The Evergreen Oak

All winter long, while other trees were bare, one proud oak remained green and leafy.  But on closer inspection, the leaves proved not to be its own: it was the host of masses of evergreen mistletoe and lichens.  Slowly, the parasites had taken over this once mighty tree, lending it an illusion of continual life even while draining it of its strength.  When the trees around it that had appeared dead began to show their lively young green once again, its own appearance of life began to pale in comparison to the real life it was now too enfeebled to display.  It remained dull green, leafy . . . and dead inside.

How often do our lives reflect the false life of this oak?  We are ashamed to look bare and empty, so we cover ourselves with substitutes to disguise the lack we feel of the real life God would have for us.  But upon encountering true life in its humble vibrancy, we can see the worthlessness of our sorry attempts.  We would not wait for God to bring color to our lives in His time and His way, and now we reap the reward: weakness and inability to live an unhindered, growing life.  The parasitical substitutes must be cut away before they kill our hearts and leave us nothing but a dead host for dull, worthless habits.  In the seasons of dormancy, let us not be deceived by our lack of glorious life, but be assured that God is preparing us in the winter for a flourishing spring of His grace.  Wait for Him!

A Child's Faith

“The stranger himself did not make her afraid.  On the contrary, he reassured her. . . . Since she had met this goodman in the wood, it seemed as though all things were changed about her. . . . Before her soul was cold, now it was warm.  Cosette was no longer afraid . . . she was no longer alone; she had somebody to look to.”

~Les Misérables, by Victor Hugo

It is the nature of young children to be trusting.  Indeed, they often must be taught to be wary of strangers, because to them, any kind person may instantly become a friend with whom they will be willing to go anywhere or do anything.  They do not take into account their companions’ appearance, reputation, name, or status, only the affection and acceptance they offer.  They will readily believe anything that a trusted adult tells them.  Innocently gullible as they are, they possess a refreshing trait which most of their elders have lost: they are uncalculating in their response to love, their hearts not yet hardened and skeptical.

In adulthood, experience too often leads us to demand assurance before we will risk opening our hearts to another person.  We have to know first: well-informed (or perhaps uninformed) judgments and suppositions about others take the place of child-like trust.  We have concluded that we must guard our own safety, manage our own provision, and depend on no one.  A child trusts only because he can’t manage alone; we can take care of ourselves.

Just as a child’s trusting attitude toward man can be so easily directed in simple faith to God, the grown-up’s independent distrust of his fellows likewise may correspond to his view of his Creator.  It is a great risk to put his whole life in the hands of One he cannot see or understand.  He continually seeks proof of God’s goodness, afraid to respond unreservedly, like an innocent child, to the love showered on him.  No wonder Jesus says that only the childlike will enter His Kingdom!  A child’s faith can put his teachers to shame – he is told that God is good, and he believes it without question.  He may know next to nothing about theology, but to him, God is real, and He is his Friend.  Such a child knows what we are so quick to forget: we are not alone; we have Somebody to look to, if we will.  May we become like children again, throw all self-preserving skepticism to the wind, and take His hand in fearless trust.

"I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the

Kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it."

Mark 10:15

Dominion

With my family's recent bathroom remodel and thoughts of an addition, I've been thinking a good deal lately about a home, a place to call my own.  The thought of a palace, a dominion, a land to tend and rule however small, excites me, just as it has countless souls since the world began.  This quest for a homeland has been the drive that scattered mankind to the farthest corners of the earth -- the command to "fill the earth and subdue it" is stamped forever in the very core of our being.  Pride has corrupted the urge into a lust for power and supremacy, but still the desire to do as we were made to do is inescapable.

God created earth to be inhabited by Man, a special being created in His likeness to be a reflection of the Great Ruler.  All that God is, He desires us to be on a humble, finite scale, pointing always to Him.  The position of authority afforded by a dominion, even the smallest, is an ideal platform from which to portray the attributes of the Creator; it is a thing to be taken very seriously.  Not even in Heaven will we lose the inborn requirement of a home of our own -- Jesus said, "In My Father's house are many mansions (dwelling places, rooms); I go to prepare a place for you."  We will continue the mandate given from the beginning, no longer tainted with the will to supplant God's Lordship, but as the faithful stewards we were designed to be.  Let us begin now with what palaces and lands as we are given!

"Well done, good and faithful servant;

you were faithful over a few things,

I will make you ruler over many things.

 Enter into the joy of your Lord."

Matthew 25:21

Finite Grace?

"Grace is not infinite." I instinctively recoiled at these heretical words, as I deemed them, yet on further consideration, I conceded that, depending on what kind of grace we're talking about, there may be truth in them. For me, as for most Christians, the word "grace" instantly brought to mind saving grace, God's gift of salvation through Jesus, or, "God's Riches At Christ's Expense." But that definition leaves out far too much. Perhaps a better definition of grace would be "something good that you don't deserve." Saving grace definitely falls under that, but it is not the only kind of grace, nor is grace strictly limited to being expressed by God.

Another kind of grace is what I might call general grace: the grace that all mankind receives, regardless of their relationship with God. Every living human being is sustained by God's hand. Air, light, food, water, DNA, an earth to live on . . . all of it is grace. God is in no way entitled to give us life or anything else, but He chooses to do so. Some will complain, "But so many people suffer for lack of those things -- God isn't fair." You're right, God isn't fair; He shouldn't give any of us anything at all since none of us deserve it. By definition, grace cannot be "withheld" since it isn't merited in the first place.

In context, the statement "grace is not infinite" actually referred specifically to yet another kind of grace, what I would term special grace. This is the sort of grace we typically pray for, that extra help for particular needs.  The shifting of circumstances, material abundance beyond our labor, unexplained strength of body or mind in a crucial moment . . . these are grace. Special grace is supernatural aid for a particular situation, and it rarely happens the same way twice. This is the sort of grace we most often try to "earn", forgetting that God is not impressed by our efforts to be deserving. True, He often gives rewards to His obedient children, but even these are grace, since we did nothing to earn the saving grace that originally brought us into His favor.

So then, is grace really infinite or not? In the case of saving grace, it is infinite in the sense that a child of God will never "fall from grace" once he is born into God's family. But saving grace is also unique in the sense that it must be asked for, in which case it may be said to be finite, though it is enough to cover all who come. How about general grace? Surely in this fallen world it cannot be infinite -- a quick glance over the ruins of sin will reveal many seemingly "God-forsaken" lands. Yet even in the middle of the Sahara life may be found. Though that might more likely fall under special grace! Special grace is easy to call finite: it is certainly not always available at our slightest wish.  Still, is not God infinitely powerful?

In the end, it is in a sense true that grace is not infinite. But God is. Grace is not God. God gives grace. Because it is part of His infinite nature, His supply of grace is endless, but the manifestation of it is carefully measured by His infinite knowledge and wisdom. Some of us act like we can wheedle grace out of God, but if we could, it would not be grace at all. Let us be thankful for the grace He chooses to give us, and strive to be like Him in giving grace to others!

Now to him who works, the wages are

not counted as grace but as debt.

Romans 4:4

Be With Him

And He said, "My Presence will go

with you, and I will give you rest."

Exodus 33:14

When Moses asked God for direction and proof of His grace, this was God's simple reply -- no answer to his urgent questions, just gentle, kind reassurance of His Presence.  He didn't tell him where to go, or when, or with whom, only that when he went, God would be right there.  I'm so often like Moses, arguing with God, "You have said, 'I know you by name and you have found grace in My sight.' . . . show me now your way . . . that I may find grace in Your sight."  (Ex. 33:12-13)  I know I belong to God, but I'm tempted to doubt His grace unless I know what He's doing, or I imagine that His grace depends on me knowing and doing what He wants.

I'm afraid we tend to see God as an Employer -- He's given us a job to do, and if we don't keep up He'll leave us behind.  And half the time we're not even sure what the job is, let alone how to keep up, so we throw a fit at God, "Just hurry up and tell me what I'm supposed to do!" so we can get on with it and feel good about our performance, maybe even earn His praise.  Pride and lack of trust, plain and simple.  God's invitation is not a "Now Hiring" sign.  He wants children and friends, not employees.  Yes, our Heavenly Father may expect us to do some chores, but that's not His main purpose with us.  Mostly, He just longs to be with us, starting now.  Let's stop getting so worked up about work, and rest in His Presence!

"Father, I want those you have given Me

to be with Me where I am . . ."

John 17:24

Dance!

“Life’s a dance” they say, and the parallel is quite fitting, as I’ve been reminded in my recent opportunities to participate in some English country dancing.  Besides being wonderful exercise, dance certainly tests one’s skill of mind, especially under pressure!  Learning the steps can make for plenty of amusing blunders, but once you’ve got it down, it’s a thrill to be part of perhaps a sizable crowd all moving together in time with the merry music.  Dancing is no idle game physically or mentally, and it also connects dramatically with our souls.  My grandma requested that we dance at her funeral, and for good reason: it’s very hard to dance and be sad at the same time!  Even in scripture, dancing is one of the highest expressions of joy and celebration – Miriam danced after the crossing of the Red Sea, the women danced after David killed Goliath, and David himself danced when the ark of God was brought to the city.  It’s a natural human reaction to overflowing joy – we just can’t keep still!

Dancing with others requires careful coordination and cooperation if it’s going to work smoothly.  So it is with life: we can’t make it work alone, and we can’t make it work well without doing our part and helping others do theirs.  As in an intricate dance, we each have a role to fulfill at the right time and place, and if we don’t step up when it is needed, the whole thing will go wrong.  It’s easy in life to imagine that we are not really needed, to stand by and watch while others take care of things.  Perhaps our part feels small and boring, like the corner position of a post jig.  But if we are not faithful with the role we happen to have, the people around us will suffer for it.  In the dance of life, we must work together!

And in order to work together, we must all be listening to the same directions.  One person may perform the steps of the Spanish waltz flawlessly, but if everyone else is dancing to a different tune, the result will be a complete failure.  So in life: we will run into each other with perhaps disastrous results if we are not all obediently under the direction of one dance Caller, God Himself.  He chooses the tune and the steps, and the results will be beautiful only if we pay close attention to His plan, and only His plan.  When we do, we will find success and thrilling joy.  God wants to have fun with us – the rules are not there to restrict us, but to guide us for the greatest enjoyment of His plan.  So dance!  Dance through life according to God’s perfect choreography, and whenever you get the chance, dance for joy on your own two feet!

Let them praise His name with the dance . . .

Psalm 149:3

Immortality

Humankind has always longed for immortality.  Legends and stories are full of the pursuit of it, and now, with today's technology, we still do everything we can to not die -- sometimes it seems that the goal of life is just to keep it going as long as possible.  Yet at the same time, immortality is seen as a thing to be feared -- we would have to admit that death is actually a mercy compared to living on forever in the world as it is going.  Yet still we refuse to resign ourselves to it.  We hate the thought of getting old, but what else do you think will happen if you don't die young?  Is there an answer?  Or are we doomed to go on searching for something we can't have and, come to think of it, don't really want?

I venture to suggest that the reason mankind can't stop thinking about immortality is because we are immortal.  And somewhere deep down, we all know it.  Whether we like it or not, we will continue to exist forever, and whether we will like it or not depends entirely on our choices in our "mortal" life (which is merely a prelude or "trial run" before the continuation of it).  Or should I say, our Choice -- either to trust God's plan of redemption from death through Jesus Christ, who defeated it on our behalf, and embrace the true life He offers, or to do the best we can to create our own artificial immortality and earn nothing but living death forever.  Yes, such an immortality we would do well to fear!  But the other promises glories beyond all we could imagine in a million years, because it will last far longer than that.  Is there any choice, really, when faced with these options?

What a difference it could make if we truly believed in our immortality!  Not only would we take seriously our own eternal well-being, but we would see others quite differently.  As C. S. Lewis says, "There are no ordinary people.  You have never talked to a mere mortal. . . . it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit -- immortal horrors or everlasting splendours."  Would that thought affect the way we treat and relate to others?  It should.  What kind of immortality will you have, and will the people around you share it?

"Our Savior, Christ Jesus . . .

has destroyed death and has

brought life and immortality

to light through the gospel."

2 Timothy 1:10

2013: The Year of Hope

"There, peeping among the cloud-wrack above a dark tor high up in the mountains, Sam saw a white star twinkle for a while. The beauty of it smote his heart, as he looked up out of the forsaken land, and hope returned to him. For like a shaft, clear and cold, the thought pierced him that in the end the Shadow was only a small and passing thing: there was light and high beauty for ever beyond its reach. His song in the tower had been defiance rather than hope; for then he was thinking of himself. Now, for a moment, his own fate, and even his master's, ceased to trouble him. He crawled back into the brambles and laid himself by Frodo's side, and putting away all fear, he cast himself into a deep untroubled sleep."

~The Lord of the Rings, by J. R. R. Tolkien

As this year wound down to mere days, I turned my mind to pondering what another year of life has taught me. At first, I could not come up with anything -- I felt I was in just the same place that I was at the close of last year. What word could sum up my year of trying, failing, and plodding on, contrasted on occasion with unforgettable once-in-a-lifetime experiences? Then it came to me: Hope. Of course! The word has come to mind countless times this year in various contexts, and has picked me up over and over when failure and futility would knock me down. The great hope of Heaven has grown in me more than ever -- with so much endless beauty to look forward to, what is a little trouble now? Dead earthly hopes are a very small thing in a very short while hardly worthy of notice when I consider eternity, where every hope I've ever had will find its fulfillment. Not that all earthly hope must die -- I am here yet, and hope remains for many desires to find their place in this life.

To me, Tolkien's picture of Sam and the star that renewed his hope is a splendid portrayal of the concept. There is beauty that no evil, no matter how dark it seems, will ever touch, and that is where our hope must be. If our hope is only for our own present well-being, we may well grit our teeth and defy anything that dares come between us and our desire. But if our hope is set on something outside of us that will be there no matter what life brings us, then we can forget our little selves and no fear can trouble us. Look up! Do you see only a star above the clouds? Only a star! Bright and lovely though it be, it seems only a tiny thing in the darkness; yet it is really something vast and awesome beyond all you have ever known. So is our hope. Because of God's grace, there is truly much to live for, both in this life and beyond!

To You, O Lord, I lift up my soul;

in You I trust, O my God. . . .

No one whose hope is in You

will ever be put to shame.

Psalm 25:1-3

The Outcast

For all the merriment and festivities, Christmas is a time of perhaps unequaled pain for many -- the bitterness of old memories, the sorrow of lost traditions, loneliness of another holiday without family and friends.   But was not even the first Christmas a time of turmoil, a story peopled with outcasts?  Mary surely lost her reputation, and nearly her fiancé, with the gossip of her pregnancy going around small-town Nazareth.  And what about Joseph -- what might people whisper behind his back when his bride turns up pregnant before the wedding?  What did their families think?  A trip to Bethlehem where no one would know the scandal was probably almost welcome, even if it was just another oppressive reminder that their nation was a slave of Rome.

And what of the Child?  Well, His loss on that first Christmas was greater than any of us will ever experience.  He left behind a perfect relationship with His Father in His perfect dwelling place, and came to a dingy, dark world where He was an inconvenience, a laughing-stock, without even a decent birthplace.  All His life, He was an outcast, misunderstood even by His family and closest friends.  And at the end they all abandoned Him to the most shameful death imaginable.  He understands bitter memories, sorrow, and loneliness.  And all out of love for us -- hurting outcast, turn to Him, the One who bore it all that you might share His joy.

He is despised and rejected by men,

a Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief . . .

Surely He has borne our griefs,

and carried our sorrows.

Isaiah 53:3-4

Busy

Running in circles, too busy to think
So much to do, today's gone in a blink
This thing is urgent, it must happen now
I know You're important, but just tell me how
I can possibly quit all that's lined up to do
For even one hour of time just with You
What would she think, and what about him
If I suddenly stop being all that I've been
I'm committed to that and I've always done this
But somehow this stuff isn't bringing me bliss
I'm stubborn and selfish, I want it my way
I'm too scared to hear what You'd have to say
You might say I'll have to drop this and wait
Or You might tell me to love the people I hate
But I guess I should listen since You know what's best
And only with You will I fully have rest
Whatever I do and want is too small
If it steals me from Jesus, my Master, my All