By Linda Rex
I apologize for not writing a blog last week. My goal is to write one every Friday or thereabouts, but last Thursday I took my family to a cabin in the Great Smoky Mountains to spend a long weekend. This was the first time we had done this together as a family, and I appreciated this opportunity for a change a scenery and some time away from my ministry responsibilities.
During our visit there I visited the Clingman’s Dome visitor center. The view from there was stupendous. The mountains stretch out as far as the eye can see, and they were just beginning to come alive with new spring growth and blossoming trees.
This may sound odd, but I was impressed with the numbers of people who were there just to see the sights. Some were all decked out in hiking regalia, ready to take on the challenge of a mountain trail. Others were there with family, taking pictures of one another, with the mountains as a backdrop.
There was a constant bubbling hum of joy—of sharing the common appreciation of the beauty and wonder of the creation. To me, this is the calling we all have and that we share in, whether we realize it or not—to bear witness to the glory of God, and all he has done and all that he is. In many ways, this is a hint as to what we are called to as God’s adopted children—to revel in and celebrate the wonders of God’s goodness, love, and grace.
This theme continued on throughout the visit for me. One afternoon I went over to Cherokee to sit by the Ocanaluftee River and do some personal reflection. The water was swift and clear, running over rocks and creating little spurts of white here and there. The trees were just beginning to put on leaves, and some were filled with flowers. The birds were singing their hearts out, creating a pleasant atmosphere. The place where I sat was surrounded on all sides by the mountains, so it seemed tucked in and cozy.
Down the river from me, a man was fly fishing, without much success that I could see. A couple of children were playing in the water opposite from where I was sitting, pretending their dolls were swimming. Upstream, two girls were relaxing in the water where it was deeper, coming up occasionally, soaked and laughing. A couple was pushing an elderly lady across the pedestrian bridge in a wheelchair, stopping occasionally so she could enjoy the view. Groups of families were having lunch together, their voices carrying across the water to where I was sitting.
It occurred to me after a while that I was experiencing one of those moments in life which are foretastes of our future with God in the new earth. We’ve been talking about the new earth and heaven at our Wednesday night discussion group, and we’ve seen the scriptures which describe the new earth where God comes to dwell with humanity forever.
The apostle John describes a river, the water of life, flowing from the presence of Abba and his Son—the ever-flowing river of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus. We find our life, our renewal, and our healing in him. The life we live together forever will be the perichoretic life in which the Father, Son, and Spirit have existed for all eternity. Their way of being is filled with outgoing love, generosity, and creativity, and we have been made to share in this through Jesus and by the Spirit.
Our future life as glorified humans will be filled with such beauty and joy, we can only catch little glimpses now. We anticipate the day when we all will live together in each moment in the truth of our existence as human beings—loving God with all we are and loving our neighbor as ourselves. There will be ongoing joyful celebration of all God has made and all God has done through Jesus and by the power and presence of his Spirit, forever.
It is essential for us as broken people to take time to slow down enough to catch these “glimpses of joy.” It is good for us to be attentive to the signs of eternity which are evident all around us, but we often are too busy or too broken to attend to. When we allow ourselves to have eternity on our minds, we will find ourselves recognizing these moments more easily, for they are all around us, happening all the time—but we are usually too busy, distracted, or pain-filled to notice them.
What the Word of God did in coming into our human flesh and joining our humanity with the divine Being, made possible for each of us a sharing in the life and love of God even now. We have the future to anticipate, but we also have the present to enjoy. God has brought us into relationship with himself. He has done in Jesus Christ all that is needed for us to share both now and forever the blessing of living in his presence.
But God does not force himself on us. He has reconciled himself to us in Christ, and he invites us by the Spirit to reconcile ourselves with him. He has brought us into oneness with himself in Christ, and by his Spirit invites us to accept, embrace, and live in the truth of this. He has created a future for you and me which is filled with joyful celebration of all God has done and all he has made, and offers it to us to receive it and begin to participate in it even now.
By the Spirit, Abba calls to us right now, saying, “Come rejoice with me! All is well! Drink up—the water of life is all yours! Don’t just take a sip—soak in it, play in it, build your life around it, let it affect and influence all of your relationships, decisions, experiences—from now on into eternity.” We are to trust in the blessedness of the gift of God’s Son and live, both now and forever, in the truth of our being as God’s adopted children, in and through Christ and by his Spirit. This is our real life, and one we can begin to experience right now, as we are willing.
Abba, thank you for the blessed gift of joy and celebration we have in your Son Jesus and by your Spirit. Thank you for all your blessings, all you have created for our enjoyment and pleasure. Grant us the grace to be attentive to the glimpses of glory you give us in our everyday lives, and the grace to always live gratefully and joyfully in your presence both now and forever, through Jesus our Lord. Amen.
“Then he showed me a river of the water of life, clear as crystal, coming from the throne of God and of the Lamb, in the middle of its street. On either side of the river was the tree of life, bearing twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit every month; and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations. Revelation 22:1-2 NASB
By Linda Rex
I don’t know about you, but some days I wonder whether it was worth the effort to even get out of bed. It seems from the moment my feet hit the floor I am running backwards faster than I am moving forward. On days like this, hot tea or coffee doesn’t seem to help, and I’m hoping that the first person who comes in the door at work will pretend they don’t see me and will walk right on down the hall.
But the phone rings right then and I have to answer it. The cheerful tone in my voice is a little forced, but somehow in the middle of the conversation about who they need to talk to about what I find the capacity to genuinely serve and help someone. A silent prayer of gratitude forms in my heart—it seems there is hope for me after all, but only because of God’s grace and power.
And this is the thing about Good Friday. Here on this day we may ponder the suffering of Christ. We may read the story of him being taken into custody, having been betrayed by one of his very own followers. He did not get a good night’s rest, but spent the hours being grilled, beaten, and falsely accused of things which would never have even crossed his mind.
What really is amazing about this story is in his broken humanity, crushed by the anger and hate of fellow human beings, and weakened by the loss of blood and blows to his body, Jesus was at his strongest and most powerful. Why would I say that? Because he had access to legions of angels and to all the forces in the universe—and he did not call on them to help. What incredible strength of will and depth of humility!
In Hebrews, the writer says Jesus, “for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame…” (Heb. 12:2 NASB). He did not resist, nor did he regret, what he did in bearing up under the crucifixion. He had his heart and mind focused on the spiritual realities, securely rooted in his eternal relation with his Abba. He knew he was loved, held, and not forsaken, no matter how things appeared at the moment. And he had something he was trying to accomplish—something to complete—the destruction and removal of evil, sin, and death from our humanity and our cosmos.
What a task! To wrestle with the forces of evil requires incredible stamina of mind and will. To resist the temptation to quit or give in demands endurance and perseverance beyond our human capacity. To hang on when even the human body gives way means there was much more needed than just a human being dying on a cross when Jesus was crucified. The very presence of God himself on that cross was what was needed and what Abba gave us in sending us his Son Jesus to stand in our stead.
Because our Jesus was fully God and fully man, he conquered evil, sin, and death completely. There is nothing which was left undone in his gift of himself on the cross. He did it not because he had to, but because he chose to. He did it in love for you and for me.
So, if Jesus did such a good and complete job of conquering evil, sin, and death, why do I still struggle with my attitude and my behavior? Why do we still have people who go around shooting other people? What’s the point of what Jesus has done?
That is a really good question. I could say, Jesus set us an example of how we are to live our lives—as good people who are willing to sacrifice themselves for others. That’s a nice sentiment, but it lacks any substance. Just ask anyone who has for any length of time tried to really live the way Jesus lived—it’s really hard to do, actually next to impossible for us as humans to achieve in this life. No, there is something more going on than this.
I believe Jesus gave us as human beings the capacity to once again be truly human—to live the way we were created to live—loving God with all our being and loving our neighbors as ourselves. Jesus enabled us to be genuine in our humanity by setting us free from evil, sin, and death, and enabling us to live in intimate relationship with his Abba by his Spirit.
And there it is. We have the capacity to be truly human because of Jesus. He has joined us forever with the Being of God in his Person so we can participate in the union and communion of the Father, Son, and Spirit. Yet, it took Jesus dying, rising, and sending the Spirit for this to be worked out in each of our lives individually. We each have been given the gift of God’s Spirit and Presence but are called upon to receive this gift and participate in the life we were created for.
The process of receiving this gift resembles remarkably the events of Good Friday. The Maundy Thursday meal where Jesus offered his body as the bread and his blood as the wine, was meant to help us identify the gift which was being given—Jesus Christ himself—his life for our life, his ways for our ways, his plans for our plans.
We join Jesus in his story on Good Friday as we own the truth of our failures, our missing the mark of who we were meant to be as God’s beloved children, and we lay down our broken humanity and receive his humanity in its place. We embrace the living Christ, who dwells within by his Spirit, surrendering to his Presence and Power.
This laying down that we might rise also means tossing away our feeble efforts at becoming godlike under our own power. Indeed, facing the reality of our failures as humans is healthy and essential to the process. We need to be willing to say, “I didn’t…”, “I can’t…”, and even, “I won’t…”—to admit the truth of our resistance against all which right, true, and holy. We can boldly come to our Abba and say, because of Jesus and our intimate connection with him, “I was wrong. I should not have done that, thought that, or said that.” And we can know in that moment, we are forgiven, embraced, and held. In spite of our failures, we are loved and included in Abba’s life.
As Jesus laid in the tomb on Holy Saturday, it seemed to all those he had grown close to that all hope was lost. In the same way, we can at times be so overwhelmed by the evil, sin, and death of this human existence, we begin to believe all hope is lost. We can live blinded to what is really going on: Jesus Christ is making all things new, and we are included in that great work he is doing right now in this world. All is forgiven and healed in him, but not everyone has embraced Abba’s solution to the problem.
Indeed, God calls on you and me, once in the sacrament of baptism, often as we eat the bread and wine in communion, and moment by moment as we live our lives, to die with Christ and rise with Christ. This is the truth of our existence, so we act like it. We live as though it were true.
In this moment in front of us, we may feel like we’re still rotting in the grave, but when we take a step in faith—trusting we are instead walking out of the tomb into the bright sunlight of God’s love and grace—we’ll find, that’s exactly the case. We are forgiven. We are loved. We are held. We are truly, essentially, and fully human, as God meant us to be.
Thank you, Abba, for including us in your life and love, through your Son Jesus and by your Spirit. Grant us the grace to see how we individually and collectively participate in your story, Jesus, when you walked the road to and through death and resurrection, and to receive this gift of love and forgiveness with open hearts and hands. May we receive and live in the fullness of the gift of our true humanity in and through you, Jesus, and by your Spirit. Amen.
“Now where there is forgiveness of these things, there is no longer any offering for sin.” Hebrews 10:18 NASB
By Linda Rex
We’ve been discussing heaven on Wednesday nights at our group meeting. This week we were examining how the beginning of the Bible and the end of the Bible come together with humanity having access to the tree of life.
In Genesis, we learn God created Adam from the earth, and then picked him up and placed in in a special garden. In time, God brought Eve from Adam to join him in this Garden of Eden. And within this special garden was the tree of life and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. They were told they could eat of any tree in the garden they wanted to, but they were not to eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil.
From the beginning God offered humanity the tree of life. This true life was meant to be ours—a joining together of our life with God’s life. We were meant to participate in an abundance of being in which we drew our life from God himself, in fellowship and harmony with him.
Adam and Eve, in choosing to eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil brought upon themselves and all humanity the sentence of death. For millennia since we have as human beings chosen the way of death rather than the way of life, by going our own way and determining for ourselves what is good and what is evil. We have closed the door between us and our Creator and Redeemer, refusing to receive our life and being from him (even though our life really does come from him).
The cherubim which God set at the door to the Garden of Eden when Adam and Eve left there, he set there to protect us. He knew in this state of self-determination, self-reliance, and self-will, humanity would only spiral down into nothingness and self-destruction. And this was not what he created us for. We were meant for so much more than this—we were meant to truly live.
The pages of the Bible are filled with God’s story of how he brought this cosmos and its inhabitants into existence out of nothing. It tells how he created human beings in his likeness to share in his glory, and how when they chose the way back to nothingness, he came to reveal himself to them and to deliver them.
The One who was the Son of God and through whom all things came into being entered our sphere of existence: “All things came into being through Him, and apart from Him nothing came into being that has come into being. In Him was life, and the life was the Light of men (John 1:3-4 NASB)”. This God in human flesh, Jesus Christ, stood on earth and said to those around him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life (John 14:6 NASB).”
In the final chapters of the Bible, in the apocalyptic language of the day, the apostle John describes the coming of the New Jerusalem down to earth. All has been made new—new heaven and new earth—and God has come to dwell with humanity here on earth. From the place where God dwells flows the river of life, and by it the tree of life, which bears fruit and leaves which bring healing to the nations (Rev. 21-22).
Somehow along the way, we as humans seem to always manage to wander off the path which would take us to the tree of life. Our best efforts actually prevent us from participating in what God meant to be ours all along. It’s like we’re standing at the gate, fumbling with the latch, and yet we can’t seem to figure out how to open the door. We’ve tried climbing over the fence, crawling underneath it, and even attempted to cut our way through. But in the end, it turns out, there is only one way to get in—through our Lord Jesus Christ.
This doesn’t mean anyone is excluded, but rather that all are included. This means the opening is available to each and every human being—because Jesus stood in the place of each and every human being. Because he is God in human flesh, Jesus Christ is the redemption of each and every human being—he is the Gate, the Door, the Way—the Path to true life, the life we were created for.
This Stone which the builders rejected (Psalm 18:19) is the very foundation of the new life which is ours. And, so, we cry, “Hosanna!”—save us! We long for this life, and we seek so often and in so many ways to find it in our human, temporal existence. But we end up in slavery or in some form of death because of our efforts. In our hearts, we are always crying in some way, “Lord, if you are real, then please, save us!” And yet, we avoid with horror the very source of our true life—Jesus Christ.
This is what we each must wrestle with as we seek our path to real life: Who or what is the source of my life? From what, or who, do I draw my existence, my joy, and my very being?
There are many paths to walk, but only one trodden first by our Maker and Sustainer. There are many doors we can walk through, but only one Door which leads to real life. There are many reasons to get up in the morning, but only one Logos, or Reason, which gives real purpose to our lives. God will bring us each to the place where we must deal with the truth of our existence—we must face up to the reality there is only one way to live as human beings, and it’s not our way, it’s his.
Our humanity has been swept up into the divine life and love in Jesus Christ. He has purchased for us, through his broken body and shed blood, an entirely new human existence. He has in essence, in himself, recreated us as human beings and picked us up and placed us once again in the garden from which we were expelled. He has led us by the hand to the tree of life and is standing there with the fruit in his hand, inviting us to eat.
We can reach out, take the fruit, and bite off a large piece and begin chewing. Or we can try to run to the other end of the garden and grab some more of that knowledge of good and evil. Jesus calls out to you and to me, “Eat and live!” This is why we come to the table of communion each Sunday: We are invited again to come to Christ, to find our life in him, to share in his broken body and shed blood by partaking of the bread and the wine once again—our participation in communion is a turning away from ourselves and our feeble attempts at finding our own path and life, and a turning to him, showing we are drawing our life from him and him alone.
And this is why we participate in the act of baptism—the one-time expression of our participation in Christ’s death and resurrection through being immersed in water. We demonstrate in this act our immersion in the Spirit of life which Abba has sent through his Son. We show in a real way our inclusion in the body of Christ—the gathering of those who are actively participating in the life which is ours in and through Jesus Christ. We are dead to our old ways of living and being and we have been raised to new life.
Whatever we may understand heaven to be or not be, we do not need to wait until the end of our life to experience eternal life. Eternal life begins now—in our participation in Christ’s life. Jesus has entered triumphantly into our human existence, bearing it in himself to the cross, and bringing it through death by crucifixion to the resurrection into new life. He bears our humanity, even now, in the presence of Abba—this is the ultimate reality of our existence we celebrate during Holy Week.
We are included in God’s life. Every moment of our existence is lived in the real presence of God, through Jesus and by his Spirit. This is why the apostle Paul said, “Be filled with the Spirit (Eph. 5:18 NASB)”. We embrace the indwelling Christ, the One who is the Way, the Life—our real existence, for he lives in us by the Spirit. We have real life, now and forever. This is the true blessing of our existence, for which we give thanks and praise to God.
Thank you, Abba, for sending your Son and your Spirit, so we may share in true life with you both now and forever. This Holy Week, remind us anew of your grace and love, and awaken us to a deeper faith, through the gift of your Son, Jesus our Lord and by your Spirit. Amen.
“Open to me the gates of righteousness; I shall enter through them, I shall give thanks to the Lord. This is the gate of the Lord; the righteous will enter through it. I shall give thanks to You, for You have answered me, and You have become my salvation.” Psalm 118:19-21 NASB
“Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the way is broad that leads to destruction, and there are many who enter through it. For the gate is small and the way is narrow that leads to life, and there are few who find it.” Matt. 7:13-14 NASB
By Linda Rex
This week has been a busy one and when I am overwhelmed timewise in this way, I find it very easy to slip into unhealthy habits of losing sleep or eating things I wouldn’t, and probably shouldn’t, normally eat. The magical thinking begins with this one little phrase “just this once won’t hurt.”
If I was honest, I would have to say this magical phrase too often governs such decisions. For the most part, “just this once” isn’t a bad thing. Really, such impromptu delights bring joy to our lives. We can take pleasure in the here and again treasures we encounter in our daily life—and I believe God meant us to. Life was meant to be filled with such moments of delight in the presence of Abba.
However, when such pleasures begin to govern our decision-making and begin to rule our thoughts and passions, we find ourselves in the midst of what the apostle John calls the “lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life.” This is why he says we are not to love the world or the things in the world—it is very easy to become enslaved to anything we put in the place in our hearts, minds, and lives which was meant for God alone.
God is so emphatic or passionate about this because he knows this is not what we were created for. The things we lust after or become addicted to do not fill up the empty place in our hearts and lives we attempt to use them to fill. They may temporarily numb the pain we are experiencing or dull the anxiety we may be feeling, but ultimately, they do not resolve the real issues we need to face and in which we need to experience God’s healing or help.
Our momentary personal pursuit of happiness often actually derails our experience of true joy. In dulling or avoiding the pain, anxiety, or anger we feel, we may lose opportunities to deeply engage God (or others) in some serious one-on-one conversations which may resolve long-lasting resentments, false beliefs, or disagreements. In not engaging these negative feelings, we may be missing out on opportunities to experience healing, renewal, forgiveness, and cleansing—all of which are paths to true joy in the presence of Jesus.
Sometimes I think our culture encourages two extremes with regards to this. On the one hand, we are willing to put people on national television so everyone can see and talk about their messed up thinking and messed up lives. On the other hand, there are people who end up going on a shooting rampage because they’ve never gotten proper help with or healing for their mental and emotional struggles—often we hear no one even knew or cared they were struggling.
In this culture which celebrates indulging our pleasures and passions, we can find it difficult to pursue true joy in our life with Christ. We can be derailed in so many ways, not realizing we’re bound up in unhealthy ways of living or being until we are caught and find it’s not so easy to get out. And the solution isn’t always just as simple as “repent and believe”. It may require something more—relationship. It may require getting up-close and personal with someone about our struggles, failures and pain. And this we avoid.
When God calls us by his grace into relationship with himself, he places us by his Spirit into the Body of Christ. He joins us with other believers. He means for us to live in spiritual community and not to isolate ourselves. He wants us to experience the true joy we were created for, and he know this can only be found within the context of faithful, loving relationship, specifically as children held together within the inner relations of Father, Son, and Spirit.
God does not intend for any of us to have to go through life wounded, broken, and forsaken. He does not mean life to be a depressing, empty struggle. Yes, life will be tough and bad things will happen, but when we engage such a life from within the context of loving, committed relationship with God and our spiritual community, it becomes bearable and even joyful. We may find in the middle of our struggles we experience a deep, inner joy—not because of our human attempts at medicating our pain, but due to Christ indwelling our hearts by the Holy Spirit and us experiencing loving relationships with others within our spiritual community.
As a classic avoider, I have learned there comes a time when the price we pay for avoiding our issues becomes much higher than what it would cost for us to face up to our issues and deal with them. There comes a time when we need to embrace the truth and speak the truth in love or get professional help for our issues. At some point we need to delve into the unpleasant, slicing the festering sore open again so the accumulated pus can be removed and the wound cleansed—this may be what is needed to let real healing start. And this may require professional help, or it may only require healthy the intervention of Christ by his Holy Spirit within the context of spiritual community.
At other times, though, we may just need to experience the little joys of life. The “exception clause” may actually apply in these cases. God sometimes places these little moments of joy in front of us and means for us to experience little tastes of heaven to increase our anticipation of what is to come when we are truly living as glorified humans in the presence of Abba forever. He reminds us in this way of his affection for us and of his faithful love and grace, drawing from us the gratitude and praise he deserves to receive in response.
All the things we attach ourselves to in this life and believe are necessary for our fulfillment and pleasure must be seen within the context of eternity. Some are just passing pleasures which will one day be supplanted by the genuine eternal pleasures of life in Christ.
True lasting joy may be found in what will endure beyond this life on into the next—giving to, sharing with, serving, helping, forgiving, and loving others. Notice these are all ways in which we pour out from ourselves and into others, and in which we receive from others what they have to give. This is the divine perichoretic life—and this is what we were created to participate in forever. In this life, there are no exceptions—there will be no “just this once”, but an eternal participation in the life and love of Abba, Jesus, and the Spirit which is filled with joy and peace, and all God’s blessings through Jesus our Lord.
Thank you, Abba, for all your good gifts and for sharing with us the life you share with your Son and your Spirit. Grant us the grace to face up to the truth as we need to and to get the help which may be required for us to get well and stay healthy. Enable us to find, experience, and live in the true joy you created us for—pour into us your joy, for all our springs of joy are found in you. May we celebrate now and forever, in perfect joy, the gift of eternal life with you, through Jesus and by your Spirit. Amen.
“Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and make me willing to obey you.” Psalm 51:12 NLT
“Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world—the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life—is not of the Father but is of the world. And the world is passing away, and the lust of it; but he who does the will of God abides forever.” 1 John 2:15-17 NKJ
By Linda Rex
The other day I was sitting outside in a garden when I felt a breeze begin to blow across my face. The tree branches swayed and bent with the movement of the wind. The air was comfortably warm, and the color of the deep blue sky contrasted with the browns and grays of the winter foliage.
As the gentle wind blew the trees about, I was reminded of what Jesus said about the Holy Spirit. He said we don’t really know where the wind comes from or where it is going. In the same way, he said, we don’t know where and how the Spirit is at work in someone. The Spirit is not a thing we control or manipulate—the Spirit is a person we have a relationship with.
It seems when we come up against struggles in this life or we experience difficulty with being unable to change what we would like to see changed, we often blame God or ourselves for it. If we are a believer in Christ, we may even accuse ourselves of not having enough of God’s Spirit, or not praying hard enough, or of not “being in the Word” enough. We pour out upon ourselves condemnation for our failures and shortcomings.
It is easy to lay the blame for much of our faults and difficulties at our own door. If only I had…. If I just would…. And often, there is good reason for us feeling we are to blame. There may be some basis in fact.
It is just as easy to lay the blame elsewhere, at other people’s feet. I wouldn’t have this problem if he hadn’t…. Or, if she hadn’t done that, then I wouldn’t be in this position right now. There’s always room to blame someone or something.
Yet Jesus, in his preaching, taught us to throw away all the stones. None of us should be casting stones at anyone else, since we are all equally guilty and at fault. There is no place for stone-casting in the kingdom of God (John 8:1-11).
We can forget, though, that we may still be in our stone-casting mode when it comes to ourselves. We may hold things against ourselves which God forgave a long time ago. In fact, God forgave it all millennia ago on the cross—so why do we hold onto it? Why do we wander about in the darkness, thinking we are rejected or unloved by God, when in reality he has forgiven and is forgiving us?
In our struggle against those things in our lives which do not reflect the glory of Christ we were created to bear, we can find ourselves wallowing in our failures. Life is a struggle, full of difficulties and pains and griefs. We are going to trip up and not live in the way we know we should. Other people are going to point the finger and remind us of our shortcomings. But what we do with our failures is critical.
We must not lie about them. The apostle John says when we act as if we don’t have any faults, we are lying and not walking in the truth (1 John 1:5-10). To lie about, ignore or deny our failures means we are walking about in the darkness. We are not walking in truth.
The truth is we are all walking in the Light of God’s presence in each moment of our lives. By the Spirit we are all in the presence of God at all times. There is no existence apart from God’s Being as Father, Son, and Spirit. Whatever we do, good or bad, is in God’s presence—to say we have not done anything wrong is to say something that God already knows isn’t true. So why even try to pretend we are perfect?
When Jesus ascended to heaven, he sent the Spirit from our Father—he gave us the indwelling presence of God within. This is a perfect gift, as it is the gift of an ongoing relationship with Abba through Jesus in the Spirit—a relationship we were created for and were intended to have from before time began. This relationship is not dependent upon our perfection, but solely dependent upon God’s infinite love which was demonstrated to us in his Son Jesus and what he did for us in his life, death, resurrection, and ascension.
The struggle we may have as individuals is receiving this gift and embracing the truth we live as forgiven sinners each and every moment of our lives. Sometimes the idol we need to cast down is the belief we could, if we tried hard enough, attain perfection of some kind in this life. This doesn’t mean anything goes, but rather we live daily in the humility of our creatureliness—we’re capable of the worst, but God has declared that’s not who we are. Rather, we are forgiven, beloved, and accepted in his Son Jesus—he is our saving grace.
Laying down the stones we’d prefer to cast at ourselves is hard to do sometimes. It may be that castings rocks at ourselves is the normal thing for us to do, since everyone who we truly cared about has done this to us—so we believe this is what we deserve. We may feel better, temporarily, about ourselves if we cast a few stones, because casting stones is easier than facing up to our failures and asking for forgiveness and help with them. There is some measure of pride in being able to cast stones at ourselves rather than humbly owning our need to repent and trust in Christ, asking him to transform us by his Spirit.
In their novel Healing Stones, Steve Arterburn and Nancy Rue create a character who struggles with a major personal failure and who desperately wants to make things right. At one point her counselor hands her a rock, and says to her, “…take this stone with you…and find a use for it besides throwing it at yourself.” The truth is, there are times when our worst enemy is ourselves. We can be more of an accuser than the Accuser himself—and save him the effort in the process.
We don’t always know what the Spirit is doing in us or in those around us. The process of healing is intricate and difficult, and very time-consuming. The work the Spirit does in a person’s mind and heart is often hidden and isn’t seen until after the fact—we see the effects, not the actual work the Spirit does.
We can participate in the healing process in others and in ourselves by throwing away our rocks and stones. In fact, we may even consider turning them into something useful instead. Rather than condemning others for their failures, perhaps we can help them–being honest enough about our own failures we could come alongside them and help them to grow and heal in ways in which we didn’t receive help and encouragement.
This opens up space for the Spirit to do an even greater work of healing and renewal. Sometimes our failures are, when we surrender them to the grace of God in Christ and the cleansing work of the Holy Spirit, the means by which the wind of the Spirit brings hope to others. In this way, we participate in the grace given in Jesus for all humanity and find healing for ourselves in the process.
Abba, thank you for embracing us in spite of our failures and weaknesses. Thank you for embracing us in your grace, in the gift of your Son and the Spirit. Holy Spirit, blessed Wind of God, blow in and through us, filling us anew with the heart and mind of the Father, through Jesus our Lord. Amen.
“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 3:8 NASB
By Linda Rex
Years ago, I was looking through the books in the public library during my summer vacation from school when one author’s name on the spine of a book caught my eye. Back then people did not name their children Zane, and Grey was an unusual last name. Curious, I mentioned Zane Grey to my dad. He seemed to know who the author was, but he discouraged me from reading his books.
In later years, though, I picked up Riders of the Purple Sage and was surprised to find I identified with the heroine in the story. From then on, I was hooked and began looking for his books in all the libraries near where I lived.
The culture of the Old West presented in Zane Grey’s stories may have been embellished and not entirely accurate. But his presentation of the human heart and the human condition were impressive to me. He wrote of the worst decadence and oppressive evil we humans are capable of. He told stories of men and women who were so given over to evil they were enslaved by it and unable to free themselves.
But Zane Grey also told stories of the capacity of the human heart and mind to rise above all opposition and evil so as to stand against such evil and bring justice and hope to their community and loved ones. He wrote about the way people wrestled with their conscience and their limitations to eventually rise above it all and find freedom and hope.
In many ways we find these same kind of stories in the Bible—this is the human story. The Scriptures are filled with the raw honest truth about our failures as human beings—our enslavement to evil and sin. But they also tell the stories of broken, fragile humans who stand against evil and sin, and who, by God’s grace and power, bring hope, healing, and renewal to their families and communities. It seems that hidden within our broken jars of clay is a glory which cannot be buried.
It is amazing how God chose to enter into our broken humanity in the person of the Word, the Son of God. How is it that God could and would stuff his amazing divine glory into a few little cells? How was it that Jesus was able to hide for so many years the glory of God which was hidden within him?
And yet, this is what we see Jesus did. He may have healed people, cast out demons, and stilled the storm, but he was just as human when he got done as when he began. He spent a lot of time telling people not to share with others the truth about how he healed them or helped them. It was not Jesus’ purpose to shine with divine glory during the majority of his stay in human flesh here on earth.
What James, Peter, and John got to see on the mountain of the transfiguration was very special. They had their eyes opened to the reality of the true glory of Jesus. And they were stunned—they didn’t know how to react. Peter in his momentary delirium suggested building booths for them to stay in. But Jesus was only giving them a glimpse—he was not reassuming his eternal glory in that particular moment. He remained in his humanity—and told them to keep this event to themselves until after the resurrection.
It would take the death and resurrection of Jesus for the disciples to begin to understand what it was Jesus was doing. He had no interest in touting his own glory while in human flesh but rather chose to intentionally set it aside to share in ours. He was living in relationship with his Abba in the Spirit just as we are to. He was not living out of his divine glory, but rather sharing in our human glory—the glory God created in us as reflections of his glory as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
What Jesus did in his life, death, resurrection, and ascension was to sweep all of humanity up into his story as the Son of the Living God. It seems there is so much more going on in the world than just our everyday mundane lives. Each of us in Christ is now the hero or heroine who has the task of standing in opposition to all which is evil, sinful, and destructive no matter the cost to him or herself. In Christ we are included in the divine fellowship of Father, Son, and Spirit, and we are more than conquerors over anything the kingdom of darkness may choose to throw at us.
Our lives are hidden with Christ in God, so whatever we may be doing is a participation in Christ’s very life. Are we living like the evil villain in this story? Or are we acting as if we are the unexpected deliverer? Are we living the lie the kingdom of darkness is the real power at work in the world, or are we living out the truth that all evil, sin, and death were conquered over and swept away in Jesus Christ?
In sending his Holy Spirit to earth through his risen Son Jesus, Abba poured out the gift of his Presence and Power on all flesh. This gift is there for you and me—the indwelling Christ, the presence of God within our humanity—this treasure in jars of clay. We have a glory, a capacity which is beyond our comprehension. In Christ by the Spirit we are capable of more than what we often believe possible.
What we do with that gift is critical. Like taking a book off the shelf and opening it up to read it, we can jump into the midst of the story and be a part of the action. Or we can leave it on the shelf, and never experience the thrill of the story, the anticipation of the ending, or the companionship of fellow journeyers. Are we going to go by what someone else said about the book? Or are we going to read it for ourselves?
Christ has done all which needs to be done to make this incredible story something we get to share in. Maybe it’s time to pull the book off the shelf.
Dear Abba, thank you for including us in this amazing story through your Son Jesus Christ. By your Spirit awaken us to our full and joyful participation in it. Open our eyes to see, our ears to hear, and our heart to know what is really going on: You dwell in us and call us to share forever in your divine fellowship of love and grace, through Jesus our Lord and by your Spirit. Amen.
“For God, who said, “Let there be light in the darkness,” has made this light shine in our hearts so we could know the glory of God that is seen in the face of Jesus Christ. We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we ourselves are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves.” 2 Corinthians 4:6-7 NLT
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