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For Abby And Justus
Today is the birthday of my beautiful daughter-in-law Abigail and the anniversary of her engagement to my son Justus. Justus and Abby were married this January, in the jaws of the pandemic. Their wedding was a sign of hope, I think, for their generation. But I was not there. This is a little piece I wrote while sick with COVID, processing my grief over missing the wedding along with my joy in their union. Happy Birthday, Abby! I am so thankful for you!
Sequestered in my room for 6 days now, I’ve had lots of time to think about snow and Kevin’s post on pilgrimage. His writing reminded me of a pilgrimage Thomas and I made in January of 2010, to Antioch in Turkey. We left on Jan. 6, Three Kings Day, a fitting day to set forth on a spiritual journey. It was cold that day, with a cover of low gray clouds. I felt chilled.
The plane took off and flew through the gray mist for several minutes. Then all of a sudden, the plane broke out of the clouds. To my great shock, the sun was shining brightly up there above the clouds! It shone through my little cabin window, falling on my knees and warming my body. I felt silly being surprised by the sun, but I was both surprised and elated. I realized for the first time that from God’s perspective the sun is always shining. It is always daylight to Him. And clouds seen from above are white and beautiful, not gray and ominous.
Of course, the Lord is aware of our clouds. He has compassion on His children who must endure the chill of the journey. But He is in control , and to borrow a phrase from Tolkien, “none of His ways are needless.”
I was in bed with a raging fever as the snow fell. In a way, I was thankful for the fever because it kept my mind from thinking too much about my son’s wedding which I had missed that day. I drifted in and out of consciousness, largely unable to focus on the livestream of the wedding. Later, In the darkness of the night I woke up panicked. “I missed my son’s wedding! I may have exposed loved ones to Covid! I have to get up and pray! But what should I pray?”
In answer to my feverish questions, I heard these words in my spirit, “We know that everything works together for the good of those who love God, to those called according to His purpose.”
So that is what I prayed. Peace filled my heart and I fell asleep happy that snow was falling on Justus and Abby.
Part of pilgrimage is letting go and moving on. I never imagined that I would miss my son’s wedding! I could not have born the grief to know that ahead of time. But when the day came, Thomas and I were still full of joy - the kind of joy John the Baptist describes as the friend of the Bridegroom. “He must increase and I must decrease.”
In every age, the elders must bless and make room for the next generation. We who are older must find joy in God’s anointing on those who are younger. We must cheer them on with love and prayers and sacrifice as they run to places we have never been.
I feel this joy in the midst of the clouds of pandemic. God holds our future in His hand. He sits above the clouds where it is always light. He is planning a wedding for His Son and on that day, I will be well!
Good Works
Our hosts Mike and Beverly are the “workmanship of God, created for good works in Christ., ‘ One of their gifts is joyful, peace-filled hospitality.
Thomas and I are in Georgia this week visiting a an ecumenical, covenanted community composed of families, priests and singles. Most of the Alleluia families are Catholic, but there are several Protestants among them. This weekend a Greek Orthodox priest joined their ranks. He is sitting on the porch now talking with Thomas. The fellowship we’ve experienced these past two days has been rich, deep and effortless through the grace of the Holy Spirit. Being here I am more aware of the truth that Jesus lives in His people.
The calling of the Alleluia community is to be a People, a visible manifestation of the Kingdom of God on earth. Their commitment is to love one another, to live in the light of Christ. There is no outward mission they hold in common, but from the community a myriad of gifts flow outward to the greater Body of Christ, and to the world at large.
This dynamic reminds me of one of my favorite songs written by my brother Nowlin. I love the way he has worded Paul’s message from Ephesians 2.
We're not saved by works,
But we are saved for good works.
We're not saved by works,
But we are saved for good works
That God prepared beforehand
That we might walk in them
For as we love the least of these
So we have loved him.
So deny yourself
And let your light so shine
That men might see
Your good works and glorify
Your father who's in heaven
So deny yourself
And let your light so shine
That men might see
Your good works and glorify
Your father who's in heaven
We're not saved by works,
But we are saved for good works.
We're not saved by works,
But we are saved for good works
That God prepared beforehand
That we might walk in them
For as we love the least of these
So we have loved him.
Thank you, Jesus, for saving me! Thank you for preparing good works for me!
Beauty
The mountains overlooking Angel Fire, NM where I spent my 6th grade year.
This is a chapter from the book I am writing with my father.
April, 2021
I came to write this morning at a friend’s house. She lives in the country on some acreage. I intended to do some editing, or perhaps work on the difficult parts of this story, but I find myself distracted by spring. Trees are blooming and bees are buzzing among them. I want to go smell the blossoms, but not just yet. It is too wet. A thick dew covers the field, like a carpet of soft diamonds casting tiny rainbows. The air is cool, but the sun shines warmly through the window and its rays still my soul.
Sunlight has healing power. This is a medical truth. Ultraviolet light spurs our bodies to make Vitamin D - a feat not so awesome as photosynthesis, perhaps, but akin to the miraculous power of pants. Vitamin D cures the rickets and improves the one’s mood. My skin drinks in those UV rays and I feel happy.
Light is an attribute of God. John, the beloved apostle, tells us that, “God is light ; in Him there is no darkness at all.” Beauty is also an attribute of God. Our Father in heaven is glorious. He is robed in splendor and the earth is filled with His beauty. Light and beauty are cousins, I believe, working similar cures upon the soul. I first discovered the power of beauty as a young child on vacation in the mountains. Every summer, and some long weekends as well, my grandfather would pack up our family of four and drive us to Ruidoso, NM. My sister and I would fall asleep in the car as Gid piloted our station wagon through the dark. I will never forget the thrill of waking up to smell of pine trees and chill of fresh mountain air, stars shining through the branches above our little cabin. In the mountains waves of exhilaration shot through my body, stunning fear, shame, and sadness into silence. The mountains swept me up in their glory. I ran and laughed knowing I, too, was a beloved creature of the mountains’ Maker. And I knew my grandparents must love me to share this place with me.
The Rocky Mountains had a similar effect on my mother and stepfather. When I was ten years old, our family bought a house in Angel Fire, New Mexico. It was an impractical move. There were no jobs to be had there. After 18 months were returned to Texas, but what a glorious vacation it was!
We lived on the edge of civilization. I could walk outdoors and wander forever, it seemed, without encountering another human or building or any trace of men. And wander I did. My sister and I played in the stream beneath our house. We picked wild raspberries and strawberries. We went sledding and caught snowflakes big as butterflies in our hands. Sometimes I walked by myself with a heart so full it would burst into song. And my Father in heaven was watching all the time. Those mountains were His hospital.
The beauty of nature cannot heal every wound. Some hurts lie beyond its reach. There are souls unable drink nature’s elixir, for their sickness has made them too weak – like a patient who cannot take solid food. There are others who revolt against creation’s lure, for this world is imperfect. It is fallen, riddled with violence, death and decay. Even the most pristine natural beauty cannot save a soul. We humans ache for something deeper still.
Yesterday I held my infant granddaughter in my arms, studying her toes and fingers, drinking in the beauty of her eyes. I watched her fall asleep in her mother’s arms. I saw my own daughter, transformed by motherhood, swimming in the wonder of this child. Once again, I was caught up in the Father’s love, amazed at His design.
The mystery of family is a gift deeper than physical beauty for it flows from the core of the Father’s own heart. It is an irrevocable gift which can be rejected, but not returned. My granddaughter would not exist apart from my daughter, who would not exist without me. I, in turn, received life from my parents. As painful and ill-advised as their union might have been, from it I was born. How can I be thankful enough for that?
To be fully reconciled with the Father is to see with His eyes. When we do, we will see our families the way He does. We will be fully alive, rejoicing in the gift of life. Not all familial relationship will be safe or healthy in this life, but in the Father’s house, all can be healed.
Paul says that every family on earth derives its name from the Father. And God promised Abraham that all families of the earth would be blessed though him. At the great banquet at the end of time, I believe we will be seated as families. Why? Because family is God’s design. At the very heart of the Triune God burns an eternal love between Father and Son, and from this love flows all light and beauty. From this love flows our adoption and transformation into sons and daughters of God.
In our Father’s house, beauty finds its perfection. There the lion lies down next to the lamb. The streets resound with the joy of a rushing river, and on its banks grows a tree unlike any other. This tree bears fruit continually, and its leaves will heal the nations. There is no sun in heaven for our Savior shines with the light of a thousand stars. Christ’s light will one day consume all our darkness. There is a beauty coming which will heal not only individual hearts, but all of history.
Unforgiveness
Door of the Day #91
Recently my friend Gaby from Vienna shared this testimony with me. It fits well with the lessons the Lord is teaching our community about the Accuser of the Brethren. With her permission I am posting it here.
Some years ago I stumbled across a booklet by Watchmen Nee.
(I only have it in German, where it is called Liberation if translated literally. Probably the booklet is called Deliverance in the English print version.)
Nee wrote basically that like there is a law of the flesh, there exists also a law of Life. And as Christ’s Life in us follows a “law” – meaning an order it displays, a way it functions – we can attend the life in us “without hindrance,” “without contributing something to it.”
I wanted that; I needed that. I stretched out for it, more of it. Did you ever try hard not to try hard? Did you ever contribute to your attempt not to contribute? This must have been what I did, though not consciously, as then something eye-opening happened.
God let a thorn be run into the thinnest part of my skin: injustice
Within a few days I was criticized unendingly, for this and for that and for nothing and on every level. I was criticized by friends, at work, and at the Prayer-House. Things I had done were a problem, things I had not done were a problem, and things I had done differently were a different problem. It wasn’t even about me; people were under pressure and the one they could pass it on to was me.
Then I came to the point were I found it was enough. I decided for myself that I had a right to be angry. What I mean by right to be angry is not the emotion; what I mean is the right to unforgiveness.
This was a deliberate sin I chose, yet what followed was not deliberate, but shocking. I had opened the door to evil just a gap and in flowed all hell. In a short time I found myself wrapped in hatred. I had believed this hatred to be long ago history; and I didn’t even recognize myself.
I was devastated until I understood that the Lord was teaching me. He seemed to say to me, “This IS the flesh, do you understand? Do you still think that you can contribute anything good? Do you think you can add anything, which is not ME? Do you think the outcome will be justice?”
This had been a drastic demonstration, but it showed the mere truth: All I can contribute is the problem; He alone is the solution! As my Prayer House mentor uses to say, “I only receive, and even that is His enabling!”
And if anyone doubted on God seeking to show us the intention of our heart, here you go! The reason for this steep descent was not only my will - it was the “why” behind it!
I did not seek God’s will in all of what happened with the endless criticisms. I did not even seek His answers. I sought to save myself – and drowned.
But what He showed me so drastically was what I “know” and yet believe only half-way: When I try to do bad or good out of myself the result will be the same. There is no good in my Adamic nature. And faster than I think I can serve the enemy. Not Him. Not even myself! My “I” will never be able to live in peace and love with anyone!
All I can do is receive Him in me… all it takes is an obedient “Yes”.
He knocks. I open the door.
For thus said the Lord GOD, the Holy One of Israel, “In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.”
Isaiah 30:15 ESV
Aaron's Beard
Sometimes, I find, the Holy Spirit breathes on a passage of scripture I have not noticed before. Details which once seemed insignificant jump to the fore. Or historical accounts I skimmed past quickly before, thinking them hard to follow, suddenly spring to life. Every time this happens, I am astounded at my blindness and humbled by God’s desire to open His story. He loves to be known by those who love Him.
Recently my daily devotion included a reading about the ordination of Aaron and his sons. The passage is from Exodus, one of my favorite books. I love the drama of the story. I am awed by God’s friendship with Moses. But I confess, the details of tabernacle worship are hard to visualize and I tend to skim past them.
However, on March 13, 2021, the Holy Spirit gave me a great gift, opening the “eyes of my heart.” I could see Moses and Aaron standing with all his sons at the entrance of the tabernacle on the day of their ordination. More importantly, I could feel the excitement with which the Trinity orchestrated and attended that day. The vesting of Aaron was both a turning point in Israel’s history event and a prophetic act. That day Israel became a people of worship, with a unique relationship to the Living God. They also became a prophetic people, enacting sacrifices which would point the whole world to its Savior. Here is what the LORD said to Moses.
“Now this is what you shall do to them to consecrate them to minister as priests to Me: take one young bull and two rams without blemish, and unleavened bread…. You shall put (the wafers) in one basket and present them in the basket along with the bull and the two rams. Then you shall bring Aaron and his sons to the doorway of the tent of meeting and wash them with water. You shall take the garments, and put on Aaron the tunic and the robe of the ephod and the ephod and the breastpiece, and gird him with the skillfully woven band of the ephod; and you shall set the turban on his head and put the holy crown on the turban. Then you shall take the anointing oil and pour it on his head and anoint him. You shall bring his sons and put tunics on them. You shall gird them with sashes, Aaron and his sons, and bind caps on them, and they shall have the priesthood by a perpetual statute. So you shall ordain Aaron and his sons.
Everything about the vesting of Aaron points to Jesus, our Great High Priest. Aaron is washed in water, a sign of Christ’s baptism. He is dressed in white linen symbolizing the perfect righteousness of the Lord. He is crowned as Jesus will be crowned King of all nations. He bears on His breastplate precious stones bearing the names of each tribe of Israel – a sign of Yeshua’s faithful love and remembrance of His people. And on this breastplate rest the Urim and Thummim through which the high priest discerns the judgments of God. In this way the high priest, like Jesus, is both minister and judge.
My mind was exploding with all these prophetic signs (and many more besides) when my attention was drawn to Aaron’s beard. I could see Moses pouring the oil over his brother’s head – consecrating him for a service which had never before been done on earth. I could feel the weight of that oil and smell its fragrance – a fragrance which rose to heaven. I knew the Trinity was present in that moment as Aaron stood surrounded by his brothers, and I suddenly understood, at least in part, David’s psalm.
Behold, how good and how pleasant it is
For brothers to dwell together in unity! It is like the precious oil upon the head,
Coming down upon the beard,
Even Aaron’s beard,
Coming down upon the edge of his robes.
It is like the dew of Hermon
Coming down upon the mountains of Zion;
For there the Lord commanded the blessing—life forever.
Aaron was anointed in the presence of His sons, because Jesus shares His priesthood with His brothers. Our unity is oil on our Savior’s beard, for it is the reason for His sacrifice. His sacrifice is our life eternal, in union with Him. And His joy is to share with us His dominion, His judgments, and His love for the Father. When we walk in unity we bless our great High priest. We honor His sacrifice, and we, like Aaron’s extended family, eat of His holy gifts.
But when we fail to walk in obedience, we are a grief to our High Priest. Aaron’s sons treated the Lord’s commands lightly, offering “strange fire” of their own design in the Lord’s temple. This brought immediate death and grief to Aaron on a day that should have been filled with joy.
Obedience to our Savior is a first step toward unity. Without it, we cannot walk in peace with each other. Under the common yoke of obedience to Jesus, we can see what is beautiful in one another. We bear witness to how our brothers and sisters honor Jesus, our great High Priest. Shared submission unites our hearts, and our love for one another flows like oil down our Savior’s beard. What a mystery – that we can bless the One who shed His blood for us! And when we do, we enter the Father’s blessing – eternal life together!
At the Cross
Today is Good Friday, the day we as a Church, as a Bride betrothed, set our eyes upon the cross. When I was young, I found the image of Christ crucified too painful, too frightening to contemplate. Now that I am older, I understand the crucifixion as the holy pivot of history, a sacred event which every person must “attend” in a mystical sense. Both angels and men must respond.
I am thankful for the artists who help us through their paintings to enter Christ’s Passion. I am always moved by images of Mary and the other women standing unflinching below the cross. In that moment they push aside their own grief and fear to look up at Jesus in love. They cannot change the course of that day, but they remain in His view and their faith is a balm poured over the insults hurled by His mockers.
As much as I love that image, it is not how I see myself. I am a beggar, grasping the wood of the cross. I know that Jesus is hanging there for me, because He wants to be with me. But unless I am washed in His blood that cannot happen. I am not like Him. I have spoken words inspired by the Accuser. I sinned in what I have done and what I have failed to do. I have sown seeds of death which I cannot uproot. My sorrow cannot heal the wounds I have inflicted on others and on myself. My remorse cannot make right the harm I have. But the blood of Jesus has power beyond all I can ask or imagine, so I stand there undone and receive His flow.
As I imagine Jesus’ blood washing over my sins, I hear Jesus asking me an unexpected question. Will I let His blood heal the wounds I have suffered? He reminds me that His sacrifice is the Father’s judgment on those who have sinned against me. The Father cares and has rendered sentence - the death of His Son. Is His death enough for me? Or does my heart cling to thoughts of human retribution which cannot restore what is lost? Will I receive the healing I pray for those I have hurt?
How does one respond to such love? The words of Psalm 116 are the only way I know. “What return shall I make to the Lord for all the good He has done for me? I shall take the cup of salvation. I shall call upon the name of the Lord.”
I have no heroism to offer. And no righteousness of my own. All I can give Him is my desire to be with Him, as He desires me. And so I drink His cup.
Unless
Detail from a painting by Ford Madox Brown, circa 1852
Lent is quickly approaching its climax. On Sunday the Church will enter Holy Week - seven days devoted to contemplation of our Lord’s Passion.
Contemplation is the exploration of scripture or other divine mysteries under the direction of the Holy Spirit. That we are allowed to engage in such a holy occupation is an honor beyond grasping. That God in fact desires us to know Him speaks of His unfathomable humility. God delights to reveal Himself to the humble of heart, and He counts our thoughts toward Him as acts of friendship.
The goal of contemplation is never conclusion. It is not a doctrinal exercise. Rather, it is a journey of love, and one of its mysteries is this: when we turn our focus to God’s nature and His story, He often speaks to us about ourselves and our stories. The Father never tires of contemplating His children. This is why He takes such joy in our contemplation of His Only Begotten.
Today I am thinking about Jesus washing Peter’s feet. I hear Peter’s objection, ”Never shall You wash my feet!” and imagine myself saying the same. Peter meant the protest as a declaration of honor, as would I. He understood that merely being in Jesus’s presence was a sign of divine favor. Peter had seen his Master work miracles. He done miracles himself because of this man! And apart those wonders, Peter simply loved Jesus. He was willing, in his imagination, to lay his life down for the Messiah. Thus Peter objected when his Lord assumed a humiliating position before him. But there was more to his protest, I think. Was Peter not embarrassed to expose his dirty feet to Jesus?
Jesus responded, “Unless I wash your feet, you have no part of me.”
The truth is that Jesus would soon take a far more humiliating position before His disciples. Just a few hours after this dinner, Jesus would be stripped naked and hung in public as a target for mockers.
For most of my life, being afraid of pain and death, I have thought of the cross primarily in those terms. Jesus came to save us from eternal death through his temporal death. He came to bear the penalty of our sin through the tearing of His flesh. But I am coming to see there is still more which transpired on the cross. Jesus was humiliated under the weight of our sins. He came to heal this sting of shame while delivering us from death. I am in awe of such love!
Today I see Jesus kneeling before me as He once knelt before Peter, but in a position even lower and more humble. He comes bearing the wounds of the cross as He once came to Peter with the towel. He wants to cleanse my sin and heal my shame with His blood. It was for this reason He died. But to allow Him to do so means I must expose the thoughts, the acts and the memories which need washing. I must allow Jesus see the filth far more fetid than stinky feet. I must “do whatever He tells me” in order to be healed. This might include sacramental confession, acts of reconciliation, or focused times of sitting in His presence and listening to His voice. This is how I let Jesus wash me.
Such intimacy goes beyond social discomfort. It is a complete surrender to the humility of Christ. It is an acceptance of God’s judgment, His mercy and His love. Allowing Jesus’s story to touch my own is both wonderful and frightful. But unless I accept His humility, I have no part of Him. His sacrifice will not bear fruit in me. So I say with Peter, “Lord, wash all of me!”
My Favorite New Songs
While Pat’s song is surely glorious, I cannot discern its words. For the time being, my eyes and ears are mostly earthbound. The songs I learn now draw me into the great eternal song. I am always learning new melodies and rhythms from brothers and sisters. My favorite new songs of the year belong to two very young singers. Perhaps I am biased as the artists are my grandchildren, but I have no doubt that our Father in heaven finds them even more delightful than I.
The first song is a masculine call to arms. It is martial exercise waged against imagined evil villains. A series of poses, thrusts and parries. It is a song of courage, bravery, and defense of the innocent. This is way boys grow into their role of protector, and it brings joy to the King of the Universe.
If video doesn’t play or can’t be seen, click here - you want to watch it!
The second song is decidedly feminine. It is a graceful twirl of color and curtseys. My granddaughter is unusually in tune with the beauty of life, and her joyful movement unveils that beauty for those with eyes to see. She is practicing for the day of her dance before her Father the King, in full array of glory. Her joy makes that day real to me.
Click here to watch video if it’s not playing!
I am greatly blessed to have such wonderful singers in my life! Happy Birthday, Granddaughter!
Pat's New Song
Pat Bailey at CTR in 2015. On the table is her autobiography, But This I Know. I still have a few copies to share, and I highly recommend it!
Among my personal friends, the most glorious song of 2021 belongs to Pat Bailey. I am confident this is true though I have not yet heard the song. It is true because Pat is singing before the Father’s throne, singing with her Savior and a choir of angels. Pat died of COVID-19 in January. Those of us who love her (and there are many) will miss her, but I could only rejoice when I heard the news – rejoice with my elder sister for the wonder, the consolation, the rapture she knows now that her faith has become sight, sound and touch.
Our Father must hold a special place in His heart for His daughters who learned to sing their songs on earth. Pat was such a woman. Her song was a victory song – victory in Jesus over depression, prescription drug abuse, loneliness. Victory over jealousy and bitterness. Victory over broken relationships.
Pat was a warrior and an old-school preacher. She had a song she never tired of singing to younger generations. “Ladies,” she would exhort us, “you have to fight the devil! Resist the devil and he will flee!” Then she would call a whole room full of women to their feet so they could practice “stomping on the devil.” Pat taught us that resisting the devil was a matter “taking captive every thought to the obedience of Christ.” She understood that capturing thoughts is not an abstract or passive form of warfare. It sometimes requires physical action like singing, shouting, dancing, even stomping. Resisting the Accuser requires the engagement of one’s whole being – spirit, mind and body. This is a lesson I have passed on to my daughter. Most nights before we go to bed, we spend some time “stomping on the devil.” I am grateful to Pat for teaching me this practice.
I came to know Pat while serving alongside her as a spiritual director for Tres Dias. We were kindred spirits with different personalities. We loved to sing together, harmonizing with one another. After she led her military march, I would respond with themes of Christ’s peace. When I sang a call to repentance and she would chime in with stories of the Father’s healing mercy. We made a fine duo.
The last time I spoke to Pat was in August of 2020. I called to speak with her about a pastoral letter she had written in which she recounted a dream. In the dream, Pat saw a large crowd of zombie-like people wandering in the street. They were aimless, despairing, and potentially violent. Pat felt a gloom and hopelessness envelop her until she remembered to resist the devil. In the dream she suddenly knew what to do. She started singing an old hymn at the top of her lungs
“There is power, power, wonder working power
In the blood of the Lamb.
There is power, power, wonder working power
In the precious blood of the Lamb.”
Pat felt this dream was a call to the Church in these dark days to proclaim the power of Christ’s blood over every evil we encounter. I believe she is singing this song still in music too sublime for human ears.
Here is a more homey version of the song which I think Pat would enjoy. These are her people from her home state.
A Song for Ash Wednesday
Our game room lit by candles.
What a penitential start to Lent! This Ash Wednesday I will abstain from bathing. I skipped that luxurious ritual on Monday and Tuesday as well. It remains uncertain when the next warm shower might come.
Texas is enduring a winter storm of historic proportions. Temperatures have dipped into the single digits here in Elgin. It was -9 degrees Fahrenheit in the Panhandle where my brothers live. For almost a week now temperatures have remained below freezing. The combination of extreme cold and enduring cold has broken the infrastructure of our state. Like millions of fellow Texans, we have no running water. Thankfully, our power is not completely out. Rolling blackouts turn the power on and off in 20 min intervals. It is enough to cook an egg. Enough to keep us from freezing. The bedrooms, in fact, are comfortable if you wear several layers of clothing. Many of our neighbors are much worse off.
Yesterday I received an email from the principal of Clara’s school. It is not often that a school weather notices bring me to tears, but the message was more than notice of closure. It was a song belted out in the cold by a woman who has found her voice. Here is what she wrote…
Tue, Feb 16, 12:52 PM (23 hours ago)
Dear St, Mary's Family,
I pray you are all well and surviving this new and unexpected challenge (we have been having a lot of these lately)! In light of the numerous power and water outages, as well as internet and cell interruptions, we will cancel all classes for Wednesday and Thursday, and plan to attempt Distance Learning - asynchronously with no live classes - on Friday. If we need to cancel Friday I will notify you all on Thursday.
In the meantime, please let me or your teachers know if you need anything! We have always taken care of one another, and this is no different - we live among you and we are your family. We can assist one another in securing basic needs, and at minimum you can all be assured of our prayers!
If you are able to do so, please also be Christ to your neighbors - think about going door to door to check on them, or at least attempt to call them. Many people are struggling to survive this prolonged weather event, and perhaps you could be the difference in their lives at this time of difficulty.
I love you and pray continuously for your safety and well being, and I can't wait to see you all again soon. Until then, stay as warm as possible, try to enjoy this extraordinary snow, and enjoy time with your families at home. God is often most powerful in our lives at the times of greatest stillness. The hum of the world has stopped for a few days - perhaps He has something to say to us.
Love and blessings to you all!
Yours in Christ,
Heidi
The message touched me on two levels. Firstly, I know that Mrs. Altman does truly care for each family in the school. Every morning, rain or shine, she greets arriving children with a smile and kind word. She remembers important events in the lives of her students. She is always ready with a cup of cold water in Jesus’ name.
Secondly, I was moved by her reminder to press into the quiet. To listen for the voice of God who will be found by those who seek Him. It is the same call that Joel made to the people of Israel, the same song the Church sings today..
‘Now, now – it is the Lord who speaks –
come back to me with all your heart,
fasting, weeping, mourning.’
Let your hearts be broken, not your garments torn,
turn to the Lord your God again,
for he is all tenderness and compassion,
slow to anger, rich in graciousness,
and ready to relent.
Who knows if he will not turn again, will not relent,
will not leave a blessing as he passes.
Our family has already received blessings in the wake of the storm. I have enjoyed the time with my children. We are all sleeping in one bedroom for warmth, and it feels like a slumber party. In the quiet I have had time to listen to some new songs as well. Like the song of our neighbor Scott from Minnesota who brought a hay bale to keep our water meter from freezing. And the song of his wife Leslie who has taken in friends without any power. And the songs of our Bruderhof guests who know the deep melodies of communal life. Rick and Nancy came from New York planning to stay in their RV and escape winter weather. Instead, they are helping us survive the storm. When there is nothing else to do, we play board games together by candlelight.
These are all blessings in the trial. They don’t make the ordeal less dangerous. We continue to pray and ask for your prayers. Every Texan will be greatly relieved when this is over. But hopefully we will also be changed.
Just for fun – Here is a blues song my son wrote this morning.
John with an icicle made by our dripping pipes…before the water went out.
Thinking About the Song...
Rembrandt’s Presentation of Christ in the Temple
Thinking of the Great Song, yesterday my Church celebrated a pivotal, glorious moment in God’s story. Yesterday was the Feast of the Presentation - the day Mary and Joseph took Baby Jesus to the temple for His circumcision, and to offer the gifts of redemption required by the Law.
Father, You had long anticipated that day! You arranged for two of Your closest friends, Anna and Simeon, to be there to bless Your Son, the consolation of Israel. You had spoken to them both privately, alerting them to the news. And You gave Simeon a song to sing that day – one of the great canticles of history!
There were other voices in the heavenly choir that day – voices which foretold the mystery of that visit centuries before. Singers who introduced themes to be taken up by other voices, fleshed out and fulfilled. I am thinking particularly of Haggai who lived 500 years before Jesus was born. Here is the song he sang-
“Speak now to Zerubbabel the son of Shealtiel, governor of Judah, and to Joshua the son of Jehozadak, the high priest, and to the remnant of the people, saying, ‘Who is left among you who saw this temple in its former glory? And how do you see it now? Does it not seem to you like nothing in comparison? But now take courage, Zerubbabel,’ declares the Lord, ‘take courage also, Joshua son of Jehozadak, the high priest, and all you people of the land take courage,’ declares the Lord, ‘and work; for I am with you,’ declares the Lord of armies. ‘As for the promise which I made you when you came out of Egypt, My Spirit remains in your midst; do not fear!’ ……. ‘The latter glory of this house will be greater than the former,’ says the Lord of armies, ‘and in this place I will give peace,’ declares the Lord of armies.”
Haggai was writing to the remnant of Judah which had returned to Jerusalem from captivity in Babylon. They had been sent with the blessing of Cyrus to rebuild the Temple. But when they arrived in their promised land, they were dismayed to find the Temple in utter ruin. How could they in their poverty possibly restore a place of worship fitting for the Almighty God?
Apparently, there were some elders among them who, as children, had seen the first Temple built by King Solomon. Haggai speaks to their despair saying, “the latter glory of this house will be greater than the former.” That promise must have sounded not just preposterous, but nigh unto blasphemous.
The glory of the former Temple was never its gold and silver - it was Your presence, YHWH! Your eyes were fixed upon the ark of the covenant which was the sign of Your oath to Israel. Your holiness rested above its mercy seat. Lord, Your reality was so heavy around the ark that only the high priest could enter that space, and he only once a year when the ark was concealed in incense.
The ark was a treasure that could not be replaced with all the gold in the world. It was utterly unique, given by the One True God to one people among all the tribes on earth. And they had lost it. The ark was taken when the Temple was razed and no one knew what became of it. The loss was the tragic, devastating consequence of Israel’s stubborn idolatry. But Father, You never abandoned them. As Haggai wrote, Your Spirit remained with Your people even in their captivity.
When Zerubbabel built the second Temple, the architects included a veil which enclosed the former site of the Holy of Holies . However, in the second Temple, this space was empty. No yearly sacrifices were made there because there was no ark. There was no manifest presence of God in that place…..
Until the day Jesus came in, carried in his mother’s arm. Then Your glory filled the Templle in a way more wondrous than ever. You were closer to Your people than You had ever been! Jesus’ blood was spilled that day in circumcision – the blood of the Eternal High Priest. The Lord had returned to His Temple. A new movement in the Song had begun.
On that day, the glory of YHWH entered the Temple again, but more fully than ever! Jesus’ arrival was quiet, even secret, but You knew, Father, that His presence was shaking both the heavens and the earth. It was a day more wondrous than the dedication of Solomon’s Temple when Your glory filled the building such that no priest could enter.
Throughout His childhood Jesus often returned to the Temple. When He was twelve years old, he began teaching the scribes and priests there, talking with them as friends, like You once spoke with Moses, but in a in a voice like theirs, which they could hear without terror. Jesus was jealous for the place You chose to establish Your Name. He cleansed it with a whip. And when He was crucified, the veil which separated the Holy of Holies was torn in two, like His own flesh. The body and blood of Your Son became our everlasting peace with the You. It happened just as Haggai had sung, but not as anyone expected.
Oh, Triune God – how I love Your Song!
John's New song
John Boyle teaching my two younger sons to sing!
The Father Himself gives each heart a song to sing. Every one of His children has a unique voice – a melody no one else can carry. Yet none of us sings alone. We are part of a great, eternal chorus which simultaneously extols God’s story and brings it to pass. And while each song is unique, we learn to sing from others in the choir.
Some of us are called to study the history of the song. Others serve as voice coaches. My friend John Boyle does both while belting out his own melody.
I have known John for almost two decades now. I will never forget out first meeting. Thomas and I were excited because we had just filed papers to register the Austin House of Prayer as a legal non-profit organization. It felt like a big step to us and we were excited. When we told John, he replied, “The Lord told me he has enough non-profits. He is looking for prophets.”
I was impressed with his boldness and intrigued. There was a latent invitation in his warning. God is looking for prophets. For friends. Don’t be satisfied leading an organization when the Lord has a song for you to sing!
John has been a faithful friend to many, helping call forth our voices. He is also a student of the Great Song itself, listening for patterns and precedents which repeat themselves in new words and sounds, generation after generation. He has taught me that some individuals never sing their songs, and this is cause for lament. Some are too timid to raise their voices. Some are too distracted by the world to sing. Some never find their voice for they are mimicking others. Some simply refuse to enter the Song. Their hearts are hard toward both God and fellow men.
Likewise, there have been great singers throughout history whom God gives us as teachers. Every composer learns to love music by hearing someone else’s song. This is the great honor God gives His friends – to sing His praise with such beauty that others are drawn into the Song, into His story of Redemption, Love and Glory.
Below is a song my friend John wrote early this month. It is a song both old and new - a fresh rendition of a song the prophet Jeremiah wrote centuries ago. John’s writing is a puzzle for our generation, as Jeremiah’s preaching was for his. Puzzles are meant to be pondered, so I will not attempt an explanation of John’s unique style. But here is a clue – there are two Hebrew words in the song which play off one another. The Hebrew words for “almond” and “watching” sound very similar.
Jeremiah 1:11-19! And the word of the LORD! came to me, saying:!
c) "What do you see, Jeremiah?
1) And I said, "An almond-tree shoqed! wando I C?!" c)
2) & the LORDE!X! said to me, " You have seen W?eLL! c)
3) ThEpiphanY?Z! 4? IAM! vigilant! shaqed! with My word! 2 do? IT! c)
4) And the word of the LORD! 2 me? A.S?econd time!saying! c)
5) "What do you see?" c)
6) And I said, " A.S?ee?thing! pot! I see, 2 turnorussIA!" c)
7) And the LORD! said to me, " From the north shaLL come? thevil! b?roached!weLLERs! c)
8) 4 IAM! abouto caLL! c)
9) 4th! the clanorth! c)
10) they shaLL come sethrone! AT?hentrance! GA?tE.S! c)
11) Jerusalem! waLls!peak O?UT! Judgements againsthem! c)
12) 4 they 4sook! Me! burned IN?cense! tother gods! c)
13) BOWE?D?OWN! 2 work of their hands! c)
14) gird your loinspeak! aLL that I charge you! c)
15) Do not b?roken-spirited! c)
16) b4 them! made you 4tress! c)
17) Iron?Y! piLL?AR? bronZe! c)
18) againsthe/lords/Kings! c)
19) nobles/priests/we, the people! c)
20) they shaLL baT?T?le you! but N.O.t preVail! 4 IAM withee! c)
21)said the LORD! 2 save you! c)
This week John Boyle turned one year older. Happy Birthday, John! Thank you for helping me learn to sing!
Nowlin's New Song
My brother Nowlin singing Clara and himself to sleep.
I have an amazing brother. He lives as a hermit of sorts . St. Nowlie of the Plains I call him affectionately. Daily he battles the darkness of by singing hymns of praise. Songs both old and new he draws out of the storehouse of his heart. I am convinced that hidden warriors such as he do more to combat the oppression of this age than we will ever know.
Singers like Nowlin are heralds of faith. They seers of a coming kingdom. They are holy fools who confound the wisdom of the world by blessing the Father’s heart. They live in His joy. They hope in His goodness. They dance through cold and hunger, as if they were already feasting at Lord’s banquet.
Most mornings I awake to a text from my brother - a song to start the day. Sometimes he sends a recording, especially if the song is new. More often he sends the lyrics, assuming I know the tune.
Last year he wrote a new song especially for me. The text is taken from John 15 which I was contemplating at the time. “You have not chosen me, but I have chosen you,” says Jesus in the passage. Surely Our Lord has chosen Nowlin to bear the fruit of song!
🎶🎶
If you keep my commandments
You'll abide in my love
If you do as I command
You will be my friends
For I have chosen you
You have not chosen me
That you may be fruit bearing trees.
If you keep my commandments you'll abide in my love
If you do as I command you will be my friends.
These things I have spoken that my joy be in you
these things I have spoken that your joy may be full.
For I have chosen you
You have not chosen me
That you may be fruit bearing trees.
These things I have spoken that my joy be in you
these things I have spoken that your joy may be full.
This I command you
that you love one another
As I have loved you
Greater love hath no man
Than he lay down his life
For his friends.
For I have chosen you
you have not chosen me
That you may be fruit bearing trees.
If you keep my commandments,
You'll abide in my love.
If you do as I command,
You will be my friends.
🎶🎶
Gaby's New Song
My friend Gaby S. who lives in Vienna
Several people have responded to my call for new songs. I’ve been blessed to hear many new songs, each sung in a unique voice. I plan to publish some of them here, beginning with Gaby. Here is what she wrote -
My song this year is a song of His Lordship. Because of our never-ending lockdowns here in Austria I had for Christmas a relatively long time in which I was free of teaching. I happened, truly „happened“, to read two testimonials; one a staff member of VOM, one working with Open Doors. Both had long and difficult stories of persecution they had to go through personally and even more the people they worked for.
But most of all: These were stories of God’s incredible power, of His sovereign control of every little detail. Let’s be clear about it: They were not often stories of instant relieve. They were stories of His Kingship within the hardship. As Amy put it so well a blog before: „His plan falls upon us“... in fact it can crash upon us. It is bigger than just our current wellbeing. It includes His chance for all mankind, even the wicked; sometimes on the cost of His disciples.
So once more what I read corrected my picture I had made up of Him. He is not the God you’ll put a coin in and get out the results you wish, He is the Ruler of the Universe Who steadily follows His plans. But His plans come out of a love we cannot fathom. And in the middle of it all, His provision is ever sufficient. Not what we’ve longed for maybe, but reliably sufficient and reliably in time. Last second, can be, but in time. And when it comes, His supply might move heaven and earth, it is wonder – full.
So I long to sing a song of praise to the God we have. I see that a year of a pandemic is not really a „problem“. I see I can absolutely trust Him; He is not deaf, He is not uninvolved, He is by no means out of control. He is full of love, He is mighty and He is King. Our King.
Sing a New Song to the Lord
Sing to the LORD a new song; sing to the LORD all the earth. - Psalm 96:1
Image used by permission of Pikist
“Sing a new song to the Lord!” I’ve heard that refrain at every turn for the past two weeks. It showed up in my morning prayers. In the antiphons at Mass. In the CTR prayer book. In the worship songs my sons chose to lead. Finally it began to dawn on me, the Lord was speaking.
“What is my song?” I wondered. “How do I sing to God? What new thing is the Spirit bringing forth in me?”
The question reminded me of a vision I had in March of 2019. I was in Austria at the time, worshiping with a small group of Fr. Peter’s friends at his former home. While the group was singing, I suddenly saw, with the eyes of my heart, the Father’s hand. It was open, and in His palm there I was, dressed in blue, dancing. It was a beautiful dance, and the Father watched with joy and fascination. This is what touched me most – His interest in the dance. It was the Holy Spirit within me inspiring the moves, giving me both grace and strength to execute them. This I knew at once. And yet, the dance was entirely free and new. It was a unique collaboration between the Spirit and me, His creature. This is why the Father watched with such sincere delight. I was singing a new song!
Though it has been almost two years since I saw that image, its beauty and its truth stirs me ever deeper. The arthritis which runs in my family has since settled into my bones. I cannot leap, or twirl, or even raise my hands in praise without considerable pain. But this new limitation does not keep me from dancing. What moved me in the Father’s hand, I knew immediately, was my contemplation of the Trinity, my meditation of His Story. Writing is the way I dance. It is the new song which brings my Father joy.
Last year I sang a song about Abraham. That was a meditation which produced a book that is yet to be published. This year I will sing about my two fathers – the one on earth and the One in heaven. I know the theme of this song. It is a story of healing and reconciliation. But the dance itself is intricate. There are many moves and leaps that I cannot yet see. I will need the Holy Spirit to enlighten and lead me.
I am thankful for the many new songs I heard from my brothers and sisters last year – for the chorus of praise “like many waters” which rose to our Father’s throne. Each voice unique. Each melody adding depth to the great anthem of heaven’s praise.
I think of my daughter’s joy as she learned to flip on the trampoline.
And my friend’s new job caring for the least of God’s children.
I remember the family in our community who welcomed two girls into their home this year.
I recall porch visits and Zoom calls with dear friends, both near and far. Holy friendship is a song unto the Lord.
I cherish the sermons I have read and the teachings I have heard.
Our family celebrated the engagement of our third child this year. He will be married in just a few days to begin a new song with his wife.
I held my newborn granddaughter just days ago. She is an entirely new song begun in 2020.
For the song writers in this community
May you sing a new song unto the Lord
For our preachers and teachers
May you sing a new song unto the Lord
For our intercessors
May you sing a new song unto the Lord
For those with hidden gifts of service
May you sing a new song unto the Lord
For the painters and sculptors
May you sing a new song unto the Lord
For the dancers and dramatists
May you sing a new song unto the Lord
For the mothers and fathers
May you sing a new song unto the Lord
For the children in our midst
May you sing a new song unto the Lord
I want to end this meditation with an unusual invitation. I would love to hear what song the Lord gave you to sing in 2020. We build one another up, and thus bless Christ our Head, when we speak of the ways His Spirit has blessed us. Please tell us about your song in the comment section.
God's Timing
James Tissot, by permission of the Brooklyn Museum
Waiting is hard for us humans. But then again, so are surprises. Sometimes Your plan falls upon us suddenly, without warning, leaving us breathless, shaken, astounded. That is how You called Moses from the burning bush. And how You came to Mary. They were both yearning for Israel’s deliverance. They were longing to see Your salvation. But they never suspected You were waiting for them.
Once You spoke, then the waiting began. Moses pressed through the plagues and Pharaoh’s hardness. He endured the doubts of his own people before He saw Your deliverance.
Mary waited for Joseph’s answer. For the pregnancy. For Her Son to be revealed.
I wonder what she thought of Your timing concerning her labor, Lord? How did she perceive the demand for a census near the end of her gestation? Did she see it as the conniving of the Enemy, drawing her from home just when she needed the help of her family? Did she assume You would delay her labor until she could return? Or did she have some inkling that her Son would be born in the City of David?
I have always imagined that Mary’s labor came rather unexpectedly. I picture Joseph almost frantic to find a place for Mary to rest – hoping to calm her body and avoid delivery in a strange town without the comfort of home. But that was not Your plan.
You were happy to lay Your Son, Your Very Own Heart, in a trough where animals fed He for was to become the Bread of Life You were pleased to reveal Him to shepherds, for He was the Good Shepherd who would lead us home to You. You insisted that He be born in Bethlehem, for He was the eternal heir of David’s throne. You needed Him near Jerusalem for presentation for that was the law. And moreover, You were eager to show Him to Your long-suffering prophets, Anna and Simeon.
Still there was another reason Your Son was born in Bethlehem. That is where the magi sought him after consulting the scribes in Jerusalem. I find this story from Matthew profoundly moving. Wealthy men, rulers, students of God Most High, undertake a risky journey to find the King of Israel. Israel was more of a memory than a nation at the time. She had citizens, but no king. Herod was a puppet ruler under Rome. When they arrive in Jerusalem, they announce the good news which Israel’s teachers had failed to notice – Israel’s Messiah has been born for the blessing of the whole world! These foreigners preach the gospel in Your Holy City. And when they find the baby boy in His humble surroundings, they prostrate themselves in worship - without doubt, without pride, without hesitation.
The magi’s visit served Your plan in ways both practical and prophetic. These pilgrims left gifts which would fund another unexpected journey for the Holy Family - their flight to Egypt. Once again Your timing fell upon simple people without warning or waiting. Joseph was awakened by an angel in the middle of the night. “Flee, now,” the angel said. Mary and Joseph obeyed quickly, unlike Lot of old, and slipped away quietly before the wrath of Herod fell.
Your timing, Lord, is perfect, but it is rarely easy. Those You count as friends You entrust with suffering. You allow them to share the cost of Your plan. You invite them to participate in the sacrifice of Your Love. And You reward them with everlasting glory!
I am writing today from Waco, holding my beautiful granddaughter in my left arm. She was born on Dec. 21 after a long and grueling labor. My daughter would have preferred her birth to come at least a week earlier. She would have preferred a shorter labor. But as it happened, her daughter was born on the morning of the Christmas star of 2020 – a rare alignment of Jupiter and Saturn. The date was a sweet confirmation of the name they had chosen months before - Celestine, meaning “celestial” or “heavenly.” I do not presume, Father, that the date holds more than this personal meaning. Your ways are not our ways; but of this I am confident -
“Our times are in Your hand,” Psalm 31:15
“Your works are perfect and all Your ways are just.” Deut. 32:4
Waiting for the Blessed Hope
My daughter is expecting her first baby any day now. Any hour really. The wait is awful. She feels antsy, unable to focus on anything except the impending birth. In her less rational moments, she wonders if labor will elude her entirely. Perhaps her body simply won’t do what it is made to do. Perhaps the baby will never come out. When I was in her state, dark clouds of doubt descended upon me as well. I found myself thinking crazy thoughts – wondering if I had imagined the whole pregnancy. Perhaps I had just gained lots of weight and made up a story to my own liking. Perhaps I had fooled everyone, including myself, and would soon be found out. I tried to reason with myself, reminding myself that I had not yet reached my due date. There was no need for despair. But when desire runs strong and hormones run high, reason struggles to reign in the course of one’s thoughts.
I prayed for my daughter this morning, asking for labor to come quickly. I prayed out of sympathy, and out of eagerness. Though I know God’s ways are better than mine, and His timing is always right, I pled my case anyway. “Do You know how hard it is for humans to wait?” I asked.
“That is why I became a man,” I heard Jesus respond in my heart. “So that I would understand you fully.”
“Yes, Lord,” I acknowledged. “I know You were a man, and You also had to wait. But You live in eternity now. It is hard for me to imagine how You remember. And You were never a woman! Do you know how hard it is to wait for a baby?”
“I am united with my Bride. I know Her completely,” He replied
“I believe that, Lord, but I don’t understand the mystery of our union. I know it is real and present, but not what it will be when You return. We must be more present to You than You seem to us. In this life we don’t feel all that You feel or think all that You think, even though we have the gift of Your Spirit. Our thoughts are usually focused on ourselves. I believe we could be far more united to You if we embraced Your Spirit more fully.”
I began to realize that waiting for Christ’s return is hard, just like waiting for a baby. It is easy to despair and to doubt. Many have given up hope, though His promise is certain. Doubting the Promise is madness. Acting as if He will never return is faithless folly. Those who do will be caught as foolish virgins, without oil on the day of the Bridegroom’s return. I know the Promise is true because I feel the Spirit within me moving and groaning, kicking like an infant int he womb. But it is hard to live in perpetual desire for a union which one has never known!
Then I felt my thoughts interrupted by our Savior’s humble, dizzying voice.
“My longing to return is greater than Yours, Amy, because My Heart is bigger than yours. You know, My love, I also wait.”
Spotless
Painting by James Jacques Joseph Tissot, used by permission of the Brooklyn Museum
Advent is a season set aside for contemplation - for pondering the mysteries of God’s story in our hearts. Accounts of Christ’s birth and prophecies of His coming are the special focus of this season. But the Spirit blows where it will. All gospel stories are stories of the Incarnation, and previews of the Kingdom to come. This is the story I have been pondering…..
There once was a woman with an issue of blood – a condition which made her unclean according to the law. Not only did she suffer physically, she was isolated in her pain. This woman spent all her money seeking a cure, but no doctor could bring her relief. After twelve years of suffering, she held little hope of healing. Then Jesus came to her village. I do not know how she heard the news, but the Father made sure she did. And when she heard that Jesus was near, she knew in the depth of her soul that she could be healed.
The woman did not plan to speak to Jesus. She could not bear the thought of exposing her illness in public. If it had been possible to see Him privately, perhaps she could have found courage. But that was not an option. So she pressed into the crowd, jostled to and fro by the crush of bodies, making everyone she touched unclean. She was not a careless person, I think. She did not treat the law lightly. But she was desperate.
She pressed harder and harder until the Teacher was in reach. She bent low to the ground and let her fingers graze the hem of His garment. Immediately, power surged through her body and she was healed.
Jesus felt the power as well. He stopped, looked around, and asked, “Who touched me?” Peter and the disciples were baffled by the question. The whole village was pressed around Him. Countless people had touched Him, the way one would touch a celebrity. But someone had touched Him in a different manner. Someone had reached out in faith, and that faith had united a human with divine power.
The woman’s faith had indeed made her well! Jesus was not using poetic language. There was no willful choice in the matter for Jesus. It was God’s design – a spiritual law as certain as gravity – that when a human soul trusts in the mercy of the Son, it receives the love of the Father. This was, in fact, the reason the Father sent His Son – to draw men into Their eternal love. The woman’s faith had joined her to Jesus, thus His power flowed into her being and she was healed – not just from her disease, I believe, but from the shame and the sin which had plagued her.
When Jesus stopped and looked for the one who had tuoched, of course she was afraid. What she had done by touching a rabbi in her state was beyond bold! But the healing she received in her body was already at work in her soul. She knew she had been seen - noticed by the Almighty.
O Lord, what I love most about Your touch in my body is knowing that You see me, that Your eye is upon me! I believe this is what my Jewish sister felt on that day. The awe of grace! The wonder of being seen by God! Jesus was glad that power had gone out of Him because it meant someone there believed! Someone had recognized the gift which He carried within His Person. Your Spirit summoned her to speak the truth.
She was the one. She dared to touch Him because she wanted to be well and the moment her fingers reached His robe, she was healed. The healing was instantaneous and complete. So immediate that she had never touched Jesus in uncleanness!
It was impossible for the woman’s uncleanness to touch the one through whom Life was given! It was impossible for her to taint Christ’s holiness. Rather, His holiness flowed into her. She had touched Jesus in a state of faith, and in the state of faith, she was completely united with Him.
The truth is that everyone surrounding Jesus that day was unclean – unclean from sin. No one in the crowd was worthy of touching Jesus. But few understood, perhaps not even the disciples, that Jesus had the same authority over sin that He held over illness. I believe this is why there are so many stories of demonic deliverance in the scripture – to help us see the invisible reality that Jesus is Lord over the darkness in our heart. If we reach out to touch Him in faith, He will drive out the sin which plagues us. It is a spiritual principle written before time began – those who trust in the Son see the Father in glory!
I am grateful for this woman who suffered for twelve years in Palestine long ago! I am thankful for her faith in much the same way I am thankful for Mary’s faith. Both stories help me understand the “incomparably great power towards those who believe.” Mary in a unique way believed the word of God and was united with Him. Through her belief our Savior entered the world.
The woman with an issue of blood is more like me. She bore a shame which isolated her. Like that woman, I bear a history which I cannot change. But through her witness, I know that my history will give glory to God if I reach out to Jesus in faith. His power will flow into me, healing my soul so completely that it truly becomes spotless. This spotless glory is hope I could not imagine for years, though it is clearly written in scripture. I thought, perhaps, Jesus merely decreed us spotless in His mercy though facts bore witness otherwise. But Jesus cannot lie! We will truly be spotless because we will be filled with His holiness.
We are indeed saved by faith, but not the kind of faith I imagined as a child. Faith is not a mere assent to certain doctrines. That kind of faith has no transformative power at all! True faith is living and active. It is a call to our Creator which He cannot resist. God’s power will always flow into the heart which trusts in Him. Faith makes us brave, like our sister of old, bold to speak of our Savior. And best of all, faith causes the loving eyes of our Lord to gaze on the one who touched Him!
In Praise of Christ the King
I feel its pull, heavier each day
Gravity calling me down,
Back to the dust from which I was made.
I cannot resist its claim on me
No exercise, no diet will reverse the inevitable.
I am dying.
Not immediately.
Nor even soon by human reckoning.
But in Your eternal eyes, my death is as good as done
And that is a mercy.
The King has decreed an end to sin
To its sorrow, damage and decay.
An end to the sickness in our bones.
All flesh must enter a deep sleep like Adam’s.
Even You, My Lord, bearing the sin and sorrow of this world,
Entered the sleep of the curse.
You descended into Hell
And silenced our ancient Foe.
You, My King, have died,
So I do not fear to follow.
You are the New Adam
And I am flesh of Your flesh.
Soon you will call my body up from the ground,
As You Yourself arose.
I cannot resist Your call.
No slumber, no shame, no decay can stop the rising
Of those whom You summon.
Those born again in Your image will greet You in the sky
and reign with You forever.
Resurrection is as certain, as inevitable as death
For You, My King, have decreed it.
The Unjust Steward
Woodcut of the Unjust Steward, Hans Schaufelein, 1514
Sometimes Jesus is hard to understand, even to His friends. Those well acquainted with His ways may still find His words jarring at times. They don’t fit our image of His message or mission. They leave us scratching our heads.
The parable of the unjust steward is one of Jesus’ teachings which has always troubled me. Why did our Lord choose such a lousy character to praise? After all, stewards in other parables seem held to higher standards. The servant who fails to invest his master’s wealth is beaten and thrown into outer darkness – all for digging a hole! But this guy who actively squanders his master’s wealth is praised for his wisdom. And once the parable is finished, Jesus goes on and on about how important it is for children of the Kingdom to use money wisely, with this unjust steward as our example.
Why did Jesus choose a lout as a model? Why not give us a more noble, faithful example, I wondered? Then last night it hit me….. Jesus was not telling a parable about the kind of person we should strive to be. No, He was holding a mirror to our faces, showing us who we are and how to get out of the hole we have dug for ourselves.
The truth is we are all unfaithful stewards. We have all squandered our master’s wealth. For most of us, the waste was unintentional, at least most of the time. We were simply distracted. Or unbelieving. Or caught up in the values of another master - the god of mammon, ambition, worldly success. We have frittered away our precious time on earth. We have not invested God’s gifts as we should. And at times, we have simply sinned. We have acted in ways that displease our Lord and harm His household.
Each of us is facing judgment. We will all die as a consequence of sin, and we will have to give an account of our stewardship to our Lord. So how can we prepare for such an end? We can forgive other people’s debts, and we can do it with a passion!
Here is the mystery… when the unjust steward begins forgiving debts, that is when he becomes a faithful steward. Our Master’s business is forgiveness. That is why Jesus came – to free the captives and undo the yoke of slavery. When we forgive debts, we become His agents on earth, binding and loosening as Jesus told His disciples they would. We bring glory to God when we forgive those who offend us, for we represent His mercy rightfully. We make His name a blessing, as the unjust steward made his master a blessing by releasing people from their debts. And in the process, we store up mercy for ourselves as well. Jesus warns us sternly that the measure we use for others is the measure that shall be used for us in the final judgment. He teaches us to pray “forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.”
Forgiveness is one way to prepare an eternal home. Generosity is another. Jesus clearly says, “make friends for yourselves by means of unrighteous wealth, so that when it fails they may receive you into the eternal dwellings.” Once again, it strikes me as odd that other people seem to have a say in who gets an eternal dwelling in this parable. It rubs against the grain of my theology. But then again, Jesus says “inasmuch as You have done it (a work of mercy or generosity) unto the least of my brethren, you have done it unto Me.”
I am certain that I am missing many truths of this parable. There are aspects of its message I see dimly or perhaps simply misunderstand. However, this morning I see clearly that I am the unfaithful steward, and there is still hope for me!
Jesus – write Your words on my heart!
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Related links:
austinhouseofprayer.org | wittenberg2017.org | georgeandhannamiley.com |