Thursday, July 27, 2006

Tears and Truth

Revelation 7:13-17

13Then one of the elders asked me, "These in white robes—who are they, and where did they come from?" 14I answered, "Sir, you know." And he said, "These are they who have come out of the great tribulation; they have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. 15Therefore, "they are before the throne of God and serve him day and night in his temple; and he who sits on the throne will spread his tent over them. 16Never again will they hunger; never again will they thirst. The sun will not beat upon them, nor any scorching heat. 17For the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd; he will lead them to springs of living water. And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes."

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If you are filled with a sense of hopelessness, with tears as your daily bread, how do you read a passage like this one?

Do we take the word of God at its word? Or, is it another way to despair? I mean, waiting for God to wipe away every tear from your eyes, well, you’re waiting to die, aren’t you? And, in the mean time, what about this life? When your heart still stubbornly beats. And, the tears hardly stop. Will any of this ever really happen?

Do you just count on death as a release to this Paradise promised?

I read these words as a believer. A believer in a desolate, parched place, but a believer, nonetheless. Having known the Lord Jesus Christ all these years, I know I have found in Him a love that will not let me go. It hasn’t yet. I get the feeling in won’t. Why? Because this love has kept seeking me, even when I lost my way. It has kept calling my name, even when I turned my back. It has kept restoring my soul, even when it is resolutely downcast. It has been tender, even when I have been harsh. It has redeemed me from the pit, even when I had no hope of coming out.

When my faith falters, I compel myself to remember the steadfast love of the Lord, even when all around me says otherwise.

I think this is what the writer of Lamentations meant when He cries:
“13 He pierced my heart with arrows from his quiver. 17 I have been deprived of peace; I have forgotten what prosperity is. 18 So I say, "My splendor is gone and all that I had hoped from the LORD."19 I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall. 20 I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me. 21 Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: 22 Because of the LORD's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. 23 They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. 24 I say to myself, "The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for him." 25 The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; 26 it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD. 29 Let him bury his face in the dust—there may yet be hope.”

I say, “I compel myself,” but I don’t think that’s entirely true. I think it is His grace that gently pushes me in that direction. He demonstrates His love and grace in our darkest moments. He reminds us of His steadfast love. We need to see it, though, even if it is barely a sliver of a moon in a dark sky; to hear it, even if it is a whisper in deafening thunder, or howling wind. He does not force His way in. But, neither does He forsake us. We learn this, I think, especially in desolation and isolation. He is the shepherd, who leads us to springs of living water, even in the parched places.

It might be through words of Scripture; it might be through the words of someone you love and trust, or even a prophetic stranger; it might be through the words of a book or devotional you’re reading; it might be through the rising or setting sun; it might be through a hot wind or a cool breeze; it might be through silvery-blue waters against black, chiseled rock; it might be through flowers and trees; it might be through birds; it might be through a song, or a hymn; it might be through the full moon, or the early morning sun breaking through the clouds; it might be through an unexpected reason to smile and celebrate, if only briefly; it might be through simple pleasures of life more keenly appreciated; it might be through a garden that blooms in desert; it might be through good news of God’s work in a far away land; it might be through a sense of peace – however fleeting – that passes all understanding; it might be through the presence of loved ones; it might be through relationships restored; it might be at night when your disturbed soul is calmed, and your tears stilled, even though there is no human being there to wipe them.

In other words, look for God's shepherding in the apparently ordinary details of your daily life. God is there. God is present. God is active. God is redeeming and restoring. Look for a miracle. It happens. It's not always the parting of the Red Sea. It might well be a common, but life-saving technological marvel that would have strained Moses' belief. God is close to the broken hearted. Even in the darkest moments, when it seems that He is not. I have found that to be true. I have found Jesus to be true. If you don’t know that already, take a chance on Him.

He's worth it. To know Him is to love Him, as He first loves you with a love that will not let you go.

I read this passage from Revelation, and I see a God revealed fully in Jesus Christ His son: One who is worthy of worship, one who actively protects us, a shepherd who guides to refresh us, one who is intimate and tender with us. I see the irony in His ways that are not our ways – robes in need of washing are washed in blood; soiled robes are made white because they are washed in the blood of the Lamb (Jesus). I see there are things that will remain mystery, when I will have to say, with all humility, “Sir, you know.” In other words, I really haven’t a clue. I just don't know. I see that God’s vision is to bring people out of great tribulation and to fill them up and protect them, and…

…wipe away every tear Himself.

I love that image! Don’t you? I’m going to hold on to it.

This Biblical passage reveals that there is a “coming out of” great tribulation. It doesn’t say who these people are, or where they came from.

It could be you and me.

I certainly don’t have all the answers. These words of Scripture don't make it all clear or make "tribulation" history. But, they do offer hope, don't they? And, I have found in knowing God, that He does not deceive, He does not lead you to dead ends and sinking sands. I’m counting on the fact that what I have learned about Him all these years is true: that He is faithful. I believe it to be true. I’m not expecting to wake up to a tearless morn. Far from it. Yet, having experienced the love of God, I am compelled to believe His word. There is some stubborn, hopeful part of me that will not give up on Jesus Christ, whom I have decided to follow, and who has proved that He loves me with a love will not let me go. So, I will my feeble self to hope in Him and count on Him – in this life and the next.

Because, even in these dark days, I have experienced His grace, His love, His forgiveness and His strength. Like countless others now and through the ages, I have found this Holy, Almighty God, fully revealed in His son Jesus Christ, my Lord, to be my loving, tender, protective, faithful and trustworthy savior.

And you will, too.

Amen.

Monday, July 24, 2006

To Perish and Live

Mark 4:35-41

4:35 On that day, when evening had come, he said to them, "Let us go across to the other side.” 36 And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was. Other boats were with him. 37 A great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that the boat was already being swamped. 38 But he was in the stern, asleep on the cushion; and they woke him up and said to him, "Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?" 39 He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, "Peace! Be still!" Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm. 40 He said to them, "Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?" 41 And they were filled with great awe and said to one another, "Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?"

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Forgive me the clichéd metaphor, but a devastating windstorm has hit my life, and it is not subsiding. I'm sinking as wave after wave of heartache and despair crashes into me. In fact, I am “already swamped." I can’t take it anymore. I don’t have the ability to stay afloat, let alone sail. I don’t think I’m going to make it to the other side. Except for a niggling, erratic little faith, I am pretty much convinced that I am perishing.

Sure feels like it.

I have the great windstorm, the lashing waves, and the already swamped boat to prove that I am perishing. Often feels like Jesus is asleep at the stern of my life. Those disciples on the boat are not the only ones to ask the question of the Lord Jesus Christ, “Do you not care that I am perishing?” It sometimes looks like He doesn’t, when I look around my life, and it feels like He doesn’t, as I struggle to stay afloat.

Am I talking to someone who knows how I feel?

Do we both have something to learn from this reading?

"Let us go across to the other side," Jesus says innocuously enough.

So, the disciples leave the crowd behind, and embark on a journey with Jesus in the boat with them. It was a simple request. They weren’t anticipating trouble. The disciples were on that boat away from the shore when the “great windstorm” struck, not because of any irresponsible behavior on their part, but only because Jesus had wanted to get to the other side. As good disciples, they wanted to follow and please Jesus.

Suddenly, unexpectedly, they’re faced with lashing, high waves that swamp the boat with water, and gale force winds that rock the boat dangerously, leaving these seasoned fisherman reeling, overcome by fear because they believe they’re facing imminent death.

And Jesus, who is the reason they’re out there in the stormy waters, is asleep!

It feels like they are about to perish, along with their hopes of getting to the other side. And it looks like their teacher doesn’t care.

They were about to discover otherwise. They were about to learn more about Him.

“Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” They wake Him up, terrified and probably annoyed that He was sleeping.

They assume because Jesus is sleeping that He didn’t care about them. Their question is an accusation. An insult. It probably deeply hurt His feelings that His chosen were assuming the worst about Him. But, while the good Lord rebukes the wind to save them from perishing, He does not rebuke them. Instead, He demonstrates that they were wrong about Him, and points them to a deeper understanding of who He is -- and how much they can count on Him.

He woke up and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, "Peace! Be still!" Then the wind ceased, and there was a dead calm.

Then Jesus, probably disappointed in them, asks them a probing question. "Why are you afraid? Have you still no faith?"

It is one they have to answer for themselves. The experience on the boat probably will affect their response. It is a question that we are faced with today. And, like those disciples, our answer will be depend on how well we know the Lord Jesus Christ.

Filled with great awe by what He had done to save them -- when they couldn’t save themselves -- they ask the right question.

"Who then is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?"

I think it is significant that it took almost perishing for the disciples to reach that point. I think it is significant that it is in the boat, which is where they are probably most at home, most secure, most comfortable, and usually most in control, that they are shown the pathetic limits of their abilities, and the limitless power of God. They learn their complete dependence on God at that very place where their greatest strength perishes. When their human strength is shown for the sham that it is, they learn about God and His strength, and how much they do and can depend on Him. This is a lesson not only on the paucity of their faith and abilities, but on the infinite power of a living, caring God.

The truth is that even though it looked otherwise, Jesus did care – and, as long as He was in the boat with them, they were not going to perish. They did not realize this when they began that journey. They did not recognize who He was and what He could do.

They do, in fact, get across to the other side. But, not before a “great” windstorm had risen. Not just a windstorm, but, a “great” one. And waves beat into the boat. And the boat was “already” being swamped. Not just a little water coming in, but the boat was being “swamped.”

I think I know how that feels. Do you?

As the disciples wake up their sleeping teacher, they were about to wake up to who He really was. They were about to wake up to how much they could count on Him.
When Jesus wakes up, He demonstrates quickly and dramatically that He does care about their lives, and that He has the power and willingness to do something about it.

But this display of who He really is occurs only after the boat was already being swamped.

I am struck by the fact that they wouldn’t have seen this side of the Lord, if they hadn’t been caught in a storm that they could not handle at all, even though they were experienced fisherman. If things weren’t dire, they wouldn’t have needed Him, or felt the need to wake Him up, and they wouldn’t have seen Him do what they knew they could not. What if the wind had been strong, which made things difficult to navigate, but hardy, skilled fisherman that they were, they were up to the task? Well, they would have taken pride in steering that boat safely to the other side as the Lord had wanted. They would have reached there, and then woken Him up, and told Him the story of how they had weathered the strong wind, and safely navigated the boat. They may well have honed an inflated rather than sober sense of self.

All to their detriment.

They would have missed the vivid demonstration of God at work; they would have missed the unmistakable imprint of a divine encounter. They wouldn’t have needed Him. They would have missed the revelation of who Jesus is. Their lives would have been poorer for it. And, that question in their mind that was voiced, “Don’t you care?” well, it might not have been answered quite so decisively in their own lives.

In our lives, too, perhaps it takes a real fear of perishing, knowing that we are unable to fend for ourselves, for us to come to that place in our faith journey where we cast our very lives in God’s dependable hands. Perhaps it is necessary for our secure worlds to be torn asunder, for us to come to the very end of our abilities, in order to deepen our knowledge of Jesus Christ, raise our faith, and underscore our willingness to trust Him with our lives. Perhaps it is only when we come to the absolute end of our ability, when we are done with the last dregs of everything about ourselves that we trust, that we come to a place where we can know the full truth about Jesus. Both, about how much He loves, and how much we can trust Him.

As human beings, for the most part, if we can take credit, we will. Those disciples heard Jesus speak, and saw the effects. They couldn’t take the credit. Their question at the end is focused on Jesus, and on this new revelation of who He is: “Who then is this that even the wind and the sea obey him?”

Notice that this ends with the right question – they see something about Jesus they hadn’t seen before. If the wind and sea obey Him, well, He is no ordinary man; certainly not just an extraordinary teacher. It would be to their benefit to put their faith in Him, rather than in themselves. Surely, after witnessing this display of both His care and His power, their faith in Him would increase. The winds and seas obey His word, for crying out loud!

What if it is precisely because our boat is “already swamped” and a “great windstorm” is submerging us that we will come to know Jesus more intimately?

What if it turns out that we are not really perishing, after all, in spite of all the evidence to the contrary, because He is in our midst?

What if, indeed, despite all our drowned hopes, we do reach the other side because He travels with us?

What if this Lord we follow proves, yet again, that He is faithful, even when we doubt Him and insult Him?

What if our little faith is transformed to great faith precisely because of this great windstorm, because, stripped of all illusions about our selves and forced to depend on Him alone, He finally has our full attention and now has a chance to show us who He is, and how deeply He cares?

What if we see the works of God demonstrated in our midst in a way that is unmistakable?

What if a steadfast, loving, omnipotent God is working in our midst even now to make us into faithful and fearless disciples, who know Him intimately and love and trust Him completely?

So may it be. Amen.