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?
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
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.
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