. And, while those life-long faithful followers might not have a dramatic story to tell, I still believe they can minister to those whose lives were once prodigal. It just takes godly love and mercy toward those who did not have the benefit of a life of obedience. A true minister, that is a servant of the people, will have those qualities toward all of his congregants.
Timothy was raised as a second generation believer. In 2 Timothy 1:5 [ESV] we read: I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that dwelt first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, dwells in you as well.
David Guzik, in his study guide/commentary on 2 Timothy 1 says this: “Timothy’s mother and grandmother were believers, but his father was not (at least not at first). In the Roman world, fathers had absolute authority over the family, and since Timothy’s father was not a Christian, his home situation was less than ideal (though not necessarily terrible). But his mother and grandmother either led him to Jesus or grounded him in the faith. God wants to use parents and grandparents to pass on an eternal legacy to their children and grandchildren.” {emphasis mine}
You see, first generation believers may be comforted by a preacher whose life wasn’t always aligned with Jesus and who has made that dramatic change to obedience. But we all also need to believe that the non-prodigal life is possible for the second generation believers – our children. Because, while a first generation believer might feel a special connection to a pastor who had a dramatic story of repentance to tell, I don’t believe there is a parent alive who, having come to repentance and change themselves, still hopes their child will go through the trauma of a prodigal life.
No, we all want our children to learn from our mistakes, and from our teachings, that life is better when lived in alignment with God’s will from day one until their last breath. We all hope our children will be spared the guilt and grief that comes from living a life like the prodigal brother.
The church needs the Paul and the prodigal son stories so that we have hope that a lost, desperate, sin-filled life can be turned around. The church needs the faithful brother and the Timothy stories so that we can have hope that a life of obedience – of good, godly choices, of rejecting temptation and living faithfully – even in this sin-sick world – is possible. These faithful children we have raised will more likely feel a connection to someone who has also grown up in the faith and lived a life of faithfulness.
We can and should learn from both the prodigal brother and the faithful brother. As you read that story in Luke 15, please see that God has a place for the lessons from the lives of both brothers – and for you, whichever brother’s story is more aligned with the history of your life.

Lessons from a Bradford Pear (Sabbath Thoughts)
If you ever visit the south-eastern United States, during your travels you’ll come across little old country stores, herds of livestock, sprawling acres of land, and front yards proudly displaying a beautiful little tree.
The first thing you’ll notice about this tree is its shape. While the trees around it might grow wild and untrimmed, this particular tree looks stately and immaculate in its appearance. It heralds the springtime with a chorus of beautiful white flowers, and in the fall its tear-drop frame takes on the visage of fire with leaves of crimson, yellow, and orange. The tree itself reaches maturity in no time at all, and so for very little investment in time, money, or effort, homeowners can have themselves a beautiful ornamental tree as a showpiece for their yard. It is the Bradford pear, and it is a horrible, terrible mistake.
The Bradford pear is a specific cultivar of the Pyrus calleryana, and if that makes no sense to you, don’t worry – I had to look up half of those words myself when I was researching the tree. What it means, in layman’s terms, is that someone took a Callery pear tree (native to China and Vietnam) and kept selectively breeding it until he got a result he liked. That result was the Bradford pear, and beginning in 1963, it was marketed for two decades as one of America’s top ornamental trees. Unfortunately, those who sung the Bradford’s praises did so before learning what the tree would mature into. The promising adolescent cultivar produced beautiful foliage, showed a noteworthy resilience against disease, grew at remarkable pace, and was tolerant of poor soil and even pollution. It was everything anyone could ever want in an ornamental tree and then some, and customers snatched it up. Those first customers (and many more to follow) would learn the hard way that the Bradford pear cultivar came hardwired with a serious genetic defect: most of its main limbs branch out from the same point on the trunk. As the tree grows in height and stature, those same limbs begin to choke each other – each one requiring more and more space, but finding less and less. With the trunk under this stress and the limbs already so weakly attached, even a mild windstorm can easily knock off several branches of the tree, if not split the entire thing in half. The end result is a disfigured tree and a messy yard – and with Bradfords, such a disaster is not a question of “if,” but “when.” Author Steve Bender notes, “This unfixable quirk effectively reduces the useful life of a Bradford pear to about 20 years.” Despite its impressive appearance, the Bradford pear is genetically doomed to fall to pieces as soon as it faces any real strain.
It’s also worth noting that, although the Bradford is a member of the pear family, it doesn’t actually produce fruit – at least, not the kind you’d expect. The Callery pear is about the size of a marble and has all the edibility of a piece of wood, which is not a characteristic people tend to look for in a snack. In fact, the only thing these fruits tend to be good for is producing more trees like the one they came from.
There’s a passage in the Bible that describes God’s followers in terms of a tree.
A psalmist was inspired to write:
“Those who are planted in the house of the Lord
Shall flourish in the courts of our God.
They shall still bear fruit in old age;
They shall be fresh and flourishing,
To declare that the Lord is upright;
He is my rock, and there is no unrighteousness in Him.”
(Psalm 92:12-15)
That description hardly fits the Bradford pear. Flourishing in old age? A Bradford is lucky if it makes it to old age at all; that it should make it there flourishing and bearing fruit is almost too much to ask of the poor thing. It’s a flimsy showpiece that has little going for it besides appearance – certainly not the kind of tree the psalmist was speaking of in these verses.
There’s probably a reason that, among the pages of the Bible, you won’t find any references to the Pyrus calleryana. You will find, however, more than a couple mentions of the Olea europaea – known more commonly as the olive tree. The olive tree is the polar opposite of the Bradford pear. While the Bradford opts for a flashy appearance, the olive tree tends to go for the “gnarled” look. (There’s a reason you don’t usually hear olive trees described as “immaculate.”) The Bradford has a useful life of maybe 20 years; the olive tree can outlast entire civilizations. The Bradford’s fruit is essentially useless to anyone but itself; the olive is edible on its own and is also used in creating olive oil, one of the world’s more valued (and expensive!) resources.

Do you want to be made well? (Sabbath Thoughts)
The pool of Bethesda was a magnet for the sick and the infirm of Jerusalem. A great and pitiful multitude lay sprawled out across its five covered porches, each of them looking for a miracle.
They were in the right place. Everyone knew Bethesda’s pool was the place to go for a miracle. On a regular basis, an angel would enter the water and stir it up (note: some manuscripts differ on this part of the story), and the first person to enter the pool would be healed. Just like that. All you had to do was be first.
But being first wasn’t easy. The cards were already stacked against you: a veritable host of the sick, the blind, the lame, and the paralyzed all wanted the same thing you did, and if you were a man who had been without the use of his legs for 38 years, the odds were simply not in your favor – unless, of course, the Son of God happens to walk up and speak with you.
That’s exactly what happened to one man during the ministry of Jesus Christ. Why this particular man? I don’t know. We’re not told. But Jesus, in His infinite wisdom and understanding, singled this one man out of an entire multitude of the sick and mangled and then asked him a question:
“Do you want to be made well?”
For 38 years this man had been unable to walk, and Jesus asks him if he wants to be made well. Do you want to be made well? Does the sun rise in the east? Does gravity pull us back down to earth? What kind of question is that?
I don’t claim to know the mind of Christ in that moment, but I do know this: Jesus never healed the same way twice – not in the recorded gospels, at least. Every time we see Jesus perform a miracle, the procedure is a little different. I suppose He could have adopted some sort of trademarked move – the wave of a hand, a few important-sounding words, some elaborate ritual – but the fact that each healing was unique pointed back to the fact that God was the one doing the healing, not some magical concoction or mysterious phrase. The only thing all these healings had in common was Jesus Christ Himself.
More than that, the healings performed by Jesus all convey something deeper than the healing itself. They’re there to teach us something. When Christ healed a leper, Luke made sure to include in his account that Jesus “put out His hand and touched him” before healing him (Luke 5:13). Jesus didn’t need to do that. He could have stood at a distance and healed the man just as effectively, but Christ touched him. Lepers were untouchables, pariahs whose disease forced them to remain quarantined from the rest of civilization. In reaching out and touching that leper, Jesus revealed His deep compassion for a man who had likely been bereft of human contact for quite some time – and, by extension, His deep compassion for all those who need healing.
But what about this man at the pool of Bethesda? What made Christ ask what He did?
The gospel account tells us that from the moment Jesus saw the man lying near the pool, He “knew that he already had been in that condition a long time” (John 5:6). He knew. He knew how long the man had been plagued with this disease. He knew the man was at the pool where people went when they needed healing. He knew the man was looking for a miracle.
And yet He still asked, “Do you want to be made well?”
If you look carefully, there’s actually another question buried within in the one Jesus asked: “Are you comfortable being broken?”
Being healed would change everything about this man’s life. It would change how he got up in the morning and it would change why he got up in the morning. Christ was asking a legitimate question: “Is this what you want? I can make you well, but are you ready for your life to change on a fundamental level?”
All Scripture is given for a reason. As Paul said to Timothy, it is “given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, thoroughly equipped for every good work” (2 Timothy 3:16).
So why was this healing – and, more specifically, Christ’s question – recorded for us? I think because Jesus is asking all of us that same question.
Baptism isn’t the end of the journey. It’s a step. That journey starts with repentance and continues on until perfection, and as Christians we’re all somewhere along that continuum.
Do you want to be made well? Are you comfortable being broken?
Because it can happen. I’d wager it has happened to each and every one of us. It’s a human tendency to stop at “good enough” – better than we were, but not quite where we’d intended to be. Are you there yet? Are you where you wanted to be? Are you where God wants you to be?
We can get so used to the way things are that the way things could be or the way things should be starts to scare us. Deep down, in the hidden parts of your heart and mind that only you and God can see, do you want to be made well?
Healing means changing. It’s a blessing, but it’s also a responsibility.
“To whom much is given, from him much will be required” (Luke 12:48).
When God heals us spiritually, He makes us capable of doing more. Of being more. Healing comes with the responsibility of putting that brand new potential to use.
Jesus told the man at Bethesda to take up his bed and walk, and the man did. Thirty-eight years of infirmity and atrophy, reversed in a single moment. But the blessing comes with a warning: “Sin no more, lest a worse thing come upon you” (John 5:14). The gift of walking physically came with the responsibility of walking spiritually.
How long has it been since God gave you the use of your legs? How long has it been since He led you to the straight and narrow path and pointed you toward salvation? How far have you come in that time?
Probably not as far as you’d like. I know I haven’t. I can see the path stretching on before me, and behind me I can see all the obstacles that have slowed me down – many of them of my own devising. Jesus wasn’t exaggerating when He said that the road we’re walking is narrow and difficult. But He also wasn’t exaggerating when He said it was worth walking – that at the end of that journey is a crown and a future worth striving toward.
Do you want to be made well? Then take up your bed and walk. There’s a long road ahead.

For Such a Time as This (Morning Companion)
Religious folks over the millennia have often felt the need to separate themselves from the world and its foibles, whether it be to hold up in a monastery, to form separate communities, or even to trek across mountains, prairie, and ocean for a completely new start in an untamed land.
I understand the sentiment. I confess to having such thoughts in my melancholy moments. After being bombarded with several days worth of distressing news stories, I have blurted out more than once a desire to move to Mars or other such climes, and while from time to time I have changed my fantasy destination, the desire to tell the world where to get off is a very real one.
In 1527 the plague inflicted the German city of Wittenberg. Wittenberg is otherwise famous as the site where Martin Luther nailed his 95 Theses on the church door. Luther was in the city at the time of this plague while many of the residents were leaving the city for healthier locations. The question naturally arose, what is the duty of the Christian in such a time as this?
Luther gave his answer in his treatise, Whether One May Flee From a Deadly Plague. Wrote Luther, “This I know, that if it were Christ or his mother who were laid low by illness everybody would be so solicitous and would gladly become a servant or helper. Everyone would want to be bold or fearless; nobody would flee but everyone would come running … If you wish to serve Christ and to wait on him, very well; you have a sick neighbor close at hand. Go to him and serve him, and you will surely find Christ in him.”
Martin Luther was saying what many Christian teachers have said for many years: It’s time for the church to be the church. This is an ailing world, and times such as this require a cadre of committed people who have their wits about them and are motivated by nothing less than a willingness to serve.
The world is hurting and it needs us. Perhaps, as with Esther, we have been brought to the kingdom for such a time as this.

Zero-Sum Game (Sabbath Thoughts)
In the zero-sum game, I can’t win unless you lose. I can’t do better unless you do worse.
Lots of things in life are zero-sum. Chess. Football games. Dividing an inheritance. Grabbing the last parking spot in a crowded lot. In all of these examples, one person’s gain means another person’s loss.
Our calling is not zero-sum. Not even close.
Paul says, “Do you not know that those who run in a race all run, but one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may obtain it” (1 Corinthians 9:24), but he’s not talking about outrunning the people you sit beside every week at services. You don’t get a prize for crossing the finish line before them; you don’t get extra points by doing better than them.
Your race is against your own human nature, your performance is measured only against God’s perfect standards, and you win by finishing. Not before someone else, not better than someone else. Just finishing.
I don’t think most of us look at our calling that way. I think most of us understand our mission isn’t to out-Christian our brethren. So here’s a question: If we’re not being measured against each other, what do we stand to lose by supporting and strengthening each other as we complete our races?
And another question: What do we stand to gain?
“Therefore strengthen the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be dislocated, but rather be healed” (Hebrews 12:12-13).
The whole race changes when it stops being about us finishing and starts being about everyone finishing.

Who Decides Your Rights? (Morning Companion)
My beliefs would have received no more welcome in the Massachusetts of 1640 than they do in the Massachusetts of today. The Puritans of 1640 were a moralistic crew who had little tolerance for dissent unless it was their brand of dissent.
This hardy band was forced from England because of their dissenting ways, but once they established their own hegemony they forced all who would not conform to leave the colony. Roger Williams, Anne Hutchinson, the Seventh Day Baptists – all sought refuge in a small colony called Rhode Island in a quest for religious liberty.
Not long ago I was engaged in an interesting discussion on the internet regarding the concept of the role of religion in American history. Was the United States ever really a Christian nation? It became apparent to me that the real concern among the secularists goes straight back to the experiment at Massachusetts Bay where an attempt to bring a theocracy to the American continent resulted in inflexible intolerance and loss of liberty. Whereas some of us may view the term “Christian Nation” as generic shorthand for a kind of syncretism of a civil and religious ethic of behavior and thought, many view it in terms of the Inquisition and the Salem Witch Trials. Who can blame them?
In fact, I would not want to go back to a society of Blue Laws and other subtle forms of discrimination against my brand of religion, while at the same time I bemoan and mourn the loss of the basic moral ethic that has its roots in Judeo-Christian thought. But then again, my contact with the Evangelical Right does not inspire worries about their agenda, nor do I have a concern about a return to expulsions from the body politic.
I am concerned, however, about the new Puritans, the Puritans of the left. They seem to have an entirely different ethic and even religious fervor that has its own non-negotiable rules of morality. The debate is over, they tell us, on climate change, carbon (dioxide) emissions, same sex marriage, illegal immigration, free speech rights, and whatever else that is a part of the new orthodoxy. Dissent is good, they say, even patriotic as long as they are the dissenters, but now the questions have all been decided. They won the election! Game over!
In this we see a new intolerance born of the misunderstanding of the origins of our liberty. Thomas Jefferson wrote, “Can the liberties of a nation be thought secure when we have removed their only firm basis, a conviction in the minds of the people that these liberties are the gift of God?” If one does not believe in universal, inalienable rights endowed by one’s Creator (for in the world of secularism, there is no Creator) then from where do your rights come?
My internet interlocutor offered the case that the people get to decide which rights we have. But if that’s the case, the people by a majority vote or a majority vote of their representatives can decide that no one has a right to be Jewish and can initiate an Inquisition. They can decide that homosexuals can be strung up and beaten with rubber hoses. They can legislate or even prohibit religious beliefs and enforce compliance. Why not? They won the election! Game over!
Inalienable rights endowed by a Creator is a more sure road to freedom. As for me, I prefer that world view whether this is a Christian nation or not.

Apple Pies and Holy Nations: The Upward Calling (Sabbath Thoughts)
In order to prove that God was no longer required by humankind, a coalition of prominent scientists joined forces with the goal of discovering some advancement that would put them on equal footing with their Creator. It took decades of grueling research and backbreaking labor, but at long last, they made an earth-shaking breakthrough. Soon, reporters and news anchors everywhere were raving about the newly constructed “Genesis machine” – a machine, everyone said, that would free humanity from its dependence on God.
With great pomp and circumstance, the scientists brought their invention before the throne of God for its grand unveiling. He watched patiently as they assembled the machine, piece by intricate piece, until they stood proudly before a rather impressive-looking contraption, covered in flashing lights and a mind-boggling array of buttons.
After a moment or two of silence, God gestured to the machine and said, “Well? What does it do?”
The lead scientist grinned widely and said, “We’ve done it! We’ve finally done it! This new invention proves once and for all that You, God, are obsolete!”
“Oh?” said God. “How so?”
With a grand sweep of his arm and a nod of his head, the lead scientist gestured for his companions to begin prepping the machine. Buttons were pressed, pistons and gears sprang to life, and lights flashed wildly. “With the Genesis machine,” he said, “we can now create life from inanimate matter. All it needs to begin is a small handful of dirt – and from there, anything is possible.”
“Most impressive!” said God. “Let’s see!”
The scientist knelt to the ground to scoop up a pile of dirt and began walking toward the great contraption – but just as he reached the machine, God snapped His fingers and the dirt vanished. Irritated, the scientist turned to God and shouted, “What’s the big idea?”
“I thought you were going to prove to Me that I was obsolete,” said God.
“I will!” shouted the scientist.
“That I am completely, entirely unnecessary to humanity.”
“You are!”
“Well then,” said God, leaning in close to the scientist and placing His hand on the man’s shoulder, “get your own dirt.”
Making Apple Pies
Mankind prides itself on its creative abilities. After all, what haven’t we created? From masterful paintings to towering buildings to technological advancements so complex they require several degrees to fully comprehend, it’s evident that the human race has a definite affinity for creating.
But are we really creators? It was the late Carl Sagan who once observed, “If you wish to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first invent the universe.” In the most literal sense, we can never claim to have made an apple pie from scratch because we didn’t make the ingredients. Even if you grew your own apples and milled your own wheat, can you claim to have made the apple tree? Where did the millstone come from – did you create the rock from which it was fashioned?
The universe and all its building blocks were established a long time ago, created from absolute nothing by the Word of God. As much ingenuity as we’ve shown in our time on earth, we haven’t technically created anything. We’ve just rearranged quite a bit of it.
The Original Creator
The very first sentence of the very first book of the entire Bible establishes God as the only true Creator: “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth” (Genesis 1:1). The introduction to the entire written word of God is a reminder that God made everything. The computer you’re reading this on, the chair you’re sitting in, even the very clothes you’re wearing – the atoms and molecules that compose all of these began their journey when God spoke the universe into existence at the dawn of time.
We might be creative, but God is the Creator. “For He spoke, and it was done; He commanded, and it stood fast” (Psalm 33:9).
Qadash and Qodesh
At the end of the creation week, God did something special with His brand new universe. He took the seventh day and He “blessed … and sanctified it, because in it He rested from all His work which God had created and made” (Genesis 2:3).
The word “sanctified” is an interesting one. It is unfortunately one of those words that gets tossed around by religious communities without much attention to its actual meaning – a word that our minds might register as frivolous “religious speak” before reading right over it. But it’s an important word, so let’s take a minute to really look at it.
The word that was translated in Genesis 2:3 as “sanctified” is from the Hebrew word qadash, which means “to consecrate, sanctify, prepare, dedicate, be hallowed, be holy, be sanctified, be separate.” It’s also worth noting that qadash serves as the root of the Hebrew word translated “holy” (qodesh). So when we read that something has been sanctified or made holy, what this literally means is that it has been set apart in some way.
Apples and Apples
Okay, so I have ten apples. I take three of them and set them some distance away from the others. Are they holy apples now? Is the action of being set apart enough to make something holy? More important question: Are they even my apples?
Even though they’re in my possession, I can’t really call them mine. After all, “The earth is the Lord’s, and all its fullness, the world and those who dwell therein” (Psalm 24:1). Because God created everything, He owns everything – making Him the only being in the Universe with the right to sanctify anything at all. For one of us to try and do so would be roughly the same as a child pointing to some belonging of his parents’ and declaring, “I’m making this one special!” It’s not up to the child to decide – and it’s not up to us, either.
But when God makes something holy, He tells us, “Out of all the vast riches of My universe; out of every single galaxy I have fashioned, this is special to Me. There may be others that look like it, but I am making this one different; I am giving this one a special purpose.”
Setting aside time and space
We’ve already looked at the very first sanctification recorded in the Bible – the Sabbath day. God made the seventh day holy by setting it apart from all the other days of the week for the special purpose of providing rest. Later, it appears as the first of several “holy convocations” (Leviticus 23:1-3) which God set apart from the normal flow of time as special observances to remind His people of His plan for all humanity. Throughout the Bible, we see references to “holy ground” (Exodus 3:5), the “holy things [of the tabernacle]” (Numbers 4:4), a “holy border” (Psalm 78:54), and many other things set apart by God for special purposes. Out of all of time and space, God chose these times, objects, and places to become something more than what they were. But in addition to all of that, there’s one other thing that God makes holy: You.
A Holy Nation
You didn’t belong, once. There was a time, whether you grew up in the Church or not, when you didn’t have a relationship with God. There was a time when you hadn’t internalized the guiding light that is His word. There was a time when you were a common, ordinary human being.
But God changed that. He made you holy. He sanctified you; He set you apart. For “you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people, that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light; who were once not a people but now are the people of God, who had not obtained mercy but now have the obtained mercy” (1 Peter 2:9-10).
Whoever you were before, whatever road you left behind you, wherever it is you’ve been, you now belong in a holy nation. You have been chosen by the Creator, set aside by Him from the rest of the world to become one of His people. He called you and offered you a path from darkness into light, and you accepted.
The Antithesis of Holy
Unfortunately, there’s a problem. While it’s true that we cannot take something common and make it holy, we can do the opposite. We can take what God has set apart and treat it as common through a process called profaning. God warns repeatedly against profaning His name (Leviticus 18:21; Proverbs 30:9; Ezekiel 20:39) and His Sabbaths (Exodus 31:14; Ezekiel 22:8) by treating them as ordinary. Generally speaking, when Israel found itself oppressed by nearby nations, it was because they had stopped honoring both God and His Sabbaths.
When we stop treating God as holy, He stops setting us apart. We can’t profane the name of the One who sanctifies and expect to remain holy ourselves. In other words, when God sets something apart – when He makes something holy – we must be sure to treat it as such! When He sets rules and determines boundaries, we can’t treat them as suggestions or good ideas. If we’re given a commanded assembly, we need to make sure we’re there. If we’re shown a line and told not to cross it, we need to keep from skirting the edges. The high standard of holiness is not one we can meet by remaining stationary, but by constantly pressing on toward perfection.
Onward and Upward
“Therefore gird up the loins of your mind, be sober, and rest your hope fully upon the grace that is to be brought to you at the revelation of Jesus Christ; as obedient children, not conforming yourselves to the former lusts, as in your ignorance; but as He who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, because it is written, ‘Be holy, for I am holy’” (1 Peter 1:13-16).
Brethren, we have been set apart by God to become part of His holy family. One day the whole world will have this invitation, but for right now it’s just us. The road there is a hard one and we have been called to walk it while living in a world that opposes us at every turn. The days will be hard, the battles will be difficult, but the crown of righteousness lies ahead.
We serve a holy God, and He has called us to be holy, too. Let’s strive to meet that standard.

3 Ways to Move a Mountain (Sabbath Thoughts)
I know of three ways to move a mountain.
The first is to attempt some kind of herculean effort, tearing the whole thing off its base and tossing it aside. This is my usual approach, and it has never worked, not once. As a bonus, I end up feeling discouraged about my ability to accomplish anything, even though succeeding was impossible from the start.
Another, more practical way is with a shovel – showing up every day, day after day, chipping away at the problem one shovelful at a time. The difficulty with this approach is that it’s still easy to get discouraged. Comparing even your hardest day’s work to what remains to be done can make us feel like we haven’t really done anything.
The secret to this method is looking at the shovelfuls, not the mountain. Showing up consistently and getting to work. Yes, the results of a single day of shoveling might not be anything to write home about, but multiply that day by a week, a month, a year, a decade – a lifetime – and you’ll start to see the results you’re looking for.
The third way – the most important way – is prayer.
“Assuredly, I say to you, if you have faith as a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you” (Matthew 17:20).
Our God can and will help us move the mountains in our lives – but He isn’t always going to do the hard work for us, apart from us.
Sometimes, when we ask God to help us move a mountain, He’s going to hand us a shovel.

Learning to Love God’s Law (Sabbath Thoughts)
“Oh, how I love Your law! It is my meditation all the day” (Psalm 119:97).
For a long time, I had trouble wrapping my head around that sentiment.
It’s not that I didn’t appreciate God’s law. I did appreciate it. I had the blessing of being raised in the Church by two parents who helped me to see God’s law as valuable and precious.
But love it? That always felt like an odd feeling to have toward a law. By definition, a law is designed to prevent you from doing one thing, or to compel you to do something else. It’s a boundary, a fence, a requirement – something designed to limit what you’re allowed to do.
I didn’t understand how a person could love that. It’s not like anyone is going around writing 176 verse psalms of praise about the U.S. tax code, right? (I’m not even sure what that would sound like. “I will delight myself in Title 26, Subtitle A, Chapter 2, Section 1402(a)(1), which I love.”
Of course, the difference here is that God’s law is leagues apart from a country’s tax code. We’re not talking about a couple centuries’ worth of half-baked ideas and addendums haphazardly bolted onto a lopsided framework eroded by the misguided imaginings and greedy schemes of mere human beings.
We’re talking about the law of the God who set the universe in motion.
I think I’m finally getting to a point in my life where I can understand it – how it’s possible to love a set of restrictions and requirements – and more than that, why loving it is important.
It comes down to how we view fences.
If we only ever see God’s law as the fence that stands between us and the things we’d really rather be doing, then yes, it’s never going to be possible for us to love that law. It’s never going to be possible to offer God anything more than grudging obedience.
On the other hand, if we see God’s law as the fence that protects us from wandering into the darkest corners and most painful errors of this physical life, then, well…
That’s the kind of law someone could write a song about.
That’s the kind of law someone could learn to love.
That’s what the author of Psalm 119 saw. Look at the way he talks about God’s law:
“My soul breaks with longing for Your judgments at all times” (verse 20).
“I long for Your precepts” (verse 40).
“Your statutes have been my songs in the house of my pilgrimage” (verse 54).
“How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth!” (verse 103).
“Your testimonies … are the rejoicing of my heart” (verse 111).
“I love Your commandments more than gold, yes, than fine gold!” (verse 127).
“Your testimonies are wonderful” (verse 129).
“Consider how I love Your precepts” (verse 159).
“I rejoice at Your word as one who finds great treasure” (verse 162).
“My soul keeps Your testimonies, and I love them exceedingly” (verse 167).
“Your law is my delight” (verse 174 – compare verses 16, 24, 47, 70, 77, and 143).
The psalmist isn’t silent about why he feels this way, either.
God’s law is “a lamp to my feet and a light to my path” (verse 105).
It offers “more understanding than all my teachers” (verse 99) and “more than the aged” (verse 100, ESV).
It is a path (verse 35), a course to run (verse 32) that keeps us from wandering down every false (verse 104) and evil way (verse 101).
It’s what Moses pleaded for the Israelites to understand as they stood at the border of Canaan – every law God gives us, every precept, every testimony, every commandment, every statute – they place boundaries between us and self-destructive wickedness, all while ushering us toward a rewarding, fulfilling life.
“And now, Israel, what does the LORD your God require of you, but to fear the LORD your God, to walk in all His ways and to love Him, to serve the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul, and to keep the commandments of the LORD and His statutes which I command you today for your good?” (Deuteronomy 10:12-13).
Go this way and live. Go that way and die.
The Creator of the universe, who has a vested interest in your journey through this physical life – who calls you His child and offers you a place of honor in His family – has laid out in great detail the physical and spiritual principles necessary for navigating this life and laying hold of eternity in the next.
That’s what God’s law does for us. That’s what makes it beautiful. That’s what makes it something to reach out and grasp tightly, to treasure, to meditate on in the night watches, to cling to like a lifeline.
That’s what makes it something to love.

Pray For Our Enemies (Morning Companion)
In my country we live in one of the most polarized periods in our history, or so we are told. If we were to track the roots of our divided family tree, we could rationally lay the blame on our political environment, although, if we were to ask the neighborhood, we would probably find that most of our neighbors don’t like the squabbling any more than we do. In fact, as is often the case under such ruckus, we could probably surmise that a few rock throwers on opposite sides of the road are the ones who are making most of the noise in the hopes that we’ll all join the rumble.
It has degenerated to the point in some quarters where those who have opinions differing from the politically acceptable wisdom of the day are being referred to as enemies, with the implication that the word should begin with a capital E.
I don’t know where all of my readers stand on every issue. We likely disagree — and disagree mightily — on something. That does not mean we need to be Enemies.
Sadly, not all look at the world in that way, and we can rightfully say they might very well be enemies.
And if that’s the case, we need to treat them as such.
So let me ask you a question. When was the last time you prayed for your enemies? Think of the sleaziest politician that you can and make that person a focus of your prayer, not in hate, but in love. Why would we not do this? What’s the worst that could happen if we did? What if they, like Saul of Tarsus, were to repent? Or maybe we need to do some repenting ourselves over our own attitudes. Would that be such a bad thing?
Regardless who is in the White House and who is in the outhouse, it’s good to remember how Paul instructs us to pray.
First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for everyone, for kings and all who are in high positions, so that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and dignity (1 Timothy 2:1-2).

Not Of This World (Sabbath Thoughts)
“My kingdom is not of this world. If My kingdom were of this world, My servants would fight, so that I should not be delivered to the Jews; but now My kingdom is not from here” (John 18:36).
I’ve been thinking about that lately. The Jews of the first century – up to and including Jesus Christ’s own disciples, even after His resurrection – were looking for a Messiah who would overthrow the Romans and “restore the kingdom to Israel” (Acts 1:6). What they got was a Savior who sacrificed Himself for the world and then asked His followers to do a very difficult thing: To wait.
Those are His last words in Luke’s gospel account: “tarry in the city of Jerusalem until you are endued with power from on high” (Luke 24:49).
Wait. Be patient. So they did. And they were. Finally, on the Festival of Pentecost, God poured out His Spirit on them, and they set about fulfilling their divine commission: to make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them and teaching them to obey the words of God (Matthew 28:19-20).
All the while, these faithful disciples were looking to the horizon, waiting for the Kingdom their Lord and Savior had promised to establish at His return.
But it didn’t come – not during their lifetimes, anyway. Even Paul, who wrote with confidence about “we who are alive and remain until the coming of the Lord” (1 Thessalonians 4:15), eventually came to accept that Jesus would be returning after his own death, and not before (2 Timothy 4:6).
For the last 2,000 years, Christ’s disciples have been waiting. And while we wait for the Kingdom not of this world, Jesus asks us to do another difficult thing: To live like we’re not of this world.
Because, of course, we aren’t. Jesus told the Father, “They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world” (John 17:16). Paul told the Philippians, “Our citizenship is in heaven, from which we also eagerly wait for the Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ” (Philippians 3:20). He told Timothy, “No soldier gets entangled in civilian pursuits, since his aim is to please the one who enlisted him” (2 Timothy 2:4, ESV). The author of Hebrews urges us to follow the example of those who “confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth,” who “declare plainly that they seek a homeland” (Hebrews 11:13-14).
The world wants you to get involved – to get entrenched – to find a hill to die on and battle it out till the bitter end. And if you want a hill to die on, this is a year to find one. There is no shortage of highly polarized issues you can focus on and fight about for as long as you like. Political issues, cultural issues, social issues, environmental issues – you name it, it’s there to fight over. Pick your platform and air your stance – and that’s all it takes to enter the fray.
The hard part is stepping back.
The hard part is remembering that this isn’t how things get fixed.
The hard part is confessing that we’re just passing through, declaring that our homeland is somewhere else.
Those who came before us faced their own challenges, too. “And truly if they had called to mind that country from which they had come out, they would have had opportunity to return. But now they desire a better, that is, a heavenly country. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them” (Hebrews 11:15-16).
Satan would love to see you return to the country you left behind. He’d love to see you lose your focus by investing all your time and energy into arguing over temporary band-aids for a world that’s already irreparably broken.
Remember why you’re here. Remember where you’re going:
A city not of this world, prepared for a people not of this world. A Kingdom where all the issues of this world will be fixed by the God who knows how to fix them. Our homeland.
Jesus is coming quickly. “Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus!” (Revelation 22:20).

For God Still Loves the World (Sabbath Thoughts)
I saw this phrase on the December 2020 cover of Christianity Today. A giant, cosmic hand reaches out toward a world wrapped in darkness, drifting alone in the starry expanse. The phrase floats along the curvature of our little planet, printed in letters so tiny you have to lean in to read them: “For God Still Loves the World.”
The cover was striking. So was the phrase.
They’ve both stayed with me, but the words especially have been floating around my head – probably because of the way they contrast with John 3:16, arguably the most well-known scripture of all time:
“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life” (John 3:16).
That’s such a beautiful verse. We might roll our eyes at it when we see it overused or emphasized to the exclusion of all other context, but it doesn’t change the fact that these words contain a truly incredible truth:
God loved the world. The world full of wayward sinners and wicked miscreants, the world where even His own chosen people had (again) lost sight of what mattered – He looked at that world and loved it enough to send His Son to die in a truly excruciating way, all so that the doors of salvation could be opened to a planet full of people who didn’t deserve it. Who couldn’t deserve it, not in a million billion years.
And His Son loved the world enough to agree to the plan and follow through. But the problem with that verse (I speak as a fool) is that it’s in the past tense. Of course it is. It has to be – it’s talking about an event in the past. The real problem – not with the verse, but with the way we might be inclined to read it – is that it’s easy to look at God’s love as past tense.
“God so loved the world.” Then, but not now. Once upon a time.
I guess that’s why the phrase stuck with me the way it did. For God still loves the world. As if to say, “He’d do it all over again if He needed to.”
Even now. Even today. For any of us.
But He doesn’t need to do it over again, and that’s a beautiful thing, too.
Therefore He is also able to save to the uttermost those who come to God through Him, since He always lives to make intercession for them.
For such a High Priest was fitting for us, who is holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners, and has become higher than the heavens; who does not need daily, as those high priests, to offer up sacrifices, first for His own sins and then for the people’s, for this He did once for all when He offered up Himself. For the law appoints as high priests men who have weakness, but the word of the oath, which came after the law, appoints the Son who has been perfected forever. (Hebrews 7:25-28)
The sacrifice that tore the veil to the Most Holy Place in half two thousand years ago is the same sacrifice that covers our sins today and lets us run our race to the Kingdom.
But it’s bigger than just our sins. It’s bigger than just the relative handful around the world who know God and who obey Him.
“And He Himself is the propitiation for our sins, and not for ours only but also for the whole world” (1 John 2:2).
The whole world doesn’t know or understand that yet. It doesn’t know how to accept that propitiation or even why it needs it. But it will. In time, it will.
In time, “Ten men from every language of the nations shall grasp the sleeve of a Jewish man, saying, ‘Let us go with you, for we have heard that God is with you’” (Zechariah 8:23).
In time, everyone will come to understand that the God who so loved the world is the God who still loves the world, and that from the dawn of time itself, He has been working toward the completion of His plan to transform flesh and blood humans into His sons and daughters, made fully and completely into His likeness, ready to explore the depths of eternity as His spiritual family.
The world is a confused and angry place right now. A lot of people are doing a lot of things they will one day look back on in shame and disgust. It’s hard, knowing the truth, not to be angry at so many of the things that are happening.
It’s hard not to be angry at the people doing those things, too. But maybe not wise. Wisdom asks us to be discerning about where our anger is directed. Yes, be angry at the sins. Be angry at how the beauty of God’s creation has been corrupted and trampled and perverted into a deformed husk of what it was intended to be. Be angry that our adversary the devil has convinced billions upon billions to heap pain and misery and suffering upon their own heads while believing they are doing something good and noble.
Be angry at all that, but never forget that God so loved the world.
That God still loves the world.

Festival of Firstfruits (New Horizons)
The festivals form a pattern based on the agricultural cycle, perfectly understandable in an agrarian society. The apostle Paul has much to say about the ‘First-fruit’, and he expands its significance beyond the harvest theme to embrace the glorious destiny mapped out for true believers.
The first festival of the Hebrew year is Passover/Unleavened Bread, and the firstfruit of the barley harvest was celebrated during it. When the Sabbath ended the Temple authorities cut a sheaf of ripe barley, which was presented next morning before the altar: ‘… he [priest] shall wave the sheaf before Jehovah for your acceptance; on the morrow of the sabbath [Sunday] he priest shall wave it’ (Leviticus 23:10). It was called the ‘Wavesheaf’.
The apostle applies this symbolism to Jesus: ‘… now Christ has been raised from the dead; He became the firstfruit of those having fallen asleep [i.e. who died]’ (1 Corinthians 15:20).
Passover marked the death of Jesus – which occurred as the Passover lamb was slain in the Temple. The harvesting of the Wavesheaf marked his resurrection from death, Jesus having spent three days in the grave (Matthew 12:40).
Sunday morning we find Mary at Jesus’s tomb, early, ‘while yet dark’- only to find him gone (John 20:1). Jesus then met Mary, but forbade her to touch him:
‘Do not touch Me, for I have not yet ascended to My Father’ (v.17).
He was about to ascend to heaven to be presented to the Father as the firstfruit (1 Corinthians 15:20) – at the time the firstfruit sheaf was to be presented in the Temple. We note that the disciples later that day embraced him when he appeared to them. Mission accomplished.
Noting that the wavesheaf consisted of many stalks of ripe grain, Paul unravels the significance: ‘…ourselves also, which have the firstfruits of the Spirit’ (Romans 8:23). Every true Christian is a part of the ‘firstfruit harvest. James echoes this theme; if you are ‘in Christ’ you are ‘…a kind of firstfruits’ (James 1:18).
The barley harvest began only after that first sheaf of grain had been cut (Leviticus 23:14), and continued until the next festival seven weeks later. God instructed: ‘…you shall count unto you from the morrow after the sabbath, from the day that you brought the sheaf of the wave offering; seven sabbaths shall be complete: Even unto the morrow after the seventh sabbath shall you number fifty days’ (v.15-16). It culminated in the Feast of Weeks – in the New Testament called Pentecost (Acts 2:1).
It is of note that the first Christians joyfully accepted that the LORD expected them to observe His festivals. Thus we find Paul ‘was in a hurry to arrive in Jerusalem by the day of Pentecost, if at all possible’ (Acts 20:16).
He had also issued guidance to the Corinthian brethren on the manner they should be observing these festivals (1 Corinthians 5).

Better than Stardust (Sabbath Thoughts)
Speaking of the formation of stars and solar systems, astronomer Carl Sagan once wrote:
All of the rocky and metallic material we stand on, the iron in our blood, the calcium in our teeth, the carbon in our genes were produced billions of years ago in the interior of a red giant star. We are made of star-stuff. (The Cosmic Connection, p.189-190)
Later, he would refine that thought for the first episode of Cosmos, a 1980 miniseries he hosted:
The cosmos is also within us. We’re made of star-stuff. We are a way for the cosmos to know itself.
For someone who believes that human life is a product of millions of years of evolution, it’s a compelling narrative – that our existence isn’t just a happy accident, but the universe becoming self-aware, understanding and experiencing itself through us.
Neil deGrasse Tyson, an astrophysicist who hosted the follow-up series to Sagan’s Cosmos, would later echo the same thought in his 2017 book, Astrophysics for People in a Hurry:
What we do know, and what we can assert without further hesitation, is that the universe had a beginning. The universe continues to evolve. And yes, every one of our body’s atoms is traceable to the big bang and to the thermonuclear furnaces within high-mass stars that exploded more than five billion years ago. We are stardust brought to life, then empowered by the universe to figure itself out – and we have only just begun.
There’s a certain beauty to that whole train of thought: The building blocks of our existence were forged in the hearts of stars that erupted from the birth of the universe. We are the universe – coming alive, coming to understand itself. But it’s the wrong train of thought, isn’t it? As poetic as it sounds, it falls woefully short of capturing the true beauty of what’s going on here.
Yes, if God created the universe through the mechanism of the Big Bang – and the current scientific evidence, as we understand it, suggests that He did – then maybe we are stardust.
But that’s not all we are. That’s so far from all we are.
Family, you and I were shaped by the hands that made the stars.
When God took the dust of the ground and formed the very first man – when He took a rib from that man and made a woman – He wasn’t enabling the universe to know itself.
He was creating life in His image – an entire race of beings, men and women, who were made to look like Him, who were infused with the potential to become like Him. When He made the sun and the stars and set them in “the firmament of the heavens” (Genesis 1:17), He was merely setting the stage. These great thermonuclear furnaces – these astronomical spheres of whirling plasma and incomprehensible circumference – they were set in place as a backdrop to the main event. Us. The stars are a trifle. A mesmerizing, beautiful trifle, an awe-inspiring wonder of the universe – but a trifle all the same. Nothing else in the creation week gets the introduction God gives the human race:
Then God said, “Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness; let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, over all the earth and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth.” So God created man in His own image; in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them. Then God blessed them, and God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply; fill the earth and subdue it; have dominion over the fish of the sea, over the birds of the air, and over every living thing that moves on the earth.” (Genesis 1:26–28)
It’s not a spotlight we’ve earned or deserved – it’s a spotlight God chose to shine. He made humans uniquely in His image because He wants to expand His family. Understand the enormity of that.
No other creature has that potential. The stars that fill the night sky certainly don’t. That ought to lead us to ask the same questions David asked:
When I consider Your heavens, the work of Your fingers,
The moon and the stars, which You have ordained,
What is man that You are mindful of him,
And the son of man that You visit him?
For You have made him a little lower than the angels,
And You have crowned him with glory and honor.(Psalm 8:3-5)
God’s creation is filled with wonders – testaments to His infinite creativity and wisdom, His “invisible attributes” on display for us to see (Romans 1:20). Eliphaz asked, “Is not God in the height of heaven? And see the highest stars, how lofty they are!” (Job 22:12). And yet none of those wonders have the potential future that God offers to human beings – the potential to live on into eternity as His children, in His image.
You are not the universe coming to know itself.
You are more than a curious by-product of the Big Bang.
You are a child of God, shaped by the hands that made the stars – and one day, you’ll outshine even the brightest of them. That’s so much better than stardust.

It’s OK to Smile in Church (Morning Companion)
In the 1970s, American humorist Erma Bombeck attended a worship service that she would never forget. Something happened that made her mad:
In church the other day I was intent on a small child who was turning around smiling at everyone. He wasn’t gurgling, spitting, humming, kicking, tearing the hymnals or rummaging through his mother’s handbag. He was just smiling.
Finally, his mother jerked him about and in a stage whisper that could be heard in a little theater off Broadway said, “Stop that grinning! You’re in church!” With that, she gave him a belt on his hind side and as the tears rolled down his cheeks added, “That’s better,” and returned to her prayers.
Suddenly I was angry. It occurred to me the entire world is in tears and if you’re not, then you’d better get with it. I wanted to grab this child with the tear-stained face close to me and tell him about my God. The happy God. The smiling God. The God who had to have a sense of humor to have created the likes of us. I wanted to tell him he is an understanding God who understands little children who pick their noses in church because they are bored. I wanted to tell him I’ve taken a few lumps in my time for daring to smile at religion.
It isn’t a sin to smile. It isn’t a sin to be happy. It isn’t a sin to have joy…even when those around you don’t!
Some may say that church isn’t the place to smile. I can think of none better.
Dare to Make a Joyful Noise Unto the Lord! by Erma Bombeck. Ocala Star-Banner, February 26, 1970.

Tedious Graffiti and Idle Scribbles (Sabbath Thoughts)
Before the city of Pompeii was entombed with ash for 1,500 years, it was covered with something else entirely: graffiti.
The eruption that destroyed the city ironically preserved the scribblings of the Romans who lived there – and if that graffiti goes to show anything, it’s that not much has changed in the past few millennia. Some people left their mark:

• Gaius Pumidius Dipilus was here on October 3rd 78 BC. (That date was, of course, converted in the translation process – I doubt Gaius knew how many years away the birth of Jesus Christ was.)

• Aufidius was here. Goodbye.

• Staphylus was here with Quieta.

• Romula hung out here with Staphylus.

• Publius Comicius Restitutus stood right here with his brother.

Some declared their love:

• Caesius faithfully loves M.

• Figulus loves Idaia.

• Marcus loves Spendusa.

• Rufus loves Cornelia Hele.

• Hectice, baby, Mercator says hello to you.

Some left wisdom:

• Traveler, you eat bread in Pompeii but you go to Nuceria to drink. At Nuceria, the drinking is better.

• Once you are dead, you are nothing.

• A small problem gets larger if you ignore it.

• Remove lustful expressions and flirtatious tender eyes from another man’s wife; may there be modesty in your expression.

Some left insults:

• Samius to Cornelius: go hang yourself!

• Epaphra, you are bald!

• Virgula to her friend Tertius: you are disgusting!

Some left warnings:

• This is not a place to idle. Shove off, loiterer.

• The finances officer of the emperor Nero says this food is poison.

• Postpone your tiresome quarrels if you can, or leave and take them home with you.

Of course, many left incredibly lewd and disgusting comments that I won’t bother to reproduce here – not unlike your average bathroom stall at a rest station. And some people… uh, made bread:

• On April 19th, I made bread.

But my favorite piece of vandalism by far is scrawled on the Basilica, which functioned as Pompeii’s court and town hall. There are a ton of remarks here, but one stands out:
O walls, you have held up so much tedious graffiti that I am amazed that you have not already collapsed in ruin.
There’s a certain sense of irony that this inscription managed to survive the calamity wreaked by Mt. Vesuvius – but irony aside, it’s a phrase that’s stayed with me since I first came across it two decades ago. (The translation I heard back then was, I wonder, O wall, that you have held up under the weight of so many idle scribblings.)
Tedious graffiti. Idle scribblings. Do you have a wall you like to write on? There’s the obvious analogy of social media – everyone on Facebook has a “wall” you can write on – but I want to go a little broader than that.
Where are you focusing your creative energies? Where are you investing your time? Is there a wall in your life that you’re filling up with tedious graffiti? Is it worth it?
At the end of the day, there’s really only one wall worth focusing on – the wall whose “foundation … is Jesus Christ. Now if anyone builds on this foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw, each one’s work will become clear; for the Day will declare it, because it will be revealed by fire; and the fire will test each one’s work, of what sort it is. If anyone’s work which he has built on it endures, he will receive a reward. If anyone’s work is burned, he will suffer loss; but he himself will be saved, yet so as through fire” (1 Corinthians 3:11-15).
Nothing wrong with hobbies. Nothing wrong with creative outlets. Nothing wrong with having fun. But not every wall in our lives deserves equal attention – and if we’re not taking the time to add to the right foundation with the right materials, we may find that the only thing we’ve really accomplished is a portfolio of idle scribblings.
Against all odds, the “tedious graffiti” of Pompei’s Basilica was preserved for centuries. We know where Gaius Pumidius Dipilus was on October 3rd, 78 BC. We know someone baked some bread on April 19th. We know Marcus loved Spendusa, and we have reason to believe Epaphra was bald. So what? In the end, even those walls won’t last. When the Day of the Lord comes and “the heavens … pass away with a great noise, and the elements … melt with fervent heat; both the earth and the works that are in it will be burned up” (2 Peter 3:10) – and 6,000 years of tedious human graffiti along with it.
You, on the other hand, have the opportunity to contribute to something lasting, meaningful, and precious. Better get building.

Revelation and the Three Seats of Power (Morning Companion)
This will be one of my rare forays into the Book of Revelation. It’s not that I discount its value. But having read and heard the failure of prognosticators’ prophetic timelines, I’m inclined to be extra careful when drawing any conclusions about prophecy and end-time interpretations.
Having said that, I find a certain section in the book to be an interesting framework by which to view the political history of the world, and, by extension, a framework that can help us understand the state of society in the end times.
The section in question is Revelation 17 and 18. But before we get into that, I’m going to posit a theory of history, and we’ll see how that matches up with those two chapters.
Under this theory of history, there are three centers of power. Let’s call them estates, borrowing a phrase from the French Revolution. These three estates are 1) the political, 2) the ecclesiastical, and 3) the financial. They will often work together to create a stable society (or to enrich and empower themselves), and at various times and places one of those three will have the dominance. For example, in Communist nations, the political dominates through its exercise of force. During the Middle Ages, the religious establishment dominated the kings and the financial interests of Medieval Europe. The city-states in Renaissance Italy were dominated by financial interests.
Under this theory, history is a matter of which estate is best positioned to dominate society. Sometimes two of the three estates will form an alliance to marginalize the third estate. It is also fair to say, even if they are rivals, and even if sometimes they hold great animosity for each other, they can all accumulate wealth and power.
Let’s take a look now at Revelation 17 & 18.
Chapter 17 pictures a harlot riding a beast. This symbol hearkens back to Greek mythology.
In this myth Europa, a virgin Phoenician princess, is seduced by Zeus. Zeus transforms himself into a bull, which seduces Europa into climbing onto the bull’s back. Zeus in the form of the bull then charges into the sea and brings Europa to Crete.
Early Christians reading Revelation would immediately make a connection between the Greek myth and the symbols that John uses in Revelation 17. They would connect the symbolism of a princess from Phoenicia, Jezebel’s land of origin and also that of Baal, and Zeus, a power from Europe, joining forces. Here we have a corrupt ecclesiastical system merging with a powerful and dominant political/military force. Here we have two of the three estates combining to exert power and influence. This is in stark contrast to Jesus’s statement that his kingdom is not of this world (John 18:36), nor are his followers of this world (John 17:16).
Revelation 17 shows in a metaphorical way what happens when the political and the ecclesiastical combine: the ecclesiastical does not purify the political. Instead, the political corrupts the ecclesiastical and then turns the ecclesiastical into a metaphorical Jezebel. It’s important to emphasize here that this metaphor does not point a finger exclusively at one prominent religious organization. It is a mistake to do that. Every religion of this world is at risk of that corrupting influence. It has happened in many Protestant and Orthodox-dominated countries, not to mention non-Christian religions such as Hinduism, Islam, and Buddhism.
In any case, and relevant to the Christians reading and understanding Revelation, the warning to followers of Christ is to avoid becoming the consort — the “harlot” in Biblical terms — of politics or of any political party. They will court you and use you, but will end up resenting you and destroying you if you cease to submit to their manipulation (Revelation 17:16).
That becomes even more relevant when we consider the Jezebel nature of an ecclesiastical system that craves political power. The woman riding the beast will, like Jezebel, try to rule the politics of the domain and become drunk with power, often leading to death or banishment of those who dare to disagree with her enlightenment (Revelation 17:6).
The role of the Body of Christ, on the other hand, is an evangelistic and prophetic one: to preach the gospel to the world (Matthew 28:19-20) and to proclaim a prophetic message (Isaiah 58:1, John 16:8 on revealing to people their sins). Those roles are often incompatible with political goals, because the purpose of evangelism and moral teachings is not to gain power or money, but to advance this world’s rival, which is the Kingdom of God.
So far we have addressed two of the estates: the political and the ecclesiastical. The third estate, the financial, is addressed in Revelation 18. In this chapter the fall of Babylon is illustrated. If we take Babylon to mean the system of this world’s politics and its bedfellows which were introduced to this world in the mists of the ancient world dating back to the Tigris and Euphrates, we can see that the power and wealth of that system results in fantastic wealth and power for a few while the majority live subsistence lifestyles. Thus, when the Babylonian system falls and is replaced with the government of God that has an entirely new ethic (Luke 22:24-26, Matthew 5-7), the kings of the earth will weep over their loss (Revelation 18:9-10). So will the merchants of the earth (Revelation 18:11-19). Look at what this passage says. Notice the words in the italics that I have added:
“And the merchants of the earth will weep and mourn over her, for no one buys their merchandise anymore: merchandise of gold and silver, precious stones and pearls, fine linen and purple, silk and scarlet, every kind of citron wood, every kind of object of ivory, every kind of object of most precious wood, bronze, iron, and marble; and cinnamon and incense, fragrant oil and frankincense, wine and oil, fine flour and wheat, cattle and sheep, horses and chariots, and bodies and souls of men. The fruit that your soul longed for has gone from you, and all the things which are rich and splendid have gone from you, and you shall find them no more at all. The merchants of these things, who became rich by her, will stand at a distance for fear of her torment, weeping and wailing, and saying, ‘Alas, alas, that great city that was clothed in fine linen, purple, and scarlet, and adorned with gold and precious stones and pearls! For in one hour such great riches came to nothing.’ Every shipmaster, all who travel by ship, sailors, and as many as trade on the sea, stood at a distance and cried out when they saw the smoke of her burning, saying, ‘What is like this great city?’
“They threw dust on their heads and cried out, weeping and wailing, and saying, ‘Alas, alas, that great city, in which all who had ships on the sea became rich by her wealth! For in one hour she is made desolate.’
The picture we see in chapters 17 and 18 of Revelation is one where all three estates are working closely together to achieve their sometimes overlapping objectives. Throughout history, each estate vies for supremacy and sometimes achieves it, but that supremacy is only temporary because the other two power bases act as rivals for the preeminence of power. When all three decide to cooperate and attempt to consolidate power, they will still be rivals, but their marriage of convenience spells the loss of freedom and the transfer of wealth from everyone who is not of their club. Notice the words bodies and souls of men in Revelation 18. That’s a reference to physical and psychological slavery for the rest of us.
The view of Revelation 17 and 18 through the lens of the Three Estates is probably different than the interpretations you have seen elsewhere, although likely complementary to most of them. It’s my belief that this most opaque book of the Bible was encrypted in the way it is in order to protect it, but also to hide its meaning until the time it needs to be revealed. As events unfold, the fog will begin to lift, we’ll see the connections of the book’s symbols with the real world. Then its meaning will become more clear.
Post Script: From C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity. “What Satan put into the heads of our remote ancestors was the idea that they could ‘be like gods’ – could set up on their own as if they had created themselves … invent some sort of happiness for themselves outside God, apart from God. And out of that hopeless attempt has come nearly all that we call human history – money, poverty, ambition, war, prostitution, classes, empires, slavery – the long terrible story of man trying to find something other than God which will make him happy.”

Smoking Flax and Bruised Reeds (Sabbath Thoughts)
Passover. It’s right around around the corner – the lynchpin on which hangs the crux of God’s entire plan of salvation. Very soon, we’ll be commemorating the death of our Savior – a death that, for us, opened the door to eternal life. The path to that night is never an easy one. In addition to Satan’s increased volleys against God’s people, we also face the emotionally taxing process of self-examination. We hold ourselves up to the standard of God’s word, we compare where we are to where we’ve been, and we measure our spiritual growth against the perfect model of our older Brother.
And if you’re anything like the rest of God’s people, you’ll find that you aren’t quite there yet. Because you’re weak. Because you’ve given in to temptations you thought you’d conquered. Because for every step forward, you can count too many steps back. Because you were hoping to be a roaring fire, and instead you feel like smoldering tinder. You look back on your shortcomings, your flaws, your sins, and you wonder how much more patience God could possibly have with you – how many more times He can possibly forgive you before deciding you just aren’t worth the effort.
These thoughts aren’t uncommon, and I think they’re one of the big reasons we need the Passover service every year – because it’s a reminder. A reminder that “while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). A reminder that He offered up His own life on our behalf “when we were still without strength” (Romans 5:6).
You weren’t worth the effort when Christ died for you. You just weren’t – not by any human standard. But He did it anyway, because He and God the Father love you. You have worth to Them – They want you in Their family forever, and so the Son of God willingly died to give you that opportunity. If They were willing to go through with that, do you think God is going to give up on you now just because it’s a harder road than you were expecting?
Sometimes I think we imagine God like the Greeks once imagined Zeus: lightning bolt held at the ready, just waiting for the smallest infraction to rain down punishment. But that isn’t the God we serve. While He certainly won’t abide a person or nation with a heart set on evil, He is also “not willing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9).
One of my favorite prophecies about Christ is from Isaiah: “A bruised reed He will not break, and smoking flax He will not quench” (Isaiah 42:3). How often is that us? How often are we a bruised reed, struggling just to keep ourselves upright? How often are we a piece of flax, lacking the strength to do anything but smolder? – pinned down under the weight of trials and our own sins, bruised and smoking instead of standing tall and shining brightly. But when our Brother sees us in that condition, He doesn’t walk by and snap us in half for being weak. He doesn’t snuff out our last dying ember because we’re struggling to keep our heads above the water.
Christ builds us up. When He sees us at our weakest – when our fire is burning low and we can’t find the strength to build it back up, Christ gives us what we need to keep going (Philippians 4:13). It’s the reason Paul wrote, “For when I am weak, then I am strong” (2 Corinthians 12:10). It’s the reason Christ Himself said, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). If all we have left is the smoldering hope of a flame, Christ is going to work with that.
So maybe you are weak right now. Maybe you are a bruised reed or smoking flax. But Christ is the same Christ who died for you when you didn’t deserve it. God is the same God who gave you His Holy Spirit as a down payment when you hadn’t earned it. And that’s what Passover is really, truly about – remembering the sacrifice of a Brother who came to reinforce the bruised reeds and give fuel to the smoking flax, and looking to the covenant we made with a Father who calls us His sons and daughters.
When you accepted the sacrifice that Passover reminds us of, you entered into a special relationship with your Creator. You’re not where you want to be yet; none of us are. But you have the covenant promise of a Father who told us, “I will never leave you nor forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5).
No, you’re not where you want to be, not yet – but that’s okay. God is going to get you there.

Ten Questions to ask before Passover (Sabbath Thoughts)
If I’m not careful, my pre-Passover self-examination can take a sharp turn into unhealthy territory. It’s so easy to see the failure. Where I am versus where I wanted to be. What I’ve overcome versus what I’m still struggling with. How much time I’ve had versus how much I’ve accomplished. A laundry list of weaknesses and inadequacies versus a few redeeming traits.
As Christians, we understand that growth is important. Growth is expected. We don’t sit where we are. We don’t bury the talent in the ground. God is expecting progress. It doesn’t take much for self-examination to turn into self-flagellation. Not good enough. Not far enough. Not strong enough. Not wise enough … but isn’t that the point?
The whole point of the Passover is to “proclaim the Lord’s death till He comes” (1 Corinthians 11:26). To honor and reflect on the sacrifice that paid the price for our inadequacies. What makes us think that, a year from now, we should be approaching this evening with all the kinks worked out? We won’t. We can’t. That’s not how this works.
Growth is important. We should pay attention to it. We should make a it a goal. We should be periodically measuring ourselves against our own spiritual growth chart and taking note of the ways we’ve changed. But we shouldn’t let it become the only thing that matters. It’s not.
This evening that’s fast approaching – it exists because we can never be good enough. No amount of growth, no track record of progress is enough to qualify us to become sons and daughters of God. From a human standpoint, there’s only one way we can approach the Passover evening: Inadequately.
If you disagree, answer me this: What amount of growth will make you feel qualified to eat the bread? Exactly how much spiritual progress do you need to feel entitled to drink the cup?
Passover is about more than saying, “Last year I was this tall, but now I’m this tall.” That’s important, but it’s not what the evening is about. It’s not about who we are and how far we’ve come; it’s about who Christ is and what He did. What He continues to do. Christ’s sacrifice is what allows you to walk into the room on Passover. Nothing else ever could.
Still, if you’re like me, it’s easy to fixate on the shortcomings – the unrealistic expectation – the “if I were a better Christian, I’d be at this level by now, but I’m not”. So instead, I’d like to offer you a handful of questions to incorporate into your self-examination this year. These aren’t questions that ask you to highlight how far you are from the goalpost you have in your mind – they’re questions to get you focused on the impact being a disciple of Jesus Christ has had in your life.
Over the course of the past year …
What are some specific ways God has shown you His love?
When have you been encouraged to “seek first the Kingdom?”
What passages of the Bible speak to you differently than they used to?
What moments made you grateful for God’s mercy?

What moments brought you to a deeper appreciation for God’s Word?

What scripture has offered you the most encouragement?
When has God’s grace given you hope and perspective?
What has been your biggest contribution to God’s Church?
What has the biggest blessing you’ve received from being part of God’s Church?
What part of your relationship with God is more important to you now than it was before?

Hopefully, the picture you see in answering those questions isn’t a measurement of the distance between you and perfection. Hopefully, it’s a painting of the beautiful way of life we’re all doing our best to live – and maybe even a reminder of why we’re living it in the first place.

Footnotes of Our Lives (Sabbath Thoughts)
I’m fascinated by the Bible characters we know next to nothing about. Euodia and Syntyche were two hard-working Christians who had trouble getting along (Philippians 4:2-3). Hymenaeus and Philetus were heretics whose message spread like cancer (2 Timothy 2:17-18). Jabez was a man determined not to cause pain to others (1 Chronicles 4:10). Enoch walked with God (Genesis 5:24). Rhoda was the girl who was so excited about Peter’s return from prison that she forgot to open the gate before running off to spread the news (Acts 12:13-14).
These characters were just footnotes in a much bigger story. We’re only given the briefest of glimpses into their lives before they disappear from the Biblical account forever, which is exactly what makes them so interesting. An innumerable multitude of individuals have played some role in the stories of the Bible, but the vast majority of them go unnamed and unacknowledged. What makes this handful of individuals so different? Why are we hearing their names? Why are we seeing parts of their stories?
The really sobering question, though, is this: What if I were one of those footnotes?
This isn’t ultimately a story about us; it’s a story about the greatest thing that’s ever been done in the whole history of the created universe. We’re just the lucky ones who got in on the ground floor – and while we each play a role in that story, it doesn’t mean we all get to be Peter or Paul with pages and pages written about our exploits.
I do have to wonder, though, if my life were reduced to a footnote in the Bible’s narrative, what would it say? That I was strong in the faith? That I held fast? Or that I made a habit of sticking my foot in my mouth and making poor decisions and causing my brethren to stumble? What kind of legacy am I leaving behind – even if it’s only a footnote?
When it’s all said and done, if our lives are worth mentioning at all, it’s either going to be as a positive example or as a cautionary tale. The decisions we’re making today, in the here-and-now, are pushing us toward one of those two possibilities.
So which is it? What kind of footnote is your life shaping up to be?
One of my favorite briefly-mentioned Biblical characters is Dorcas. By the time we’re introduced to her, she’s already dead – but her legacy isn’t. We discover she was “full of good works and charitable deeds” (Acts 9:36). God uses Peter to bring Dorcas back to life, and that’s the last we see of her. That’s Dorcas’s footnote in its entirety: Full of good works and charitable deeds, and a roomful of people eager to testify on her behalf. That’s beautiful. I’m glad my life isn’t an open book for others to peer into, and I’m glad my worst decisions aren’t visible to anyone with a Bible – but the fact is, we’re leaving footnotes, you and I. Footnotes for the people around us, footnotes for the people coming after us. It’s not a matter of “if”; it’s simply a matter of “what kind.”
I hope, when future generations look back on the footnotes of our lives, they see what we see when we look back at Dorcas: Good works. Charitable deeds.

Naomi Wolf and the Return of the Gods (Morning Companion)
If you have faith as a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you. (Matthew 17:20 NKJV)
In her recent Substack post entitled Have the Ancient Gods Returned? commentator Naomi Wolf expresses her dismay at how quickly the spirit of the age has changed:
Institutions turned overnight into negative mirror images of themselves, with demonic policies replacing what had been at least on the surface, angelic ones. Human-history change is not that lightning-fast.
She thought about this puzzling situation further and realized that perhaps there is something to the theory that the dark side to the spirit world is actively at work.
I could not explain the way the Western world simply switched from being based at least overtly on values of human rights and decency, to values of death, exclusion and hatred, overnight, en masse — without reference to some metaphysical evil that goes above and beyond fallible, blundering human agency.
She then relates how she came across the writings of a Messianic Jew whose theories provided a plausible explanation for the insanity we see around us, that “we have turned away from the Judeo-Christian God and thus we opened a door into our civilization for the negative spirits of ‘the Gods’ to re-possess us.”
Put differently, the “gods” are a return of spirits long ago dispatched to the fringe through the Judeo-Christian ethic, but now invited back into the mainstream through the abandonment of our rich monotheistic heritage.
Writes Ms. Wolf:
Pastor Cahn’s theme is that, because we have turned away from our covenant with YHWH — especially we in America, and we in the West, and especially since the 1960s — therefore, the ancient “Gods”, or rather, ancient pagan energies, that had been vanquished by monotheism and exiled to the margins of civilization and human activity — have seen an “open door”, and thus a ready home to re-occupy, in us.
She then quotes from Matthew’s Gospel:
“When an unclean spirit goes out of a man, he goes through dry places, seeking rest, and finds none. Then he says, ‘I will return to my house from which I came.’ And when he comes, he finds it empty, swept, and put in order. Then he goes and takes with him seven other spirits more wicked than himself, and they enter and dwell there; and the last state of that man is worse than the first. So shall it also be with this wicked generation.” (Matthew 12:43-45 NKJV)
Specifically, three false gods that once plagued the ancient world seem to have invaded our culture, all with destructive effects: Baal, (the god of fertility), Ashtaroth (the goddess of sexuality), and Moloch (the god of destruction).
The sheer amoral power of Baal, the destructive force of Moloch, the unrestrained seductiveness and sexual licentiousness of Astarte or Ashera — those are the primal forces that do indeed seem to me to have “returned.”
May I add that it is good to remember that it was to Moloch that the ancients sacrificed their children. Can we admit that some in our culture look upon the modern equivalent as a sacrament? 
Let’s theorize for a second that the suppositions of Naomi Wolf, Jonathan Cahn, and others are literally true. What if the pathologies we are seeing are in fact a push from the principalities and powers that Paul warns against in Ephesians 6? If that’s the case, we need to take a lesson from Jesus found in a in Matthew 17:14-21:
And when they had come to the multitude, a man came to Him, kneeling down to Him and saying, “Lord, have mercy on my son, for he is an epileptic and suffers severely; for he often falls into the fire and often into the water. So I brought him to Your disciples, but they could not cure him.”
Not long before this these same disciples had been sent out two by two and healed multitudes, including the casting out of evil spirits. Their gifts no longer worked, so the disciples asked,
“Why couldn’t we cast them out?” Jesus answered, “Because of your unbelief”.
What kind of “unbelief”, or “little faith” (ESV), could Jesus have been talking about? Jesus immediately reminds his disciples that, “if you have faith as a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you.” Jesus is saying that we don’t need mountains of faith to move mountains. We only need a tiny bit to move mountains. Apparently the disciples didn’t have even a mustard seed of faith at that time. Then Jesus says something that hits the mark:
However, this kind does not go out except by prayer and fasting.
Remember that boy’s ailment was to some extent demonic torment. The disciples, apparently, had been trying to work a miracle based on faith in their own power rather than faith in the power of God. Jesus reminds them that the battle is spiritual and that prayer and fasting (an act of extreme humility: see Ezra 8:21, Nehemiah 1:4, Psalm 35:13, among other passages) are important weapons in battling the onslaught. Put differently, battling the devil with pride in your heart puts you on their turf, which means you have already lost the battle.
Remember who the real Adversary is. The struggle is not against flesh and blood. The battle is a spiritual one, and we can’t bring back sanity by our own power alone. Withstand it, of course. Be strong and of good courage. Face the challenge. But in all your withstanding, all your strength, all your courage, all the challenge, rely on the power of the Most High for victory. Go forward in prayer and humility.

The Overclocked Christian (Sabbath Thoughts)
The Raspberry Pi is a $35 credit-card sized computer that programming hobbyists have used in some pretty spectacular projects. A quick search will pull up hundreds of guides explaining how to use a Pi as the brains of a homemade weather station, arcade cabinet, media server, security system, home automation hub, AI assistant, motorized garden enclosure, robot, and a dozen other projects that might interest you.
One of the more useful things you can do, especially if your project is taxing the limits of your Pi, is a little trick called “overclocking.” Overclocking is the process of taking a computer and pushing it a little harder than the manufacturer intended for it to go.
For the Raspberry Pi, it’s a relatively simple process – open the right text file, find the right numbers, and replace those numbers with bigger numbers. Voila. Restart the system, and you’re overclocked. A higher clock speed means your computer can chew through difficult tasks faster – which, depending on what you’re using the Pi for, can make a huge difference in what your project is capable of accomplishing.
But there’s a trade-off, of course. Otherwise the manufacturer would have the clock speed cranked up as high as it could go. Overclocking requires more power. More power produces more heat. More heat and faster speeds generally mean a shorter lifespan for the components involved. Besides all that, changing the manufacturer’s clock settings both voids the warranty and introduces an element of instability into the system. Even with a dedicated cooling system, there’s a non-zero chance that tweaking those settings will crash your operating system or fry something important. In the case of the Pi, we’re talking about an easily replaceable $35 computer. As far as taking risks goes, messing with the settings a little bit isn’t exactly a huge gamble.
But it’s possible to overclock more than computers. If you want, you can overclock yourself.
I think Martha was probably an overclocked Christian. At least, I think she was during the brief little window we get to see her the first time we see her in the gospels. Martha and her sister, Mary, were hosting Jesus in Martha’s house. “But Martha was distracted with much serving, and she approached Him and said, ‘Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Therefore tell her to help me’” (Luke 10:40).
Martha was focused on being a good host. She was focused intently on that. The Bible says she was distracted with much serving. How much? Enough to forget what really mattered in the moment. Jesus (gently, I imagine) responded, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her” (Luke 10:41).
Worried. Troubled. Distracted. I think we all know an overclocked Christian when we see one – especially because we all have the capacity to be an overclocked Christian.
Christ’s yoke is easy. His burden is light. When it’s not, there’s a good chance we’re overclocking ourselves – and the only thing we can accomplish with overclocking is unnecessary stress and inevitable burnout.
The Manufacturer set your clock speed where He did for a reason. Within those boundaries, you can be all the Christian you’ll ever need to be.

A Time to Choose (Morning Companion)
In 1946 an Italian immigrant named Frank Capra produced a movie that has become a classic tale about what is right with America. Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed starred in that story of a mythical town called Bedford Falls. When I moved to Lee’s Summit, Missouri some 30 years ago, I found a wonderful life here in my own Bedford Falls. It was a city of good neighbors, excellent schools, and responsible leadership. It was a growing community of neighborhoods and families. It was full of George Baileys committed to making our city into Hometown, USA.
Those 30 plus years since my move have seen many changes in this town, some good, some excellent, and some not so good. I’m blessed to live where I do, in this diverse, supportive neighborhood where neighbor still looks after neighbor.
But I am beginning to see more and more the shadows of Mr. Potter, where the desire for money and control — regardless of the consequences — is becoming more and more the focus at the expense of life style and the building of a caring community.
Where property values are more important than human values.
Where the enrichment of a few developers happens at the expense of the taxpayers.
Where our married children with their children cannot afford to build their homes in this town.
In Frank Capra’s classic film he portrayed two visions of his adopted homeland, a homeland he loved. He set before us the choice between Bedford Falls and Pottersville.
The Bedford Falls of George Bailey or the Pottersville motivated by power and the dollar.
The choice is before us: Bedford Falls or Pottersville?

When God is Silent (Sabbath Thoughts)
Between the last page of the Old Testament and the first page of the New sits about 400 years of silence. Four hundred years without a recorded prophet. Four hundred years without a message or a story or any kind of preserved word from God. For four hundred years, we have neither record nor rumor of God speaking to His people through the prophetic word.
Where was God during all this time? Had He finally given up on His people and His promises? Was this the end of the road for Israel and for the plan of God?
Thanks to the benefit of hindsight, we know the answers to those questions – but the people who lived during that 400 year span probably didn’t. Generations came and went, each likely filled with people wondering where God was and what He was doing. During that time, the remnant of Israel was subjugated again and again – by the Greeks, by the Egyptians, by the Syrians, and by the Romans. God, meanwhile, appears to have been silent.
If I had lived during that time, I suspect my conclusion would have felt obvious. God was done. Finished. Israel had faltered one too many times, and the world that had rejected God was on its own.
I would have been wrong, thankfully. God wasn’t done with the world at all. On the contrary, He was at work behind the scenes, shaping the world and guiding events until the time was right to set in motion the next part of His plan – a plan that He’d been working toward since before the foundation of the world. It took centuries before everything was in place, but “when the fullness of the time had come, God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, that we might receive the adoption as sons” (Galatians 4:4-5).
There’s a world of difference between silent and finished. In those four centuries of silence, no one knew what God was doing – in fact, all the way until the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, it still wasn’t completely clear what God was doing. But He was doing something, even when no one knew it. Even when no one could see it. Silence doesn’t mean God is standing still.
Easy lesson to learn; hard lesson to live. It’s in the moments of silence that we’re most desperate to hear God’s voice, most eager for confirmation that He’s listening to us and seeking our good.
But we don’t always get that – at least, not at the times and in the ways we want. Sometimes we cry out to God and hear nothing in response, and in those moments, it’s easy to feel deserted. Abandoned. It’s easy to wonder if God is done with us; if perhaps we’ve failed too many times for Him to still care about us. It’s easy to share in Christ’s anguish on the cross:
“My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” (Matthew 27:46).
Except God isn’t done with you – just like He isn’t done with Israel, either.
The Old Testament ends with a promise from God: “Behold, I will send you Elijah the prophet before the coming of the great and dreadful day of the Lord” (Malachi 4:5).
It took roughly four centuries before that promise was initially fulfilled by the ministry of John the Baptist (Matthew 11:13-15), but it happened. There was never the slightest chance of it not happening.
The New Testament likewise ends with a promise: “Surely I am coming quickly” (Revelation 22:20). Two thousand years later, we’re beginning to understand that “quickly” doesn’t mean what we thought it meant. The whole process is turning out to be longer and more involved than most of us anticipated. We’ve had to wait. And wait. And wait.
Just like those before us. Just like those before them. It’s a long chain of waiting, stretching from the present all the way back to that promise in Revelation. “Surely I am coming quickly.”
Just not today. And probably not tomorrow, either. Or the day after that.
In fact, in two thousand years, we’ve not had a single direct word from God. No new books of the Bible. No thunderings from Mount Sinai. No prophet with a divinely commissioned, “Thus sayeth the Lord.”
Is that reason to doubt God? Is it reason to assume He’s forgotten His promises and turned His back on us?
Instinctively, we know the answer to those questions. Of course not. Of course God is still working His plan out, just like He was between the Old and the New Testaments. We wouldn’t be running this race if we believed otherwise. We understand, like our forefathers did, that God is moving the pieces into place, and that it will happen in His perfect time:
“These all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off were assured of them, embraced them and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth” (Hebrews 11:13).
And that’s the key. God’s people see and cling to God’s promises. Even when they’re afar off. Even when God is quiet. The reality, the inevitability of those promises is enough to sustain them through the most difficult moments of their lives, because they know that even in the silence, God is busy. He’s getting things ready for “the fullness of time.”
And when He’s ready – when He pulls back that curtain and shows us what He’s been working on this entire time – we’ll say, “Of course. Of course it had to be this way. It could never have been anything else.”
That’s at the core of faith – not that God will grant our wishes like some genie in a bottle, but that He’ll do what’s best for us, when it’s best for us, and that eventually, it will all make perfect and beautiful sense.
And so it was by faith that Abel offered “a more excellent sacrifice” (Hebrews 11:4), even though it earned him the animosity of his brother and cost him his life. It was by faith that Noah loaded up his family on the ark and watched the water submerge his entire world (Hebrews 11:7).
It was by faith that Abraham “dwelt in the land of promise as in a foreign country” (Hebrews 11:8-9), and by faith that Sarah “received strength to conceive seed … because she judged Him faithful who had promised” (Hebrews 11:11).
Sometimes we look at faith as the ability to see the unseen, but I don’t know if that’s always the case. Sometimes – maybe often – I think faith is the ability to trust that God sees the unseen, even when we can’t. To hold onto the promises we’ve been given and trust that whatever God is doing in silence behind the curtain, it’s bringing us closer to where we need to be.
“But without faith it is impossible to please Him, for he who comes to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him” (Hebrews 11:6).
Even when He’s quiet. Even when we can’t see what He’s doing.
For 400 years, the Jews waited for the Elijah who was to come. For 2,000 years, the Church has been waiting for the return of our Lord and Savior. And during so many dark, trying moments in our own personal lives, we find ourselves waiting for some sign that God is still there; some sign that He has a plan; some sign that He cares.
Silence doesn’t mean God is standing still. That doesn’t make it easy or comfortable or enjoyable. But it is a reason to hold onto hope and faith even when everything around us is screaming to let go.
He who testifies to these things says, “Surely I am coming quickly.” Amen. Even so, come, Lord Jesus! (Revelation 22:20)

The Reset (Sabbath Thoughts)
Some weeks, I don’t want the Sabbath. I don’t want to stop. There’s too much to do, or else I’m in the middle of a project I’m excited about. Putting it all down, hitting pause for 24 hours – if I’m being honest, there are times when that thought is more frustrating than exciting. But even then – even on the weeks when my human nature resents having to stop – I can’t think of a single week when I haven’t needed the Sabbath. It’s a reset, hard-coded into the DNA of the world itself.
“Then God blessed the seventh day and sanctified it, because in it He rested from all His work which God had created and made” (Genesis 2:3).
Not just that first Sabbath day, but all Sabbath days, forever into the future. A day to stop. And not a day we can stop. A day we must stop. More than that – a day we need to stop. God knows when we need to stop. He made us, and then He made the Sabbath day for us (Mark 2:27). Can we physically survive working through one or two Sabbaths? Oh, absolutely. The majority of the world hasn’t stopped for a single Sabbath of their lives. But we wouldn’t gain what we might expect from that. We wouldn’t end up with extra time. We’d lose important spiritual time instead. The reset is a gift.
The week is ending; the creative work is on hold; we’re disconnecting from the world and strengthening our connection to the Creator of the world. The forced stop is a privilege we don’t deserve. Without it, we probably would keep working on whatever urgent project demanded our attention in that moment, repeating the process week after week, over and over, until …
Until what? Where does all that work ultimately get us? Not to a place that matters in the context of eternity. Instead …
If you turn away your foot from the Sabbath, From doing your pleasure on My holy day,
And call the Sabbath a delight, The holy day of the LORD honorable,
And shall honor Him, not doing your own ways, Nor finding your own pleasure,
Nor speaking your own words, Then you shall delight yourself in the LORD;
And I will cause you to ride on the high hills of the earth,
And feed you with the heritage of Jacob your father.
The mouth of the Lord has spoken. (Isaiah 58:13-14)
The New International Commentary on the Old Testament has a great reflection on the beauty of this passage:
Here we cease our work and remind ourselves that it is God who supplies our needs, not we. Here we re-orient the compasses of our spirits to the true north of God’s gracious character, remembering as we give one-seventh of our time to him and his concerns that all our time is his. For those who approach the Sabbath in this way, the day is a precious gift (the sense of ʿōneg, delight, v.13). It is a special day, a holy one, to be guarded jealously, not because God will destroy us if we lift a pencil or throw a ball, but because here we have another chance to remind ourselves about what matters and what does not, about what passes away and what survives, about the fact that all we are and have is his, a gift freely given and freely to be returned to the Giver. (John N. Oswalt, The Book of Isaiah, Chapters 40-66, p.508-509)
What matters and what does not. What passes away and what survives.
A gift, freely given from God to us. Have a wonderful reset, family.

The Feet of Your Enemy (Sabbath Thoughts)
Jesus washed Judas’s feet.
He knew how the evening would unfold. He knew His disciple of three and a half years was about to betray Him into the hands of sinners – wicked men who would ensure He died one of the cruelest deaths any human could inflict on another. What’s more, He had known all this since day one.
“For Jesus knew from the beginning who they were who did not believe, and who would betray Him … ‘Did I not choose you, the twelve, and one of you is a devil?’” (John 6:64, 70).
Jesus picked Judas, knowing their relationship would culminate in His crucifixion. Knowing he would become a willing tool in the hands of Satan. Knowing that this man was going to prove himself to be a liar, a deceiver, and a thief.
Jesus washed his feet anyway.
There wasn’t any hope of redemption in the act. It didn’t change what was about to happen. Watching the Creator of the universe perform the duties of a servant didn’t make him rethink what he was doing.
Jesus washed his feet anyway.
There, wrapped up in that single act, is so much of what it means to follow in the footsteps of Jesus Christ. So much of where I fall short.
Jesus had already told His disciples the rules for this kind of situation. Now He was showing them what it looked like to live it.
“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven; for He makes His sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward have you? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet your brethren only, what do you do more than others? Do not even the tax collectors do so? Therefore you shall be perfect, just as your Father in heaven is perfect” (Matthew 5:43–48).
In spite of it all, Jesus loved Judas. He didn’t love what he was doing. He wasn’t deciding not to hold him accountable for his sins. But He did wash his feet. Jesus loved him the way God loves all of us.
“God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8).
It didn’t matter that Judas ultimately rejected that love. It didn’t matter that Jesus knew that Judas would reject it. Jesus still gave him the same opportunity – the same love – that He gave the other disciples.
Love – service – laying down our lives – that’s a fairly easy thing to do when the feeling is mutual.
I wonder if I could have done it. I wonder if I could have got down on my knees and washed the feet of the man I knew was about to facilitate my death. I don’t think I could have. I think I would have told Judas to wait outside until I was finished with the others. I think I would have stared daggers at him the entire evening.
Which is why Jesus is God and I’m not. I’m still working on developing the kind of love that can do that – the kind of love that can kneel down and show undeserved kindness to my enemies – the ones who hate me, curse me, and spitefully use me.
One day, God willing, I’ll have it. But until then, I’m grateful God already does.

Jonah Went Down (Sabbath Thoughts)
From the moment Jonah chooses to run from God, he begins a spiritual downward spiral. The author of the book highlights that spiral in the way he narrates the story. As soon as Jonah decides to flee, the story says he “went down to Joppa” (Jonah 1:3). After paying the fare for a ship, he “went down into it” (verse 3). As the storm sent from God begins to tear the ship apart, Jonah is missing in action – because he “had gone down into the lowest parts of the ship, had lain down, and was fast asleep” (verse 5). And after the sailors throw him overboard to put an end to the storm, Jonah finds himself drifting “down to the moorings of the mountains” (Jonah 2:6).
The narrator doesn’t mention Jonah moving upward again until he reaches his lowest point – literally and metaphorically. Even then, it’s God who does the moving. Inside the great fish, Jonah acknowledges God as the one who “brought up my life from the pit” (verse 6). God picked Jonah back up – even when he didn’t deserve it. Even when he had spent most of the story actively resisting it.
And in the end, that’s what the book is a about. Mercy – undeserved and desperately needed. Without mercy, Jonah dies at the bottom of the sea. Without mercy, Nineveh gets blasted off the map in a show of divine fury.
But it’s also a reminder that when we flee from God, we drag ourselves down. Step by step, one degree at a time, we begin to submerge ourselves into disaster.
We can count on God to show us the mercy we need to get back on track – to even extend His hand and give us a boost – and that’s wonderful. None of us would be here if it weren’t for that incredible aspect of God’s character. We should be grateful for it and comforted by it.
But I think the other big lesson of Jonah is this: Life is easier when we don’t run.

Making the Leaps (Sabbath Thoughts)
Growth is turbulent. That’s what I’ve discovered in my time as a parent.
Mary and I have three – three! – kids now, and I’ve watched this truth play out over and over again. The turbulence, from our perspective, always feels like it comes out of the blue. We find a rhythm, we establish habits, we have a system that works, things make sense – and then, without warning, chaos. Sleep schedules go topsy-turvy. Moods fluctuate rapidly between wild extremes. Everything in the world is either hilarious or devastating or infuriating. Tasks that were second nature yesterday become nightmarish challenges today. There are tears. Confusion. Frustrations. Screams. Misunderstandings. Clashes of wills.
Right about the time that Mary and I start looking out the window to check for a full moon or maybe the apocalypse, we notice it: The Change™.
By definition, the Change™ is always something new, so it’s hard to spot. But the seeds of it are always there, in the midst of the chaos. Something is different – the way they move, the way they’re thinking through things, the words they’re using. They’re growing. In developmental psychology, these moments are often called “leaps” – the rapid acquisition of a new set of skills, which ultimately result in a new way of seeing the world.
That’s the important bit. These aren’t just fancy new party tricks. Developing object permanence changes the way you see the world. Realizing a string of motions can be connected to a single action changes the way you see the world. Refining your depth perception changes the way you see the world. Understanding cause and effect changes the way you see the world. Learning to walk changes the way you see the world. Learning to verbalize your thoughts changes the way you see the world.
And it doesn’t just change the way you see it – it changes the way you exist in it. Each of those milestones changes the way you interact with the world – forever.
There’s a reason all these leaps are accompanied by chaos. They’re hard. They are, quite literally, life-changing. They fundamentally alter the way our brains are wired. They change what we perceive, what we understand. They throw our internal world into chaos – it only makes sense that the stress, the uncertainty, the newness of it all would spill over into our external world, too. I’m learning to be patient when these leaps crop up. I try to remember how I’d want to be treated if the inner workings of my world suddenly became unfamiliar and intimidating. Not that it’s easy. Sometimes I’m holding back my own shouts and screams and tears. Sometimes I want to grab their shoulders and ask what in the world they were thinking. But of course, that’s the point. Their brains are developing. Their thinking isn’t defensible. It’s all a bit of a murky soup, and they’re trying their best.
When the tough days start clumping together, I start looking for The Change™. I start trying to peer beyond the symptoms so I can understand what’s really going on and how I can help make the process easier.
I think being a Christian is a lot like being a kid. The same way a child’s mind has all this neuroplasticity – the same way it’s designed to tackle these enormous cognitive leaps at specific intervals as it matures – God’s Spirit also provides us with the potential for incredible change and growth.
But it’s hard. We want growth to be a perfect, predictable upward slope, but it’s not. Spiritual growth turns our world upside down. It’s uncomfortable. It’s a little scary. It forces us to see, to exist in the world differently. It makes it hard to react the way we ought to react or say the things we ought to say. Thankfully, our perfect Father in heaven is patient with us – more patient than we can be with our own kids sometimes. I’m glad for that. If I were in God’s shoes, I would have lost my cool with myself many, many times.
But “the Lord … is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance” (2 Peter 3:9, ESV). He gives us time to make sense of a spiritual way of thinking that is constantly unfolding into something bigger and grander before our very eyes – not that the way itself is changing, but that our perception of it is. Our understanding changes. We change. We grow.
Being a parent is without a doubt the most rewarding, exhausting, exciting, terrifying, gratifying, fantastically wonderful adventure I have ever been on in my life. I think about what my three kids were capable of when they came into this world, and I step back and compare that with what they’re capable of now, and it boggles my mind. Even Oliver, not two months old yet, has been growing and changing in amazing ways. Learning to focus his eyes. Learning to observe. Learning to listen.
Peter just figured out how to jump with two feet. He’s starting to put strings of words together. “Not hot!” “Hold Mama!” “Tag you, Prim Prim!” “Awwwww, baby cute!” He’s mastering all sorts of motor skills and even working on some elements of self-control.
And Prim … where to begin with Prim? I sit down and have conversations with her. She asks for explanations and understands most of them. She makes logical connections I haven’t even considered. She dresses herself, brushes her teeth, points out shapes and numbers and words, and has a list of things she’s excited to do when Jesus comes back to the earth. (Fly to Grandma’s house is somewhere at the top.)
Then I think about where they are now and where they will be one day, and my head just spins. There’s so much growth ahead of them still. So many changes. So many leaps to push through. All of it part of the process that God designed when He shaped us from the dust.
My point is – that is to say, if I have a point – which I think I do – is this:
The God who knows what it takes for little children to grow in a physical sense knows what it takes for you to grow in a spiritual sense. He is patient. He is kind. He loves you and He wants to see you grow.
The days that are frustrating, the days that don’t make sense, the days when you want to scream and yell and cry and laugh all at once, the days when the world you know is collapsing on itself – these days are part of the process. They’re not fun. They’re exhaustingly difficult. But those days are reminders that you’re moving forward – that you’re not stagnant. If we began and ended our journey as spiritual babes (1 Peter 2:2), there would be no challenge, no difficult moments – no growth. The world would always look the same to us, because our understanding of it would never improve.
No, our job is to keep on growing “to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ, so that we may no longer be children. “Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ” (Ephesians 4:13, 15).
The leaps are scary. The leaps don’t always make sense while they’re happening. But when we “let patience have its perfect work,” we allow God to help us to become a little more like our big Brother, “that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing” (James 1:4).
Growth is turbulent. The leaps are hard. But in the end, it’s the leaps that take us where we need to go. Even when they feel like chaos – even when they turn our world upside down – remember that things are going to make a whole lot more sense on the other side.

The Third Commandment (Morning Companion)
You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain, for the Lord will not hold him guiltless who takes his name in vain. (Exodus 20:7 NKJV)
Dennis Prager explains this commandment as follows:
Is there such a thing as a worst sin? Apparently there is and this is it. How do we know? Because it is the only one of the Ten Commandments whose violation God says He will not forgive – “The Lord will not hold him guiltless” (literally, “God will not cleanse” the one who violates this commandment.) (Quoted from Prager’s Rational Bible commentary, Exodus: God Slavery and Freedom, page 245)
What Prager relates bears a striking similarity to what Jesus said when He spoke of blasphemy against the Holy Spirit: 
“Therefore I say to you, every sin and blasphemy will be forgiven men, but the blasphemy against the Spirit will not be forgiven men. Anyone who speaks a word against the Son of Man, it will be forgiven him; but whoever speaks against the Holy Spirit, it will not be forgiven him, either in this age or in the age to come.” (Matthew 12:31-32 NKJV)
Many have speculated about this sin that “will not be forgiven”. Prager supplies an interesting take from his Orthodox Jewish perspective:
[T]his sin that is unforgiveable … can only be understood if we translate the verb of this commandment literally. Do not “take” is not what the commandment actually says. The Hebrew verb in the commandment, tisa, means “carry”. The commandment therefore reads, “Do not carry God’s name in vain.”
And who carries God’s name in vain? Any person who claims to be acting in God’s name while doing the opposite of what God wants — evil. Obvious modern examples would include Islamist terrorists who shout, Allahu Akbar (“God is the Greatest”) when they murder innocent people; or a priest or any other clergy who, utilizing the respect engendered by his clerical status, molests a child. There is little question Islamist terrorists and molesting clergy have both played a role of the rise of atheism in our time.” (Ibid)
That reflects Jesus’s words as quoted by Luke:
It is impossible that no offenses should come, but woe to him through whom they do come! It would be better for him if a millstone were hung around his neck, and he were thrown into the sea, than that he should offend one of these little ones. (Luke 17:1-2)
Considering the irreparable and irreversible harm being perpetrated on vulnerable children these days in the name of God or Science, blood should be running cold in some veins.
When Jesus made his statement about the unpardonable sin, He was speaking directly to the religious leaders of the day who were accusing him of being a tool of the devil. Apparently, Jesus perceived that something beyond merely a false accusation was behind their words. At the very least, they probably knew better than to say such things, because Nicodemus himself admitted that “we know that you are teacher come from God, for no one can do these things you do unless God is with him” (John 3:2). Accusing Jesus of sorcery as the religious leaders did Matthew 12 when the signs clearly pointed otherwise was certainly doing evil in God’s name.
As his final word on the subject, Prager goes on to say:
No atheist activist is nearly as effective in alienating people from God and religion as are evil “religious” people.
As noted, the Hebrew word y’nakeh (“hold guiltless”) literally means “cleanse”. Essentially God is saying if anyone dirties God’s name, God will never cleanse that person’s name.

Driving Like Jehu (Sabbath Thoughts)
Imagine having a driving style so unique, so identifiably yours that someone could spot you from a mile away. Jehu had that.
When he led his insurrection against the kings of Israel and Judah, the watchman at the town of Jezreel recognized him from an incredible distance away. He shouted his report: “The driving is like the driving of Jehu the son of Nimshi, for he drives furiously!” (2 Kings 9:20).
Well, sort of. The Berean Standard Bible translates that final Hebrew word a little more accurately: “And the charioteer is driving like Jehu son of Nimshi—he is driving like a madman!”
Jehu didn’t drive angrily. He drove like a man who had lost his mind.
I don’t know what that translates to in terms of actual chariot-driving technique – but the watchman sure did. He knew it instinctively – long before he could see Jehu’s appearance or hear his voice, he knew. Only Jehu the son of Nimshi drives like that. Who else could it be?
How do you drive your chariot?
Jehu had a reputation for driving his like a man who was no longer in control of his mental faculties. That’s probably not the reputation you want. But that little detail is a reminder – there are qualities about each of us that make it easy for others to spot us a mile away. It’s not always the things we say or the way we look – more often than not, it’s the way we navigate through life. The way we drive our chariots.
Peter begged the Church, “as sojourners and pilgrims, abstain from fleshly lusts which war against the soul, having your conduct honorable among the Gentiles, that when they speak against you as evildoers, they may, by your good works which they observe, glorify God in the day of visitation” (1 Peter 2:11-12).
Drive your chariot knowing that you’ll be seen by others – not as a madman, crashing your way from one dumpster fire of a decision to the next, but as someone leaving a trail of good works in your wake. Do so much good that, when people who don’t know God try to accuse you of being an evildoer, they actually wind up with a reason to praise God when He arrives on the earth.
The one thing it’s hard to do in a chariot is drive in obscurity. You might not be the most famous driver – the one people recognize immediately, instinctively. But you’re going to be noticed. One way or another, you are going to leave an impact on the lives of others. The kind of impact you leave comes down to the kind of driver you are.
There are chariot drivers who make us grateful they passed through our lives, and there are chariot drivers who make us wish they had driven somewhere – anywhere – else.
Jehu’s driving style is a footnote in a much bigger story – but it is a reminder that our actions and reputation travel farther and faster than we ever could. You have the reins. Where will you drive your chariot? And, just as importantly, how will you drive on the way there?

Our Planned Future (New Horizons)
Armed conflict disrupts the lives of millions of earth’s populace – though ‘the West’ has been blessed with more than half a century of relative tranquillity, with a welcome rise in living standards. But inequalities persist, and world leaders are behind the scenes planning radical change, change that will affect all of mankind.
Our track record down the centuries, however, raises a red warning flag. After six millennia of civilisation governments have utterly failed to implement utopia: ‘the way of peace they have not known’. For every ‘solution’ is undermined by human nature and scorn for foundation principles.
Civilisation – and its governing laws – is formulated on the basis of majority opinion driven (despite democratic elections!) by those who wield power – overtly or from behind the scenes. Their agenda, however, sprouts from fallen human nature – which cannot discern right from wrong. To discern right from wrong demands a recognizable universal standard based on the divine ‘law of love’ as summarized in all ten of God’s guiding principles.
The imposition of the humanly devised standards has now devolved to a global level, with the ‘United Nations’ and its covert sponsors dictating the agenda for all nations from behind closed doors, with national governments, local councils – and the public – as enforcement pawns.
Our new rulers present their agenda as benign paternal leadership dedicated to the welfare of all mankind. Their clearly stated plan can be summed up as ‘net zero by 2050’, with implementation of most measures by 2030:
A laudable end to destructive air and water and agricultural pollution. An end to poverty and recurring pandemics and to the housing shortage.
Sounds good! The shock comes, as always, in the detail.
Public transport replaces cars. Air and sea travel curtailed. Food and water rationed. Meat banned. Animal husbandry eliminated. Hi-tech GM food. ‘Smart’ cities. Reliance on (fragile) internet technology. A cashless society. Behavioural monitoring via intrusive surveillance on out smartphones and TVs, Alexa, cctv etc.
But such aims can be achieved only by coercion. Indeed plans for this are well advanced as digital IDs are being imposed and an army of ‘hit squads’ recruited to monitor our spending, behaviour, our recycling, our eating habits, our travel.
Such humanist attempts to solve man’s challenges reject our Creator and His guidance. Man was created as a perfect, rational, sentient being created from earth’s elements but with an in-built guiding spirit (the ‘spirit in man’) and described as being ‘in the image of God’ (Genesis 1:27). His purpose is we become, through our life experiences, restored to that character image.
Our ‘operating system’ was ahab, agape – love, total harmony with the divine mind, the force that maintains our relationship with the Father and keeps us on the straight and narrow. Our rejection of that pathway (‘sin’) and our dependence on distorted human reasoning required the direct intervention of the God-head: ’God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that everyone believing into Him should not perish, but have everlasting life ‘(John 3:16).
It is ’the way of the world’ – a world rejected by those who are ‘in Christ: ‘Who but the man that believes that Jesus is the Son of God overcomes the world?’ (I John 5:5). Our mission as Christians is to ‘walk as Jesus walked’ – to overcome the world and its ways, as did our Saviour: ‘I have spoken these things to you that you may have peace in Me. You have distress in the world; but be encouraged, I have overcome the world’ (John 16:33).
Much of society presently stumbles through a fog of fear – fear of a virus, fear of hospitals, fear of touching something, fear of being locked up for a so-called ’violation’ of an edict, fear of climate change.
But that’s not for us, for ‘There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear: because fear has torment. He that fears is not made perfect in love’. Paul adds: ‘So that we may boldly say, The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall do unto me’ (Hebrews 13:6).

Marty’s #1 Rule (Morning Companion)
I first met Marty in the early days of my chosen career. I was new at the firm, and Marty was a well-seasoned, soon-to-be retired, straight-shooting salesman. His decades of sales experience taught him an important #1 ethical lesson: When talking to a potential customer, don’t tell him what’s wrong with your competitor’s product. Tell him what’s right with yours. Th
at bit of wisdom is exactly what Paul did in Athens when he was asked to present before the scholars at the great debating forum called the Areopagus*. Paul applies Marty’s Rule. Instead of attacking their paganism and false beliefs, he complimented them on their search for truth, building on this trait to show that his God was the God whose existence their poets acknowledged but did not understand, and that this “Unknown” God offered the promise of eternal life to everyone.
Paul was so effective in his presentation that a number of these great thinkers became believers.
I keep the seventh-day Sabbath. When people ask me why, I refrain from telling them that Sunday was originally the pagan day of worship of the sun god. Instead I tell them how God instituted the Sabbath at creation, that Jesus kept the Sabbath, and the blessings that day bestows when we dedicate that space in time to the things of God, family, and fellow believers.
I also keep the Holy Days as outlined in the Bible. Rather than telling people that the days they keep are pagan in origin, I speak of the beauty of the message that the Biblical days teach because they reveal God’s plan for each one of us.
In this way I’m telling them what’s right about God’s “product”. What’s wrong with the competing “product” can come later.
I’m sure Marty would approve of this.
* Acts 17:16-32

Whiter Than Snow (Sabbath Thoughts)
I wonder how long David hated himself for what he did to Uriah. I wonder how long it took for him to be able to look at Bathsheba without thinking immediately of the man whose death he ordered and the child God took from him in response.
We don’t know. The Bible doesn’t say. What we do see are the words of an emotionally and spiritually broken king, throwing himself upon God’s mercy and begging for forgiveness. “Do not cast me from your presence,” pleaded David, “and do not take from me your Holy Spirit” (Psalm 51:11).
David knew the road he was on, because he had watched Saul walk it before him. It was a road of self-justification and excuses; it was a road upon which genuine repentance could never set foot. David had come dangerously close to following his predecessor’s footsteps – but when brought face-to-face with the truth of his own ugly heart, David chose a different road.
“Have mercy upon me, O God,” he begged. “For I acknowledge my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me” (Psalm 51:1,3).
We don’t know how many sleepless nights David spent tormented by his own terrible actions, but the man we see in Psalm 51 is a man who could not, would not, attempt to reason away his sins before God. He chose a path contrary to human nature – he took ownership of his wrong doing and repented.
But David asked for more than mercy and forgiveness in this psalm:
Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean. Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow. Make me hear joy and gladness, that the bones You have broken may rejoice. Hide Your face from my sins, and blot out all my iniquities. Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. (Psalm 51:7-10)
It’s snowing as I write this – has been for several hours. The world outside my window is blanketed in sheets of white. It’s a peaceful scene – with the occasional exception of a solitary car making a cautious descent down the road, my little town is all hunkered down for the night, while a curtain of pure white snowflakes gently covers the ground. That’s the beautiful thing about a snowfall. For a few precious hours before that white carpet is sullied by muddy footprints and vehicle sludge, the whole world is peaceful. Pure. Untainted.
And that’s what David was asking for: a clean slate. David, the man whose hands were stained red with the blood of one of his most faithful servants; David, whose heart had been blackened by the sins of lust and adultery; David, whose outright disregard for the law of God had damaged his kingdom in a way that would last until it was carted off into captivity – that David was asking to be restored to purity, to become once again a man after God’s own heart (1 Samuel 13:14).
Mainstream Christianity loves the word “grace”. It’s one of their favorites to use, and one of their least favorite to define. And because we know that God hasn’t done away with His perfect law, hearing a word so burdened with false doctrines and misconceptions makes it easy for us to swerve from one ditch and into another – to focus so heavily on what we need to be doing that we start to overlook what is impossible for us to do. We can become so focused on refuting some of the lies that others have built upon the doctrine of grace that the idea of grace itself can make us uneasy.
The epistle of Galatians was written to a very sincere, but very misguided, group of first century Christians. These men and women of God had become so focused on the importance of keeping God’s law that they had forgotten its function. They had begun to believe that keeping the law itself was enough to earn them salvation. Paul reprimands them by asking, “O foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you that you should not obey the truth, before whose eyes Jesus Christ was clearly portrayed among you as crucified? This only I want to learn from you: Did you receive the Spirit by the works of the law, or by the hearing of faith? Are you so foolish? Having begun in the Spirit, are you now being made perfect by the flesh?” (Galatians 3:1-3). He continued, reminding them that “no one is justified by the law in the sight of God” (Galatians 3:11).
God never negated His law, and Paul never attempts to explain it away in Galatians. If that were true, what need would there be for repentance? Rather, what Paul wanted the Galatians (and us!) to understand is that no amount of perfect law keeping today will blot out a sin committed yesterday. Only one thing can do that – the very word we tend to shy away from because of its man-made connotations, Grace.
Grace, the unmerited pardon available to use through repentance and the sacrifice of Jesus Christ. Grace, a gift given from the goodness of the giver without regard to the worthiness of the recipient. Grace cannot be earned, cannot be purchased, cannot be worked for.
Grace is what David was praying for in Psalm 51. He knew that no amount of future righteousness could cleanse him of his present iniquities. There was nothing he could do to remove the spiritual stains for which he was responsible … but there was something God could do, and did do. We know from the prophet Ezekiel that David will be once again be the king of a resurrected Israel in the future (Ezekiel 37:24), and we also know that God would not put an unrepentant leader in that position.
Do you want a clean heart? Do you want a renewed and steadfast spirit? Do you want to be whiter than snow? Well, there’s nothing you can do to make those things a reality. Keep every jot and tittle of the law without flaw for the rest of your life and you’ll never succeed in erasing the stains of your past actions.
God, however, can. When we repent of our sins, when we seek God’s help in changing our course, when we ask Him to wash away our past missteps with the blood of our elder Brother, He will do those things. Whatever our past transgressions, whatever sins are ever before us, our Creator stands ready and willing to wash us whiter than snow. He promises us, “Come now, and let us reason together,” says the Lord, “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red like crimson, they shall be as wool.” (Isaiah 1:18)
God’s law is just as valid today as the day He created mankind. We are still required to obey it. But it’s not like balancing a checkbook; we don’t make up for breaking the law by just keeping it really well in the future. No, “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9).
None of us go through life perfectly. We all stumble, we all falter, and we are all powerless to remove the stains those transgressions leave behind.
But God isn’t. By the grace of God, we can find forgiveness. We can overcome our shortcomings. We can be whiter than snow. But first, we have to ask.

The Good Old Days of Religious Music (Morning Companion)
Why, do you suppose, were the old hymns so much better than most modern praise and worship music?
There is a little something known as survivorship bias, where the best in a class, whether music or literature or any of the arts, get passed on to the following generations, while the sub-par are flung into a cultural limbo. This happens even among the masters.
Beethoven, as one example, composed almost 130 works, but we are familiar with maybe a dozen. Some of his works were masterpieces (5th Symphony, 9th Symphony, Egmont, etc.), but some were so poorly composed that they exist only in some archives somewhere and are never performed. We think of Beethoven as a musical genius (and he was), but only his good stuff has survived the test of time.
It’s the same with hymns and worship music. The oldies we love are the ones that have survived, and they have survived because they were good. Hundreds and hundreds of hymns (you can find them in old, old hymnals) did not make it through the gauntlet of time because they simply were mediocre at best. We just don’t know about them because they are lost in the files.
It will be the same with much of our modern stuff. The really good pieces will survive, but most of it will disappear.
For fun’s sake, here are some lyrics from an old hymn from 1919 — The Royal Telephone. Go to this link for the full lyrics: The Royal Telephone:
Telephone to glory, oh, what joy divine!
I can feel the current moving on the line,
Built by God the Father for His loved and own,
We may talk to Jesus through this royal telephone.
Safe to say, that’s one hymn that didn’t make the historical cut.

What We Do In The Storms (Sabbath Thoughts)
I will always have a lot of respect for Job.
He catches a lot of flak for his behavior toward the end of the book, and it turns out, yes, when you’re at the lowest point of your life and dealing with three insensitive and unhelpful “friends”, some character defects are going to rise to the top. It’s inevitable. But I think leaving the camera zoomed in on those failures gives us an incomplete picture of who Job was.
To me, the verse that really defines Job’s character is in the very first chapter. A flood of messengers rush in to tell Job the worst possible news: He’s lost everything.
His possessions are gone. His children are dead. In a single moment, he transitioned from “the greatest of all the people of the East” (Job 1:3) to the most pitiable. So what does he do?
He tears his robe, shaves his head, then falls to the ground and worships: Naked I came from my mother’s womb, And naked shall I return there.
The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; Blessed be the name of the Lord. (Job 1:21)
Where does a response like that come from? Not the heat of the moment; I can tell you that. You don’t lose nearly everything you hold dear and then decide to turn around and praise God. It doesn’t work like that.
The decision to praise God in the storms of life comes before the storm, not during.
It’s something we chose to do before things get bad – a choice we make in advance when we understand who God is and what He means to us. Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah made the choice to obey God at all costs long before Nebuchadnezzar was threatening to throw them into the fire. Peter and the other disciples knew whose opinion of them mattered long before the Sanhedrin tried to browbeat them into submission. Stephen knew what was worth saying long before his life was on the line.
The decision, the attitude, the mindset – it comes first. Storms will come. They’re inevitable. Inescapable. What we’ll do when the next one hits depends on the decisions we’re making right now, in this moment.
When the winds start picking up, it’s probably too late to change course.

Did God Really Tell You That? (Morning Companion)
Prove all things; hold fast to that which is good. (I Thessalonians 5:21 KJV)
Test all things; hold fast what is good. (I Thessalonians 5:21 NKJV)
In every election cycle I hear candidates claiming that they are running for office because they believe God told them to. Though it would be improper for me to question one’s personal relationship with the Almighty, I do think it is prudent to ask whether they were hearing the voice of God or the voice of subconscious which they merely thought was the voice of God. Maybe losing a bid for office once or twice or a half dozen times answers that question. Or maybe not.
Regardless, how can we know if we are doing God’s will when we get that nudge to act? Is it the Spirit of God or the spirit of Lenny that motivates me forward? We can start with the quote at the top of this essay: “Prove (or test) all things.” “Prove” in this verse carries the sense of putting something to a test. Jesus spoke of a man who had a yoke of oxen that he wanted to “prove” (Luke 14:19 KJV). That meant taking the oxen into the field to test them, to try them out as good plow animals. It was a matter of proving them by experience and results.
A wonderful example of this is found in Genesis 24, where a servant of Abraham is tasked with finding a bride for Abraham’s son Isaac. We surmise from the narrative that the servant is unsure how to go about it, so he prays the following:
“O Lord God of my master Abraham, please give me success this day, and show kindness to my master Abraham. Behold, here I stand by the well of water, and the daughters of the men of the city are coming out to draw water. Now let it be that the young woman to whom I say, ‘Please let down your pitcher that I may drink,’ and she says, ‘Drink, and I will also give your camels a drink’—let her be the one You have appointed for Your servant Isaac. And by this I will know that You have shown kindness to my master.” (Genesis 24:12-14 NKJV)
Soon enough a young woman comes to the well and everything unfolds just the way the servant asked, but notice how he reacts to this. I submit he models an excellent example:
And the man, wondering at her, remained silent so as to know whether the Lord had made his journey prosperous or not. So it was, when the camels had finished drinking, that the man took a golden nose ring weighing half a shekel, and two bracelets for her wrists weighing ten shekels of gold, and said, “Whose daughter are you? Tell me, please, is there room in your father’s house for us to lodge? (Verses 21-23 NKJV, Emphasis added)
The servant knew better than to simply take everything at face value. He was looking for confirmation that this was an answer to his prayer. He did not assume anything at first blush. He waited, he observed, and he asked questions. Only after satisfactory confirmation did he accept that he was acting within God’s will.
May I suggest we do the same when looking for answers to prayer. Sometimes we want something so badly that we grab the first bubble that floats our way. Go for the bubble if you must. If it bursts, it bursts, but at least you’ll know.

It’s All Borrowed Time (Sabbath Thoughts)
“He’s living on borrowed time.”
He cheated fate, in other words. He used up the days allotted to him, came up against the moment that should have ended his life, and kept on living. From here on out, it’s borrowed time – minutes, days, maybe even years that he was never entitled to, never knowing when it might end.
Except that’s not really true, is it? The idea that we have a set amount of time that we’re inherently entitled to – where did it come from? When we say someone was “taken before their time,” what are we implying?
The truth is more uncomfortable than all of that. David wrote:
Lord, make me to know my end, and what is the measure of my days,
that I may know how frail I am. Indeed, You have made my days as handbreadths, and my age is as nothing before You. Certainly every man at his best state is but vapor. (Psalm 39:4-5)
Translation: It’s all borrowed time. Every bit of it. Starting from day one, you aren’t making withdrawals from your own personal time bank – you’re getting the moments God gives you, and nothing more.
That’s true for all of us. It’s true for the cancer survivor and for the man who’s never had anything worse than the flu. It’s true for the passenger who barely survived the crash at the intersection and for the woman who’s never broken a bone in her body.
It’s borrowed time. All of it. We’re not promised one moment beyond this one, and yet it’s so easy to live like we’ve been given eternity.
But we haven’t. Not yet. We have right now, this moment, and that’s it.
What are you doing with it? How are you using it?
Moses asked God, “Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom” (Psalm 90:12). Until we understand that our days are limited, that our time is borrowed, a heart of wisdom is going to be forever beyond our reach. There’s always tomorrow, after all. Or the day after. Or the day after … And then God thunders, “Fool! This night your soul will be required of you” (Luke 12:20), and that’s it. Time’s up; game’s over. No more moments to waste.
Paul offers a better alternative: “See then that you walk circumspectly, not as fools but as wise, redeeming the time, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be unwise, but understand what the will of the Lord is” (Ephesians 5:15-17).
Our days are limited, our time is borrowed, and the clock is ticking. That ought to light a fire under our butts and help us to fix our attention on the things that really matter – not the distractions of this life, but the coming Kingdom of God and who we need to become to be there.
Jesus offers these words of hope: “Do not fear, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom” (Luke 12:32). God is on our side here. He wants to see us succeed. He wants us to make it – but that requires action from us.
“Borrowed time” has such an ominous connotation. It sounds like a loan that might be snatched back at any moment, and maybe that’s not the most encouraging way to look at it. This isn’t time we’ve borrowed from God as much as it is time God has given to us, so maybe that’s what we need to start calling it: gifted time. Time gifted to us by a loving Creator who wants us in His family.
We don’t need to be terrified of God waiting to take His gift back just to spite us, but we do need to understand that if we choose to squander the time we’re given, then the fault lies with us, not God.
Brethren, the Kingdom awaits. The race is waiting to be run. The clock is ticking. What are you doing with your gifted time?

Joy (New Church Lady)
James 1:2-4 [ESV] Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
The apostles themselves set an example in this very thing.
Acts 5:40-41 [ESV] “and when they had called in the apostles, they beat them and charged them not to speak in the name of Jesus, and let them go. Then they left the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer dishonor for the name.”
Given the trial of being beaten for preaching the Gospel, they rejoiced. I am definitely not there yet.
I have rejoiced to see the end of a trial and to have survived it, but I don’t think I have ever “counted it joy” when I first met a trial along the path of life. And maybe that isn’t exactly what James is asking us to do here.
Perhaps the key to the joy of meeting a trial is in coming out on the other side with growth in faith, finding that we are more steadfast and having gotten closer to perfection and completion for the work that God is doing within us. Acts 5 does tell us that the apostles rejoiced after the beating, when it was over. They did rejoice at going through it – at being counted worthy to suffer for Jesus. I am not saying they rejoiced because it was over, only when it was over.
Jesus set the same example. We read that He pleaded with the Father to take away the trial of beating and death on the stake. Afterwards, I’m sure the angels in heaven, the Father and Jesus rejoiced.
I am sure that the Father, Jesus and the angels also rejoice when they see each of us go through a trial and come out on the other side stronger in faith and more confident in our own steadfastness.
Like weightlifting, the more we work the greater the weight we can bear. Weightlifting creates tiny tears in the muscles we use. It is the overnight repair that builds the bulk and strength we are seeking while lifting weights. So, too, our work to make it through trials may leave tiny tears (or maybe large ones), in our bodies, finances and lives, but the bulk up our faith and steadfastness, moving us toward the goal of perfecting God’s work in us.
So when you meet a trial, choose to count it as joy for the godly work it brings you. Even if we can only say, “when this is done I will count it as joy for the work God is doing in me and for my hope of future glory with Jesus in the Kingdom.” I don’t think brother James is asking anything more of us.

Do Not Be Afraid (Forerunner)
“Are not two sparrows sold for a copper coin? And not one of them falls to the ground apart from your Father’s will.” (Matthew 10:29)
As I stopped to fuel my vehicle, a sparrow landed about five feet away and began pecking on some crumbs, seemingly unafraid of me. I watched him for several minutes until he flew off out of sight.
I could not help thinking of Jesus’s words in Matthew and Luke informing us that our great God is mindful of this little bird. It seemed a little ironic that the whole nation fears increasing gas prices, worrying how they will cope if the gas crisis continues, and this tiny, vulnerable bird simply goes about his daily search for food without a care. It is especially ironic because Jesus uses the sparrow to teach us not to fret but trust Him in all things.
He says in Matthew 10:31, “Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows.”
Jesus chose this diminutive bird to answer the questions: Does God really notice us? Does He watch over us and love and care for each of us? Understanding the context of Matthew 10 is helpful. At its beginning, Matthew lists the names of the apostles Jesus called and then launches into His instructions regarding their commission to do God’s work (verses 1-10). Within His instructions are warnings that their lives will not be easy. Many people would not be receptive to their message, and the apostles would have to learn to deal with it (verses 11-15). In the next section (verses 16-24), He tells them directly that they will face persecution. They will suffer trials and difficult days, but He also comforts them three times, in verses 26, 28, 31 saying, “Do not fear.” In so doing, Jesus reassures them that God was with them every step of their journey.
In Matthew 10:29-31 and in Luke’s version of the same event (Luke 12:6-7), Jesus uses the example of the sparrow to teach that nothing escapes the attention of our loving God. Why did Christ choose the sparrow? Sparrows are not majestic or powerful like raptors but just the opposite: Sparrows are extremely vulnerable, especially susceptible to birds of prey like falcons, hawks, and eagles. Sparrows are small and nondescript. A sparrow’s average length is only five to six inches long, and one of the tiny creatures weighs less than an ounce. And most often, they go unnoticed even though they number in the billions (1.6 billion house sparrows are estimated to exist around the globe, and there are 28 true-sparrow species). They are drab brown and blend in with the ground, dry grass, or scrub.
I love to watch the cardinals perching in the small tree in our front yard, and in the trees behind our house, a family of blue jays often captures my attention until they fly off. Sparrows are there too, up on the powerline or hopping in the yard, but my eyes rarely rest on them. There is little to them to hold a person’s attention. They cannot match the brilliance of colored plumage other songbirds sport.
No one prizes sparrows. No one gets excited when one flies into sight. No one pays big money to import a pair from abroad. People do not keep them in cages for their pleasant song; in fact, their “song” is more of a squawk. To put it bluntly, the sparrow is probably the most insignificant of all birds. Yet, it is for this very reason that Jesus used them to teach the apostles about God’s watchful care over them and us today.
The two instances of Jesus’s comments about sparrows say much the same thing, although a few minor details are different:
Are not two sparrows sold for a copper coin? And not one of them falls to the ground apart from your Father’s will. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows. (Matthew 10:29-31)
Are not five sparrows sold for two copper coins? And not one of them is forgotten before God. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows. (Luke 12:6-7) As Jesus often does, He uses an example that His contemporary audience would have easily understood. Vendors sold sparrows in first-century markets as food for the lower class, and Jesus draws on this common marketplace transaction to make His point. As mentioned above, sparrows are tiny; they typically weigh less than an ounce. One would hardly be a mouthful, and what is more, their nutritional value is meager. The sparrow was indeed a poor man’s food, and even several of them would hardly make a decent meal.
It is easy to understand how little value they had in the Roman-era marketplace. No one would get rich selling pairs of sparrows for a copper coin, typically the lowest-value coins, similar in value to our modern penny. These tiny birds hold even less value today since modern people do not use them as food.
Matthew phrases what Jesus says a little differently: “And not one of them falls to the ground apart from your Father’s will” (Matthew 10:29).
The word “falls” (Strong’s #4098) is translated from the Greek word: piptō, which has the basic meaning of “to descend from a higher place to a lower one,” thus, “to fall.” For example, when the young man Eutychus “fell” from the third story of a house in Troas, the word Luke uses is a form of piptō. Luke also uses it to describe a donkey or an ox falling into a well (Luke 14:5), and Matthew uses it of a house falling or not falling due to flooding (Matthew 7:25, 27). Alternatively, it can mean “to light upon.” The more common usage in Scripture is “to fall,” but this connotation is worth considering.
Most people assume that Jesus means that God notices when a sparrow falls to the earth and dies. This understanding is natural. But William Barclay’s commentary on Matthew 10:29 and this particular word are noteworthy:
The Revised Standard Version—and it is a perfectly correct translation of the Greek—has it that not one sparrow will fall to the ground without the knowledge of God. In such a context, the word fall makes us naturally think of death; but in all probability the Greek is a translation of an Aramaic word which means to light upon the ground. It is not that God marks the sparrow when the sparrow falls dead; it is far more; it is that God marks the sparrow every time it lights and hops upon the ground. So it is Jesus’s argument that, if God cares like that for sparrows, [H]e will care much more for men and women.
Jesus is declaring that if God cares enough to notice and acknowledge when the millions and millions of these little, brown-feathered birds light upon the ground, then how much more does He care for us, His children, whom He has made in His image?
His point is that we should never think of God as distant and uncaring. No matter what we may be experiencing in life, God is aware of it. When we have times of suffering, sorrow, persecution, hardship, separation, or even death, God is not somewhere else. He is right there with us.
In each text, Jesus gives hope, comfort, and strength to His disciples for when they would face persecution for preaching the gospel. He wants the disciples and us today to be much more focused on God and His will than the opinions of those who may test or discourage us.
We do not know if the disciples grasped what Jesus was telling them then, but in time they learned from their experiences and the guidance of God’s Holy Spirit. We can see it in 1 Peter 3:13-14 where the apostle encourages the church with the same thought:
And who is he who will harm you if you become followers of what is good? But even if you should suffer for righteousness’ sake, you are blessed. “And do not be afraid of their threats, nor be troubled.”
Peter had no doubt that God knows everything; nothing escapes His recognition or understanding. He knows our every thought, every action, every circumstance, and every experience—good or bad. And he adds, “you are blessed,” knowing God’s protection and compassion are endless.
We live in an age when God’s love and care are continually questioned, privately and publicly. But if we believe God’s Word, we show a lack of faith when we allow ourselves to think He has less compassion for us than He has for the little sparrow.
It is encouraging that, right in the middle of the sparrow analogy, Jesus says, “But the very hairs of your head are all numbered.” Jesus puts His disciples dead-center in this analogy about sparrows.
Our Savior is saying God knows us better than we know ourselves. Do we know how many hairs are on our heads? Of course, those who are follicly-challenged have a far easier time counting. Yet, no matter how much hair we may have, God knows!
And we can be sure that His knowledge does not end with the number of hairs on our heads! God knows everything about us and cares about our every body part, thought, word, and action, and He still loves us.
We are like sparrows. Compared to the number of people who live on earth, compared to the great and the near great among humanity, we are so small and insignificant. Most of all, in comparison to God, we are literally worthless. We can offer Him nothing of value. Even our highest thoughts and ideas are meaningless.
Paul makes this point for us in 1 Corinthians 1:27-29:
But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to put to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to put to shame the things which are mighty; and the base things of the world and the things which are despised God has chosen, and the things which are not, to bring to nothing the things that are, that no flesh should glory in His presence.
In Matthew and Luke, Jesus chose, not the strong, powerful, stately eagle but the sparrow, the weak and base of the bird family, to make His point. In the larger setting of His purpose, He has chosen you and me, the truly weak and base, those who are nothing special among human beings.
But the key words are in Paul’s repeated phrase, “God has chosen.”
We did not volunteer to become His elect. God has chosen us. We did not have any special skills or abilities that impressed Him. God has chosen us despite our insignificance. We did not have any stature in society to advance His work. God has chosen us out of obscurity. God chose those who were foolish, base, despised, and nothing.
From the beginning, the sovereign God has been working (John 5:17), creating godly children in His image and character. He has set us apart for a special purpose, sanctifying us, a process that takes a lifetime of constant refinement. He tests us, honing our ability to endure and resist sin, purifying and perfecting our character, and bringing us ever closer to His own righteousness.
Throughout that lifetime of refinement, God is there with us, watching over us and loving us. He is neither distant nor uncaring. In fact, just the opposite, as Jesus tells us in Luke 12.32: “Do not fear, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.”
This term, “Do not fear,” or similar ones like “fear not” or “do not be afraid,” appears over a hundred times in Scripture. By this repetition, God is driving home a point. Do we believe it?
Jesus wants us to be much more concerned with the will of our heavenly Father than the opinions of those that may test or discourage us. Every church member needs and desires encouragement from time to time, and we can find no greater encourager than God. Nothing is more encouraging than reading about God’s sure promises in His Word, like those we see in Matthew 10 and Luke 12 about the sparrow.
God does not forget us, not even for one minute—and definitely not when we are suffering under trials. One of the most heartening scriptures is Hebrews 13:5, where God Himself assures us, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”
Sparrows will never know that a loving God watches over them constantly and never forgets them. They have no idea He notices when they simply light upon the ground. But we know. We know our great God is aware of us at every moment of the day and knows what is happening in our lives down to the smallest detail. Why? Because, in His eyes, we are worth far more than many sparrows.

How Does God Keep Score? (Morning Companion)
More decades ago than I care to think about, I was sitting in a catechism class for teenagers. Back in those more congenial days the State of New York allowed schools to close early once a week, releasing students from its secular confines to attend religious education classes at the church of our parents’ choice.
Being of my ethnic persuasion, the family chose St. Anne’s Roman Catholic Church for my theological exposure, where a young man attempted to impart to us the classical principles of the ancient faith. He laid on us what seemed at first like heresy, but no more than five seconds into his explanation a lightbulb flashed in my half-formed brain. His point made sense.
“Do you think,” he said as he strolled to the blackboard, chalk in hand, “that God has a scoreboard up in heaven and tallies points for doing good and subtracts points for being bad? No! It doesn’t work that way.”
Is God a scorekeeper in the sky who keeps track of merits and demerits? Do we live our lives in order to buy favor with God? Is our relationship with God transactional or transformational? A man named Jacob illustrates the difference.
We read in Genesis about the young man and a deal he proffers with God. As he’s fleeing from a difficult and dangerous situation at home, he has an startling yet encouraging dream, after which he makes this bargain.
“If God will be with me and will watch over me on this journey I am taking and will give me food to eat and clothes to wear so that I can return safely to my father’s house, then the Lord will be my God and this stone that I have set up as a pillar will be God’s house, and of all that you give me I will give you a tenth.” (Genesis 28:20-22 NIV)
That’s an example of treating God as a transactional God. It a quid pro quo, a this for that kind of thing. It is certainly not a transformational relationship.
Many years later, after the experience of life had knocked the pride out of Jacob’s psyche, he began a journey back home. The feud with his brother that had precipitated his flight those many years before had still not been healed, and Jacob, in fear for his life, did what he he needed to do. He prayed. Notice this prayer and how it differs from his earlier prayer:
“O God of my father Abraham, God of my father Isaac, O Lord, who said to me, ‘Go back to your country and your relatives, and I will make you prosper,’ I am unworthy of all the kindness and faithfulness you have shown your servant. I had only my staff when I crossed this Jordan, but now I have become two groups. Save me, I pray, from the hand of my brother Esau, for I am afraid he will come and attack me, and also the mothers with their children. But you have said, ‘I will surely make you prosper and will make your descendants like the sand of the sea, which cannot be counted.'” (Genesis 32:9-12 NIV)
It’s fair to say that Jacob went home with a transformational rather than a transactional relationship with God. His experience with the vagaries of life transformed him and he came to know God in a way he could not had his life been easy. And more to the point, he knew that a mature relationship with his Creator is not based on a quid pro quo, on a this for that. It’s not transactional. It’s transformative.

How to limit God in 3 easy steps (Sabbath Thoughts)
Are you tired of the continual presence of God in your life? Does the divine intervention of a loving, all-knowing Creator just get under your skin? Would your daily routine be easier without the constant meddling of a God who has your best interests at heart?
It might seem strange to suggest we can somehow limit the Creator of the universe, but we need look no further than the Bible’s account of the Israelites for proof that it can be done. It was King David himself who wrote, “Yes, again and again they tempted God, and limited the Holy One of Israel” (Psalm 78:41).
So what’s the secret? It’s simple, really. There is no limit to what God can do, but there is a very real limit to what He will do. Certain actions on our end will make it harder and harder for Him to be intimately involved in our lives—so if you’d like to keep your interaction with God at the absolute bare minimum, these three tried-and-true steps are guaranteed to keep Him at arm’s length. They worked for many people throughout history, and there’s no reason they can’t work for you too!
1. Doubt Him
When it comes to thoughts and actions, God operates on a completely different plane than human beings (Isaiah 55:9). Because of His unbiased perspective and perfect understanding, He often makes decisions that—from our inadequate vantage points—make absolutely no sense. You might think this should make it easier to trust God, but human nature enables us to set our own expectations as our standard. When God inevitably fails to rise (or rather, stoop) to those flawed expectations, you’ll be amazed at how easy it is to transform that disappointment into skepticism and doubt. Remember that when Jesus came to visit his hometown of Nazareth, “He did not do many mighty works there because of their unbelief” (Matthew 13:58).
The key to this step is simply latching on to any fragment of doubt you can muster. Once you get that far, you’ll discover how easy it is to nurture that doubt and let it grow into something massive. And don’t worry! Doubt is a hardy, extremely resilient weed, so you would need to make a very concentrated effort to do any serious damage to it. The Israelites watched God send down bread from heaven and call forth water out of a rock, but if they woke up in the mornings with so much as a crick in their neck, they were still able to immediately accuse God of irrationally plotting their total annihilation. It won’t happen overnight, but with enough practice, you too can have this level of doubt toward God!
Once your doubt is strong enough, you’ll begin to notice God seeming a little more absent from your life. If you’d like, feel free to view this as His fault and use it to further bolster your skepticism as you proceed to the next step.
A word of caution: As powerful as doubt can be, it’s necessary to remember that even a little perspective can undo all your hard work. The author of Hebrews notes that “he who comes to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of those who diligently seek Him” (Hebrews 11:6), and the apostle James adds that Christians are to come before God “in faith, with no doubting, for he who doubts is like a wave of the sea driven and tossed by the wind” (James 1:6). Take this to heart! Making allowances for the fact that God might know and understand more than you is like taking an axe to the roots of your doubt—so be sure to avoid this under any circumstances!
2. Ignore Him
Through the Bible, God provides us with a great deal of instruction about getting the absolute most out of life. However, many of these instructions can appear counter-intuitive on the surface. Give up a tenth of our hard-earned money? Sacrifice one day out of seven to worship God? Lose our lives in order to find them? If you’ve really dedicated yourself to the previous step, then by now you ought to have a litany of questions about these instructions. Doesn’t God know I need that money to pay bills? Doesn’t God know I need that day to take care of all my responsibilities? If God really loves me, why does He want me to shift my focus from the things I love?
Excellent. At this point your doubt is strong enough to prompt some action on your part. You should be seriously concerned that God might not really know what’s best for you—which leaves you with only one choice, really. You’re going to have to start ignoring the instructions that are just asking too much of you. Not all at once, of course. There’s no need to jump in blindly, here—just dip your toes in for now. After all, what you really need is just a little breathing room. Maybe you don’t need to set aside a full 10% of your income—after all, 5% or 6% is more than enough, isn’t it? Maybe you don’t need to spend a full day observing the Sabbath—after all, you made it to services this week, didn’t you? And maybe it’s okay to put a couple things ahead of God—after all, this mortgage isn’t going to pay itself, you know?
It might take a while to get comfortable with this new approach, so don’t feel the need to rush. You’re probably going to feel some guilt for a while, but that’s okay—just stick with the gradual approach and eventually it will pass. There won’t be any bolts of lightning or pillars of fire. You’re just doing what you need to do—and once you’ve come to accept that, it’s time to move on to the final step.
A word of caution: Ignorance is vital here. The apostle Paul encourages Christians to “Test all things; hold fast what is good” (1 Thessalonians 5:21).
It is essential that you do not do this. If you faithfully tithe even when it seems to promise financial ruin, you might start to see God “open for you the windows of heaven and pour out for you such blessing that there will not be room enough to receive it” (Malachi 3:10). If you start to faithfully observe the Sabbath even though you’re not sure how you’ll manage without those extra 24 hours for getting things done, you might start to find that you “delight yourself in the Lord” who will “cause you to ride on the high hills of the earth and feed you with the heritage of Jacob your father” (Isaiah 58:14). And if you discover that seeking your own interests only leads to an empty vacuum of an existence, you might start to find the truth in Christ’s statement that “My yoke is easy and My burden is light” (Matthew 11:30). In other words, following God’s instructions will only bring you closer to Him, which is certainly not what you want.
3. Sin against Him
Satan wasn’t always known as Satan. In fact, the Bible tells us of a time when he was known as Heylel—the day star, the son of the morning (Isaiah 14:12). He was “the seal of perfection, full of wisdom and perfect in beauty,” established by God, and perfect in his ways from the day he was created (Ezekiel 28:12, 14-15), until …
Until something happened. Satan started doubting God—started doubting that He really knew what He was doing. And Satan started ignoring the commands of God—started coveting God’s position as the Most High. His next step was only logical. He told himself:
I will ascend into heaven,
I will exalt my throne above the stars of God;
I will also sit on the mount of the congregation
On the farthest sides of the north;
I will ascend above the heights of the clouds,
I will be like the Most High. (Isaiah 14:13-14)
If God doesn’t know what’s best for you, then you’re going to have to replace Him—and who better to lead you than … you? After all, you know what you want. You know what you need. Up until now it’s been a matter of gradually letting things fall away, but now it’s time to drop the façade. You don’t care what God thinks or what He wants you to do—you only know that it’s been a long time since you ever felt close to Him and that it’s high time to take matters into your own hands.
It didn’t end well for Satan, of course. God explains:
You became filled with violence within, and you sinned;
Therefore I cast you as a profane thing out of the mountain of God;
And I destroyed you, O covering cherub, from the midst of the fiery stones. Your heart was lifted up because of your beauty;
You corrupted your wisdom for the sake of your splendor;
I cast you to the ground, I laid you before kings,
That they might gaze at you. (Ezekiel 28:16-17)
No, it certainly didn’t end (and will not end) well for Satan. But that’s not what you wanted, was it? A good ending? No, as I recall, you wanted to keep God as far from you as possible. Well, Christ told the disciples that He “saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven” (Luke 10:18). I don’t know how much farther you can get from God than being hurled by Him through the cosmos, and since these three steps have you following a path strikingly similar to the one Satan took, it’s safe to assume that you’ll find a similar void between yourself and your Creator. God will not dwell with sin (Psalm 5:4), to the point where He couldn’t even be close to His own Son when Christ became the sacrifice for our sins (Mark 15:34). And at this stage, you’re well on your way to willingly making sin your lifestyle.
Do you think God will want to be anywhere near that?
A word of caution: This might seem like the absolute end of the line—but believe it or not, it’s still possible to undo everything you’ve worked so hard to accomplish. Because God is “longsuffering toward us, not willing that any should perish but that all should come to repentance” (2 Peter 3:9), your genuine repentance can still throw a giant monkey wrench into the gears of this whole process. God is more patient with us than we could possibly deserve, and ultimately desires every human being to join His perfect spiritual family—and while He hates sin in all its forms, He is eager to work with all those who are seeking both His forgiveness and a way to leave those sins behind forever.
Such a mindset would be absolutely detrimental to your plans of distancing yourself from God and must be avoided at all costs. So long as you cling to the prescribed attitude of willful and belligerent sin, you will be successful in completely severing any relationship between yourself and God—primarily because this is the path that will one day lead you to complete and final destruction in the lake of fire. God is longsuffering, but He is also merciful—if you are determined to live a life that brings pain to yourself and to those around you, the most merciful thing God can do for you is to end your existence. He wants you in His family, but He will not force you to be in it.
Of course, if you’re having second thoughts about whether or not this is the path for you, now would be the perfect time to reevaluate where this is all heading. It takes a very special kind of person to see this plan through to fruition, and if you decide an alternate destination sounds a little more appealing than total obliteration, it’s never too late to reconsider a relationship with God.

Thy Will and My Will (Sabbath Thoughts)
Given the choice, how would you run your life?
I’m not talking about the freedom you already have to make decisions and pursue goals—I’m talking about having the power to control exactly what happens to you. Would you choose to receive a vast inheritance from some heretofore unknown and eccentric uncle? Would you catapult yourself into the limelight, basking in the adoration of a million admirers? Would you have your siblings ambush you and sell you into slavery, and then have your new master’s wife falsely accuse you of attempting fornication with her, only to result in your unjust incarceration for several years?
If that last option sounds a little less than palatable, then congratulations, your sanity is more or less intact. There is absolutely nothing enticing about that last scenario, and certainly it would be one of the farthest choices from my mind if I had the ability to control the happenings of my day-to-day life. And yet, that same unfortunate chain of events belongs to the story of one of God’s most famous servants.
It’s not that Joseph asked for a life filled with servitude, false accusations, and time in the slammer. No one in their right mind asks for those kind of things—but a good portion of his story looks like a rollercoaster where every “up” teases the promise of stability and improvement right before plunging even deeper into a worrisome abyss of despair.
If you’re unfamiliar with Joseph’s story (Genesis 37-50), here’s the abridged version: Because of Joseph’s status as his father’s favorite son, along with a couple visions that cast his siblings in a less-than-favorable light, Joseph’s brothers sell him into slavery and convince their father that Joseph was killed by a wild animal. Joseph prospers in his new home, quickly finding himself placed in charge of all his master’s goods, until his master’s wife tries to seduce him (repeatedly), fails (repeatedly), and then frames him as a would-be rapist. Joseph is thrown in prison where, again, he prospers and is placed in charge of essentially running the jail. While incarcerated, he interprets the dreams of two other prisoners, correctly predicting that one would be pardoned and the other, executed. Joseph asks the soon-to-be-pardoned cupbearer to put in a good word to Pharaoh on his behalf, and the cupbearer happily agrees. Oh, and then forgets about that agreement. For two years. Eventually the Pharaoh has two distressing dreams, and the cupbearer conveniently has an epiphany—he knows the perfect guy for the job! He’s not hard to find, on account of still being locked up in the royal jailhouse.
There’s more to the story, but I want to stop here for a minute because I’ve left out a very important detail. It’s one of the most important details of Joseph’s entire story, and the Bible mentions it twice: namely, “the Lord was with Joseph” (Genesis 39:2,21). The specific times this phrase is used are interesting as well—the first is during his time as a slave, and the second is during his time in prison. We don’t read, “and the Lord left Joseph in prison and decided to check on him in about two years,” because that isn’t how God works. He was there. Every step of Joseph’s misfortune-prone journey, God was there, helping Joseph to succeed wherever he found himself.
God didn’t abandon Joseph. He was with Joseph, most notably during the moments that made the least sense to him. I can only imagine how much time Joseph spent in deep personal reflection. Early on in life, God had shown him visions a future where his brothers would bow down to him. Did he ever start to question those visions? Did he ever start to question God? Because I think I would have a hard time not wondering whether or not God was still with me if I were in Joseph’s shoes.
Which is exactly why the Bible gives us an emphatic yes—even in the darkest, most perplexing hours of Joseph’s life, God was present … and He was working out a plan.
The rest of Joseph’s story reveals that God was using these pitfalls in Joseph’s life to bring about something grander than anyone involved could have ever imagined. His brothers’ betrayal allowed him to become the slave of a high-ranking Egyptian official. His imprisonment allowed him to enter the prison where he would meet Pharaoh’s cupbearer. The cupbearer’s delay in pleading Joseph’s case allowed Joseph to emerge from prison at the perfect time to interpret Pharaoh’s dreams.
That dream was a warning from God about an impending famine in the land of Egypt, and after having this explained to him, Pharaoh installed Joseph as the second greatest authority in all the land. Through Joseph’s inspired planning, Egypt and surrounding nations were saved from a seven-year famine that would have otherwise decimated countless lives. Among those lives were those of his brothers, his father, and other family members—brothers who, incidentally, bowed to this strange Egyptian man they failed to recognize as the brother they sold all those years ago.
So now for the obvious question: why this way? Why all the hardship? Couldn’t God have just inspired Pharaoh to put Joseph in charge from the beginning? Yes, I suppose. But there would be a couple problems with that timeline. Who knows how Joseph would have handled all that power if he hadn’t spent time in charge of both Potiphar’s household and the royal prison? Those experiences taught him both humility and organization. Also, by the end of the story we see a marked change in Joseph’s brothers—Judah, who proposed selling Joseph, is now willing to become a slave himself to rescue young Benjamin. Would that character growth have occurred any other way, or would they have just hated Joseph even more than before?
It’s clear even at first glance that the way God organized things was to everyone’s benefit—to Joseph’s, his family’s, and even the surrounding nations’. God took what would have been an unfortunate situation and shaped it into a series of events that ultimately led to something incredible. Joseph himself recognized this by the end, telling his brothers, “But as for you, you meant evil against me; but God meant it for good, in order to bring it about as it is this day, to save many people alive. Now therefore, do not be afraid; I will provide for you and your little ones” (Genesis 50:20-21).
The little snippets you and I glimpse of God’s plan in our lives so often don’t make sense to us because from our tiny human vantage point, we can’t see the bigger picture. We can’t see the future steps—we see the here and now. Joseph didn’t know why God allowed him to become a slave, or why God allowed him to be thrown into jail for a crime he didn’t even commit, but here’s the thing: God did. God knew why He was allowing each and every moment in Joseph’s life—like a master chess player, God had a goal in mind and was actively moving Joseph toward it. It’s probably not the path Joseph would have chosen for himself, given the choice. Who would have? As we noted earlier, there’s nothing appealing about all those hardships—but when we look at the bigger picture, it becomes apparent that although it wasn’t the path we might have chosen, it was in fact the best path.
How many times have you and I wondered why God is allowing something in our lives? How many times have we grown anxious that what He’s letting us go through isn’t what’s best for us? How many times have we looked at the path God has set us on and wished we could do some course-correcting? One of the proverbs preserved in the pages of the Bible reminds us, “A man’s heart plans his way, but the LORD directs his steps” (Proverbs 16:9). We can plan our lives out all we like, but God is the one who ultimately decides what happens and what doesn’t. There’s nothing wrong with having plans, but those plans need to end with the contingency Christ gave to his prayer in the garden: “Nevertheless, not as I will, but as You will” (Matthew 26:39).
If the story of Joseph teaches us anything, let it be this: let us understand that we can’t see as God sees. We can’t see the trillion different possibilities stemming from each step we take, but God can trace each one down to its finish line. We can’t see the end of our plans; God can see the end of His. No, not everything God allows to happen in our lives is going to make sense, but it is only because we lack His perfect vantage point. It is never a failure of planning on His end, but a failure to see ahead on ours. When we submit our lives to God’s will and refrain from fighting Him at every curve, we will find not only a life of fulfillment, but a life with a greater ending than you and I could ever comprehend. No matter how perplexing, no matter how dark the moment, God will be there to guide us every step of the way.
God shaped Joseph into a ruler of Egypt. He’s shaping us into kings and priests of the universe. Is any path to that destiny not worth taking?

The Feast and God’s People (Search the Scriptures)
In ancient times the feast was about rejoicing in the fear of the ETERNAL. It was called the feast of the harvest, or feast of Ingathering, Feast of Tabernacles (Tents), or simply,” the feast.” The harvest was complete. Food was plenteous. The work was done and it was time to rejoice before the Eternal and give thanks to Him and learn to fear to disappoint Him.
People in Israel took their tithes of the land—food, wine, and animals– to the temple and ate in the place that God chose to place His Name — the city of Shiloh (at first) and Jerusalem (later). The emphasis was on rejoicing, eating the best, and drinking the best.
The New Testament refers to God’s feasts as love feasts (Jude 12). Surely the word “love” is not referring to the “love” of food, wine, and good times. The word “love” in Greek is “agape” and means the kind of love God is and manifests.
This is the love we are to give to God’s people – called the “love of the Brethren (Philadelphia) — and to God. But how do we show love to God? “If someone says, ‘I love God,’ and hates his brother, he is a liar; for the one who does not love his brother whom he has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen” (1 John 4:20).
It is through the love we have toward one another that we love God also. Boiled down, the Feast is about God and His people. It’s about expressing love to God through His people. What does it mean to love people?
It means getting to know them and caring for them. It means to forgive them. It means to consider their needs, feelings, and sufferings. It means respecting their person and their property. It means accepting the fact that others have a right to their own ideas, values, and decisions – different though they may be from your own. It means knowing that we adhere to the main tenets of Christianity – Jesus Christ as Lord, the Son of God our Father!
We know that men and women are different. But we don’t need to judge them or criticize them but celebrate their differentness.
We are different from one another in many ways. Respecting other people’s right to be different, even their right to make mistakes, and their right to make their own choices is a form of love. The opposite is tyranny and accusing.
I believe the feast should be about growing in so many ways, but especially in our love for Christ, who is present in His people!
Here’s wishing you a very inspiring, loving, and edifying Feast!

Bold Thoughts (Sabbath Thoughts)
The wicked flee when no one pursues, But the righteous are bold as a lion. (Proverbs 28:1)
The trumpets sounded. The harps and flutes and voices quickly joined in as the royal musicians of the world’s most powerful nation struck up a symphony to send a single message to its people: Bow down.
And so, fearing the wrath of their proud ruler, conquered nations and citizens alike bowed down to a giant golden idol, proving their loyalty to King Nebuchadnezzar. An entire empire lay prostrate before a statue.
An entire empire—with three exceptions. While the rest of their fellow subjects buried their faces in the ground, Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah stood defiantly. Like the royal musicians, they too were sending a message: We will not.
Word rushed back to the king like a fire igniting his wrath. Bitter citizens informed Nebuchadnezzar that three of the Jews he had instated as officials in his empires were now openly defying him, refusing to bow before his statue as commanded. Enraged, the king sent for them and demanded an answer: Had they really been so foolish as to openly defy the orders of the most powerful man in the world? He then restated the ultimatum that the three men knew all too well—they could either bow down to the statue with the rest of the empire, or they could burn alive in a furnace.
What came next shook a kingdom.
God had given His people, the nation of Israel, chance after chance (and warning after warning) to choose Him as their God. Time after time, they rejected Him in favor of smelted idols or carved figurines—choosing creation over the Creator. Centuries later, Stephen would summarize their history as he reprimanded the Israelite leaders of his time: “You stiff-necked and uncircumcised in heart and ears! You always resist the Holy Spirit; as your fathers did, so do you” (Acts 7:51).
Our Creator is patient, but He will not endure sin forever. And so, after centuries of second chances, He removed His protection from the nation and allowed foreign powers to cart the once-great people into captivity. Assyria would plunder the majority of Israel first; Babylon would follow, conquering what remained. Among the spoils claimed by the now-mighty Babylonians were four men of note: Daniel (who you probably remember from his time in the lion’s den) and his three friends, Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah (who you probably remember from their Babylonian names, Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-Nego).
It didn’t take long before these four faithful men of God distinguished themselves before the eyes of their captor, King Nebuchadnezzar. Through the inspiration of God, Daniel was able to both describe and interpret a dream of the king’s—a feat impossible for the alleged “wise men” of the Babylonian empire. This earned Daniel a promotion from captive to “ruler over the whole province of Babylon, and chief administrator over all the wise men of Babylon” (Daniel 2:48). The king also agreed to “set Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-Nego over the affairs of the province of Babylon” (Daniel 2:49).
The story might have ended there, if not for a minor problem: Nebuchadnezzar was not a particularly humble ruler. Something about being the most powerful man in the world had bloated his ego to mammoth proportions. So when construction finished on his 90-foot tall golden idol and he sent out the orders to worship it on pain of death whenever the royal musicians gave the cue, the very thought that three of his highest rulers would openly oppose his command was unacceptable. He summoned them and explained, with all the tenderness of an egotistical dictator, that their continued refusal would end with searing agony as they plummeted to the bottom of a burning fiery furnace.
There’s a good chance that Nebuchadnezzar had not solidified his authority by memorizing the birthdays of his officers’ children. Far more likely that the ruthless king had learned to make gruesome examples of those who opposed him—so it makes sense that Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-Nego were not having this discussion in the king’s private quarters. When he shouted in rage, “And who is the god who will deliver you from my hands?” (Daniel 3:15), no doubt an entire court of officials stood stunned and silent, waiting anxiously to hear how the three rulers would answer. Could they possibly defy the king to his face? Would they be so foolish as to sign their own death sentence? Anyone with half a brain would surely realize that their only hope was to prostrate themselves like everyone else—but the three men were not interested in appeasing anyone.
Instead, their answer would be recorded in God’s Word, preserved for us down through the millennia as a defining example of what it means to be a Christian—and what it means to be as bold as lions. They told the king:
Nebuchadnezzar, we have no need to answer you in this matter. If that is the case, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and He will deliver us from your hand, O king. But if not, let it be known to you, O king, that we do not serve your gods, nor will we worship the gold image which you have set up. (Daniel 3:16-18)
Unsurprisingly, King Nebuchadnezzar flew into a rage, intent on making the consequences of disobedience unmistakably clear. The furnace was heated seven times hotter than usual—so hot that some of the finest soldiers in Nebuchadnezzar’s army were killed just by getting close enough to throw in the rebellious Jews. Much more surprising was when the king noticed the three men, not writhing in agony, but walking amidst the flames unharmed…and in the company of a fourth figure he could only describe as looking “like a son of the gods” (Daniel 3:25, New International Version).
Ego or not, the king of Babylon was forced to come face-to-face with one simple fact: There was a Being more powerful than him, and that Being didn’t approve of Nebuchadnezzar’s idol. The king called for Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-Nego to come out of the furnace, then promoted them and made a decree that anyone who dared speak against the God of these three men would be sentenced to an unenviable death.
God’s miraculous rescue of His three faithful servants has made this story an enduring favorite, the real lesson lies in what happened before the fire. In fact, the real lesson lies in three simple words from the men’s short speech: “But if not.”
They told the king, “our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and He will deliver us from your hand, O king. But if not, let it be known to you, O king, that we do not serve your gods, nor will we worship the gold image which you have set up.”
Contained within these three words is an attitude, a mindset, that any Christian who hopes to capture a lion’s boldness must have—a firm belief that serving God is unconditional.
Look at their words again. They begin by expressing their complete faith in God’s ability to save them from Nebuchadnezzar’s wrath. This king of Babylon saw himself as more powerful than the gods his people served—he had deluded himself into thinking he was omnipotent, unstoppable. When he asked, “And who is the god who will deliver you from my hands?” he wasn’t looking for a response. So when the three men responded with, “Our God,” it sent him into a rage. And if that had been all they said, this still would have made for a powerful account—but what makes it remarkable is what came next. The “But if not.”
The Biblical account in Daniel 3 mentions no divine revelation from God. We see no record of a vision or dream given to His servants, letting them know that they would be rescued by God. Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-Nego could not have been certain whether God would bring them alive out of the furnace. They knew He was able, but they didn’t know for sure that He would. So they tell the most powerful ruler on Earth that even if God doesn’t deliver them from the fire—even if they knew in advance that refusing to bow would result in an excruciating death, they would not bow.
Not knowing that a divine rescue was imminent, it would have been easy for most people to justify bowing to the statue. After all, they wouldn’t really be worshiping the idol. God would know their hearts. They’d just be keeping out of trouble so that they could keep on worshiping the real God later! And besides that, if they were to die, that would be three fewer followers of God in a pagan government. So really, it was in everyone’s best interest, especially God’s, that they stay alive—and if that means a little compromise, then so be it, right?
Wrong. Wrong in every sense of the word. If there’s one lesson in this story, it’s this: The conditions don’t matter. Following God has never and will never be a matter of, “I’ll serve God if…” Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-Nego understood this. There was no, “We’ll only refuse to worship your statue if God rescues us.” It didn’t matter if God saved them or not—they were not going to bow, period. End of story. They would not compromise, and they would not blur any lines set by God, no matter the cost to their positions or their lives. And it’s because of this unconditional devotion to God that they were able to be bold as lions before King Nebuchadnezzar—the most powerful man in the world.
How about us? In our lives, we might not face anything so dramatic as a one-way trip into a burning fiery furnace. But we do face pressure to compromise—to blur the lines that God has set for us. We might even be able to convince ourselves that it’s okay, that God will understand because the ends justify the means, or because we’re not 100% sure that God will save us so it’s better to fend for ourselves. But the second we take that step, the second we choose to compromise even the slightest on God’s standards, we’ll be transformed from fearless, bold lions to whimpering, uncertain kittens. It might not show immediately on the outside; we may even manage to trick some people into thinking otherwise, but in our hearts, we’ll know—we’re not bold. We’re cowards.
On the contrary, when we choose to resist the pressure to compromise—whether or not we’ve fallen short before—we establish ourselves as bold lions. When we choose to stand up for God’s way, especially when we know it could cost us dearly, we not only maintain our integrity before God, but we also set an example of what it means to be a Christian.
King David wrote a verse that sums it all up beautifully; it may even have been going through the minds of Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-Nego when they made their now-famous speech. He wrote, “In God I have put my trust; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?” (Psalm 56:11). When we trust God—truly trust in His omnipotence, omniscience and immense care for us—then we know that our fellow man can do nothing more to us than what God allows. More than that, we know that whatever God allows, however little we understand it, is for our good. Secure in this knowledge, we can be bold.
As we noted earlier in this story, the names you likely know these three men by are Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-Nego. These were the names assigned to them by their Babylonian captors and, for some reason, the names that stuck in this account. Because of this, it’s easy to overlook their real names—names that rightly give glory to their God. Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah respectively mean “God has favored,” “Who is like God?” and “God has helped.” Even the names of these three men powerfully reflect their confidence and faith in God’s unparalleled ability to deliver His people.
And, yes—in the end, God rescued His three servants and even caused Nebuchadnezzar to promote them and proclaim God’s greatness throughout his empire. But what makes this account so inspiring is that even if He hadn’t … it would still have been a story worth telling.
Hananiah, Mishael and Azariah were bold as lions. Will you be?

He asked for all the fish (Sabbath Thoughts)
Have you ever wondered why?
The Bible records two separate instances where Jesus miraculously fed thousands and thousands of people with only a handful of loaves and fish. In both accounts, the end result is a stuffed multitude and baskets and baskets of leftovers. And that’s the main focus of the miracle—Jesus Christ’s ability to do the impossible, over and over again.
But recently, when I read those accounts, something jumped out at me. When the disciples told Jesus, “We have here only five loaves and two fish” (|Matthew 14:17), His response was,
“Bring them here to Me’ … And He took the five loaves and the two fish” (Matthew 14:18-19).
That was it. That was the sum total of their available provisions. Christ tells them to feed the multitude, and they tell Him, “How can we? Look, this is all we’ve got!” So Jesus says, “Give it to Me.”
The second account follows the same theme. A hungry crowd of four thousand is following Jesus, and all the disciples have on hand is seven loaves “and a few little fish” (Matthew 15:34). And again, Jesus “took the seven loaves and the fish” (Matthew 15:36).
Why? Why did Jesus ask for everything? Did He need five loaves and two fish to feed five thousand people? Did He need seven loaves and a few fish to feed four thousand people? Couldn’t He have done it with one of each? Couldn’t He have done it with none of each?
And the answer is … yes. Of course He could have. He created the universe out of nothing; catering a meal for a few thousand people wasn’t somehow beyond His ability. And yet, both times, He asked for all the loaves. He asked for all the fish. And He used those loaves and those fish to provide so much abundance that the starving crowds were able to take up “large baskets full of the fragments that were left” (Matthew 15:37; cf. Matthew 14:20).
Because that’s how it works, isn’t it? In our lives, in our calling, God doesn’t ask us for a token gesture. He doesn’t ask us to give up just a little bit of ourselves. He asks us for everything. It’s not that He needs it. Of course He doesn’t need it. “Heaven is My throne, And earth is My footstool,” He tells us, “Where is the house that you will build Me? And where is the place of My rest?” (Isaiah 66:1). But He asks for it all the same—because we need it.
It’s right there in the terms and conditions: “If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me. For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it. For what profit is it to a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul?” (Matthew 16:24-26).
When we make the commitment to follow God, we don’t get to keep any part of ourselves back. We don’t get to say, “You can do whatever You want with most of me, but this part, this loaf, this fish, I’m keeping it and You can’t have it.” It’s all or nothing. Try to keep it, try to hold onto it, and we lose everything.
But when we hand it over … When we hand it over, the impossible happens. If Jesus can turn a handful of fish and bread into dinner for thousands with baskets of leftovers, what can He do with your life? When we let go of the illusion that somehow we’re the ones best suited to guide and direct our own lives, when we hand over the reins to God and keep nothing back, He gives us so much more than we gave to Him.
“Give, and it will be given to you: good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over will be put into your bosom. For with the same measure that you use, it will be measured back to you” (Luke 6:38).
The Bible is full of stories of people who fought God on that—who tried to reap His blessings without giving Him control. Samson did it. Ananias and Sapphira did it. Simon the sorcerer did it. Judas did it. We know how those stories go; we know how they end.
But the Bible is also full of stories of people who did the opposite—who submitted to God’s will, albeit imperfectly at times, and let Him lead them. Abraham did it. Sarah did it. Moses did it. Stephen did it. Paul did it. Samson (eventually) did it. And we know how those stories go, too. We know that now they’re awaiting a better resurrection, that “God is not ashamed to be called their God, for He has prepared a city for them” (Hebrews 11:16).
All or nothing. That’s how this works. That’s how this has always worked.
We serve a God who asks for all the fish.

In Due Time (New Horizons)
There’s nothing random about when God enters the world of man. He has a plan—worked out before the material creation took shape. And He sticks to it, manipulating events to ensure the desired outcome. James, brother of Jesus stated:
Known unto God are all his works from the beginning of the world. (Not that God enforces us to submit to His will, but that He works circumstances to bring about that desired outcome.)
A careful reading of history convinces that God has predetermined specific events. And those events impact the world exactly when He predicted.
He ‘has made of one blood all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth, and has determined the times before appointed, and the bounds of their habitation’ (Acts 17:26).
Sings the Psalmist: ‘The LORD brings the counsel of the heathen to nought: he makes the devices of the people of none effect. The counsel [plans] of the LORD stand for ever, the thoughts of his heart to all generations’.
God is the mover and shaker of events among men! What He determines will happen: ‘The LORD of hosts hath sworn, saying, Surely as I have thought, so shall it come to pass; and as I have purposed, so shall it stand’ (Isaiah 14:24).
[Our leaders—secular and religious—take note: unless you get in harmony with God’s
plans, your own schemes are doomed to fail!]
Built into the creation’s design there are ‘lights in the firmament of the heaven to divide the day from the night; and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and years’ (Genesis 1:14).
Note that term ‘seasons’ (Heb mo’ed). It is variously translated but it refers to God’s ‘appointed times’— a fixed time, as for example specified times to observe God’s festivals (Leviticus 23). Or seasonal—as with harvest seasons.
But not all such ‘appointments’ are clear to us: ‘It is not for you to know the times or the
seasons, which the Father has put in his own power’ (Acts 1:7).
Or, addressing the prophet Daniel: ‘Go thy way, Daniel: for the words are closed up and
sealed till the time of the end’ (ch 12:9).
Conversely: ‘times are not hidden from the Almighty’ (Job 24:1).
And through Moses: ‘The secret things belong unto the LORD our God: but those things which are revealed belong unto us and to our children for ever, that we may do all the words of this law’ (Deuteronomy 29:29).
Wise King Solomon adds: ‘It is the glory of God to conceal a thing’ (Proverbs 25:2).
Such divine timing is especially clear in the life and times of Jesus the Messiah.
‘when the fulness of the time was come, God sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made
under the law’ (Galatians 4:4).
At Jesus’s birth an elderly devout man, Simeon, is described as having ‘revealed unto him by the Holy Spirit, that he should not see death, before he had seen the Lord’s Christ’ (Luke 2:26).
The ministry of Jesus was foretold, a prophecy given through Daniel, one of God’s
prophets living in the sixth century BC. That prophecy (Daniel 9:24-25), widely known as the ’Seventy Week’ prophecy, foretold the time of Messiah’s ministry. It outlines a period of 490 years, beginning with a decree from a Gentile king regarding the rebuilding of Jerusalem. The prophecy—in three time periods—was accurately fulfilled
when Jesus, referencing a related prophecy by Isaiah concerning his ministry, proclaimed:
‘This day is this scripture fulfilled in your ears’ (Luke 4:21).
In the New Testament, Titus confirms:
‘[God] has in due times manifested his word through preaching’ (ch 1:3).
Precisely what Jesus did in that synagogue in Nazareth. Mark, too:
‘Now after that John was put in prison, Jesus came into Galilee, preaching the gospel of the kingdom of God, And saying, The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand: repent and believe the gospel’ (ch.1:14-15).
His royal birth was, too, anticipated by the Magi from ‘the East’ (Matthew 2:2).
The Scriptures make clear that Jesus was fully aware of the Father’s time-frame for his
life—and death. At Cana –as his ministry was beginning—he told his mother ‘my hour is
not yet come’ (John 2:3-4). It wasn’t the time for his public manifestation through miraculous powers.
Yet as death approached Jesus makes clear that the time for him to fulfill his destiny had
arrived: ‘The Master says, My time is at hand; I will keep the passover at your house with my disciples’ (Matthew 26:18).
John adds: ‘Jesus knew that his hour was come that he should depart out of this world
unto the Father’ (John 13:1). A couple of hours later, in Gethsemane, Jesus wakens the weary disciples with the words: ‘Sleep on now, and take your rest: behold, the hour is at
hand, and the Son of man is betrayed into the hands of sinners’ (Matthew 26:45).
Reflecting on the crucifixion of Jesus, Paul says: ‘when we were yet without strength, in due time Christ died for the ungodly’ (Romans 5:6).
In writing to Timothy he says: ‘[Jesus] who gave himself a ransom for all, to be testified in due time’ (I Timothy 2:6).
What God predicts through His prophets will come to pass. Not only so—they happen on time, His time. There are units of time revealed in the Scriptures—long periods (such as 2520 years, 360 years, 70 years), short periods (eg the precise prediction of the birth of Isaac, Genesis 17:21, 21:2).
Truly ‘To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven’ (Ecclesiastes 3:1).
The divine plan moves inexorably onward. As we approach the return of the Saviour we can expect further unveiling of that Grand Design:
‘How long shall it be to the end of these wonders?
And I heard the man clothed in linen, which was above the waters of the river, when he held up his right hand and his left hand unto heaven, and sware by him that lives for ever that it shall be for a time, times, and an half; and when they have made an end of breaking in pieces the power of the holy people, all these things shall be finished. And I heard, but I understood not: then said I, O my lord, what shall be the issue of these things? And he said, Go thy way, Daniel: for the words are shut up and sealed till the time of the end’ (Daniel 12:6-9).
But a word of caution. Many have taken in hand to predict when that end will be. For Augustine it was 650AD, for William Miller it was 1884, Jehovah’s Witnesses 1914, Herbert Armstrong 1975. And then there is the Mayan prophecy—misunderstood to predict the end of the world in 2012.
Be Prepared It is for each Christian to ‘keep their powder dry’. ‘be you also ready: for in such an hour as you think not the Son of comes’, said Jesus.
When trouble looms there’s a tendency to look the other way, hoping it will simply go away. Jesus predicted this attitude will mark the last days. It will, he said, be just like Noah’s day—everyone carrying on with daily life and ignoring the warning signs. Their end came suddenly,unexpectedly.
Wrote King Solomon: ‘When you see trouble coming, don’t be stupid and walk right into it — be smart and hide’ (Proverbs 22:3 CEV).