In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul tells his friends that he prays that the eyes of their hearts may be enlightened or opened. (1:18)
Isn't that an interesting concept: the eyes of our hearts.
Not the physical eyes of our bodies that see physical things around us -- lamps, chairs, trees, birds. . . but the "eyes of our hearts" that can discern deeper things, spiritual matters, eternal truths.
Jesus talked about people who have eyes but don't see. It's entirely possible to have 20/20 vision but not be able to see the truths of the Bible. It was possible for people to go out of their villages to see Jesus but not see who he was/is. It's possible for people today to see Jesus as an historical figure but not see him as Lord of life.
Think about the two on the road to Emmaus, who didn't recognize Jesus as they walked along with him. They saw a man, a traveling companion, but they didn't see him as Jesus -- until their eyes were opened.
In the beatitudes, we are told that the pure in heart will see God. I believe that this promise refers not to physical sight, but to that sight that discerns more than physical things, the ability to see God at work in our everyday experiences.
I love the old testament story about Elisha's servant who is afraid of the huge enemy army that has surrounded them. From my viewpoint, the servant has reason to panic -- he sees a large number of bad guys, armed to the teeth and intent on doing harm to him and the prophet. All human logic was on the side of the servant and his apparently justified fears.
But Elisha comforts him and prays that God will open his eyes so that he can see. God grants this prayer, and the servant sees the hills filled with horses and chariots of fire. Then he understands what Elisha meant when he had said, "Those who are with us are more than those who are with them." 2 Kings 6
The same is true for us. When we look at circumstances with our physical eyes and our human logic, we are fearful. When we focus on the difficulties that surround us, it is easy to lose heart. That's why the Hebrews writer tells us to fix our eyes on Jesus. (12:2)
These are the eyes of our heart. These are the eyes of faith. These are the eyes that God can open to recognize his son and to assure our confidence, our hope.
This gives wonderful meaning to the words of the song we often sing . . . "Open the eyes of my heart, Lord, open the eyes of my heart! I want to see you. I want to see you . . . "
Saturday, January 19, 2008
Monday, January 14, 2008
Approved
Some months ago I was buying books in my favorite book store. I handed the books to the clerk who scanned them into the cash register and then nodded to me to swipe my credit card through the device on my side of the counter.
After I swiped my card, I stood idly gazing at the device, waiting patiently for the series of steps that would comprise the transaction. Then the word APPROVED appeared on the diminuative screen.
I suppose that on most days I wouldn't have paid much attention to the fact that some authority somewhere had granted me permission to spend too much money on the armload of books I had gathered.
On that particular day, however, the word APPROVED spoke deep into my heart. I was stunned by the eternal, all-encompassing acceptance that filled me, "pressed down, shaken together, and overflowing."
Somehow, God's inescapable love for me echoed through my consciousness. It was rich and thick and almost tangible, and I glanced at the clerk and the other shoppers, thinking that surely they too were aware of God's message. It was hard to believe that they were oblivious.
Only when the people around me smiled back at me, did I realize that I was beaming. Only then, did I take note of the light-hearted, joyous feeling welling up from inside me. I am accepted. I am okay.
Suddenly, nothing else mattered.
God has chosen me. When I respond to His outstretched hand, I am approved. I'm imperfect, but I am accepted on the basis of the Christ's perfection.
And not only am I approved, accepted, acknowledged . . . I am invited into the family. I am adopted and made an heir. Not only am I accepted today, but I have a brilliant future ahead.
What an amazing blessing.
After I swiped my card, I stood idly gazing at the device, waiting patiently for the series of steps that would comprise the transaction. Then the word APPROVED appeared on the diminuative screen.
I suppose that on most days I wouldn't have paid much attention to the fact that some authority somewhere had granted me permission to spend too much money on the armload of books I had gathered.
On that particular day, however, the word APPROVED spoke deep into my heart. I was stunned by the eternal, all-encompassing acceptance that filled me, "pressed down, shaken together, and overflowing."
Somehow, God's inescapable love for me echoed through my consciousness. It was rich and thick and almost tangible, and I glanced at the clerk and the other shoppers, thinking that surely they too were aware of God's message. It was hard to believe that they were oblivious.
Only when the people around me smiled back at me, did I realize that I was beaming. Only then, did I take note of the light-hearted, joyous feeling welling up from inside me. I am accepted. I am okay.
Suddenly, nothing else mattered.
God has chosen me. When I respond to His outstretched hand, I am approved. I'm imperfect, but I am accepted on the basis of the Christ's perfection.
And not only am I approved, accepted, acknowledged . . . I am invited into the family. I am adopted and made an heir. Not only am I accepted today, but I have a brilliant future ahead.
What an amazing blessing.
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Stand there
While reading the Exodus story recently, I rediscovered a verse I had marked long ago. It is Exodus 14.14. God is giving Moses instructions on how to prepare for the Egyptian army's onslaught. "The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still."
The footnote in my study bible comments on that verse: A necessary reminder that although Israel was "armed for battle" (13.18) and "marching out boldly" (v.8), the victory would be won by God alone.
This truth threads its way through the Bible, providing one of the consistent, clear messages we have about the character, the person of God.
Jonathan knows this. When he is bravely attacking the enemy, he states "Nothing can hinder the Lord from saving, whether by many or by few." I Sam14.6 He knows that his own efforts are within the larger context of God's action.
David knows this. When he stands up to Goliath, he says "All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the Lord saves; for the battle is the Lord's and he will give all of you into our hands." I Sam 17.47 The battle belongs to the Lord.
When threatened by terrifying attacking armies, God's prophet tells Jehoshaphat, "the battle is not yours, but God's" and Jehoshaphat is so convinced that he marches out to meet the enemy with his singers out front -- singers shouting the praises of God! 2 Chron 20
In Ephesians, we are told to put on the armor of God, to dress for battle. It is a wonderful "call to arms" but once suited up for war, what are we told to do? Stand. Stand firm. And pray. Just as He told Moses to be still, we are told to stand.
We are called to line up on his side. We are chosen to be on the winning team. We are invited to rest in the power of his strong arm. Our fortress and our strength. It's up to us to respond to that call. It's up to us to wear the jersey, the uniform proudly, being identified as one of God's. But the hard work, the saving work belongs to God. We can't save ourselves. We can only stand by and watch Him work his saving miracle on our behalf.
And when we align ourselves with Him, we are more than conquerors. After all, if God is for us, who can be against us? How amazing is that!? And nothing can separate us from his commitment to us. Romans 8:28-39
When I was a child I was often told 'Don't just stand there, do something.' Not long ago I heard that God might say to us, 'Don't DO something, just stand there.'
This does not mean that we are to shut down completely; we are called to good works. What it does mean is that our salvation is assured by the glorious work of God and He deserves my praise and adoration.
Be still and know that I am God. Ps 46:10
The footnote in my study bible comments on that verse: A necessary reminder that although Israel was "armed for battle" (13.18) and "marching out boldly" (v.8), the victory would be won by God alone.
This truth threads its way through the Bible, providing one of the consistent, clear messages we have about the character, the person of God.
Jonathan knows this. When he is bravely attacking the enemy, he states "Nothing can hinder the Lord from saving, whether by many or by few." I Sam14.6 He knows that his own efforts are within the larger context of God's action.
David knows this. When he stands up to Goliath, he says "All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the Lord saves; for the battle is the Lord's and he will give all of you into our hands." I Sam 17.47 The battle belongs to the Lord.
When threatened by terrifying attacking armies, God's prophet tells Jehoshaphat, "the battle is not yours, but God's" and Jehoshaphat is so convinced that he marches out to meet the enemy with his singers out front -- singers shouting the praises of God! 2 Chron 20
In Ephesians, we are told to put on the armor of God, to dress for battle. It is a wonderful "call to arms" but once suited up for war, what are we told to do? Stand. Stand firm. And pray. Just as He told Moses to be still, we are told to stand.
We are called to line up on his side. We are chosen to be on the winning team. We are invited to rest in the power of his strong arm. Our fortress and our strength. It's up to us to respond to that call. It's up to us to wear the jersey, the uniform proudly, being identified as one of God's. But the hard work, the saving work belongs to God. We can't save ourselves. We can only stand by and watch Him work his saving miracle on our behalf.
I think this is hard for people raised in a culture that takes such pride in self-sufficiency, in pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps, in the can-do spirit. We want to wrestle control out of God's hands so that we can take charge and do it ourselves.
This is where we have to separate ourselves from our culture. We have to learn to be still and accept the fact that this is something we can't do for ourselves. The battle belongs to the Lord.And when we align ourselves with Him, we are more than conquerors. After all, if God is for us, who can be against us? How amazing is that!? And nothing can separate us from his commitment to us. Romans 8:28-39
When I was a child I was often told 'Don't just stand there, do something.' Not long ago I heard that God might say to us, 'Don't DO something, just stand there.'
This does not mean that we are to shut down completely; we are called to good works. What it does mean is that our salvation is assured by the glorious work of God and He deserves my praise and adoration.
Be still and know that I am God. Ps 46:10
Monday, December 10, 2007
An excerpt
from Eat This Book by Eugene Peterson: (no comment from me needed!)
"What we must never be encouraged to do, although all of us are guilty of it over and over, is to force Scripture to fit our experience. Our experience is too small; it's like trying to put the ocean in a thimble. What we want is to fit into the world revealed by Scripture, to swim in this vast ocean.
"What we are after is first noticing and then participating in the way the large world of the Bible absorbs the much smaller world of our science and economics and politics that provides the so-called world-view in which we are used to working out our daily concerns.
"This means we have to abandon all condescending approaches to the Bible. Most of us have been trained in what is sometimes termed a "hermeneutics of suspicion." People lie a lot. And people who write lie more than most. We are taught to bring a healthy suspicion to everything we read, especially when it claims authority over us. What's going on here? What's the hidden agenda? What's behind all of this? The three modern masters of the hermeneutic of suspicion are Nietzsche, Marx, and Freud. They taught us well to take nothing at face value.
"Much of this is useful. We don't want to be taken in, manipulated by clever wordsmiths or enticed by skilled publicists and advertisers to buy things we don't want and will never use, involved in some soul-destroying program by a smooth-talking propagandist. In matters that have to do with God, we are doubly on our guard, suspicious of everything and everyone, including the Bible. We've learned to our sorrow that religious people lie more than most others -- and lies in the name of God are the worst lies of all.
"But as we narrow our eyes in suspicion, the world is correspondingly narrowed down. And when we take these reading habits to our reading of Holy Scripture, we end up with a small sawdust heap of facts.
"Paul Ricoeur has wonderful counsel for people like us. Go ahead, he says, maintain and practice your hermeneutics of suspicion. It is important to do this. Not only important, it is necessary. There are a lot of lies out there; learn to discern the truth and throw out the junk. But then reenter the book, the world, with what he calls "a second naivete." Look at the world with childlike wonder, ready to be startled into surprised delight by the profuse abundance of truth and beauty and goodness that is spilling out of the skies at every moment. Cultivate a hermeneutics of adoration -- see how large, how splendid, how magnificent life is.
"And then practice this hermeneutic of adoration in the reading of Holy Scripture. Plan on spending the rest of your lives exploring and enjoying the world both vast and intricate that is revealed by this text."
"What we must never be encouraged to do, although all of us are guilty of it over and over, is to force Scripture to fit our experience. Our experience is too small; it's like trying to put the ocean in a thimble. What we want is to fit into the world revealed by Scripture, to swim in this vast ocean.
"What we are after is first noticing and then participating in the way the large world of the Bible absorbs the much smaller world of our science and economics and politics that provides the so-called world-view in which we are used to working out our daily concerns.
"This means we have to abandon all condescending approaches to the Bible. Most of us have been trained in what is sometimes termed a "hermeneutics of suspicion." People lie a lot. And people who write lie more than most. We are taught to bring a healthy suspicion to everything we read, especially when it claims authority over us. What's going on here? What's the hidden agenda? What's behind all of this? The three modern masters of the hermeneutic of suspicion are Nietzsche, Marx, and Freud. They taught us well to take nothing at face value.
"Much of this is useful. We don't want to be taken in, manipulated by clever wordsmiths or enticed by skilled publicists and advertisers to buy things we don't want and will never use, involved in some soul-destroying program by a smooth-talking propagandist. In matters that have to do with God, we are doubly on our guard, suspicious of everything and everyone, including the Bible. We've learned to our sorrow that religious people lie more than most others -- and lies in the name of God are the worst lies of all.
"But as we narrow our eyes in suspicion, the world is correspondingly narrowed down. And when we take these reading habits to our reading of Holy Scripture, we end up with a small sawdust heap of facts.
"Paul Ricoeur has wonderful counsel for people like us. Go ahead, he says, maintain and practice your hermeneutics of suspicion. It is important to do this. Not only important, it is necessary. There are a lot of lies out there; learn to discern the truth and throw out the junk. But then reenter the book, the world, with what he calls "a second naivete." Look at the world with childlike wonder, ready to be startled into surprised delight by the profuse abundance of truth and beauty and goodness that is spilling out of the skies at every moment. Cultivate a hermeneutics of adoration -- see how large, how splendid, how magnificent life is.
"And then practice this hermeneutic of adoration in the reading of Holy Scripture. Plan on spending the rest of your lives exploring and enjoying the world both vast and intricate that is revealed by this text."
Thursday, December 6, 2007
The Good Towels
Recently my mother-in-law came to visit for a few days.
I had just completed some refurbishing around the house that included some work in the guest room and guest bath. I was pleased that she would get the benefits of the time/dollars I had spent in that area.
On the day she was to leave, she told me that she had been careful not to disturb my new towels. She said that she had found some old towels to use and would take them to the laundry room before she started home.
I was stunned. She hadn't taken advantage of the offering I had made. In fact, she had gone to extra effort to avoid what I had provided. She had dug into the back of the cabinet to find some nearly threadbare, unraveling towels that I didn't know were there.
I felt sad and frustrated. I know that she was trying to be nice; I know her actions were not meant to sadden me, but I would have enjoyed doing something special for her.
I wondered if we do similar things to God. Thinking about the blessing of prayer, I know that God has told us in many different words that we should pray, pray continually, pray persistently. He tells us how to connect with Him. He invites us.
Then we decide that this isn't big enough to pray about, or this isn't something I should bother God about, or this is something I should be able to handle on my own. And we don't accept his offer to us.
Instead, we try to bear the load alone. We struggle. We hurt. When all the while, He would dearly love to be able respond to our prayers.
It seems that we aren't very good at accepting gifts. We aren't very good at enjoying the moment. Or, perhaps we get confused and try to apply the principles of sacrifice in the wrong circumstances.
Sometimes it's okay to use the good towels, be grateful for them, and enjoy them.
I had just completed some refurbishing around the house that included some work in the guest room and guest bath. I was pleased that she would get the benefits of the time/dollars I had spent in that area.
On the day she was to leave, she told me that she had been careful not to disturb my new towels. She said that she had found some old towels to use and would take them to the laundry room before she started home.
I was stunned. She hadn't taken advantage of the offering I had made. In fact, she had gone to extra effort to avoid what I had provided. She had dug into the back of the cabinet to find some nearly threadbare, unraveling towels that I didn't know were there.
I felt sad and frustrated. I know that she was trying to be nice; I know her actions were not meant to sadden me, but I would have enjoyed doing something special for her.
I wondered if we do similar things to God. Thinking about the blessing of prayer, I know that God has told us in many different words that we should pray, pray continually, pray persistently. He tells us how to connect with Him. He invites us.
Then we decide that this isn't big enough to pray about, or this isn't something I should bother God about, or this is something I should be able to handle on my own. And we don't accept his offer to us.
Instead, we try to bear the load alone. We struggle. We hurt. When all the while, He would dearly love to be able respond to our prayers.
It seems that we aren't very good at accepting gifts. We aren't very good at enjoying the moment. Or, perhaps we get confused and try to apply the principles of sacrifice in the wrong circumstances.
Sometimes it's okay to use the good towels, be grateful for them, and enjoy them.
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Way
Finding the way is an interesting process.
Sometimes I have specific directions to follow. Go 3/10 of a mile to the purple house and turn left. I love people who can give clear, concise directions.
Sometimes I know generally where I am going, and I use the trial and error method to find my way. I know it's got to be somewhere along here. No, this is a dead-end. It must be the next street. This works if I have some basic knowledge to start with, such as I know the park is near the top of the hill or I know her house is in this neighborhood.
Jesus doesn't give us detailed directions; he has a different approach. He tells us that he is the way. An odd statement, when you think of it. We are given a person, instead of a set of steps.
So, we examine his words to learn how to live. We examine his life to see what it looks like. We complain that there are too many expectations. We complain that the rules aren't clear enough. Either way, we make excuses for why we can't be just like Jesus.
Henry Blackaby writes, "Suppose you had to cross a field full of land mines. A person who knew exactly where everyone of them was buried offered to take you through it. Would you say to him, 'I don't want you to tell me what to do. I don't want you to impose your ways on me?' I don't know about you, but I would stay as close to that person as I could. I certainly would not go wandering off. His directions to me would preserve my life. He would say, 'Don't go that way, because that way will kill you. Go this way and you will live.'
Too many of us read that paragraph and think we would certainly follow the way if we thought there were land mines around, if we thought it was a matter of life or death . . . only later do we think: oh yeah, it IS a matter of life and death.
Sometimes I have specific directions to follow. Go 3/10 of a mile to the purple house and turn left. I love people who can give clear, concise directions.
Sometimes I know generally where I am going, and I use the trial and error method to find my way. I know it's got to be somewhere along here. No, this is a dead-end. It must be the next street. This works if I have some basic knowledge to start with, such as I know the park is near the top of the hill or I know her house is in this neighborhood.
Jesus doesn't give us detailed directions; he has a different approach. He tells us that he is the way. An odd statement, when you think of it. We are given a person, instead of a set of steps.
So, we examine his words to learn how to live. We examine his life to see what it looks like. We complain that there are too many expectations. We complain that the rules aren't clear enough. Either way, we make excuses for why we can't be just like Jesus.
Henry Blackaby writes, "Suppose you had to cross a field full of land mines. A person who knew exactly where everyone of them was buried offered to take you through it. Would you say to him, 'I don't want you to tell me what to do. I don't want you to impose your ways on me?' I don't know about you, but I would stay as close to that person as I could. I certainly would not go wandering off. His directions to me would preserve my life. He would say, 'Don't go that way, because that way will kill you. Go this way and you will live.'
Too many of us read that paragraph and think we would certainly follow the way if we thought there were land mines around, if we thought it was a matter of life or death . . . only later do we think: oh yeah, it IS a matter of life and death.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Nearness
Lately I've been noticing how often I run across the word "near" in the New Testament.
John the Baptist and then Jesus himself tell us that the kingdom is near (Matt 3:2, Matt 4.17) . Jesus instructs his disciples to preach the same message (Matt 10.7).
The power, the authority of the God of the Universe is close to us, is immediate, is imminent. The message seems to be, "Pay attention! Something BIG is going on right under your nose!"
Later on, Paul preaches in Athens and explains to his audience that God is not far from us. He too is telling his listeners, "You have the wrong idea about the Almighty God; he isn't up on Mount Olympus, sequestered in his palace. He is close at hand."
To impress this idea on us, Jesus emptied himself and came to this earth as a human. Emmanuel -- God with us!
Along with our other ideas about God -- omnipotent, omnicient, omnipresent -- we need to add the idea of nearness. Attentiveness. Involvedness. Immediacy.
When a family or friends have a strong relationship, we call them "close" and we mean that there is an intimacy between them. Our God offers us this kind of relationship with Him, and he has taken the first step, coming near to us.
He doesn't stop there. He works to move us closer to him. Eph. 2:13 mentions that we "who once were far away have been brought near through the blood of Christ."
This closeness changes our lives. We are to rejoice, be gentle, and not be anxious -- because the Lord is near and that gives us peace! (Phil 4:4-7) The writer of Hebrews advises us that by drawing near to God we can have assurance and hope (Heb 10:22-24) and can encourage each other.
And not only is God near us, but Christ's return is near too. And that nearness can help us be patient and stand firm, according to James (5:8).
John opens his Revelation (1:3) by saying that the time for Jesus' return is near. I hear this to mean more than hours/minutes of human time -- I hear this as comfort that our God has not abandoned us; He is near. Imminent.
His power is only lightly veiled from our consciousness. His love is juxtaposed against our daily decisions. Since God is omnipresent, being near can't speak just to physical proximity. Since God (and Jesus' return) is outside of the structure of time, being near can't just speak to days/months.
Perhaps nearness speaks more to accessibility. God is near.
John the Baptist and then Jesus himself tell us that the kingdom is near (Matt 3:2, Matt 4.17) . Jesus instructs his disciples to preach the same message (Matt 10.7).
The power, the authority of the God of the Universe is close to us, is immediate, is imminent. The message seems to be, "Pay attention! Something BIG is going on right under your nose!"
Later on, Paul preaches in Athens and explains to his audience that God is not far from us. He too is telling his listeners, "You have the wrong idea about the Almighty God; he isn't up on Mount Olympus, sequestered in his palace. He is close at hand."
To impress this idea on us, Jesus emptied himself and came to this earth as a human. Emmanuel -- God with us!
Along with our other ideas about God -- omnipotent, omnicient, omnipresent -- we need to add the idea of nearness. Attentiveness. Involvedness. Immediacy.
When a family or friends have a strong relationship, we call them "close" and we mean that there is an intimacy between them. Our God offers us this kind of relationship with Him, and he has taken the first step, coming near to us.
He doesn't stop there. He works to move us closer to him. Eph. 2:13 mentions that we "who once were far away have been brought near through the blood of Christ."
This closeness changes our lives. We are to rejoice, be gentle, and not be anxious -- because the Lord is near and that gives us peace! (Phil 4:4-7) The writer of Hebrews advises us that by drawing near to God we can have assurance and hope (Heb 10:22-24) and can encourage each other.
And not only is God near us, but Christ's return is near too. And that nearness can help us be patient and stand firm, according to James (5:8).
John opens his Revelation (1:3) by saying that the time for Jesus' return is near. I hear this to mean more than hours/minutes of human time -- I hear this as comfort that our God has not abandoned us; He is near. Imminent.
His power is only lightly veiled from our consciousness. His love is juxtaposed against our daily decisions. Since God is omnipresent, being near can't speak just to physical proximity. Since God (and Jesus' return) is outside of the structure of time, being near can't just speak to days/months.
Perhaps nearness speaks more to accessibility. God is near.
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