rest
The One Who Understands
By Linda Rex
October 13, 2024, Proper 23 | After Pentecost—In the message last week, we were reminded of who God is and who we are as his beloved children. We approach our relationship with God from the vantage point of beloved children, who are dependent upon our loving parent, the one who directs us, provides for us, cares for us, and seeks our best.
As we continue our journey through the book of Hebrews, we come to this Sunday’s passage in which we see Jesus at God’s right hand, interceding for us as our high priest. In Hebrews 4:12–16, the author shows us how Jesus, as the One who took on our human form and fully experienced our human existence, is able to intercede on our behalf with deep compassion and understanding. He did not yield to sin, even though he experienced the same temptations we do.
Today, many of us may not even know what someone is talking about when they talk about a high priest. But this is an important biblical concept, especially in regards to God’s covenant of love which he forged with his people, the ancient nation of Israel. The role of the high priest was that of a representative who ministered the word of God to the people, and offered the sacrifices and prayers of the people to God. This was all done according to God’s instructions, and was a way in which the nation could live in right relationship with God even though they were a flawed and faulty people. This relationship with God was a gift, made possible by God’s mercy and grace, simply because of God’s way of being, which is self-giving, other-centered love.
We as human beings do not live our lives in a vacuum, nor do we live our lives unseen by God. No, he knows us down to the core of our being, with all our flaws, all our glories, and all our weaknesses. What is interesting about this passage is that when the author says, “all things are open and laid bare to the eyes of Him with whom we have to do,” it is using an expression commonly used to describe the neck of a creature being exposed so that it can be cut with a blade for sacrifice. In Jesus’ sacrifice, we as human beings are laid open, completely exposed, but in such a way that he stands in our place, interceding on our behalf. As the living Word of God in human flesh, who allowed himself to be crucified for our sake, Jesus Christ wrote the word of God on our minds and hearts. He turned us back to his Father in the Spirit, bringing us into his own face-to-face relationship.
And in that complete openness to the gaze of God, we are held within Jesus’ own life of faith in relationship with his Father in the Spirit. Jesus’ presence with his Father in the Spirit means that we can approach God with confidence and courage, trusting in Jesus’ complete sympathetic understanding of our weaknesses and temptations. In the humble recognition of our need for grace and mercy, we find ourselves welcomed and accepted, since Jesus is interceding on our behalf.
For many of us, this has not always been our experience of God. Do we feel as though we have to get all ourselves all cleaned up and dusted off before we can venture to have any conversation with God whatsoever? If this is the case, we need to reconsider our understanding of who Jesus Christ is, and who he is for us as the One who knows us so completely that he can judge the thoughts and intents of our hearts, while at the same time intercede for us with compassionate mercy and grace.
Do we understand that God created us to live a certain way—the way of other-centered, self-giving love—yet understands our frailty and weakness that seems to always betray us and keep us from walking in that way? We need to have both the humility to allow God to determine how we live our lives, but also the humility to trust in his mercy and grace when we don’t live that way. This is the position of rest God calls us to in Jesus Christ. This rest, which is ours in Jesus, is experienced as we trust in him and all he has done in our place and on our behalf. Apart from his gracious work, we cannot live in the truth of who we are as God’s children, in right relationship with God and each other. So, we put our faith in Jesus alone, allowing him to be who he is—our Lord and our Savior, and our High Priest.
Dear Father, thank you for sending your Son for our salvation and for giving us your Spirit. We acknowledge our sin and our need for Christ’s gracious intercession on our behalf. Thank you, Jesus, for always interceding for us, for enabling us to receive mercy and grace. Enable us to rest fully in you. Amen.
“For the word of God is living and active and sharper than any two-edged sword, and piercing as far as the division of soul and spirit, of both joints and marrow, and able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And there is no creature hidden from His sight, but all things are open and laid bare to the eyes of Him with whom we have to do. Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tempted in all things as we are, yet without sin. Therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.” Hebrews 4:12–16 NASB
“They were even more astonished and said to Him, ‘Then who can be saved?’ Looking at them, Jesus said, ‘With people it is impossible, but not with God; for all things are possible with God.’” Mark 10:17–31 NASB
[Printable copy: https://lifeinthetrinity.blog/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/olitthe-one-who-understands-998772047-e1727835220260.pdf ]
[More devotionals may be found at https://lifeinthetrinity.blog ]
[Subscribe to Our Life in the Trinity YouTube channel at https://www.youtube.com/@ourlifeinthetrinity ]
Fear or Faith
By Linda Rex
May 26, 2024—Holy Trinity | After Pentecost—One of the things I’ve noticed lately has been how often our decisions, our behavior, and our attitudes are governed by fear. Often, when I ask someone what they are afraid of, they completely deny that there is any fear involved at all. They deny that fear has anything to do with why they are acting a certain way or saying particular things, even though it is obvious to others that they are afraid.
In our New Testament reading for Holy Trinity Sunday, Romans 8:12–17, the apostle Paul points out the difference between slavery and sonship. He says that a spirit of slavery has its basis in fear, whereas, a spirit of sonship is based in love. What God has given us through Christ in the Spirit is a participation in the love of Father, Son, and Spirit. This means there is no reason for us to be afraid or to have a sense of fear in regards to God.
But often, the way in which we live our lives and make our decisions is rooted in fear. Because we do not know God well and trust him in every circumstance, we find ourselves immobilized, unable to courageously move forward. Or, we sense a thousand and one reasons why everything is going to go wrong or has gone awry, because we simply cannot believe that God is present, real, and loves us unconditionally, completely, and ceaselessly.
Our response as a result of fear rather than of faith often looks more like slavery than love. Indeed, when we are fearful, we tend to gravitate towards actions and words that will give us a feeling of control or mastery in the situation. We create rules or expectations or standards by which we measure our standing. We assess whether or not we are safe or are okay in our relationships with God or others. When taken to its worst end, fear blinds us to the reality of God’s love and grace, preventing us from living and walking in the truth of who we are as God’s beloved children. Indeed, fear often drives our responses, and its ultimate affect is destructive and unhealthy for us, creating division, pain, death, and isolation in our relationships. And this is not God’s desire for us.
If we sense fear within ourselves or realize that our decisions and how we are responding to situations is being driven by fear, we need to reconsider where we stand in relation to our Triune God. It takes a measure of humility and self-awareness to admit that perhaps we are driven by fear rather than living out of a heart filled with the love of God in Christ by the Spirit. Are we willing to admit that we are responding out of fear rather than simply trusting in our loving, gracious God?
How well do we know our God who is Father, Son, and Spirit? It is our God who is love, living in our hearts, who drives out the fear which seeks to take up residence within. In our life today, our hearts may be given over to fear or given over to love—we have both at work in our human flesh right now. But the apostle Paul says that we have no obligation to live in fear or to allow fear to be the driving force within. One day fear will be removed forever, but meanwhile, suffering will occur and fear will challenge our trust in our Triune God.
Indeed, we are new creations. We have been given God’s Spirit, the presence of God living in us, filling us with his love. We have no obligation to the deeds of death. Rather, we are bound by the Spirit to live and walk in love, for this is the truth of who we are as image-bearers of Christ. It is Jesus’ life in us by the Spirit which motivates us. God’s love poured out on and in us in the Spirit pours out from us to those around us. In this place of divine love and grace, there is no room left for fear. This is why we turn to Jesus, and open ourselves to the Holy Spirit. God’s perfect love casts out our fear and gives us faith.
The Holy Spirit, given to us by Jesus from the Father, binds our hearts and our spirits with God, uniting us and making us one. In the Spirit, resonating within us, is the affection between the Father and the Son, as we hear within our heart Jesus’ own “Abba, Father.” In this safe place, held in God’s love and life, we are free from fear. We rest our head on the chest of our loving Father, and feel the loving arms of our Lord Jesus, and the kiss of the Spirit on our cheek. In the embrace of the holy Trinity, there is no room left for fear.
Dearest Father, Jesus, Spirit, thank you for wrapping us in your warm embrace of love and grace. Enable us to see and confess our fear, to turn towards you in faith, and to allow you to fill us with your perfect love. Grant us the grace to rest in your grace and love, through Jesus and by your Spirit. Amen.
“So then, brethren, we are under obligation, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh—for if you are living according to the flesh, you must die; but if by the Spirit you are putting to death the deeds of the body, you will live. For all who are being led by the Spirit of God, these are sons of God. For you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons by which we cry out, ‘Abba! Father!’ The Spirit Himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, heirs also, heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with Him so that we may also be glorified with Him.” Romans 8:12–17 NASB
“We owe flesh nothing. In the light of all this, to now continue to live under the sinful influences of the senses, is to reinstate the dominion of spiritual death. Instead, we are indebted to now exhibit the highest expression of life inspired by the Spirit. This life demonstrates zero tolerance to the habits and sinful patterns of the flesh. The original life of the Father revealed in his Son is the life the Spirit now conducts within us. Slavery is such a poor substitute for sonship. They are opposites; the one leads forcefully through fear while sonship responds fondly to Abba Father. We are not slaves to a cruel taskmaster but gifted with the spirit of sonship; engaging the tender affection of Papa without any reserve. Holy Spirit personally entwines our spirit; resonating ceaselessly within, endorsing Abba’s parenthood. The fact that we are God’s offspring, certainly also means that we are equal heirs of God. Not only is God our portion, but we are his. We are co-heirs in Christ. So, whatever we may suffer, at any time could separate us from our inclusion in his sufferings. Thus, every reminder of this mystery, also reinforces the fact that we have been made equal participants in the glory of his resurrection.” Romans 8:12–17 Mirror Bible
[Printable copy: https://lifeinthetrinity.blog/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/olitfear-or-faith.pdf ]
[More devotionals may be found at https://lifeinthetrinity.blog ]
[Subscribe to Our Life in the Trinity YouTube channel at https://www.youtube.com/@ourlifeinthetrinity ]
In View of Suffering
by Linda Rex
September 24, 2023, Proper 20 | After Pentecost—I was thinking the other day about the story of Esau, who sold his birthright for a bowl of lentil soup. It always seemed extreme to me that Esau would trade in his future for the sake of a full stomach, even though know that when person is genuinely starving, any price would be one worth paying to have a morsel of food.
In the Old Testament reading for this Sunday the ancient Israelites complained because they didn’t have anything to eat. They told Moses and Aaron that they would have rather gone back into slavery in Egypt where they could have meat, than to continue to suffer. It seems that the nation did not know God very well, or they would have known that the last thing God would have wanted them to do would be to die in the wilderness—all they needed to do was ask him for what they needed rather than complaining and getting mad at Moses (Exodus 16:2–15).
It’s easy to point the finger at these people, but if we are honest with ourselves, we are a lot like them. How often do we, when things get difficult or painful, begin believing that God isn’t good, that he doesn’t care, and that we’d be better off slaves than to have to continue to suffer? How many times have we, instead of seeing our dear Father as the One we turn to when we are in distress, make him or others our scapegoat and the recipient of our complaints and abuse? Or perhaps we sit off in our dark corner muttering in self-pity and grief, believing that we are forsaken and unloved?
Another way we fall into this unhealthy way of thinking and acting is when we bear heavy burdens for a long period of time for the sake of Christ without allowing ourselves to find respite and renewal in healthy ways. Our bodies and minds were not created to endlessly bear up under constant stress and turmoil. The rhythms of our life were meant to include rest and refreshment on a regular basis, as well as seasons of fruitful and productive labor. When we violate this principle, we end up in a place of suffering we weren’t meant to bear.
In the gospel passage for this Sunday, Jesus tells a parable about a landowner who hires workers at different times of the day to work in his vineyard. He told each person he would pay them a day’s wage for their effort. But at the end of the day, when he began to pay them, he started with those who had only worked a couple of hours. When he gave them a day’s wage, the people who had worked hard all day long expected a bigger paycheck. But all they got when the time came was the same day’s wage that the others had received. Those who had worked all day long were quite upset, having thought that they might receive more for all the effort they had put in.
Jesus ended his parable with the landowner saying, “Why are you criticizing me for being generous? Can’t I do what I want with what is mine?” The people he was talking to needed to be reminded of who God was—the God who loved and cared for his creation so much that he was present with them right then in that moment as God in human flesh, who was going to lay down his life on their behalf. God was willing to go to that extreme to provide all of us with what we needed most—redemption, restoration, and renewal. Jesus closed his conversation with the reminder of what he was facing—that he would be giving himself up to be crucified and would rise again the third day for the sake of all (Matthew 20:1-16).
In Philippians 1:21–30, the apostle Paul shared that he was torn between two strong pulls—to go and be at home with his Lord or to stay and continue to care for the body of Christ. Paul was facing death at the hands of Rome, and knew that apart from the grace of God, he would no longer be able to care for his spiritual brothers and sisters. For Paul, having to suffer for the sake of Jesus Christ was a privilege, not something to complain about. Paul was willing to go all the way into death, in order that others might hear and respond to the good news. Paul held tightly to the truth of who God was. In his mind, no doubt, was God’s own description of himself rehearsed by the psalmists of his people, “The LORD is gracious and merciful; slow to anger and great in lovingkindness” (Psalm 145:8). Unlike Jonah, who objected to God showing compassion for the non-Jews, Paul sought the redemption and salvation of all, and resonated with the loving heart of our Father, even to the point of laying down his life.
It was in this place of self-offering Paul encouraged the believers to stand firm in their unity in Christ. He reminded them that suffering and opposition were part of the package, but that they would continue to grow up in Christ as they labored together in one spirit to share the good news of salvation. By the Spirit, they were reminded of who God was—the One who was and would be with them unto the end. We can find great encouragement in these words today. For whatever we may endure for the sake of the gospel and our Lord Jesus Christ, our benefit is life eternal, in blessed union and communion with God and one another, now and forever.
Heavenly Father, forgive our stubborn insistence that we are forsaken, unloved, and forgotten. You are always compassionate, merciful, slow to anger, and full of lovingkindness. Grant us the grace to suffer for your name’s sake, no matter the cost to ourselves. Grant us also the grace to care for ourselves, to find rest and renewal in you, so we can continue the journey, through Jesus and by your Spirit. Amen.
“For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. But if I am to live on in the flesh, this will mean fruitful labor for me; and I do not know which to choose. But I am hard-pressed from both directions, having the desire to depart and be with Christ, for that is very much better; yet to remain on in the flesh is more necessary for your sake. Convinced of this, I know that I will remain and continue with you all for your progress and joy in the faith, so that your proud confidence in me may abound in Christ Jesus through my coming to you again. Only conduct yourselves in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that whether I come and see you or remain absent, I will hear of you that you are standing firm in one spirit, with one mind striving together for the faith of the gospel; in no way alarmed by your opponents—which is a sign of destruction for them, but of salvation for you, and that too, from God. For to you it has been granted for Christ’s sake, not only to believe in Him, but also to suffer for His sake, experiencing the same conflict which you saw in me, and now hear to be in me.” Philippians 1:21–30 NASB
[Printable copy: https://lifeinthetrinity.blog/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/olitin-view-of-suffering.pdf ]
[More devotionals may be found at https://lifeinthetrinity.blog ]
[Subscribe to Our Life in the Trinity YouTube channel at https://www.youtube.com/@ourlifeinthetrinity ]
Our Inner Wrestling
by Linda Rex
July 9, 2023, Proper 9 | After Pentecost—One of the things I appreciate about the writings of the apostle Paul is his honesty regarding his own personal struggles in his walk of faith. Paul was frank about his previous persecution of those who followed Christ, and about his own weaknesses and frailties. He also humbly acknowledged the ways in which Christ lived in and worked through him, calling believers to follow him as he followed Christ.
In this Sunday’s New Testament reading, Romans 7:15–25a, Paul sums up his previous summation of the need for both Jews and Gentiles (non-Jews) to be rescued from sin. He shows that even though the Jewish people had been given the law, they were unable to keep it, because their hearts were not right before God. The non-Jews, who had some idea of right and wrong, also did not live in ways that acknowledged God and were equally as guilty before God. In the end, both groups of people (i.e. all of humanity) were headed towards death, with no hope of salvation—apart from Christ.
During his time here on earth, Jesus understood the desperate situation we as humans were in. He knew this is why he lived and would die, so that we would be freed from our enslavement to evil, sin, and death. Throughout his brief life here on earth, Jesus intentionally prepared for and walked the path to the cross, because he knew that the only solution to our desperate dilemma was his life, death and resurrection.
So, as God in human flesh, Jesus lived the life we needed to live but could not. He wrestled in each moment as we wrestle, being tempted in every way as we are tempted, but without sin. Jesus, within his one being, held the two sides of his divine person and human person together, burning away the sin which so easily besets us as human beings. He, by the Spirit and in perfect union and communion with his Father, actively forged within our human flesh a new nature—a new way of being.
In the gospel passage for this Sunday, Matthew 11:16–19, 25–30, Jesus pointed out how he and John the Baptiser were received by those who were exposed to their ministry. On the one hand, John was ridiculed and rejected because of his austerity and restraint while on the other, Jesus was ridiculed and rejected because of his warm reception of the despised and reject and his participation in their celebrations. Jesus’ ultimate word to all those who were caught in this crossfire was, “Come unto to me all you who are weary and I will give you rest”. He called to them to learn from him—that in him they would find rest for their souls.
I really appreciate Eugene Peterson’s paraphrase of vv. 25–30:
“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”
He shows that it is in our walk with Christ that we begin to learn how to truly live as image-bearers of God in Christ.
Looking at Jesus Christ, we see that our human experience will be of both our oneness with God in Christ and our human weakness and faultiness. Even though we have been born anew in Christ by the Spirit, we still wrestle with the evil, sin, and death that are a part of our human flesh right now. One day, when Jesus returns in glory, the truth of our existence—that which is hidden with Christ in God—will be revealed. Our true glory will be made evident, shining for all to see. But in the meantime, we are—as Paul puts it—earthen vessels, cracked vessels, which hold the glorious eternal treasure of God’s Spirit, Christ in us.
Jeff McSwain, in his book “Hidden in Contradiction” explains how we find within ourselves two sides, which are in contradiction, in the same person. In his placemat theology, he shows how these red and green parts of our person are interwoven—both are true at the same time. This does not in any way alter our relationship with God in Christ by the Spirit—Jesus has made that secure in his person. What Paul is explaining in Romans 7 is our inner human experience right now. We struggle, we wrestle. But our assurance is in Jesus’ finished work. He holds us in right relationship with God, and it is there we keep our attention and our focus.
Elsewhere Paul says that we do not wrestle against flesh and bones, but against principalities and powers in the heavenly places. This is a spiritual battle which is fought with spiritual weapons. The armor of God Paul describes in Ephesians 6:12–19 is essentially Jesus Christ himself. It is Christ’s life in us by the Spirit that is important here, and which already is triumphant. This is our hope and our joy. This is why Paul, in Romans 8:1, can joyfully exult, saying, “there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” What matters is not our ability to get it right, but Christ in us having already got it right, living that out in and through us by his Spirit. Thank the Lord!
Thank you, Father, for loving us so much, that you would give your Son to do this great work in our human flesh, forging for us a new human flesh to live eternally with you. Thank you, heavenly Spirit, for living in us and with us right now in the midst of evil, sin, and death, and working to transform, heal, renew, and restore. Grant us the grace to allow you full reign in our heart and lives, through Jesus our Lord. Amen.
“For what I am doing, I do not understand; for I am not practicing what I would like to do, but I am doing the very thing I hate. But if I do the very thing I do not want to do, I agree with the Law, confessing that the Law is good. So now, no longer am I the one doing it, but sin which dwells in me. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh; for the willing is present in me, but the doing of the good is not. For the good that I want, I do not do, but I practice the very evil that I do not want. But if I am doing the very thing I do not want, I am no longer the one doing it, but sin which dwells in me. I find then the principle that evil is present in me, the one who wants to do good. For I joyfully concur with the law of God in the inner man, but I see a different law in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin which is in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will set me free from the body of this death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” Romans 7:15–25a NASB
“This is how the sell-out to sin affects my life: I find myself doing things my conscience does not allow. My dilemma is that even though I sincerely desire to do that which is good, I don’t, and the things I despise, I do. It is obvious that my conscience sides with the law; which confirms then that it is not really I who do these things but sin manifesting its symptoms in me. (Sin is similar to a dormant virus that suddenly breaks out in very visible symptoms.) It has taken my body hostage. The total extent and ugliness of sin that inhabits me, reduced my life to good intentions that could not be followed through. Willpower has failed me; this is how embarrassing it is, the most diligent decision that I make to do good, disappoints; the very evil I try to avoid, is what I do. (If mere quality decisions could rescue mankind, the law would have been enough. Good intentions cannot save someone. The revelation of what happened to us in Christ’s death is what brings faith into motion to liberate from within. Faith is not a decision we make to give God a chance, faith is realizing our inclusion in what happened on the Cross and in the resurrection of Christ! See Rom 3:27.) If I do the things I do not want to do, then it is clear that I am no evil, but that I host sin in my body against my will. It has become a predictable principle; I desire to do well, but my mere desire cannot escape the evil presence that dictates my actions. The real person that I am on the inside delights in the law of God. (The law proves to be consistent with my inner make-up.) There is another law though, (foreign to my design), the law of sin, activating and enrolling the members of my body as weapons of war against the law of my mind. I am held captive like a prisoner of war in my own body. It doesn’t matter how I 1weigh myself I just do not measure up to expectations! the situation is absolutely desperate for humankind; is there anyone who can deliver them from this death trap? (The word 1talaipōros occurs only twice in the New Testament—Rom 7:24, Rev 3:17—and both times it is translated wretched!? it has two components, talanton, which is the word for a scale of balance; that which is weighed, a talent; and poros from peira, to test as in testing the weight of something.) Thank God, this is exactly what he has done through Jesus Christ our Leader; he has come to our rescue! I am finally freed from this conflict between the law of my mind and the law of sin in my body. (In the Incarnation, in a human body exactly like ours, Jesus balanced the scales! He is the true measure of the life of our design—he revealed and redeemed the image and likeness of God in us as in a mirror! See Rom 1:16, 17 and 3:24 and 27.)” Romans 7:15–25a Mirror Bible
[Printable copy: https://lifeinthetrinity.blog/wp-content/uploads/2023/06/olitour-inner-wrestling.pdf ]
[More devotionals may be found at https://lifeinthetrinity.blog ]
[Subscribe to Our Life in the Trinity YouTube channel at https://www.youtube.com/@ourlifeinthetrinity ]
The Lord Our Righteousness
By Linda Rex
November 28, 2021, ADVENT | Hope—The other day, my husband was telling me how during his myriad travels he came across a radio station in Florida playing Christmas music. Christmas music in October? Apparently, the station owners believed that all the negative press and bad news needed to be overcome with the good news found within the Christmas message, which brings hope, peace, joy and God’s love.
Indeed, we do well to attend to the spiritual realities which lie behind all the negative noise going on right now in the world around us. We can be overcome with sorrow, anger, and frustration due to the appearance of success that evil seems to be having. Or we can focus on the leaves bursting forth on the fig tree—there is new growth which will one day result in an abundant harvest of righteousness and goodness, to be celebrated forever in God’s loving presence.
The Old Testament is replete with warning to God’s people about what will happen should they wander away from their covenant relationship with God. Indeed, the apocalyptic language of such events strikes terror into us. None of us wish to personally experience the power of a tsunami or the destruction accompanying the alteration of the orbit of the heavenly bodies like the moon or sun.
What catastrophes might we personally dread? Have we ever thought about the consequences of how we live our lives day by day? Jesus says that no earthly catastrophe compares with the consequences of rejecting our one hope of salvation in him. So, he wants us to pay attention—to not take our relationship with God for granted, but to be actively involved in a life in sync with who we are as the beloved, forgiven, redeemed children of God.
I remember how for many years I agonized over whether or not I would qualify for the kingdom of God. Would I ever be good enough? Saints over the centuries have agonized over this question. How many of us have lived in this internal torment, longing for a mere morsel of hope that we will be included in the new life to come?
God gave his people a promise in Jeremiah 33:14-16 that one day a righteous son of David would come forth to execute justice and righteousness on the earth. When that day came Judah would be saved and Jerusalem would dwell in safety. God’s people would be known by this name, “the Lord our righteousness” (NKJV). The NIRT puts it this way, “The Lord Who Makes Us Right With Himself.”
The spiritual reality we need to grab hold of and rest in is that Jesus Christ is our right relationship with God, now and forever. Whatever we may do, whatever effort we put into it, is merely a participation in what Jesus has already done, is doing even now by his Spirit, and will do when he returns in glory. This is why, when the world begins to fill with catastrophes, we have no reason to fear or be afraid—we are already saved, are being saved, and will be saved—in Christ. By faith, we can lift our heads and look with hope and joy at the coming of our Lord in glory.
Truly, Jesus did warn us that it is easy to get distracted by the cares of this life and the pulls of our human flesh. We can learn a lot from those early Christian anchorites, who obeyed Jesus’ command to deny themselves, lay down their lives and follow Christ. They were willing to go to great lengths to forbid themselves the everyday blessings of life because they wanted more of Jesus. They were willing to humble themselves and receive the rejection of their peers and the world around them for the sake of doing what they believed Christ wanted them to do—seek him and him alone. Their eyes and minds and hearts were fixed on heaven, not on this earth and its pleasures and cares. There is much we can learn from them about self-denial and simple obedience to the Spirit.
Jesus and the early apostles called us to prayer—to acknowledging and acting on our dependency upon God in every situation of life. We pray for one another as well, offering up our support and encouragement as we face the difficulties and struggles of walking as believers in a world which opposes and rejects the person and way of Jesus. In prayer we call forth God’s presence and power in and through us—praying for God to increase his love in our hearts and lives, his holiness in our actions and motivations, and enabling us to experience by the Spirit the right relationship with God and man Jesus forged for us in his life, death, resurrection and ascension.
God calls us to alertness—to readiness—a focus on him and his work in us and in this world. We often make prayer about telling God what he needs to be doing. In reality, prayer needs to become a way in which we become present to what God is already doing, attentive to what he wants to do in us and in the world around us, and how we can be a part of that. Prayer, by necessity, needs to become listening to the heart of the Father, and an openness to doing his will in this world, whatever that may be.
Prayer in the Spirit actually begins with God, who shares his thoughts and desires with us by the Spirit, and moves us to pray about the things which are important to him, about those things that he is at work in this world doing right now. As we offer up our prayers in tune with the heart of the Father, Jesus takes them, perfects them, and offers them in the Spirit back to the Father, completing the circle of relationship in which we are included. It is a beautiful thing to pray in the Spirit—sharing in the inner life of the Trinity!
Our attentiveness to God, our posture of listening and receptivity, of participation in the divine life and love, is how we prepare for the cataclysmic end of the world Jesus warned us would be coming. There is no need to fear or be anxious in the midst of difficult or dangerous times, for we are, even now, included in the inner life of the Triune God of love. We are already sharing in that blessed hope which will be fully realized when Jesus returns in glory. By faith, we trust in the finished work of Christ, so there is nothing for us to fear when we see Jesus return again—we’re already active in what he is doing in this world, participating in God’s mission, communing with God, and knowing he is present in every moment. His return in glory is merely the next step in what we are doing with him as the ones for whom the Lord is our righteousness.
Thank you, dear Abba, for including us in your life and love through Jesus your Son and in the Spirit. Remind us constantly to turn our hearts and minds toward you, so that all of life is lived aware of you and your real and active presence. Prepare our hearts to receive you, Jesus, now and forever, by your grace. Amen.
“Now may our God and Father Himself and Jesus our Lord direct our way to you; and may the Lord cause you to increase and abound in love for one another, and for all people, just as we also do for you; so that He may establish your hearts without blame in holiness before our God and Father at the coming of our Lord Jesus with all His saints.” 1 Thessalonians 3:(9–10) 11–13 NASB
“But when these things begin to take place, straighten up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near. … Be on guard, so that your hearts will not be weighted down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of life, and that day will not come on you suddenly like a trap; for it will come upon all those who dwell on the face of all the earth. But keep on the alert at all times, praying that you may have strength to escape all these things that are about to take place, and to stand before the Son of Man.” Luke 21:28, 34–36 (25–36) NASB
A Humble Invitation to Rest
By Linda Rex
July 5, 2020, PROPER 9—When Jesus gave the invitation, “Come to me, … and I will give you rest,” he spoke out of a heart of humble gentleness, calling us into relationship with himself. He had just explained that the only way for any of us to come to know God was through his own relationship with his heavenly Father. It is within the context of this intimate relation between the Father and the Son that any of us are able to begin to know and relate to God in a personal way.
The people gathered at that moment around Jesus had spiritual leaders who taught them that relating to God was first and foremost an issue of right behavior based in the observance of the old covenant law. Seeking to observe all the details of the law correctly, the people labored under a heavy burden from which there seemed to be no relief. Keeping the law did not remove guilt and shame, nor did it help them to keep the law better. If anything, it caused even more distress and despair.
Jesus called for the people to come to him—into a relationship with him in which they were to find rest. We find the idea of rest, of coming into relationship, in several places in the old testament, some of which are part of the readings for this Sunday. I believe they can help us to understand a little of what Jesus is calling us into when he says, “Come to me…. and I will give you rest.”
In Genesis 24, we read the story of Abraham’s servant, who after he died went to seek a wife for Isaac among his relatives. Asking for God’s guidance, he requested a sign, that when he asked for water to drink, the right young lady would also offer to water his camels. When he encountered Rebekah at the well, he asked her for a drink, and immediately she offered to also draw water for his camels. Believing this was God’s answer to his prayer, he inquired as to her parentage. She brought him home to her family who turned out to be relatives of Abraham.
Now Rebekah had a difficult choice to make. She would have to leave her family, her ways of living, everything she was familiar with, to join this servant on a journey back to the Negev to marry Isaac, her betrothed. They asked her, “Will you go…?” I believe this is the question Jesus brings us to when we encounter him. Are we willing to go wherever he goes, to leave behind all that was, and to commit ourselves unreservedly to him, willing to be faithful and obedient to him until death?
This brings to mind the story of Ruth, another woman in the lineage of Jesus. Hers is a beautiful story of redemption. At one point, the widow Ruth is counseled by her mother-in-law Naomi, who tells the young woman, “… shall I not seek security for you, that it may be well with you” (Ruth 3:1b NASB)? The word for “security” is literally “rest”. Naomi’s wish for Ruth was that she would find real rest in the home of a husband who would care for her, provide for her, and protect her.
We find this same idea of marriage relationship within the Song of Solomon. In many ways it reflects the intimacy between Christ and his Bride, the church. In the passage for this Sunday, we read: “Listen! My beloved! Behold, he is coming, | Climbing on the mountains, | Leaping on the hills! … My beloved responded and said to me, | ‘Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, | And come along. … Arise, my darling, my beautiful one, | And come along’” (Song of Solomon 2:8, 10, 13b NASB)! We find the same idea of the woman being called away from her home and called into close relationship with the man she loves.
Psalm 45, another passage for this Sunday, is a lovely picture of a queenly bride being brought to her king to be made his wife. She is clothed in embroidered gold clothing, beautifully gowned and arrayed. She is told: “Listen, O daughter, give attention and incline your ear: | Forget your people and your father’s house; …. Because He is your Lord, bow down to Him” (Psalm 45:10-11 NASB). We find that the Bride of Christ is meant to leave all behind so we may share in the royal throne with Christ our King, for we are made kings and priests who will reign with Jesus in glory.
All of these pictures show us that there is a rest we are called to, but it is the kind of rest that has to do with resting in humble dependence upon our Lord and King Jesus Christ, who is our husband, our protector and provider. He is humble and gentle in heart and he offers us his tender care as a Shepherd for his sheep. It is within the context of his care and protection that we take on the yoke of obedience—being obedient to the law of the Spirit who dwells within us, transforming our hearts by faith. As Paul wrote in Galatians 2:20, “I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me” (NASB).
By faith we rest in the finished work of Christ, knowing that our redemption is complete and is being worked out in us by the Holy Spirit as we respond to his transforming and healing work. Yes, it is a struggle because our flesh seems to believe that sin is still in charge, but the truth is that evil, sin, and death are no longer our taskmasters. The reality is that in Christ we are free! We are free to love God, love our neighbor, live in wholehearted obedience to the voice of the Spirit as Christ lives in us. We are free to live in intimate relationship with the Father through Jesus in the Spirit. (Romans 7:15–25a)
Christ’s yoke is light and easy, for there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus! (Rom. 8:1) As we walk in the Spirit, we won’t walk in our old sinful ways. We rest in his perfect relationship with the Father, and participate with him in loving God and loving one another, sharing in his mission in this world. This makes the yoke of commitment to God in Christ an easy and light burden to bear. We share in Christ’s righteousness and as we yield to the inner workings of the Holy Spirit, we experience cleansing, renewal, healing, and growth in Christlikeness. We experience the reality of living as God’s adopted children held in his loving embrace both now and forever.
Perhaps this is a good time to pause and reflect on the precious gift Jesus is offering us. Hear Jesus asking you now, in this moment, “Come to me, … and I will give you rest.” What is standing in the way of you saying yes to him? What are you counting on to get you through instead of simply resting in him, in his love and grace? Perhaps now is a good time to leave all that behind, accept his rests, and join Jesus on his journey—I know he’d love to have you!
Jesus, thank you for including us in your life, death, and resurrection, for sending the Spirit from the Father so we could share in your intimate relationship with him. It can be scary to leave behind everything we are comfortable with and simply follow you. Help us to let go, to surrender ourselves to your love and grace, to simply rest in you. Thank you that all we do is a participation in what you have already done. We trust in you, in your perfect finished work. In your name we pray. Amen.
“Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion! Shout in triumph, O daughter of Jerusalem! Behold, your king is coming to you; | He is just and endowed with salvation, | Humble, and mounted on a donkey, | Even on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” Zechariah 9:9 NASB
“Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and ‘you will find rest for your souls.’ For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” Matthew 11:28-30 NASB
The Gift of Surrender
By Linda Rex
This morning I read an excellent devotional by Steve Arterburn called “Surrender or Fight”. In it, using the example of King Saul from the Old Testament, he pointed out how often we as humans are faced with the choice between surrendering our lives and wills to God or continuing to fight God’s plan for our lives.
King Saul was notorious for being a people-pleaser, who valued the opinion of the people more than he did his relationship with God. Rather than doing just as God asked, he did what would gain him the most approval from those whose opinions he valued. For this reason, King Saul failed as ruler of his people, and was eventually replaced by God with King David.
Surrendering to the will and purposes of God is one of the most difficult things for us as humans to do. At times it is really hard to accept what God permits in our world and allows to happen in our lives. This is especially true when it means the loss of something dear to us, such as a beloved family member or friend, or our reputation, or our comfortable way of life.
In many parts of America, being self-sufficient is an honored tradition. Dependency upon God is seen, not as a necessary part of our existence, but as a weakness or flaw. Acknowledging one’s dependency upon God may even be seen as unmanly or foolish. Truth is, in this country, a person could live their entire life without recognizing their need for or confessing a belief in God. Every need is fulfilled, and everything can be explained without introducing any thought of a higher power or a supreme being.
Believers in Christ can also fall prey to this way of thinking. We can go through our everyday lives with very little thought as to what God wants us to be doing or not doing. We have rules we can follow and laws we can obey. We have the expectations of our church and its members which we can work to fulfill. And we can be so busy doing all this, we miss God’s call to surrender completely to him. Instead of living in moment-by-moment humble, obedient, dependency upon God, we rely upon our own efforts and wisdom, and we work to please those around us.
This is an ongoing struggle. Relationships ebb and flow, and this is also true about our relationship with God. As human beings, we struggle to maintain any form of consistency about how we live our lives and handle our relationships. Maintaining a consistent and fruitful relationship with God, if left entirely up to us, would be an exercise in futility.
This is why we are called by Jesus to come to him and to find our rest in him. Jesus was fully surrendered to his Father, and yielded entirely to his Abba’s will even when it meant dying an ignoble, agonizing death. He wrestled with our humanity in the garden of Gethsemane, with tears and groans, begging on the one hand for another path to follow, but on the other, surrendering in humble obedience, saying, “…yet not as I will, but as You will” (Matt. 26:39b NASB).
The surrender God calls us to is a denial of self. As Oswald Chambers says in My Utmost for His Highest, “It is a question of being united with Jesus in His death until nothing ever appeals to you that did not appeal to Him.” This is a surrender of all our preconceived ideas of what it means to be a good person or even to be a Christian. Following Christ means he has the right to redefine who we are and how we live our lives.
Surrender means giving up our idols—those things we count on, or depend upon for our value and self-worth, our security and our sense of well-being. Surrender sometimes means releasing our hold on those we hold near and dear to our hearts. It can mean letting go of a toxic relationship, or setting free that loved one who is hovering near death. Surrender can also mean doing the difficult thing, like telling the truth in a difficult situation, or being willing to admit fault and ask for forgiveness.
But any surrender we attempt to do finds its roots in the wholehearted, complete surrender of Jesus Christ. We are called to rest in him, and participate fully in his communion with his Abba both now and forever. In some respects, surrender is a way of being—a frame of reference out of which we live our lives. Our decisions, day by day, are drawn out of this orientation of surrender to our Abba through Jesus in the Spirit.
In high school when talking of a particular war, one of my teachers liked to use the term “capitulation.” According to dictionary.com, to capitulate is to: 1) to surrender unconditionally or on stipulated terms, or 2) to give up resistance. God is calling each of us to capitulate, to surrender unconditionally to his perfect, loving will, and to give up our resistance to his Spirit at work in and with us and in our world.
Our capitulation, or unconditional surrender is our response to what God has done in Christ and is doing by the Spirit to bring our broken humanity into conformity with Christ’s perfected humanity. Our response, however feeble it may be, though, is swept up into Jesus’ perfect capitulation to his Father. This means we rest in Christ, in his perfect surrender or capitulation to his Abba’s will and purposes.
God brings us, at different times in our lives, to places of surrender. Circumstances in our lives, the evil Satan seeks to work in this world and in us, also create situations in which we are faced with the decision to either surrender to God’s will or to fight it. Growing in our intimate knowledge of God, learning to trust in his perfect love and grace as demonstrated to us in Jesus, enables us to capitulate. We rest in Christ and yield to the will and purposes of God, believing he will, in the end, take whatever is happening and work it for the best of all involved.
Thank you, Abba, that you are completely trustworthy and faithful. Thank you, Jesus, for fully surrendering to the will and purposes of your Father, and for including us in your perfect capitulation. Grant us, by your Spirit, a heart of surrender, and grant us the grace to rest fully in you, Jesus. Free us from our stubborn resistance to you, dear God, through Jesus our Lord and by your Spirit. Amen.
“Then he said to them all, “If anyone wants to become my follower, he must deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it. For what does it benefit a person if he gains the whole world but loses or forfeits himself?” Luke 9:23-25 NASB
Bound Together in Community
By Linda Rex
The door to my bedroom opened. In walked my daughter’s dog. She headed straight for the bed and jumped up on it. Rather than curling up at the foot of the bed as she often does, she curled up right next to me so her side was pushing against my body.
It seems my daughter’s dog understands better than we do sometimes the need for physical connectedness. She knows by instinct the need for relationship and belonging.
It is too bad we are often so busy pushing one another away or protecting our space, we end up alone and disconnected. We prefer our independence rather than understanding and living in the truth we are all interdependent. We cannot and should not live as separate satellites. This was not God’s intent when he created us.
I think it is interesting that when we pack ourselves together in big cities, people become more and more disconnected. We find ways to hide from each other and to protect ourselves from being harmed. We isolate ourselves and then wonder why we are lonely and depressed.
I was reading an online article this morning about these utopic wellness communities which are being created. They are places where people live together in natural and wholistic communities where their environment is kept as close to nature as possible, and in which people live together and interact together in a community life.
Unlike the inner city, such a community leaves room for people to interact with nature as well as with one another. There is space to just be out and free, rather than concerned about one’s safety and one’s belongings.
I first felt this sort of freedom when I moved to southeast Iowa many years ago. The place I moved to was out in the midst of rural Iowa where any city of any size was about half an hour to forty-five minutes away. Leaving the back door unlocked was the norm, and taking a walk in the woods was a normal daily occurrence when the weather was nice and one wasn’t working. Letting the kids roam at will in the outdoors was a just a part of everyday life.
I noticed a couple of things when I first moved there. The first and most immediate was a sense of relaxation, of rest. I was not in a constant state of subtle inner anxiety. I could just be. The self-protective angst of the big city was not necessary in the same way anymore.
The second thing I noticed and had a hard time getting my mind around, was how everyone knew everyone else. Relationships in a small community were the norm, not the exception. It seems if you didn’t open up and be friendly with your neighbors, that was more of a reason for talk than if you did.
The sense of community all of us long for is a precious commodity. Not all of us have the financial resources or the ability to move to some place which can be more conducive to such a way of life. But we can learn to live in community right where we are. We can learn to live in the rest and freedom of knowing we are included and held in God’s love and life.
In creating the Body of Christ, the Church, Jesus created a community where people who are sharing in God’s love and life are brought together into relationship. The work of the Spirit brings people to faith in Christ and binds them together in spiritual family. The Church then becomes a place of rest where people can grow in their relationship with God and one another, and can find themselves in a “safe” place. This is what the Body of Christ is meant to be for God’s people.
The Body of Christ is also meant to be a safe haven for those buffeted about by this world—a place where they can encounter the Lord Jesus Christ and experience a little bit of the kingdom of God on earth, and the love of God expressed in and through his people.
When someone enters the door of our fellowship hall or our chapel upstairs, they should feel as though they could come in and snuggle up against us, trusting we will not kick them out the door. This requires a lot of grace and understanding. It requires being able to set healthy limits on what we can do and can’t do as far as our behavior toward one another. The house of God is meant to be a place of order, of peace, and a place of worship—but also a place of welcoming, understanding, and grace.
In Christ, the kingdom of God was initiated here on earth. Over the centuries, the Church of Christ has taken on different forms and shapes. But the one identifying factor we can all cling to is that the Church is meant to be a reflection of the very nature and being of Jesus Christ himself. The Church is his hands and feet in a dark world. The Church is a place of hospitality and welcoming when all other doors are shut.
The Church is never meant to be a place of hurtfulness, abuse, or rejection. It is never meant to be a place of separation, cliques, or snobbery. When we find ourselves treating people in these ways, it is time for us to rethink who we are. As God’s children, made in his image, we all gather at the table to share the abundance of his goodness and love. May we never forget the blessings and benefits of sharing in his divine community, and let us never fail to share them with others.
Lord, I thank you for all you have done and all you are doing now, and all you will do, to bring us together into one body in Christ by your spirit. Open our hearts to the truth of our inclusion in your community of faith. Grant us repentance and a change in our way of living so we will begin to experience and live in the truth of how you created us to be as your children. Do continue to work to tear down the walls between us and to create places of community, peace and unity in our world, through Jesus Christ our Lord and by your Spirit. Amen.
“A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another, even as I have loved you, that you also love one another. By this all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.” John 13:34-35 NASB
Breathing and Being
By Linda Rex
A cedar tree stands in the yard behind my neighbor’s house. Its dark green pungent branches droop a little and sway gently in the breeze. Every day that tree stands in the same place, allowing the wind to blow its boughs back and forth. The tree never seems to tire of its simple task of just being present, breathing in the carbon dioxide and breathing out the oxygen we need to survive.
In fact, as I sit here in my flimsy patio chair, the tree doesn’t seem to express any anxiety or concern about whether or not it’s doing a good job, or if it’s producing enough oxygen each day. Granted, its ability to grow to its full height and expand to its full breadth has been limited by the neighboring deciduous trees. But this doesn’t hinder the cedar from just being what it is—a cedar tree—and from doing the one simple thing it was created for—being a living, breathing contributor to the well-being of the planet, a genuine participant in God’s gracious daily provision for his living creatures.
The cedar tree seems oblivious to my neighbor talking to her plants and her spouse. It seems indifferent to my gaze as I stare and it and wonder which side of the fence it is located on. It just continues to be who it is, day in and day out, rain or shine.
I am a little jealous of the cedar tree. It doesn’t have to worry about whether it can pay the bills this month, or whether the car tires will hold out for another month or two. The tree doesn’t really have any concerns, for it doesn’t have a memory of the past, nor does it have any concept of its future. It doesn’t even know it could be cut down tomorrow—that’s not even on its radar. It’s just living right now, being who it is, doing what it’s doing in this particular moment.
The tree has this incredible capacity to just rest in Jesus. Its existence is totally dependent upon the God who made it and who supplies its daily soil, water, air, and light. And that’s okay. That’s all it needs. It doesn’t need or even know to ask for anything more.
It does me good to slow down to the pace of the cedar tree, and to silence my mind of all the myriad thoughts and concerns which consume my inner world. How hard can it be to take an hour and just be? What’s it like to just rest in the One who made me and redeems me, and to let that resting be enough in and of itself?
Five seconds into my time of silence I find this concern and that issue popping up in my thoughts. “Okay, Lord,” I think, “I’ll give these things to you for a bit. I can deal with them later.” And I can be silent again. But it’s a wrestling match with my inner self.
Silence as a spiritual discipline, as coming into God’s presence and opening ourselves up to his Spirit’s inner work, can be a real challenge for us. We often find reasons to stay too busy to stop and be silent. We know that to do so would be to open ourselves up to the possibility of having to deal with our problems, losses, or our faults. Quieting ourselves in the presence of the Living Lord may mean we have to stop running away from ourselves and the harm we have done or are doing to ourselves or others.
Yet, silence as a spiritual discipline is a real opportunity to be filled with presence and power of God in a new way. It creates an inner space for the Spirit to enable us to listen to our Abba’s heart, and the Word of Life speaking in our hearts. When we are quiet before God, that inner voice of the Spirit grows louder and our assurance of our Abba’s love grows stronger.
It seems foolish to pause in the midst of our busy schedule to just sit and be in the presence of God. And yet, I have found this is the best possible use we could make of our time. In having done so, we find a greater inner strength, a clearer vision and insight we would not have otherwise. We pause to take a deep breath of the Spirit, and in breathing out, we find ourselves participating more fully in God’s life and love.
Perhaps we are more like the cedar tree than we realize. Yes, God has gifted us and given us many opportunities and abilities the cedar tree does not have. After all, we do reflect the being of God himself. But we are still here as participants in God’s story—sharing in his care of this world and everything in it. We each have a place in his life where all he asks of us is just to be who we are—his beloved and redeemed children.
Acknowledging the simplicity of our existence as God’s beloved and redeemed children, participants in his life and love, means we can rest. We can trust God to hold all things together by the Word of his power, to care for each and every living creature. Our failures as humans do not prevent God from accomplishing anything he has intended from the beginning.
Yes, we cause harm to each other and to this world. We fail to care for what we’ve been given. But none of that prevents God from loving us and drawing us to himself through Christ and in the Spirit. Nothing we can say or do is sufficient to stand in God’s way. Jesus’ prayer stands forever hung in the air: “Your kingdom come. Your will be done.” And he did what was necessary in his life, death, resurrection, and ascension so we can be assured of the outcome—a new heavens and earth and perfected humanity in which righteousness dwells.
We can for a moment have a deeper grasp of this spiritual reality when we pause in the midst of our existence and just be in the presence of the One who made us and sustains us, and breath in deeply the living Spirit—our Breath of Life. As we are silent and present in the moment, drinking in the living Presence of God himself, we can taste just for moment the blessing of the cedar tree—our eternal rest in Christ who is our Life and our real existence in this broken world. In him we have our being—our peace, hope, and joy—our past, present, and future, for he holds all things in his hands.
So, pause for few moments, and take in a deep breath of Divine Air. Lean back, resting in the Everlasting Arms. For Abba is holding you, and singing over you his songs of joy and love. Listen carefully, and you just might hear him singing…
Abba, thank you for your love, for your gift of your Son and your Spirit. Thank you for holding us and caring for us, whether we realize it or not. Grant us the grace to rest in you and in your perfect love, Enable us to just be, as we are always and forever yours, your beloved and redeemed children, through Jesus our Lord. Amen.
“The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.” Zephaniah 3:17 ESV
The Inward Movement Toward Rest
Yesterday I tried to reach someone at business by phone, but was put on hold. I waited and waited for someone to take me off of hold and to answer what I thought was an important question, but they took a very long time to respond. As I tried to wait patiently, I listened reluctantly to the voice on the line telling me all the positive attributes of the organization and why I should be doing business with them rather than with someone else.
There were a lot of good things said by the recording I was hearing, but after waiting on the line for quite literally an hour, all I really heard was their indifference to their customers. In fact, every couple minutes they would remind me someone would be with me “shortly”. I remarked to my daughter, who was tempering my impatience with reminders to be calm, that apparently their definition of “shortly” was a lot different than my definition of “shortly”.
After another phone call put in a little later during which I was hung up on and then called back and apologized to, I finally got the answer I needed. And I didn’t even think to mention my concern about their definition of “shortly”. I was just happy to have my concerns taken care of.
However, today when I got put on hold with another company, after about 10 minutes of waiting for tech support, I was beginning to wonder about what the word “momentarily” was supposed to mean. The recording told me someone would be with me “momentarily”. I thought “momentarily” meant in just a moment something would happen. I’m beginning to see that I might need to adjust my use of the English language to fit a culture where time has become very relative for some people.
But then again, maybe the problem isn’t with them, but rather with my inner need to have what I want done, done right now and at my convenience rather than theirs. Maybe what needs to change is my view of time and what is really most important in each moment. For me it is the task at hand. But for God, I’m beginning to believe it is instead the relationship I am encountering in that moment.
When I slow down enough to create space in a circumstance for Christ to enter in by the Spirit, I find the capacity to be patient when I have no reason to be patient, and to be gracious when I have every reason to be frustrated and angry. I’ve noticed lately I need to pay closer attention to my response to the situation in which I find myself, and to detach enough I am no longer reacting but am being proactive instead.
I first learned about dealing with inter-relational issues proactively when my children were little and they knew just how to push my buttons. I learned the time to deal with a problem behavior was not after it had occurred and my temper was hot, but before it ever occurred.
Being proactive meant I set a healthy, safe boundary and let them know ahead of time what it was, why it was in place and what the consequence would be for choosing to violate it. And when they pushed the boundary, the consequence was immediate though compassionate and gracious. In this way they could not blame anyone but themselves for having brought the unpleasant result upon themselves by their behavior.
Handling such issues in that order saved all of us from a lot of anger, yelling, and other unhealthy ways of dealing with the problem. And the result was healthier and more pleasant relationships, I believe, and a greater sense of security in my children. They didn’t have to guess at how I was going to respond, nor could they manipulate me into responding the way they wanted me to in order to get their way.
And a lot of times it only took one or two times standing my ground on important issues in this way, and it ceased to be an issue. They just needed to know what it meant to be a part of the family with regards to that particular issue, whatever it was—honoring bedtime rules and being honest and caring with others, for example.
Now at this late juncture in my life I am learning I need to treat myself in the same way—proactively rather than reactively. It works so much better when I plan ahead of time what my response is going to be in a difficult situation instead of allowing it to cause me to be upset, frustrated and angry.
When I make a phone call expecting to be answered immediately, I am put out when I have to sit on hold for an hour before getting the information I need. I could have hung up and called back, but I still would have been on hold. The issue isn’t with the phone call, but with my expectations and my response—I am reacting to the situation, not proactively following the way of love. I am allowing the circumstance, the person on the other line, the poor customer service, to define me and how I am going to respond.
But what really defines me is not that phone call. Nor is it the person who answers or doesn’t answer. What defines me is the Who in whose image I was made. It is the love of God in Christ which I am filled with, led by, and surrounded by. I, and every other person, am made in the image of God Who is love, and Who created us to love and be loved.
So proactively, I respond to this irritating life situation with the love of God in Christ—making space for Jesus to rest between me and the other person I am interacting with. If I just react instead, there is an immediate response directly to the person and to the situation, which leaves very little room for the Spirit to work. God is a whole lot more concerned about us loving him and loving others than he is about us getting our way in one particular instance in our lives. So we need to proactively create space for the Spirit, to allow the Spirit to go to work in every situation.
My daughter and I were talking about the phone call yesterday, and I was reminded again that stress is never the issue—stress does and will happen. It is our response to the stress which happens in our lives which can be the issue rather than the stress itself. Do we make space for God to work? Do we rest in him and seek to build the relationships of love in our lives, or are we merely focused on the task at hand?
How we respond to and deal with stress impacts our mental, emotional and physical health, as well as our spiritual health. I can see I have a new way to put what I have learned into practice in my relationships with God and others by proactively living in love with those who can be and are irritating, thoughtless or indifferent.
I will face challenges to my self-control and my patience and peace of mind, just as everyone else does. But Christ has already provided what is needed in these situations and he lives in you and me by his Spirit. As we invite him into these situations, and slow down in the moment and realize what is most important to him—living in love—we will find the capacity to create space for the Spirit and the ability to be patient, gracious and understanding instead of frustrated, irritated and angry. It is the work he is doing in us and in our lives, and by making room for him to work, we participate with him in the process.
Lord, thank you for your faithful love and grace, and for living in love in us, with us and for us. May we open space up in all our relationships and encounters in daily life for you to do your perfect work, so we may all grow up into the fullness of Christ. In your Name we pray. Amen.
“Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children; and walk in love, just as Christ also loved you and gave Himself up for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God as a fragrant aroma.” Ephesians 5:1–2
