hope

When a Candle Burns Low

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By Linda Rex

January 12, 2020, EPIPHANY | BAPTISM OF THE LORD—In my church, as we prepare the communion table every Sunday, we light three candles. The large white candle at the center is ostensibly the Christ candle, while the other two represent the other members of the Trinity. On occasion the Christ candle refuses to light when we hold a lit match to it, so we cut down the wax around the wick so it will light properly. Otherwise, our attempts to light it during the service become rather humorous.

The prophetic word for this Sunday is from Isaiah 42:1-9. This passage describes the Suffering Servant who would come to establish justice in the earth. He would be appointed as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations, to open blind eyes, to bring out prisoners from the dungeon and those who dwell in darkness from the prison. This was to be a new thing which the Creator of all would bring to pass on the earth.

In the middle of the passage, Isaiah says in verse 3 that “A bruised reed He will not break | And a dimly burning wick He will not extinguish.” It seems that this Suffering Servant would bring justice about in a manner that would involve compassion, concern for those who are suffering, and bringing light and freedom to those who are caught in the darkness. It would not involve coercion, oppression, or imposing his will on those around him.

It’s a common human experience to feel as though we are a dimly burning wick. If you have never had a blue day or a season of depression in your life, I congratulate you. You are very blessed. Speaking as one who has battled depression on and off throughout my life due to my family genetics, I can tell you that there are times when a person can feel very much like that dimly burning wick that’s just about ready to go out. In fact, when we are in the darkest parts of that place, we may even wish that someone would just blow out the fire and free us from the pain.

When I was at my darkest places, I had people tell me I should just cheer up, get my act together, and get on with my life. What they did not realize was that I had been trying to do that for quite some time and it just wasn’t happening. When the deep sadness is on, when the heart is broken or faltering, a person cannot just get their act together and become sunny and happy all at once. Telling someone who is depressed to turn to Jesus and to trust him is a nice thought, but for someone who is crying out to Jesus daily for the heart and will to go on, it is not helpful.

There are times when the inner candle burns low and begins to flicker, coming close to going out. Christ never intends for that flame to go out, but seeks to make it stronger and stronger. Sometimes, our darkness and sadness becomes our normal. It shields us from having to deal with the realities of the world around us. It keeps us from having to deal with the difficult places within that God is wanting us to address and bring to him for healing. It is important to take our times of being a dimly burning wick and to ask ourselves, what is keeping this candle from burning as God intended?

I know from personal experience that getting adequate counseling or even medication is not always an easy process, though it really ought to be done. Because of my previous history with taking antidepressants, mostly due to my fibromyalgia, my previous medical sharing group would not pay for anything related to mental health care. They effectively prevented me from getting help with something which genetically I needed help with, because they thought I shouldn’t need continuing assistance. This dimly burning wick to them was not worth their financial assistance or concern.

We will run into this when we are battling the darkness. This is why it is essential for us to trust in Christ, rather than in the efforts of human beings or medical practices. At times we need him to show us what is at the root of our darkness. There may be some old ways of believing, some false ideas about God or ourselves, which need to be trimmed away so the flame of God’s love and life may burn more freely and fully. There may be unhealthy relationships which need mending or hurts which may need forgiving. There may be anger which needs resolved or pain which needs healed. This is why we need safe people to talk with and we need to stay in relationship with others, even though we are being drawn into isolation and retreat.

We need to remember that God has given us through Christ and in the Spirit, a new heart. The evil one seeks to destroy our heart, to snuff out the light God has given us. Many times, a dimly burning wick is heart-sick—through loss, grief, anger, bitterness, or many other reasons. Jesus does not seek extinguish the little bit of life that is left, but rather to reignite it—to infuse it with the flame of his belovedness, the fire of his Father’s love in the Spirit.

When we read the story of the baptism of Jesus Christ, we find him being baptized, not because he was a sinner who needed redemption, but because all of us are sinners in need of redemption. He immersed our humanity in his immersion, rising up out of the water to receive the Spirit lighting upon him as a dove. Standing there, with the baptism waters dripping from his frame, he heard with us his Father’s voice, saying, “This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well-pleased.”

Whatever may be keeping us in our dark place, we need to take seriously what Jesus did for us in this moment. His inclusion of our humanity in his baptism, in his receiving of the Spirit, and in receiving his Father’s blessing, is the root of all our healing—physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual. Even though it may seem as if we have no hope, the one thing God offers us in the gift of his Son and his Spirit is hope. But it may require a little trimming of the candle for us to experience the hope we need to keep our wick burning.

At times, it may not feel like he hears you or sees you—but he is tenderly nursing the flame within you. He is present, sharing the darkness with you, even though you may not be able to sense his presence in you or with you. It takes courage, fortitude, and endurance to battle the darkness. It takes boldness—a willingness to go places you’d rather not go, to take risks you’d rather not take, to move beyond the deep sadness back into the light.

Yes, turn to Christ. But do more than that—receive the gift Christ has given in sharing with us his belovedness, the all-surpassing immensity of the Father’s love. Allow God to carry you through this season, resting in the reality that he is in you, with you, and for you. He has given you his word—he will never leave or forsake you, but will be with you to the end. Allow him to be your living Lord, present in and with you by the Spirit, caring for you in your darkest moment, and bringing you, in his good time, to a brighter place.

Dear Abba, thank you for giving us hope in our darkest places. Thank you, Jesus, for joining us there, identifying with us in our brokenness, struggles, and darkness, and bringing us into your light. Lord, give us this day a reason to go on—the heart to keep trying. Do not allow us to be extinguished, but to begin to glow again with new light—through you, Jesus, and by your Spirit. Amen.

“You know of Jesus of Nazareth, how God anointed Him with the Holy Spirit and with power, and how He went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with Him.” Acts 10:38 NASB

“After being baptized, Jesus came up immediately from the water; and behold, the heavens were opened, and he saw the Spirit of God descending as a dove and lighting on Him, and behold, a voice out of the heavens said, ‘This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well-pleased.’” Matthew 3:13–17 NASB

Turn Us Again to Yourself

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By Linda Rex

LOVE
December 22, 2019, 4th Sunday of Advent
—I was reading a devotional this morning which used the story in the gospels of a man who was bound by demons and wandering about in the tombs, in the region of the dead. This man broke any chains that held him, but when Jesus spoke to him, he found true freedom.

How often I have felt like this man, wandering about in my own personal chains, unwilling to be shackled by the bonds of love God has for me. How often I have harmed myself rather than submitting myself to the love and grace of God as expressed to me in his will for my life! I know I am not alone in this—I see it often in people around me. It is our human condition apart from God’s merciful intervention.

One of the most basic steps in facing our addictions and being freed from them is coming to understand that apart from the intervention of a “higher power’, we cannot be free. We can try harder and harder, we can work the plan faithfully, but we have to eventually end up at the place where we realize in a deep and significant way that apart from divine intervention, we have no hope of ever being any different than we are right now.

God’s method of intervening in our circumstances did not involve him being a distant, cold and uninvolved deity. Nor did he seek vengeance on us for our pitiful failures at trying to be what we believe we need to be in order for him to accept us. God’s way of turning our hearts back to him, of restoring our relationship with him, was to enter into our very existence as a human being and to personally turn us around back into face to face relationship with himself.

Historically, the nation of Israel was in many ways like you and me. They were brought into relationship with God, but they refused to let him be the center of their life. For a while they would live as his people, but in time they would turn away from him, back into their idolatry and hedonism. They would reap the results of living life on their own terms, come to the end of themselves, and then turn again to him—for a while.

But this was not a surprise to God. None of this is. He knew long before our cosmos existed that we would have this proclivity to turn away from him to other things. He knew it would require his personal involvement to restore us back to our original design so that we could be the image-bearers of God he intended us to be.

We hear the cry in Psalm 80:2b-3, 7, 17-19 of the psalmist Asaph asking three times, “Turn us again to yourself, O God. Make your face shine down upon us. Only then will we be saved.” Prophetically he pointed to a Son who would be the source of our genuine revival, the only means by which any of us will be saved. Our only hope of being people who would never abandon God would be for God to himself turn our hearts back.

So we have in Isaiah 7:14 the promise of a virgin bearing a son who would be called Immanuel, meaning ‘God with us.’ What a thrilling promise! This Advent season, as we gaze upon the nativity scenes we see around us, as we are reminded of the reason for the season, we are given a hope for something more than our constant failures to love. We are able to have peace of mind and heart because we know God has sent us a Savior—someone who has done and will do what we cannot and will not do. We are able to have joy, because we are celebrating the reality that God has come and stands in our stead, on our behalf, filling us with his real presence in the Holy Spirit.

Advent reminds us that when Israel had absolutely no hope of ever getting anything right with God ever again, God did not forsake her. He came himself, in the womb of a virgin, allowing himself to be carried as a promise to his people of their deliverance. Advent reminds us that we are not left abandoned in our sin and selfishness—there is a Savior who is one of us and yet is God himself—he has come to bind us once and for all to God with unbreakable cords of love and grace.

The kingdom of God has come in Jesus Christ, and today we as his people are pregnant with his presence by the Holy Spirit. God is even at this moment working deliverance in this world—preparing for the day when all things will be transformed completely and God will finally dwell forever with humankind. Our failures to love, our sinfulness and the evil which so often enslaves us, do not and will not stand in the way of God accomplishing what he set out to do from before the beginning of this cosmos. He will finish what he has begun—he is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end.

Advent teaches us love in a profound way—of God’s desire to be near to us, so near that he actually enters into our human existence himself. The presence of God in our humanity is the greatest gift of love God could ever give. He knew the cost of this gift would be the suffering and death of his Son, but he gave it anyway. He knew the rejection of his Spirit which would occur, but he gave his Spirit anyway. God freely gives—do we receive?

Whatever struggles we may have with our addictions or failures to love God and others, we find in Jesus that God is present and real in the midst of them. He is at work, as we are willing, to heal, restore, and renew. We are given Jesus Christ—he is in us and with us by the Holy Spirit. What is our response?

I’ve often thought that Joseph was an incredible man. He had betrothed himself to a young virgin who turned out to be pregnant with someone else’s child. He could have made a public spectacle of her—but he was so loving in not wanting to do this. And when God told him to marry her anyway, he did it (Matthew 1:18–25). His humility and sacrificial spirit bear witness to the humility and sacrificial Spirit of God himself. Will we in this same Spirit of humility and sacrifice receive the wonderful Gift of God in our humanity? Will we surrender to the reality we are in desperate need of God, and God in Christ has come, is present now by the Spirit, and will come again one day?

Thank you, Abba, for loving us so well. It was not enough for you to create all things, to set everything in motion, and to walk away. You dove right in, taking our very humanity upon yourself in your Son Jesus, renewing us from the inside out. Thank you for sending us your Spirit, enabling us to be one with you, and to be healed, restored, and renewed, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

“… concerning His Son, who was born of a descendant of David according to the flesh, who was declared the Son of God with power 1by the resurrection from the dead, according to the Spirit of holiness, Jesus Christ our Lord, through whom we have received grace and apostleship to bring about the obedience of faith among all the Gentiles for His name’s sake, among whom you also are the called of Jesus Christ; to all who are beloved of God…” Romans 1:3-7a NASB

Finding Gladness and Joy

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By Linda Rex

JOY
December 15, 2019, 3rd Sunday of Advent—In spite of the overflow of Christmas decorations, holiday events and carols on the radio, I find an undercurrent of sadness and despair rearing its head here and there. There are memories of the past which bring sorrow and pleasure and there’s news of the present, both personal and community, which bring pain, anger, and compassion. How do I reconcile this season of Advent with the real struggles of the human heart and mind?

Whether we like it or not, we need to be able to come to terms with the contradiction or conflict between what we want to believe is true or do believe is true and what we experience in our day to day lives. There are times when we can’t help but ask, “What kind of God would …. ?”—and insert those questions which immediately come to our mind. They are all summed up in this—what kind of God would leave us in our hell and not come to deliver us?

We’re not the only ones who wrestle with the disconnect between reality and belief. Imagine believing that God has given you the responsibility and inspiration to prepare the way for the coming Messiah, so you go out and courageously begin to tell everyone to repent and believe, and the next thing you know you are rotting away in prison waiting for the day you will quite literally lose your head. And the Messiah who you were preparing the way for is doing nothing to deliver you. He’s your first cousin, after all, shouldn’t he be doing something about it? If he was really the Messiah, wouldn’t he intervene in a dramatic way to save the day?

Whether we like it or not, God seems to be a God of contradictions, of two seemingly polar opposites held together in the tension of love and grace we find in Jesus Christ. Here he is, a fulfillment of all the hopes and dreams of his people, of the promises for deliverance, renewal, gladness and joy, and yet he comes as an infant, born of a virgin yet the cause of many other babies being slaughtered, growing up as a human boy ridiculed by his peers for being illegitimate, eventually rejected by his people, and executed on a shameful cross. The profound contradictions are an essential means of expressing the reality of Christ’s identity as being both fully God and fully man.

And this is where Advent finds its joy and gladness in the midst of sorrow, suffering, abuse, evil, and horror. What we must understand more than anything else is that we were never meant to be left alone in the midst of all we are going through. Even though these consequences are most certainly a result of our choices as human beings and the brokenness and imperfections of our cosmos and our humanity, we were never intended to have to resolve any of this on our own. We were always meant to be partners in our existence with the One who made it all.

A better question would be to ask, “What kind of God would so ache for his lost and suffering creation that he would set aside the privileges and community of his divinity to enter into his creation and begin to heal it from the inside out?” And what would it take for God to heal what he has made? It would require assuming upon himself what was broken and sinful, and step by step, moment by moment, hour by hour, within our humanity, forging a new existence for us even when it meant dying an excruciating death at the hands of those he came to save.

This seems all pie in the sky. Why even believe there is such a God? He doesn’t seem to care about the fact that I can’t come up with enough money to pay for Christmas presents this year. He doesn’t seem to care that my child is laying in a hospital bed, dying of incurable cancer. He seems indifferent to the reality that I cannot solve this problem with my family member who is shackled by a habit that won’t let him go. What kind of God would let these things go on and on and not solve them?

Jesus’ answer to John the Baptizer was much different that the one he was probably expecting. John wanted to know whether or not Jesus was the fulfillment of all the expectations of his people. By what was happening in his life at that moment, it really didn’t seem like he was. But Jesus sent his disciples back to John, saying “Go and report to John what you hear and see: the blind receive sight and the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, and the poor have the gospel preached to them. And blessed is he who does not take offense at Me.” (Matthew 11:2-6 NASB) I am doing the work of the Messiah, he said, so don’t be offended if it doesn’t look the way you expect it to look or that I don’t release you immediately from your personal dilemma.

Did you notice what Jesus was doing for the poor people? He wasn’t giving them money. He wasn’t making them rich—he was preaching the gospel to them. People who needed to be healed were being healed, some people were even being raised from the dead, and others who were struggling were being given the message of hope, a call to turn away from themselves and to turn to Christ. In all these things, Jesus was fulfilling his role as Messiah, but there were many people who were present on earth at this time who did not experience what these people Jesus helped experienced. And John, as a witness to the Messiah’s ministry, was for a time one of these seemingly overlooked ones.

Perhaps John needed to be reminded of the story from his people’s history of Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-nego, three men who served with the prophet Daniel as leaders in Nebuchadnezzar’s kingdom of Babylon. The king built a great golden image in Dura and then told everyone they had to worship it or be thrown into a furnace. The day came when the three men were challenged by some Chaldeans with not obeying this decree. The king asked them why they would not obey him.

Their reply is instructive. They told the king that they would only worship Israel’s God and that their God would save them. But even if he didn’t save them, they would still not bow the knee to the king’s idol. They had the opportunity to face the possibility that God might not intervene for them in the way they expected and they determined beforehand that even if God didn’t come through in the way they expected, they would still believe and trust in the goodness and love of God. How many of us can say we would respond with the same fortitude, faith, and humility?

So, the story continues: They are thrown into the furnace which had been heated seven times hotter than before. In fact, it was so hot, that the men who threw them in died from the heat and fire. At this, the king’s anger began to subside. But after a while, the king saw four men walking around in the fire, one of which they described as being like “a son of the gods”. At this point the king called them out of the fire, and the three men came out, untouched by the flames.

Even though these three men bore witness to God, refusing to compromise their belief in him, they still were faced with death and destruction, the loss of life and liberty. God did not come through for them in the way they wanted him to. But they had already decided beforehand not to be offended by God’s lack of intervention in their circumstances. Are we as equally willing to allow God to be the God he is? Are we willing to, rather than asking God to repent and to change his mind, allow him to work things out his own way on his own time schedule, trusting in his perfect love?

This is a real struggle for us as human beings. If Jesus really is God in human flesh, where is he right now while my life is falling apart before my eyes? If God really does care about me and love me, then why doesn’t he intervene and remove my suffering and struggle? How can he be a loving God and expect me to deal with this pain, this personal struggle, day after day after day?

It is important to grab hold of the beautiful mystery of Christmas—of God coming into our humanity, living our life, dying our death, and rising again. This means there is no part of our broken human existence that he does not, in this moment, share in. Perhaps we must linger in the fire a little longer, but we were never meant to bear these flames alone. Maybe we must cry again for the loss of someone dear, but here is Jesus weeping with us, present in this moment by the comforting Spirit in our pain. Awaken to the spiritual reality that Jesus is in us, with us, for us. This isn’t just wishful thinking, but a true reality.

May the Holy Spirit awaken in you an awareness of the real, present Lord. May you begin to experience God’s comfort and infinite peace in the midst of your struggles and pain. May you not be offended that God does not meet your expectations of deliverance. And may you know, beyond a shadow of doubt, that you are deeply loved and cherished, in spite of what your circumstances and feelings may be telling you in this moment. May you find and experience the inner gladness and joy which is solely a gift of the blessed Spirit of God straight from the heart of the Father through the indwelling Christ.

Dearest Abba, come to us. Meet us here in the flames of our suffering, grief, loneliness, and pain. Holy Spirit, make real to us the endless deep love of God. Remove our doubts and fear. Free us from the shackles of our resentment, bitterness, and feelings of offense. Forgive us for refusing to believe. Grant us instead the grace to rest, to trust in your perfect love, through Jesus our Lord. Amen.

“The wilderness and the desert will be glad, | And the Arabah will rejoice and blossom; | Like the crocus | It will blossom profusely | And rejoice with rejoicing and shout of joy. | The glory of Lebanon will be given to it, | The majesty of Carmel and Sharon. | They will see the glory of the Lord, | The majesty of our God. … And the ransomed of the LORD will return | And come with joyful shouting to Zion, | With everlasting joy upon their heads. | They will find gladness and joy, | And sorrow and sighing will flee away.” Isaiah 35:1–2, 10 NASB

“My soul exalts the Lord, | And my spirit has rejoiced in God my Savior. | For He has had regard for the humble state of His bondslave; | For behold, from this time on all generations will count me blessed. | For the Mighty One has done great things for me; | And holy is His name.” Luke 1:46b-49 NASB

Is That the Alarm—Already?

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By Linda Rex

HOPE
December 1, 2019, 1st Sunday of Advent—Years ago my body clock used to wake me up before my alarm went off at five in the morning. I was grateful for this because there was nothing I hated more than to be woken from a sweet dream by the hideous drone of the alarm clock. I’ve had that alarm clock for years and now when I set it and then turn it off, in the morning it still buzzes. It’s on those days when I’m trying to sleep in and it wakes me up anyway that I have a distinct desire to throw that old alarm clock in the waste bin.

Back when the apostle Paul was writing his letter to the people in Rome, I doubt very much he had an annoying electric alarm clock. But he understood very well the need for us to be woken from our sleep—to resist our tendency to find that place of least resistance and stay there.

We are entering the season of Advent, when we reflect on and celebrate the entering in of the Word of God into our humanity in the incarnation. The people of Israel had longed for many years for their messiah to come and rescue them from their oppressors. They had the scriptures preserved by their prophets and priests which told them about his coming, and they longed for him to bring to pass the new age of the Spirit when they would be given the heart to obey and serve their God.

The sad reality of the first advent of Christ was that when he did come, he was not recognized. He was not what the people expected, so they rejected him and in the end saw that he was executed in an excruciating death on the cross. What they longed for and wanted for so long, they did not accept, but denied and rejected. They preferred their spiritual sleep, their political power, their religious trappings, and their physical comforts rather than being willing to awaken to their need for the Messiah to deliver them from evil, sin, and death.

If they had been alert to the spiritual realities, they would have remembered the lesson found in their history in the story of Noah. The people of Noah’s day had their focus on eating, drinking, and all the everyday activities of their lives. Even though Noah and his family were a clear witness to them of their coming destruction, these people ignored the warning. They had the opportunity to be saved, but they refused it. The ark was built, the animals—who obeyed the call to be saved—were placed on the ark, but when the flood came, only Noah and his family entered into that salvation and survived the flood.

When Jesus spoke of his second advent, he used the story of Noah to alert people to their tendency to ignore the warning signs of coming destruction. As human beings, we often know the right thing to do, but we don’t do it, even though we know the possible consequences of not doing it. We realize that following our flesh reaps us death and destruction, but we still choose to listen to its desires and fulfill them. We have been given deliverance from evil, sin, and death in Jesus Christ—but what do we do with this gift? This is a critical question.

As human beings, our sinful proclivities draw us down a path God never meant for us to go. And this is why Jesus came—why we celebrate the season of Advent. Jesus came to free us from our sinful nature and to write within us a new heart and mind which wants to live in the freedom God created us for. God in Christ took on our sinful humanity, lived our life, died our death, and rose again, bringing us into the presence of the Father. This is the spiritual reality of our redeemed human existence—the objective union of God with man in the person of Jesus Christ.

God has done in Christ all that is needed for our salvation. He has built the ark, gathered the animals, and has everything in order, ready to save us. We are as good as saved—evil, sin, and death have been conquered by Jesus. We have new life in him—the flood of God’s grace and love has come to cleanse the earth, but are we on the ark? Are we living in the spiritual reality of God’s redeeming grace? Or are we still asleep—laughing at the idiots who would build a big boat when there is no rain or water to be seen?

Paul emphasizes our need to wake up—for our salvation is nearer than when we first believed. Indeed, the more we grow in our relationship with our God, the more we see our need for redemption, and the brighter the light of his redeeming grace is in the dark places in our hearts and lives. We can continue to live as though God has not saved us, is not saving us, will not save us. Or we can wake up to the reality that this is exactly what has happened, is happening, and will happen.

Advent is a time to be reminded of our need to wake up to the signs of the times—Christ has come, is present now by the Spirit, and is coming again to restore all things. We need to be alert to the spiritual realities and live in the truth of who we are as God’s beloved adopted children. The family we have been adopted into does not live in the darkness, but in the light. Our Abba loves and is loved, and this is what we are created for—to love God and love our neighbor.

Our old ways of self-centered, self-reliant, self-indulgent living are but a bad dream. We have a new life we have been given, the life of Christ, and we are to waken and live in the truth of who we are in him. Our loving Father says to us, “Get out of bed, get your dark pajamas of evil, sin, and death off, and put on the heavenly garments of grace and love, the Lord Jesus Christ. Get busy in the new day of your existence in the kingdom of light.”

We sometimes get obsessed with trying to figure out when Jesus Christ is going to return again. But Jesus says to us, “Wake up. Be attentive to my presence and coming right now.” The advent or Parousia (coming and presence) of Jesus Christ is actually one long extended event. Jesus came over 2000 years ago, died and rose again, but sent his Spirit, being present with us even now, and will come in glory when he returns again.

The calling for the church is to live awake to the real coming and presence of the Lord Jesus Christ right now—to live in a constant state of expectation, longing for his real presence in our everyday lives, alert to what he is doing and will do even now to redeem, restore, and renew all things. We are encouraged to put off our old ways of self-centered living and put on the new life given us in Christ. Yes, the alarm is going off and we may not want to admit it, but the truth is—it’s time to wake up!

Dear Abba, we’re finding it hard to get out of bed, to awaken to the glorious reality of our new life in Christ. Help us to get our old pajamas of evil, sin, and death off and to gladly put on our Lord Jesus Christ, the heavenly garments of love and grace you have handmade for us. Holy Spirit, keep us ever awake to the spiritual realities, to God’s presence in each moment of every day, and enable us to live in the truth of who we are in Christ. In his name we pray. Amen.

“Do this, knowing the time, that it is already the hour for you to awaken from sleep; for now salvation is nearer to us than when we believed. The night is almost gone, and the day is near. Therefore let us lay aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light. Let us behave properly as in the day, not in carousing and drunkenness, not in sexual promiscuity and sensuality, not in strife and jealousy. But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh in regard to its lusts. Romans 13:11–14 NASB

See also Matthew 24:36–44.

Changing Our Inner Lens

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By Linda Rex

September 15, 2019, Proper 19—The parable about the lost coin nearly always brings to my mind the many times when I have lost something important and have searched all over in my attempts to find it. As I get older, I’m discovering that it’s getting easier for me to lose things and harder for me to find them. I confess that on occasion I have had to use my landline phone to call my cellphone because I could not find it anywhere.

My daughter dreads hearing me say that I can’t find my glasses because she knows they could be just about anywhere. She immediately checks to make sure they are not on my head—sometimes things are not as badly lost as we think they are. Sometimes we just need to change our viewpoint or our perspective, or what we believe to be true.

This parable of the lost coin shows the heart of our loving Abba, who is willing to go to great lengths to ensure that each of his children has a place at his table. It’s bad enough that we believe he’s looking for reasons to exclude us, but then we also often believe that he is indifferent as to whether or not we’re even present in his life. Neither are true.

The coin the woman searched for was a drachma, worth about a day’s wages. Back when I was an hourly employee earning minimum wage, losing a day’s wages was equivalent to not having any water that month or not being able to put gas in the car. When I lost a day’s wages or lost a valuable check, I was concerned. I needed every penny I earned. I had bills to pay and kids to feed and care for.

The diligence with which the house got searched increased with the value of the item lost. The urgency with which this woman searched her house was a reflection of the value she placed upon that lost coin. It is a reflection of the passion with which our Abba searches for his lost ones. Finding those who are his lost ones and bringing them home to be with him was very important to Abba—so important that the Word of God, his Son, came into our cosmos, shared in our humanity and our suffering, and brought us home to be with Abba forever.

There is no person today who is completely and totally lost, who is not found in Christ. On God’s side, he has searched out and found each and every one of us—including us in the humanity of our risen Lord. Our lostness is a matter of unbelief, not of spiritual reality. What we believe about God, about ourselves, and about who Jesus is and what he did, is critical. If we believe we are lost, forsaken, and abandoned, we will live as though that is true. But if we believe Christ has come and brought us home to his Father (which he has), then we will live as though that is true, and live in the joy, peace, and hope of God as we participate in Christ’s perfect relationship with his Father in the Spirit.

Now sometimes we can be so sure of our own goodness and righteousness that we don’t realize we have wandered away from the God who loves us. This was what Jesus faced when the scribes and Pharisees began to criticize him for eating with sinners. When we begin to delineate between righteous people and sinners, including ourselves in the righteous group, we are in a dangerous place. We are declaring ourselves as having no need for Jesus and for what he did for us. We are denying reality.

Jesus emphasized our need to see ourselves accurately—as sinners in need of grace. As long as we believe we are righteous and do not need to be saved, we have no need of Jesus. We can live in this place of denial all our lives, but there will come a point where we will need to face the reality that apart from Jesus, we are lost. Apart from his finished work in his life, death, resurrection and ascension, we don’t have life today or hope for the future. We need to accept the truth that our eternity, and our present, are wrapped up in Jesus—he is our life. He is our right relationship with God and others.

There is great joy in heaven, Jesus said, when someone throws away the blinders and begins to see themselves with clear vision. Confessing the truth about ourselves paves the way for us to begin to live and walk in truth, in the spiritual realities in which we were included when Jesus came in our place on our behalf. And living in the reality that we are sinners saved by grace, beloved adopted children of the Father, changes how we treat those around us.

Instead of focusing on the failures, faults, and weaknesses of those around us, we focus on Christ—on him being at work in each person and in their lives by the Spirit, helping them come to see and believe that they too have been found and brought home to the Father. Rather than offering ridicule, criticism or condemnation, we offer encouragement, comfort, and understanding. Rather than rejecting or belittling them, we pray for them and offer them appropriate support.

It is in these ways that we participate with Jesus in searching for the lost and bringing them home to the Father. God has already done the hard part in the finished work of Christ and the gift of the Spirit. Now we get to join in as we follow Christ and the lead of the Spirit as God works in each person’s life to bring them to faith. We pray for them and share the good news with them. We share the love of God, extending the grace and mercy of Jesus, and trust God to finish what he already has begun in each person’s life.

So, today, how do we need to reconsider the way we look ourselves and the people around us? Are we using a clear and accurate lens? Do we see things through the lens of Jesus Christ? We may need to ask Abba for new glasses—or maybe we just need to clean the grime off of them so we can see things the way they really are. Either way, we may just discover that what we believe is lost has already been found.

Dear Abba, thank you for so diligently searching for us, finding us, and bringing us home to you. Give us clear vision, the lens of your Son Jesus Christ. Fill us anew with the Spirit of truth so we not only see the spiritual realities, but also the truth about those you have placed in our lives. Enable us to love them as you have loved us, through Jesus our Lord and by your Spirit. Amen.

“Both the Pharisees and the scribes began to grumble, saying, ‘This man receives sinners and eats with them.’… I tell you that in the same way, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance….In the same way, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.’” Luke 15:2, 7, 10 NASB

Ready and Waiting

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By Linda Rex

Back in the late 1990’s, Y2K was a common descriptor used to describe the changeover between 2000 to 2100. I was amazed at the number of apocalyptic movies which came out around that time. It seemed that many people besides Nostradamus held strong opinions about how the world was going to end and if/or when Jesus Christ would return.

I have read many books and articles over the years which talk about how Jesus is coming to punish all the bad people on earth while rescuing his good people from the coming evil or “great tribulation.” Often the focus is on how bad this world is becoming and how desperate we will be to have Jesus rescue us from all the evil Satan is going to perpetrate in “the end times.”

Whatever God decides to do in order to fulfill the scriptures he inspired in his Word, what really matters to me in the long run is that Jesus is coming back for his own and he will once and for all make right the wrongs of this world, bringing to fruition what he completed on the cross. The symbol of the bread and wine blessed and shared at the last supper is like the promise of a groom to return one day in the future and to take his bride home to be with him forever. Meanwhile he has a dwelling place to prepare for her and spends her days preparing in anticipation of his return.

As I personally wait for my own groom to wed me, I’m seeing that we can look forward to Jesus’ return with either dread and fear or longing expectation and desire. Do we believe that even now he is present by his Spirit in every situation and loves us faithful and completely? Are we spending our days preparing for his coming and caring for those who are suffering or in need as we wait? Do we believe that our Beloved will come again and take us to be with him in glory forever?

There is a dress hanging in my room which was picked out with this special day in mind. This brings to mind the robes of righteousness Jesus has given us to wear. We are encouraged to cast off our old garments of sin and shame and to don the new outfit Jesus created for us in his incarnation, crucifixion, and resurrection. We know that when he comes, we will be like him (1 John 3:2), and since he shines with great glory and beauty as the eternal God/man, we will be given glorious bodies which will be dressed up in his very own righteousness.

I was so grateful to watch and help as our ladies lovingly and creatively dressed up the church for the wedding tomorrow. The candles and flowers, ribbons and paper bells tell everyone this is a very special day. A special meal is being prepared for the reception by a gifted man which will bless all those who eat it. Everything points to the celebration of the joining together of two lives into a new oneness or whole.

What Jesus did was to perfect our humanity and to include us in his perfect relationship with his heavenly Father. Our human focus is so often on our moral behavior rather than on how we are bound together with God and one another in love by the Holy Spirit. We were designed for this perichoretic oneness with God and each other—and the only way this could or would happen was through God transforming our humanity from the inside out. In Jesus, the joining together of two substantially different essences into one being made possible our new existence as adopted children of the Father.

The Word of God entered into our sphere of existence and in his life, death, resurrection, and ascension, joined our humanity with his divinity. In the sending of his Spirit, he enabled each of us to participate in a real way in these spiritual realities. The point of Jesus’ return includes the reality of heaven and earth joining together forever in glory. The new heaven and new earth, with the glorious new Jerusalem as her brightest gem, is the culmination of God’s story laid out in Scripture—Eden and its glories now surpassed by and fulfilled in the new heaven and new earth where God will dwell with man.

We can look forward to the second coming of Jesus with anticipation and expectation rather than dread because God has given us these wonderful and precious promises. Jesus has blessed us with the seal of his Holy Spirit, his personal presence in us and with us from the Father. Our hearts can be filled with joy, faith, hope, and love, for Christ is faithful and will come again to take us to live with him forever in that beautiful world he is creating for us while we wait for his return.

Thank you, God, for wanting to live with us forever, and for being willing to pay the steep price for our redemption and restoration. Thank you, Jesus, for your faithful promise and precious Spirit, by whom you live in and with us even now. Thank you that you are coming soon—we love you and want to be with you even now. Amen.

“And the city has no need of the sun or of the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God has illumined it, and its lamp is the Lamb. The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it.” Revelation 22:23-24 NASB

“Jesus answered and said to him, ‘If anyone loves Me, he will keep My word; and My Father will love him, and We will come to him and make Our abode with him.’” John 14:23 NASB

Waiting in Silence

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By Linda Rex

HOLY SATURDAY—Sometimes when wandering through a garden or while I’m picking berries, I’ll come across a cocoon hidden under some leaves. Looking at the neatly formed shape, I will marvel at God’s creation, and then I will wonder just what might be lying inside.

There within this cocoon a transformation is taking place. I once read that while in its cocoon, all a caterpillar was is reduced down to its elements and reformed into something new. The butterfly or moth which eventually pushes its way out from the cocoon may look completely different from its earlier form, but it is still in essence the same creature.

From the outside, the cocoon is like a tomb. There doesn’t appear to be any activity. It looks like a misshapen blob at times—something which needs to be removed from the plant or limb and thrown away. Even though something significant is going on inside, it is not obviously apparent to anyone who happens upon it.

On Holy Saturday we are reminded of how Jesus’s body was removed from the cross and laid in a tomb. Nicodemus brought myrrh and aloes, and helped Joseph of Arimathea with the burial process, wrapping the body linen and spices. The new tomb in the garden near where Jesus was crucified was blessed to receive the body of our Savior.

After Jesus was laid in the tomb, a stone was rolled in front of the entrance to close it. The Jews asked that the tomb be sealed, and it was—they hoped to prevent a rumor that Jesus had risen from the dead. They had heard that Jesus had promised to rise again, and thought it was only the vain hope of a would-be messiah. They did what they could to ensure the tomb could not be tampered with.

If we had sat opposite the tomb on Saturday, as Mary and Mary Magdalene had done the night before, we would have seen a silent spectacle. We would have had no ability to see what was going on inside the tomb. The grave would have been silent, with the only sounds being the wind rustling the tree leaves, the birds singing, or perhaps the voices and activities of people nearby.

Looking hard at the tomb, we would have seen only stillness. Considering the dead body within, we’d only hear silence. There would only be darkness within the tomb, we’d reason—nothing would be going on. When a person dies and is laid in the grave, all that’s left is decomposition and eventually dried out bones and dust. From the exterior, we would have had to assume that this was what was happening here, and that this was the end of all we had hoped and planned.

Maybe after a while, we would remember that Jesus liked talking about seeds in reference to himself and the kingdom of God. A seed, he said, must die in order for a new plant to grow and for many new seeds to be harvested. For Jesus, death never stood alone on its own—it was always accompanied by resurrection. He wanted his followers to understand that his path needed to go down the road to death, but that was never meant to be the end. Jesus’ death was only a step along the path to new life for all humanity.

This is a good thought. What if we saw the times of death, of silent waiting, not as times to grieve, but rather as times to hope? What if, instead of imagining someone going back to the dust from which they were made, we picture instead the renewal and transformation of what has been laid in the tomb? Maybe we should look at the places in our lives or relationships which appear to be dead and lifeless as being places where seeds have been planted which only need the light and water of God’s presence and power to bring about new life and an abundant harvest.

It is easy to come to places in our lives where we are faced with death and dying. The human story is one in which death occurs constantly—not just death of people, but death of dreams, relationships, businesses, or even churches. We fear death, when actually we should embrace death as the path Jesus trod in order that we might experience new life and new existence grounded within himself. Death can be a good thing, especially when we die to wrong ways of thinking or living or we die to the control of our broken sinful ways of being.

The spiritual discipline of silence in some ways resonates with the silent waiting at the tomb of Jesus. In silence, we set ourselves in God’s presence to listen and to wait, allowing ourselves to become attuned to the heart of the Father. When our attention wanders or our mind takes off on some errant thought, we need only redirect ourselves back to silence. Here we are, in this moment, with God. What does he have to say to us?

When we are busy going about our lives, caught up in the day-to-day issues we face, we may miss the growth and healing opportunities which come through attending upon God in silence. There is an intimacy in our relationship with God which grows when we slow down to pause and just be with God for a time. Perhaps we could spend a few minutes even now, picturing ourselves sitting beside the tomb, pondering what just happened this week and wondering what God is planning to do next.

Is there some place in your life where you are facing death or loss? Do you have a place in your life which feels as though it is dark and empty, with no hope of renewal? Perhaps symbolically you may take this into your hands and hold it out to God, laying it in the tomb with Jesus. And then wait for a time in silence. Allow Jesus to meet you in these moments, to remind you of his promise, which he kept in faithful love.

The seed planted in the ground often lays there for a time. The roots may be growing deep into the soil long before we ever see a sprout. Jesus lay in the tomb and all was silent—but great, amazing things were at work in God’s creation. A renewal, a turning about of all which was broken, lost, and dying was happening as Jesus Christ lay in the grave.

Holy Saturday reminds us that God is always and ever at work in our lives. As we turn to Jesus in faith, the Spirit reminds us that God loves us and has our best interests at heart even when all we see is a silent grave. Abba is a working, renewing, restoring, and healing, even though we may not see him at work. As we rest in Christ and wait in silence, we can find renewal and encouragement to hope in times of despair. God is at work and will not stop until he has finished what he has begun. We can count on him.

Thank you, Abba, that you never cease to bring new life and hope into our lives. Thank you, Jesus, for embracing death so that we could share eternal life with you. Holy Spirit, remind us anew that we are loved and cared for, and that Abba will work all things to the good, through Jesus our Lord. Amen.

“Therefore because of the Jewish day of preparation, since the tomb was nearby, they laid Jesus there.” John 19:42 NASB