Monthly Archives: June 2019

“No Reproach in God’s Healing”

            “But he as pierced for our transgressions;

                        he was crushed for our iniquities;

             upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,

                        and with his wounds we are healed.”

(Isaiah 53:5, English Standard Version

https://accordance.bible/link/read/ESVS#Is._53:5)

“There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death.”

(Romans 8:1–2, English Standard Version

https://accordance.bible/link/read/ESVS#Rom._8:1)

If you read my blog posts regularly, you have no doubt picked up on the fact that my own musings are often provoked by my 12-step readings.  Today’s post is another one with the same origin.  This is from today’s reading from Twenty-Four Hours a Day.

“God has no reproach for anything that He has healed. I can be made whole and free, even though I have wrecked my life in the past. Remember the saying: ‘Neither do I condemn thee; go and sin no more.’

Prayer for the Day

I pray that I may not carry the burden of the past. I pray that I may cast it off and press on in faith.”  (From Twenty-Four Hours a Day © 1975 by Hazelden Foundation)

I was especially struck with the words, “God has no reproach for anything He has healed.”

Sometimes, I don’t feel very healed.  But is it really about my feelings?  I believe, at least in my better moments, that Christ was God with skin on.  I believe, at least in my better moments, that Christ died for all my sins.  I believe, at least in my better moments, that I need to—and can go to God each day, each moment of the day, for the forgiveness of my sins.  And in that moment, no matter how I feel about it, God does in fact forgive and heal me.

I need to quit picking the scabs off wounds that God is healing.  I need to let the wounds become scars, scars that are as beautiful as the God who gave his life to heal my wounds.

“The Powerlessness of Success”

“We are just as powerless over our successes as we are over the worst of our behaviors. We can only be faithful to our duties and ourselves. The successes, which flow from our work, come and go. Since we can’t nail them down, they may make us feel insecure. Many a man has destroyed his moment of success because he couldn’t stand the powerless feeling. We must return to our program and allow success to rise and fall, as it will.

Today, I turn to my Higher Power for help in accepting success.”  (Touchstones: A Book of Daily Meditations for Men)

I don’t always handle failure well.  I am generally about as unsuccessful at handling success.  Let me explain.

One of my favorite Paul Simon songs is titled “Something So Right.”  It could be the theme song for my life.

“When something goes wrong
I’m the first to admit it
I’m the first to admit it
But the last one to know
When something goes right
Well it’s likely to lose me
It’s apt to confuse me
It’s such an unusual sight
I can’t get used to something so right
Something so right”

I have known for quite some time that I don’t handle successes well.  I had never thought about why.  I think that this Hazelden reading hit the nail squarely on the head: Successes make me feel out of control.

But the deeper problem is not success, or feeling out of control, or even being out of control.  No, the problem is wanting to be in control in the first place, and thinking that I should be.  This has plagued me since the Garden of Eden.

So, here is the deal: I need to give up the illusion that I am or ought to be in control.  But how do I do that?  Giving up anything—even illusions—is not easy.  Giving up the illusion of control makes me feel very out-of-control.

Perhaps I need to pull out an old theological idea from my mental attic: the sovereignty of God.  The Bible, both the Old and New Testaments, indicate that ultimately, God is the One who is in control.  The Bible affirms this bizarre notion, even as the Bible portrays the importance of human choice.  And, of course, the Bible also portrays how often we screw up and choose foolishly.  (If you think that the Bible tells us the way things should be, in some perfect world, you haven’t read the Bible.  Perhaps the first two chapters and the last chapters do that, but there’s a lot of other really awful stuff in the 1185 chapters between those four chapters.)

If I think more and count more upon the sovereignty of God, I can relax a little.  Perhaps then, neither failures nor successes will mess with my mind quite as much.  Sometimes, I start my day with the following confession: God is God, I am not, and that is good.  That is a good confession, no matter what the day throws at you, whether that be failure or (God forbid!?) success.

“Spewing Stupid”

“spew

verb

  1. expel large quantities of (something) rapidly and forcibly.” (https://www.google.com/search?q=spew+definition&rlz=1C1GCEA_enUS844US844&oq=spew+defin&aqs=chrome.0.0j69i57j0l4.4837j1j7&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8)

“He’s just spewing stupid.” (Max, the son of one of my Hebrew students)

“A fool takes no pleasure in understanding,

                        but only in expressing his opinion.”

(God, Proverbs 18:2 The Holy Bible, English Standard Version)

https://accordance.bible/link/read/ESVS#Jer._7:13”

My Hebrew students and I were looking at Proverbs 18:1-3 last night.  When we encountered the observation and warning about the fool in verse 2, one of my students commented that his teenage son said of someone, “He’s just spewing stupid.”

I had never heard this expression before, and was immediately captivated.  That is a wonderful expression: spewing stupid!

It reminds me of another proverb found in Proverbs 15:2.

“The tongue of the wise adorns knowledge,

but the mouth of the fool gushes folly.”

I have often been told that I talk too much.  I usually expend a lot of energy (and words) trying to defend myself against this charge.  Perhaps I should just accept the truth: I do talk too much.  And if I talk too much, I’m almost certainly going to just be spewing stupid.

Oh God, please help me not to spew stupid today.  I will intentionally keep this post short in order to avoid spewing stupid.

“The Perpetual Discomfort of Love”

“God is love.” “John, in 1 John 4:16)

“Love one another.” (Jesus, in John 13:34)

“Love your enemy.”  (Jesus, in Matthew 5:44)

“Love as I have loved you.” (Jesus, in John 13:34)

“In all their afflictions, he [i.e., God] was afflicted.” (Isaiah 63:9)

“. . . the perpetual discomfort of what love requires.” (Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditation,

From the Center for Action and Contemplation

https://mail.google.com/mail/u/0/#inbox/FMfcgxwChSHbTfsDLWjVHvdPRmchKQSH).

The last quote above is from a guest meditation from Richard Rohr’s website.  Rohr asked a mom and dad to share their thoughts about parenting.  Mom got to go first, which is as it should be.  She spoke of “ . . . the perpetual discomfort of what love requires.”

Yes!

We tend to think that love is a wonderful, pleasurable, joyous thing.  Sometimes, it is.  More often, it is not.

Don’t get me wrong: Love is an adventure.  However, as Bilbo Baggins said, “Adventures are nasty things that will make you late for dinner.”  And who wants to be late for dinner?

Still, we need adventure in our lives—even if we don’t want them.  Especially then.

In Isaiah 63:9, the prophet Isaiah says to people in exile, “God has gone through all the troubles that our ancestors went through.”  The implication is that God is with the exiles, too.  Apparently we have a God who is also willing to endure the perpetual discomfort of what love requires.  Some theologians (of a certain philosophical bent) refer to God as “the unmoved Mover.”  Perhaps they are right in a sense.

But in an even more profound sense, God is precisely the very moved Mover.  It would seem that we have a God who has sought out the adventure of love, no matter how much perpetual discomfort there is for Him in that adventure.

It is the same for us.  Love is an adventure, no matter the perpetual discomfort.  However, if we go on the adventure, we will eventually discover that we have a Great Companion—the God who accompanied Israel in its painful quest, the same God who became flesh and dwelt among us.

“The Some/Son-One Who is With Us”

A friend of mine, for whom I am an accountability partner, reported that, despite some temptations, he had done well.  My reply was as follows:

“Well done!  Thanks for the update!

I have heard it said, as you have also no doubt, that ‘God had one Son without sin, but no sons without temptation.’  It is good to always remember that Someone (who is also the Sonone/won) is with us at all times.”

I love playing with words, as you can tell from the above.

But this business of not being alone is not play.  Aloneness (or rather, loneliness) is no laughing matter.  Most of us feel lonely at times—even when we’re surrounded by people.

Addicts in particular tend to feel alone.  We frequently struggle with both self-hatred and loneliness.  To be imprisoned in solitary confinement with someone you hate is double punishment.

When an addict attends his/her first meeting, he/she frequently hears the words “You are not alone.”  Addicts hear the stories of others, and realize that perhaps, just maybe, they are not the only ones who struggle.  They are not, as “terminally unique” as they had thought.  And of course in the expression “terminally unique,” the emphasis is on “terminally”—as in terminally sick.

For those of us who are Christians, it is more than knowing that there are other people who share our struggles.  Christians believe that, in Jesus Christ, God took on a human identity, and experienced temptation and struggle just as we do.

Christians also believe that this same Jesus was raised from the dead, has ascended to Heaven, and has sent us the Holy Spirit.  The Holy Spirit is Jesus’ personal re-presentative.  That is to say, the Holy Spirit is Jesus’ presence within and among those of us who are believers.

Now, I must confess that most of the time I don’t feel real holy-spirit-y, or Jesus-y.  Most of the time, I feel entirely too me-ish.  However, I refuse to dumb down my beliefs to match what I feel like.

I believe that, even when my wife is out shopping (as she is right now), I am still not alone.  I believe that Someone is with me at all times—Someone who has been tempted, who has struggled, and who always stands ready to help.

Jesus said, just before his ascension to Heaven, “I am with you, even to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20).  Either Jesus was telling me the truth, or my feelings are.  I think I’ll go with Jesus on this one!

“Proverbs: More Subtle than I had Thought”

            “Better is little with the fear of the LORD

                        than great treasure and trouble with it.”

(Proverbs 15:16 The Holy Bible, English Standard Version)

https://accordance.bible/link/read/ESVS#Prov._15:16

I am sometimes guilty of devaluing the biblical book of Proverbs.  I have tended at times to think of proverbs as nice little sayings, although they are rather mechanical and obvious.  I say this to my shame.

Over the past several years, I have come to realize that the Proverbs are much more subtle and subversive than I had previously realized.  When I slow down enough to see what is really there, what is really there demonstrates a depth that has the capacity to deepen me.

Take Proverbs 15:16, for example.  Many proverbs seem to link wisdom and righteousness with wealth.  Often, the entire book of Proverbs is read precisely this way.

However, this proverb assaults us with a subversive thought: It is possible for the fear of the LORD (which is considered to be very, very good in the book of Proverbs) with having, not abundance, but little.  And abundance (“great treasure”) can be accompanied with trouble or worry.

So, if I am doing well financially, I cannot automatically assume that I am fearing the LORD properly, and that the LORD is therefore blessing me.  Nor can I assume that if I have only a little, the LORD is not blessing me.  There is no one-to-one correlation between the fear of the LORD and material well-being.

Notice that this proverb does not say that material wealth is inherently bad.  Poverty is not automatically a blessing.  But neither is wealth.  The crucial matter is the fear of the LORD.

Perhaps I, perhaps we all, need to go back for another look at the not-so-simplistic book of Proverbs.

“Falling and Learning to Walk”

“Each time a toddler falls is a lesson in how to walk.” (From Today’s Gift: Daily Meditations for Families)

The above quote from one of my twelve-step readings today reminded me of an incident that happened when my oldest daughter was learning to walk.  We were living in a house that had hardwood floors.  Our eleven-month-old daughter fell a lot when she was learning to walk.  I hated to see her fall on the hard floor, so I decided to “help.”  My “help” took the form of trying to catch her before she fell.  Soon, it became a game.  She would look back to see if I was there.  Then, she would fall backwards, knowing that I would ease her down on the floor.

My wise wife reminded me that, if I kept doing that, our daughter would never learn to walk.  I didn’t want my wife to be right, so I figured that she probably was.  So, I gathered up all my courage, took a step back from my daughter, and let her fall.

I will never ever forget the look of surprise and betrayal on my daughter’s face.

But she learned to walk.

No matter how old we are, we are all learning to walk.  We walk through relationships and the loss of relationships.  We walk through learning new skills and new jobs.  We walk through the labyrinth of our own minds.  We walk through our addictions.

And, oh yes, we fall—a lot.  But to fall is not necessarily to fail.

And falling doesn’t necessarily mean that our heavenly Father has failed, either.  God doesn’t always catch us.  This is not a sign of his absence or of a lack of love on God’s part.  It is a sign that God wants us to learn to walk.

There is no learning to walk without falls.

“George Herbert: Submission”

My wife and I went to a lecture on the poet George Herbert last night.  One of the Herbert poems with which Daniel Strait dealt was a poem titled “Submission.”

“But that thou are my wisdom, Lord,

            And both mine eyes are thine,

My mind would be extremely stirr’d

            For missing my design.

Were it not better to bestow

            Some place and power on me?

Then should thy praises with me grow,

            And share in my degree.

But when I thus dispute and grieve,

            I do resume my sight,

And pilfring what I once did give,

Disseize thee of thy right.

How know I, if thou shouldst me raise,

            That I should then raise thee?

Perhaps great places and the praise

            Do not so well agree.

Wherefore unto my gift I stand;

            I will no more advise:

Only do thou lend me a hand,

            Since thou hast both mine eyes.”

Submission is never easy.  My little dog struggles with it.  Her master, even more.

Apparently, it wasn’t easy for George Herbert either.  He was a brilliant man, who had held the office of orator at Cambridge University.  He appeared to be on track to become a courtier in the royal court.

Then, whether voluntarily or not, Herbert ended up serving as vicar in a small country parish.  And while Herbert had given up his desire for power, he was tempted to take back his desire.  Couldn’t he glorify God more by being in a position of power?

No, Herbert concludes, not necessarily. “Perhaps great places and thy praise Do not so well agree.”

Herbert is tentative.  He says “perhaps.”  Sometimes, when we really, really want something, we are likely to be more open to “perhaps-es” than we are to categorical statements.

But the bottom line is this: Herbert knows that he kind of wants to be in a position of greater power and influence.  But he also knows that this could be problematic.

And he knows one more thing as well: Herbert knows that he needs God to lend him a hand. And most of us could also stand a helping hand from the Almighty when power and influence beckon.    

“Power Imparted, Steady Progress”

            “27 Why do you say, O Jacob,

                        and speak, O Israel,

             “My way is hidden from the LORD,

                        and my right is disregarded by my God”?

28 Have you not known? Have you not heard?

             The LORD is the everlasting God,

                        the Creator of the ends of the earth.

             He does not faint or grow weary;

                        his understanding is unsearchable.

29 He gives power to the faint,

                        and to him who has no might he increases strength.

30 Even youths shall faint and be weary,

                        and young men shall fall exhausted;

31 but they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength;

                        they shall mount up with wings like eagles;

             they shall run and not be weary;

                        they shall walk and not faint.”

(Isaiah 40:27–31 The Holy Bible, English Standard Version)

https://accordance.bible/link/read/ESVS#Is._40:27

Have you ever felt as if you simply didn’t have the strength to do what you need to do?

Today, you say?

Every day, you say?

You are not alone.  That feeling of insufficiency is about as common to human beings as being human is.  If you lack such a feeling, you might want to seek counseling.

But there are times in our lives when insufficiency isn’t a feeling.  It is a dismal, even frightening, reality.

This was the case for those who were in exile in Babylon in the sixth century B.C. They weren’t sure that their God had any power, and that were flat out certain that they didn’t.

The prophetic author of Isaiah 40-66 came crashing into their crushing sense of insufficiency with a bold, almost unbelievable word.  God was powerful, and God was empowering.  I’m sure that a lot of the exiles had a hard time believing it.  God is going to empower us to go back home to Judah?  I don’t think so!

Here are some good words from Derek Kidner on this familiar Scripture.  In this case, familiarity does not breed contempt.  There are always fresh insights to leap out from this passage from Isaiah 40:27-31.

The ‘very present help’. 27 The wrong inference from God’s transcendence is that he is too great to care; the right one is that he is too great to fail (28); there is no point at which things ‘get on top of’ him. But vs 29-31 make the big transition from power exercised to power imparted, to be experienced through the faith expressed in the word hope (or ‘wait’; cf. on 25:9). So the final reminder of human frailty (30) is forward looking; it clears the way for trust and the transcending of natural resources. The phrase renew their strength (31) is (lit.) ‘change strength’, as one might change into fresh clothes or exchange an old thing for a new. It may be significant that the three final metaphors speak of overcoming one natural impossibility and two natural weaknesses, ending on the note of steady progress.”[1]

Our God is not intimidated by impossibilities or natural weaknesses.  God not only has power.  God also gives power to the powerless.  He does this in such a way that steady progress becomes possible.

But God’s power demands a human response.  And this response is by no means easy.  Our response is to wait on the LORD.

I don’t like waiting on anyone—not even if it is Anyone with a capital “A”!  I can help God (or so I think).  But waiting?  Nope!  I can also serve God, even if I serve mainly in an advisory capacity.  But waiting?  Really, God?!  You want me to do that?!

There is an old saying that “Good things come to those who wait.”  Maybe God things also come to those who wait.


[1]Derek Kidner, Isaiah, New Bible Commentary: 21st Century Edition; ed. D. A Carson et al.; Accordance electronic ed. (Downers Grove: InterVarsity Press, 1994), 655.

https://accordance.bible/link/read/IVP-NB_Commentary#8279

“Summer Haiku: Of Thunderstorms and Breathing”

“Watching thunderstorm,

Boiling over western woods;

Child rapt in wonder.”

NPR is having a summer haiku fest.  I sent in the above.  It is based on a real event, which recurred many times during summers when I was growing up.

I used to love watching thunderstorms as they approached.  I would stand outside, near the door, so that I could dash in if the lightening got too close or when it started raining.  I would watch as the black clouds boiled up over the woods to the west of our pond.  If there wasn’t too much (or any) lightening, I would watch as the rain marched through the field beyond the pond, and then across the pond and the pasture that was close to our house. I would try to wait until the last possible moment, and then would run into the house.  Those were wonderful—indeed, sacred—moments.

I had a bad spell yesterday evening.  Couldn’t breathe.  I’ve been on blood thinner for years, but blood thinner doesn’t necessarily destroy the clots.  Blood thinner hopefully keeps the clots from getting too big or numerous, but it does not keep my body from producing them.  Every now and then, apparently, one of them breaks loose.  My lungs seem to be the favorite target of these little internal critters.  I’ve been diagnosed with pulmonary embolisms on two separate occasions.

It is scary to not be able to breathe.  However, to be breathless in wonder is a sacred moment.

Perhaps death is like that.  Perhaps, if I take a childlike attitude toward death, I will be able to watch it boiling up, with breathless wonder.  If I begin to breathe again, I go back to my usual tasks, glad to be alive.

But, if I am not able to breathe for a longer period of time, and the storm fully breaks over me, I will stand still and still stand, like a child in rapt wonder.

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