silence

Who Will Go For Us?

Posted on Updated on

By Linda Rex

May 30, 2021, HOLY TRINITY—As I was reading one of the passages for this Sunday, it brought to mind a hymn I found years ago in an old hymnal. I was attending a congregation in Kirksville, Missouri at the time, and I felt led to sing this hymn for services. What I found as I was singing it was that it resonated with God’s call upon my heart for ministry, one which, at that point, I was still trying to come to terms with.

In Isaiah 6, the prophet tells the story of how he saw the Lord high and lifted up, on a throne covered by seraphim—angels having six wings. One of these angels cried out, “Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of hosts, the whole earth is full of his glory.” Isaiah was overcome with fear and distress because in that moment of coming into the presence of God, he saw the reality of his sin and uncleanness. There was nothing he could do to make himself worthy in that moment, which is why we see one of the seraphim touching his mouth with a coal from the altar, telling him his sin was taken away and he was forgiven. In that moment, the Lord asked, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?” Isaiah’s response is the one we are all called to when we receive the grace of God—to go and testify (Isaiah 6:1–8).

This whole story resonated with what our fellowship and denomination were wrestling with at that time—the grace of God expressed to us in Jesus and what that meant for us as the people of God. The hymn I was led to sing so many years ago was based on this text in Isaiah 6:

Here I Am, Lord
Music and Text by Daniel L. Schutte
Celebration Hymnal, Copyright 1997 Word/Integrity

I, the Lord of sea and sky
I have heard My people cry.
All who dwell in deepest sin
My hand will save.
I who made the stars of night,
I will make their darkness bright.
Who will bear My light to them?
Whom shall I send?

I, the Lord of snow and rain,
I have borne My people’s pain.
I have wept for love of them,
They turn away.
I will break their hearts of stone,
Give them hearts for love alone.
I will speak My word to them.
Whom shall I send?

I, the Lord of wind and flame,
I will tend the poor and lame.
I will set a feast for them,
My hand will save.
Finest bread I will provide
Till their hearts be satisfied.
I will give My life to them.
Whom shall I send?

(Refrain)
Here I am, Lord
Is it I, Lord?
I have heard you calling in the night.
I will go, Lord,
If You lead me.
I will hold Your people in my heart.

Do you hear the way this hymn resonates with the heart of Jesus? He was sent by the Father in love for our sakes, to cleanse us and make possible our union and communion with God now and forever. The One through whom all things were created has invited each of us to join with him in sharing this wonderful news of how he is feeding us with himself, giving us his life, breaking our hearts of stone and giving us hearts for love alone, having brought us from the kingdom of darkness into his kingdom of light. We are invited to participate in what Jesus Christ is doing in this world to make all things new. How well are we heeding his call?

I wonder if perhaps the struggle the church is having today with sharing the gospel is that we are focused on our activities and our programs and even the correctness of our theology to the exclusion of simply gazing upon the majestic and glorious splendor of our God—the One who lives forever as Father, Son, and Spirit in holy oneness and love. Perhaps, as we contemplate the wonder of who God is, who Christ is as our Lord and Savior, and who the Spirit is as the love between the Father and the Son, we might come to that place of humility and dependency the prophet Isaiah was brought to, and find ourselves once again receiving with gratitude the gracious gift of life in union and communion with God, and offering ourselves up in service to him and others.

Jesus said that we cannot enter into the kingdom of God unless we are born from above. This is a birth that is only possible by the Spirit of God. Because of what Christ has done in his incarnation, crucifixion and ascension, God has brought our human flesh into a new place—one that is ours through faith in Christ. Because Jesus has cleansed us from our sin and has defeated Satan and death, we are able to stand before God without condemnation. He looks upon us and sees his beloved adopted children who are growing up into Christlikeness as we respond to the Spirit’s work in our hearts and lives and trust in the finished work of Christ. (Romans 8:12–17)

The coal which the seraphim took from the altar and pressed upon Isaiah’s lips brought about a cleansing that the prophet had no real participation in except to receive it. All human effort was futile in the presence of the beauty and majesty of God. In the same way today, we find that our efforts to make ourselves right with God or to do his work do not accomplish much accept to wear us out and frustrate ourselves. When we trust in Christ and in his finished work, we rest and find our peace in him. When we are filled with the Spirit and moving in sync with him, we find joy and hope in our service to God and others.

Because of Christ we find ourselves in a new place—at home with Jesus in the presence of the Father, with the Spirit telling us we are the beloved children of God. We find we have been adopted as God’s children, so by the Spirit our hearts cry out, “Abba, Father.” We are no longer enslaved by the things we used to give ourselves over to—we have true freedom in Christ, being free now to live in the truth of who we are as the beloved children of God as his image-bearers, loving the Lord and loving one another.

It’s possible that God wants to do a new thing in and through the body of Christ. How will we know if we blindly continue on doing what we’ve always done, believing it’s the only thing “that works” instead of making space for the Spirit to do that new thing he desires? It is important to persevere and endure, but it is equally important to be attentive as a good child to the arrival of the Lord at any moment, ready to do what he wants done, undistracted and unhindered by all of those things which pull us away from what really matters. Are we okay with God showing up unexpectedly and leading us out of our comfort zone into new ways of serving him, of showing his love to others? This is a question worth considering.

We have a call upon our hearts and lives. Perhaps the reason we don’t keenly feel this call on our hearts and lives is we haven’t been listening. Slowing down, practicing solitude, silence and stillness are all ways in which we listen to God. Taking time to read the Scriptures, but then to let them settle in our hearts and minds, to move us to prayer, to lead us into meditation and listening for the heart of God—these are all ways we are attentive to the heart and mind of God, and what he is doing in this world. God is sending us out on mission. How will we answer?

Holy Father, Holy Jesus, Holy Spirit—we celebrate you in all your glory and majesty. Thank you for washing away all our guilt and shame and making us new. Tune our hearts and minds into yours, settling us solidly into the grace and love, and sonship, which is ours because of all you have done. We offer ourselves fully to you to do whatever you desire: Here we are, Lord. Send us. Amen.

“Jesus answered, ‘Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit he cannot enter into the kingdom of God. That which is born of the flesh is flesh, and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be amazed that I said to you, “You must be born again.” The wind blows where it wishes and you hear the sound of it, but do not know where it comes from and where it is going; so is everyone who is born of the Spirit.’”      John 3:5-8 (1-17) NASB

Seeking Solitude with Jesus

Posted on

By Linda Rex

February 7, 2021, 5th SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY—One of the things I have missed most since moving into metro Nashville has been the ability to walk out my door and simply find solitude where I felt safe to be by myself in nature. Although there are many greenways in the city where we can go walking or cycling, it is not the same as having a few acres of woods where one can wander about and simply experience the relative silence of the outdoors.

Even out in the country where I used to live there would not be genuine silence, since one could still hear the cars passing on a highway half a mile away or on the gravel road where we used to live. But it was possible to walk out our door and into the woods, and there encounter face to face a whitetail buck or doe as they were out on a browsing expedition looking for a meal. I could find wildflowers in the spring, blackberries in the summer, and in the rippling brook, a number of creatures simply being who they were created to be, reminding me of what really matters in life.

When I would walk in the hills or woods out in the country, I would find there a sense of the imminent yet transcendent presence of God. Sitting on a hill watching and hearing the wind blow through the blades of tall grass and wildflowers reminded me of the wind of the Spirit as Jesus described it to Nicodemus—we don’t know where it comes from or where it’s going, but we can see the wind’s affect. Looking up at the dark sky at night, the stars filled the expanse overhead. The Milky Way was quite evident and made even more impressive the psalmist’s praise that the God who set the stars in the heavens calls each one by name (Is. 40:26; Ps. 147:4).

Caught in the daily routine of life in the city, we can lose sight of the magnitude and glory of the creation God made and so simply cease to have a sense of our place in the midst of the universe as his beloved. And we can be so preoccupied with our responsibilities, our activities, and even our entertainments that we never stop to reflect or examine the state of our hearts and minds. Are we so busy that we do not have time in our daily life for solitude and silence—a place where we can receive God’s refreshment and renewal, and be reminded of who he is and who we are as his beloved?

In the gospel reading for this Sunday, we find Jesus going to synagogue with the disciples on the Sabbath and then returning to Peter’s home afterward. There they find Peter’s mother-in-law sick with a fever. Even though the rabbis taught that healing was not to be done on the Sabbath, Jesus went to the woman, took her by the hand, and healed her. Her response was what our response should be to the Messiah’s healing touch—a dedication to the service of God and others. She got up and began to tend to their needs.

One might think that Jesus, as God in human flesh, shouldn’t have had any needs. But in reality, he was fully human, so he grew hungry and weary just like every other person. In this story, as evening after the Sabbath approached, the entire city came to the door of Peter’s home, bringing all their sick and demon-possessed. Mark says that Jesus healed many of them and cast out many demons. He was in his element as the Messiah, but not without a cost to his physical, mental, and emotional well-being. Those doing ministry with Jesus in a wide variety of occupations know how we can grow tired and need moments of refreshment after tending to the spiritual, mental, emotional as well as physical needs of others—it is hard work.

This is why we see Jesus seeking solitude and silence the next day—he sought freedom from the everyday business of the city life of Caperneum. He made the effort to get up long before anyone else was up, even the field workers who rose at dawn, in order to have time along with his heavenly Father. He sought time away in order to regroup, to reflect, to be renewed in the presence of his Abba, so that he might be filled anew with the Spirit’s power and presence, and have the strength to face what he knew would be his next challenge—saying no to the temptation to stay and build a following there in Caperneum.

After a while, the disciples, including Peter, sought him out. They were concerned that perhaps Jesus had left without them. Peter, when he found the Messiah, told him that everyone was looking for him. Jesus’ response was that they would leave Caperneum and travel to the various villages in the region, sharing the gospel or good news of the kingdom of God. His time alone with the Father had renewed his strength and his focus on what really mattered—preaching the gospel to many people in the area—and he was ready to go and do it.

We can grow weary in serving others, in doing good, in sharing the good news, and in living out the gospel in the midst of a world that ignores or rejects the things of the Spirit. The prophet Isaiah reminds us that God never grows weary or tired even when we do. When we wait on the Lord, spending time alone with him in solitude and silence, in times of rest and listening, where we aren’t working on something or trying to do something but are simply being present to God, we will find new inner strength and spiritual resources to deal with the difficulties of everyday life (Is. 40: 28–31).

This time of the pandemic and the disruption of our daily rhythms has provided a perfect opportunity to begin to be more intentional about building into our lives times of renewal, refreshment, and reflection. We have the opportunity to begin to practice healthier ways of living and being which include daily times for solitude and silence, or simply for listening to God. We can create space for daily moments of feeding our souls as well as our bodies, by reading inspirational writings or our bibles, and allowing what we read to sink into our beings, renewing and refreshing us.

True spirituality is relationship—an intimate relationship with the God who knows us completely, who calls us by name, and who gives us himself in Jesus Christ and in the gift of the Spirit. It is difficult to build a relationship with someone with whom you do not spend any significant amount of time. Our relationship with God, though, is the source of our inner strength and well-being. We find the capacity to deal with things that are overwhelming, traumatic, or catastrophic by drawing on an infinite Source beyond ourself of strength, courage, faith, and endurance. Intentionally nurturing that relationship only makes sense, and can be the basis for a healthier way of being as we move on into this new decade of 2021.

Dear Abba, Father God, we come to you in gratitude for your love and faithfulness to us. Thank you for the gifts of your Son and your Spirit. Draw us close, renew and refresh us. Remind us again that we are your beloved, accepted and forgiven, through Jesus our Lord. Amen.

“In the early morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house, and went away to a secluded place, and was praying there.” Mark 1:35 NASB; see also Mark 1:29–39.

Called by Name, We Follow

Posted on

By Linda Rex

May 3, 2020, 4th SUNDAY OF EASTER—As I recently looked at how well we as a community, a state, a nation, and a world are coping with COVID-19, I was reminded anew that all this COVID-19 data are not just numbers on somebody’s spreadsheet. They are actual people and families and businesses which are being impacted by what is happening right now. These people have names, relatives, jobs (or at least they used to), and are doing their best to deal with those concerns which weigh heavily on them in this moment—illness, death, job loss, financial stress, or being separated physically from those they love.

How we deal with the particular stresses we are facing right now individually and as a nation depends primarily, I believe, on our perspective—the lens through which we view all these events. In a culture in which there is such a strong emphasis on our ability, even our responsibility, to solve these life and death issues on our own, it is easy to understand why there are so many views regarding this whole situation. These include a sense of fear or anxiety at all the inevitabilities or possibilities and an insistence that our government resolve all these issues apart from any personal political preference or leaning.

Honestly, I’m not sure what a person does when faced with catastrophic issues such as these if they believe it is all up to us solely as human beings to solve these issues. How can we have any assurance that any of this will work out all right in the end?

If we are honest with ourselves, we will admit that we want there to be people in our lives who know us by name and care about us enough to look after our interests, not just their own. We want to have governments who seek the best for every citizen and for the country as a whole, without taking advantage of anyone or neglecting those who cannot care for themselves. We want community leaders to take an interest in providing the basics of life for residents while at the same time providing quality of life for each person who lives there.

We ask for a world, nation, state, or community, in which each person is known by name, cared for according to their needs and preferences, and is able to pursue his or her own goals or ambitions. In this life, these are obviously not realistic expectations, yet I believe we often have these expectations even though we may never openly admit to it. It is made obvious by our response to events such as COVID-19 and all its accompanying restrictions and changes.

I believe we may be a lot wiser if we were willing to surrender these expectations to the reality that there is a profound difference between the human systems, governments, societies and culture of this world and the kingdom life described for us within the pages of the Bible. One of the flaws throughout the ages of the Christian church was its equating the kingdom of God with a particular human government or ruler. This was never meant to be the case.

What Jesus teaches us is that in his coming to us as God in human flesh, the kingdom of God came near or came among us. In his power and presence, God’s kingdom is real, tangible, and planted within our cosmos, to effectively, in Jesus’ life, death, resurrection and ascension, alter our human existence both now and forever. There is an over-reaching, undergirding, cosmos-filling kingdom which supersedes and surpasses any human government or leadership. This is a spiritual kingdom which can only be entered into by faith in Jesus Christ.

This may be hard to understand and accept. To say that Jesus is the center, the only door by which we enter by faith into these tangible spiritual realities, is, for many, a way of saying that these realities are exclusive and leave people out. This is far from being true. Rather than leaving anyone out, this is the assurance that everyone is included. This means that no person needs to live life apart from the blessing of knowing and being known by the One who created, redeemed, and sustains all. No one need struggle through life and its catastrophes and troubles all alone without comfort, solace or help.

Yet we do it. We choose to believe that none of this is true and that we can get through life just fine on our own—we don’t need anyone telling us what to do, how to do it, or to rescue us when we fall. This is especially true in these parts of the world where we do not really struggle to make ends meet or to take care of the everyday necessities. Many, if not most of us, can comfortably live our lives apart from any of the spiritual realities.

This is why Jesus said that we need to enter the kingdom of heaven as little children (Matt. 18:3-4). Children tend to realize their dependency upon those who care and provide for them. We need to recognize that we are more like wandering sheep who get ourselves into dangerous situations when we don’t listen to and follow our shepherd. Sheep who know and follow their shepherd are the ones who find themselves in pastures where they have the water and food they need, and they will be tenderly cared for should they be sick or injured.

There will be struggles and suffering in life, whether we believe in Jesus or not. The difference will be that as believers we know that God knows us and calls us by name. We have come to realize that God not only knows us personally, he loves us, and he is personally interested in what is happening in our lives. He is working moment by moment for our best, even though that may mean we temporarily struggle or suffer. The psalmist writes, Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me” (Psalm 23:4 NASB, emphasis added).

Jesus knows the way of suffering, for he has walked it himself. He does not ask us to go anywhere he has not gone or will not go with us. To follow Jesus is to share both in his glory and in his suffering. But we do so in the knowledge that God knows us by name and we belong to him—we don’t go through anything in this life that he is not going through with us right now and helping us through. There is no reason any of us need face life apart from being intimately connected at the core of our being with the One who is our life, and spiritually connected with others who share our life as adopted and beloved children of God, sheep of the Shepherd and Guardian of our souls.

Today, take a moment to ponder—in what way am I personally wandering about like a lost and forgotten sheep? In solitude and silence, invite God to call your name and to speak his words of love and grace to you. Consider, even if you do not sense God’s presence or words, what it means to be a sheep who hears his voice and follows. What does it mean that God knows you by name? What does it mean to be loved by God? Share with Jesus your commitment to follow him wherever he leads, from this day onward, no matter the cost.

Dear God, thank you for offering us life in Jesus Christ. Grant us the grace to listen to your voice, to hear you call our name, and to know we are your very own. Enable us to know we are loved and held, cared for tenderly as a shepherd cares for his sheep. We want to follow you wherever you lead, Jesus, even if it requires suffering and struggle. Grant us the grace to do this. In your name, Jesus, we pray. Amen.

“For you have been called for this purpose, since Christ also suffered for you, leaving you can example for you to follow in His steps, ‘who committed no sin, nor was any deceit found in his mouth’; and while being reviled, He did not revile in return; while suffering, He uttered no threats, but kept entrusting Himself to Him who judges righteously; and He Himself bore our sins in His body on the cross, so that we might die to sin and live to righteousness; for by His wounds you were healed. For you were continually straying like sheep, but now you have returned to the Shepherd and Guardian of your souls.” 1 Peter 2:21-25 NASB

“But he who enters by the door is a shepherd of the sheep. To him the doorkeeper opens, and the sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he puts forth all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. A stranger they simply will not follow, but will flee from him, because they do not know the voice of strangers.” John 10:2-5 NASB

Turning Off the Meow Button

Posted on Updated on

By Linda Rex

October 6, 2019, Proper 22—My daughter has a furry cat friend named Ramen who has a sparkling personality and an inquisitive nature. Whenever she gets stuck in a place she cannot escape from, such as a pet carrier or a room, she is very vocal about her desire for more freedom to explore. Sometimes it is necessary to limit her ability to move around, even though doing so means we will be treated to a long-winded meowing session.

There are times when I act like Ramen. Situations or relational necessities limit my freedom to do things the way I prefer. People, and even God, don’t handle things the way I think they need to be handled. I get stuck in a place I’d rather not be and it is so easy to let everyone in my life know my frustration, anger, and anxiety.

How hard it is to wait on God! It seems that we pray for this or that and the only thing we get in return is a long wait. Sometimes a very, very long wait. Waiting is not our strong point, especially those of us who are caught up in this fast-paced, techno-driven society. So instead of patiently waiting, we fret. We moan and complain. We throw up our hands in frustration and disappointment and take matters into our own hands. And that’s when things go wrong.

It’s hard to get our mind around the idea that we have a loving, generous, compassionate Dad who is looking out for our best interests. It is really hard to see this, much less believe it, when everything tangible and visible in our lives is in chaos or falling apart. When our expectations are not being met, when we cannot control the outcome of what is happening, then we start our meowing, thinking that the more noise we make, the better the outcome will be. And when that doesn’t work, we take over, doing our best to fix the situation ourselves.

In Luke 17:5-10, Jesus told his disciples that if they had the faith of a mustard seed, they could tell a mulberry tree to be moved and planted in the ocean and it would happen. Then he said that when a master has a slave come in from working in the field, that slave tends to the master’s needs not the master to the slave’s needs. No matter what the slave may have done that day, in spite of all his good effort, his worth or value is not in his performance—he has only done what was expected of him.

It seems that even the smallest amount of faith will accomplish great things. The problem is that we depend upon our own faith, not on Christ and his perfect faith in his Abba. There is no doubt in Jesus’ mind that his Father is good, compassionate and gracious. He is convinced that whatever is needful and good for us, his Abba will do. So, he trusts him implicitly. Our faith, in comparison, is often even smaller than mustard seed in size. We need Jesus to give us his perfect trust in his heavenly Father.

We can do all we want to in order to gain our Abba’s approval and acceptance. But if we are working the “do good so God will bless me” angle, we are going to be sorely disappointed. Whatever we do as God’s children is merely what is expected of us—we cannot coerce God into changing his mind by our human efforts, nor by our incessant demands on him. What God does or does not do has its basis in his nature, which is love.

Don’t get me wrong—God listens. He hears. He feels our pain and understands our struggles. In Jesus, he shares all the difficulties of our human existence. By the Spirit, he is present in every situation and circumstance. His heart is moved with compassion for us when we are in pain or in dire straits. He wants to help us, deliver us, and restore us.

But God is not a robot or a machine. The minute we approach our difficulties from the point of view “if I do this, then he has to do that”, of cause and effect, then we are caught up in magical thinking. We are turning God into an idol, forgetting that Abba is a divine Person, with his own will, preferences, thoughts and plans which are far above what our feeble human minds can grasp. God is free to do what is loving, gracious, and just. That just might mean he says no or it may mean we have to wait or be stuck in a difficult situation for an extended period of time.

Waiting on God is difficult. But when we surrender to the waiting, seeking silence in God’s presence rather than meowing at him for hours on end, we find that God all of a sudden becomes very present in the situation by the Spirit. As we slow down and wait silently on God, even taking time for silence in our prayers to Abba, we begin to realize the loving presence of Abba in the midst of our struggle.

Sometimes we don’t have an answer to the difficulty because we have never been silent long enough to hear what God is saying to us. Like our little kitty who just keeps meowing, we drown out the tender loving voice of the Spirit telling us all will be well and the solution is coming. Instead of being angry about the limitations we are facing, we could be grateful for God’s presence and care in the midst of them, and be reassured that God is presently at work in the situation bringing about his purposes and plans. Silent waiting brings our hearts and minds into resonance with God’s heart and mind, calming us and giving us peace.

Waiting in the silence with Jesus means trusting Abba to do the most loving, gracious and just thing in the situation that he can possibly do. It means having the faith to believe that God loves us and wants our best in every circumstance. And if we struggle with trust, we turn to Jesus, and draw upon his perfect trust in his Father.

I’m thinking this would be a good day to stop the noise and to be silent with God. What is it that we’ve been waiting for him to do? What things in our lives are limiting us and preventing us from being free to follow God’s lead into a new place? Perhaps it is time to stop the meowing and just sit silently with the One who already has the solution in motion and find out what he has in mind, surrendering ourselves to his wishes.

Dearest Abba, forgive us for being so noisy about not getting our way and not being able to make things go the way we want them to go. Grant us the grace to sit in silence with you, to be open and receptive to your Spirit, and obedient to the words of life you give us. Enable us to rest each day in your serenity and peace, through Jesus our Lord. Amen.

“Rest in the LORD and wait patiently for Him; Do not fret because of him who prospers in his way, / Because of the man who carries out wicked schemes. Cease from anger and forsake wrath; / Do not fret; it leads only to evildoing.” Psalm 37:7-8 NASB

“The Lord is good to those who wait for Him, / To the person who seeks Him. / It is good that he awaits silently / For the salvation of the Lord.” Lamentations 3:25-26 NASB

A New Capacity

Posted on

By Linda Rex

PENTECOST—As a pastor, I am often burdened by the struggles and suffering of those I minister to and of those I encounter as I move about in my community. I would love to help people find freedom from the things which enslave them and to find peace, joy, and renewal in a relationship with Jesus Christ.

But I realize how easy it is to allow the distractions and interests of life to occupy my own mind, time, and attention to the place that I lose focus on the things of God. Any relationship becomes stale or divided if not enough attention is given to it. To become indifferent to another person rather than deeply connected with them can easily happen without our realizing it if we are preoccupied with other things.

When we read about the disciples after the resurrection, we find them gathered together in community continuing in their relationship with Jesus Christ through prayer. As a group they were focused in prayer and they remembered that Jesus had told them they were to be witnesses to his life, death, and resurrection. But Jesus had told them to wait—to wait until they were clothed with power from on high.

I have no doubt that Peter could have told a powerful story of his own personal redemption, of how he had betrayed Jesus but Jesus had forgiven him and recommissioned him to tend the flock of God’s people. Matthew could have told about how Jesus found him in the marketplace, a despised tax collector, and told him to follow him, and how Jesus had changed his life and given him a new purpose. Mary Magdalene could have shared how Jesus had freed her from her many demons and given her a new life of service and obedience to her Lord.

But Jesus had told each of them to wait. He had told them that telling his story in their story would not be enough. Something more was needed.

God had come in the person of Jesus Christ, had taken on our humanity, had forged a new human existence for us, and had taught his disciples how to love and serve others in the way God meant us as humans to live. But Jesus was touching only a few people’s lives while he was here on earth. From the beginning God had intended the transformation of the entire cosmos. He had meant a change in the very substance of our human existence which would heal, restore, and renew all things.

For this reason, after his death and resurrection, Jesus needed to return to the Father and send the Spirit. Pouring out this gift of God’s presence and power on all flesh gave each human being the capacity for the new life Jesus forged for us while living in our humanity. And Jesus was frank about the reality that the world would not receive this gift. He knew and understood our human capacity to rebel against God and to resist the gracious love of the Father.

It seems that apart from our Abba’s work, we do not receive this gift and walk in the truth of our existence as his adopted children. Our tendency is to listen to and embrace the lies of the evil one instead and to seek our life in this broken existence rather than in the One who created us and redeemed us. We prefer to design and assume our own self-created identity rather than embracing the one given to us by God—to be his image-bearers, children who love him and one another with a self-sacrificial, humble, serving and gracious love.

What we don’t realize is that apart from this precious gift of the Spirit and the work of God’s power and presence in our lives, we are living as if something is missing. There is a capacity we do not have which we need so that we are able to truly be the people God intends us to be. We are not truly ourselves apart from the indwelling Spirit, for when the Spirit dwells richly within us, God dwells within and we participate in the realization of the kingdom of God. We experience in those moments what it describes in Revelation 21:3-5 where God comes to dwell with man and Jesus works to make all things new.

In Genesis, we read how Adam and Eve walked in the garden of Eden with God, talking with him and sharing all of life with him. Being in God’s presence and experiencing a personal relationship with our Creator is what we were created for. But more than that, we have been given through Jesus Christ by the Spirit the very real presence of God within our very being. Now God dwells within us permanently rather than merely being with us.

The power and presence of God within is lifechanging and transformational, but we will not experience the reality of this as long as other people and interests command our attention and focus. If our dependency is upon the things of this life, we will not depend upon God and his Spirit. Due to God’s grace, we can survive quite nicely for a while doing this, but we will miss out on the capacity to fully participate in our real human existence as children of God. We will struggle to truly express the nature of God in our words and actions and any witness we may give to the person and work of Jesus Christ will be limited and ineffective.

Attending upon the things of the Spirit through the spiritual disciplines such as prayer, worship, silence, sharing, bible study, gratitude, and meditation opens us up to the Spirit’s work within. Slowing down and taking time to focus on Jesus Christ allows the Spirit fill us and renew us for the work we have been given—to testify to the goodness and love of the Father expressed to us in his Son Jesus Christ. Just as the early church learned to wait for the promise of the Spirit before moving ahead on mission with Jesus, today believers learn to rest in Christ and to wait upon the Spirit before attempting to do ministry in this broken world.

Today, how can we pause and make room for the Spirit’s work within? How can we give undivided attention to the Lord Jesus Christ through prayer and the other spiritual disciplines? Perhaps all that is needed is simply silence and rest. God is present and real at all times—we simply need to awaken to his presence and power within, and to allow the Spirit to renew, inspire, teach, and lead us.

Thank you, Abba, that through Jesus you have sent your Spirit. Awaken us to your presence and power at work within us. Enable us to experience renewal, refreshment, and healing by your precious Spirit. Holy Spirit, fill us anew and empower us to bear witness to Jesus, and to live and walk in truth in Jesus’ name. Amen.

“And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit was giving them utterance.” Acts 2:4 NASB

“Truly, truly, I say to you, he who believes in Me, the works that I do, he will do also; and greater works than these he will do; because I go to the Father.”
John 14:12 NASB

“For all who are being led by the Spirit of God, these are sons of God.” Romans 8:14 NASB

Waiting in Silence

Posted on Updated on

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

Seeking Comfort and Relief

Posted on

By Linda Rex
My officemate and I were sitting at our desks one day. The whole atmosphere of the day had been pretty gloomy, with dark, cloudy skies, and endless buckets of rain. We both agreed it was a really good day for curling up with a blanket on the couch to read a good book.

Curling up in a chair or on the couch with a book and an apple was something I used to do a lot when I was younger. I loved reading—it was the way I escaped the boredom and unpleasantness in my life. I would bring home a stack of books from the library, and within a day or two, I would have read them all completely through. The books took me to worlds I would never visit in real life, and helped me learn things I would never learn in school or at home.

Somehow dark and rainy days always remind me of grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. I haven’t figured out why, but I’m pretty sure it was a comfort food which my mom used to serve us when I was little. She would make homemade bread into patties, cut them open and put butter and honey on them—mmm. She had a lot of special foods she would serve us—she loved fussing over us in this way.

If we were to think about it, we could come up with a list of things we learned to do as children which give us comfort. As we’ve gotten older, the comfort measures we use can take on new, and sometimes, more dangerous forms. We have boundless opportunities around us to distract us. Nowadays, it’s much easier to escape and find relief in these things than it is to face up to and deal with the unpleasantries and responsibilities of life.

While I’m all for having enjoyable pastimes and comfort foods, I’ve noticed it is really easy to become dependent upon these things and drift away from our sole dependency upon God. Instead of being attentive to the real desires in our hearts for connection, healing, and community, we numb ourselves with distractions and pleasures.

The psalmist, King David, reminds us the only rock and salvation is God alone. He is the only thing or Person we are to place our hope in, because he is the only One who can truly be counted on in every situation. Whether it is rest, comfort, peace, or even our value as human beings—there is only one Place where we are truly and always affirmed, beloved, and held.

Too often our relationship with God is a place of anxiety and distress rather than one of life and peace. Most often, our anxiety and distress is unnecessary, for, as the apostle Paul says, “If God is for us, who is against us?” (Romans 8:31b) When our distress and anxiety is valid, it is only because we have not seen God for who he really is—gracious, longsuffering, and kind, but loving enough to hold us responsible for the things we say and do which destroy or break our communion with God and others. Perhaps he is calling us to humble ourselves and turn back to the direction we know in our hearts we should have been going in the first place.

It is important for us to be attentive to what is going on in our hearts and minds, and to not distract ourselves away from it. We need to wrestle with our desires and pain and anger, and to not deny it, numb it, or wish it away. It’s there for a reason. Pain and anger are signals we or our boundaries have been violated. True desire is the heart of God at work in our hearts, calling us to what is holy, pure, and a real reflection of the nature and being of the God who created us in his image.

Truth be told, we live in a society which is filled with distractions. Much as I love my smartphone, I realize it’s capacity for keeping me from dealing with the things which really matter. If I am feeling an ache in my heart regarding my need for connection with God or others, it is easier to flip on the radio in my car than it is to have that meaningful conversation. Rather than dealing with the heartache or worry which is boiling inside, it’s so much easier to flip on my computer and bury myself in a game or a social media site.

But God calls us into relationship with himself and with others. And relationships are a messy business. And relationships require space and listening to hearts.

God also calls us into silence–into quieting ourselves in his presence so we can hear what’s going on in God’s heart and ours. Silence is a spiritual discipline which has been practiced by Christians for centuries. It involves taking time away from all distractions, and opening ourselves up to the work of the Holy Spirit. Being silent and undistracted means making ourselves fully available to God for inner work he wants to do in our hearts and minds.

Since this can be uncomfortable for us, we need faith–the faith of Christ. Our hope and trust must be fully in the God who created us and holds us in his love. Everything rests on him. And that’s a good thing, for he is the only One who can carry us and sustain us in each and every situation within which we find ourselves.

Dear Abba, you are truly trustworthy and faithful. Thank you for your love and grace in your Son Jesus. By your Spirit, please enable us to wait in silence for you, and to be attentive and obedient to your heart and mind. In your Name we pray. Amen.

“My soul, await in silence for God only, for my hope is from Him. He only is my rock and my salvation, my stronghold; I shall not be shaken. On God my salvation and my glory rest; the rock of my strength, my refuge is in God. Trust in Him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before Him; God is a refuge for us.” Psalm 139:5-8 NASB

Breathing and Being

Posted on

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

Still Waiting

Posted on

by Linda Rex

Once one of my friends showed me a picture of Moses and the parting of the Red Sea. On one side of the towering walls of water between which the thousands of Israelites were fleeing the Egyptians was a man in a boat. He had a fishing pole in his hand which was bent under the strain of having a large fish on the hook. The only problem was that the fish with the hook in its mouth was on the other side of the great chasm!

How often in life we are caught in a predicament like the fisherman who was out of his league. Or the Israelites who froze in fear when the Egyptians caught them with their backs to the Red Sea with nowhere else to go. But God’s word to the Israelite nation then are his same words to us today: “The LORD will fight for you while you keep silent.” (Ex. 14:14). All God wants from us is for us to trust him in the midst of our predicament.

The problem is the “keep silent” part—the “be still” part of the whole thing can make us really anxious. It’s counter-intuitive to do nothing in the face of a real problem but sit still and keep silent. And that makes us very uncomfortable, especially if we are one of those Type A personality people who likes to “get ‘er done!” It’s the waiting that kills us.

But the waiting in silence is the key to the whole process. This is because God is a whole lot more concerned about what we learn from the whole experience and how we grow in our faith and love for him than he is about rescuing us immediately from our struggles. It is in the silence and in the waiting that we begin to see the situation more clearly. We begin to hear the Holy Spirit’s calming whisper and encouragement. We find that the Lord does have an answer for us in the midst of the chaos. It may be just as simple as, “Hang on!”

The spiritual disciplines of silence and stillness are important for Christians to practice regularly. In silence and stillness, we open ourselves to hear what God has to say to us and we make ourselves available to God for his Spirit to give us guidance, encouragement, correction and hope.

Many times in the midst of the quietness we are amazed to find the answer come to us in a complete and clear way we would never have thought of on our own. Or we may get that phone call we’ve been waiting on and fretting about. God often moves powerfully when we determine to be still and just trust him. Waiting patiently for God in silence and stillness is worth the effort.

Lord, thank you that we can turn to you in the midst of our predicaments and wait in silence and stillness for you to act on our behalf. Grant us the grace to trust you and wait on you patiently when we are in need or in trouble. Amen.

“Be still before the LORD and wait patiently for him;…” Psalm 37:7