We threw a lot of traditional holiday parties when we lived overseas. At the thanksgiving parties we often read part of Abraham Lincoln’s Thanksgiving Proclamation. I had never, to my knowledge, read this proclamation until encountering it in a distant land.
Written in 1863, a time of great bloodshed in the middle of the Civil War, Lincoln’s address and desire for people to give thanks for what God provided in the midst of such violence is moving and worth a read over the holidays. It reminds me that thanksgiving in times of strife is worship, a sacrifice of thanksgiving.
I mull over the concept of a sacrifice of praise or thanksgiving often. It’s a strange idea that sometimes seems just out of my mental and emotional comprehension. I know what sacrifice means and I know what praise and thanksgiving means, but the two together pose a challenge.
This year I have much to give thanks for but much of it is because we experienced a measure of suffering and walking through difficulty and trial. Walking through valleys meant that I cried out to the Lord often and desperately. Many prayers and pleas He answered and many He has not. He sustained and is sustaining me but I am not comfortable with my deep need for Him.
To sacrifice is to give what is costly. Praise and thanksgiving in tumultuous times is a sacrifice–it is costly. It causes me to face and acknowledge the good that I know He is and Has done even when there is much more that is not realized.
Ultimately, I notice it costs me my pride. I must give up my idea of what He owes me that I want to praise and give thanks for and accept what comes from His hand which is good, just not exactly the good I wanted for the here and now. I also must accept the reality that He has not come back to take away the tears yet. So the sacrifice of thanksgiving means letting my agenda burn up in faith that God is actively at work to bring about good even if not for me, or not in my time.
I know many this holiday that face the reality of sacrificial thanksgiving. I’m sure those that read Lincoln’s proclamation with their sons, husbands, and loved ones on the battlefield or lost on the battlefield gathered with tears and longing. A feast with tears feels out of place, but maybe it is more on point than I’d like to accept.
Sacrificial praise this year is leading me to a new hope for the future day when healing is complete, tears are wiped away, justice wins the day, and I am with Jesus. But for the here and now, it is thanksgiving that costs me, brings on the tears… and I am thankful that it matters to the One that came to take away our tears one day.
My dad died during the 4th watch of the night. The darkest time before the sun rises. We sat on the back patio watching the sunrise as they took his body away.
The Grand Canyon at sunrise…
It’s usually the 4th watch when I wake up and wrestle with worry and fear, anxiety. Sleep eludes me and hope feels far away. I’m convinced the fourth watch is a time of deep darkness physically and spiritually.
I wonder if Jesus prayed in the garden of Gethsemane during the 4th watch. Was it during that watch that His disciples failed him in their weakness and fell asleep three times? I’ve often thought Jesus suffered multiple betrayals that night.
Was it the fourth watch when Jesus calmed the storms, displaying His authority over creation?
It was most likely the 4th watch when Peter did what he was convinced he’d never do. He denied knowing Jesus three times. In the 4th watch, Peter met himself in a way that crucified the pride that he could never seem to see. He couldn’t stay awake for Jesus and now he willfully left him too.
When Jesus passed by His disciples walking on water, it was the 4th watch. The darkest hour, the time when the storms are strong and the waves are high, and the effort of fighting the headwinds of life threatens to overwhelm them. They look out, exhausted. All the wonder of the miracle of Jesus feeding 5,000 people and the excitement of being sent out and coming back with stories of God’s power at work through them had faded.
They rowed against headwinds through the night and looked up and saw a figure walking on water…and fear overcame them. They thought Jesus was a ghost and it scared the crap out of them, a bunch of tough fishermen who had seen a fair share of evil spirits cast out of people.
They basically miss the object lesson Jesus intended to show them. Calming of Storm + Healings + Feeding of 5,000 + Walking on Water = ?
Jesus’ reaction to them is of great comfort to me. They still couldn’t put it together and instead of peacing out in frustration and meeting them on the other side, Jesus gets into the boat and is who He is. He is Immanuel. God with us even when we fail the test. He calms the headwinds and accompanies them in their fear.
And so in the 4th watch, when the headwinds are strongest and the fears, failures, and frailty pounds us, I want to remember the Jesus gets in the boat with His disciples. He gets in it with me too.
When we lived overseas I developed a local habit. If I came upon a group of people, a crowd, I wanted to see what was going on. Usually something exciting was happening in the center along the lines of an argument or a performance of some sort. I much preferred the spectator role than the center role.
a casual picnic that became a spectacle
Being the center of the crowd, the thing to be looked at, was not my jam. As our family increased, we often became the center of the circle, the spectacle. Our children provided the show. No amount of directing the crowds to disperse worked, in fact trying to drive the crowds away only increased the novelty of watching us. I had no authority over these crowds.
I’m pondering crowds right now as I make my way through the account of Jesus’ life in the book of Mark. Y’all, I’ve got to say reading the Bible need never get dry or old. There’s always something new to see and this time for me, it’s the crowds.
The crowds often gather around Jesus. He is a spectacle. Initially, He heals a few people and crowds flock to Him to receive more. I imagine it as quite the scene. Numerous sick, diseased, and demon possessed people draw here to Jesus wherever He goes. They press in on Him and take great effort to be very, very close to Him and then…miracles happen.
I don’t know about you, but that’s would be worth traveling some distance to see. And people did travel far to see what was going on. In a day before cell phones and internet, word of mouth proved a very effective means to pass along information.
And more and more people drew near…
Jesus constantly extended compassion to the crowds. When he saw the crowds when he was tired, he still extended his compassion and fed them, taught them, healed them. He refused to send the crowds away hungry for concern they might faint on the way. He knew their circumstances and how far they came to be near him. He asked his disciples to pray for the crowds and tried to help them really see the crowds.
Pretty quickly, though, the religious leaders show up and their response to the crowds is a stark contrast.
The religious leaders needed the following of the crowds as a way to hold power and command respect. They laid heavy burdens on the crowds that extended beyond what God intended in the Law and tried to enslave the crowds to themselves. Ever seeking more righteousness, they placed barriers that the crowds struggled to overcome and led away from God rather than toward Him. To reveal weakness or be honest about brokenness was not an option for the religious leaders as they seemed to thrive on the power and respect they gained with their self-righteous distance.
When the crowds delighted in Jesus’ condemnation of the religious leaders teachings, the leaders weren’t just frustrated. They became furious. They watched the crowds and the following Jesus drew very closely. The crowds loved to listen to Jesus expose them.
The religious leaders plotted and struck back with riddles and traps rather than actually listening and investigating. Most religious leaders revealed no curiosity in their questions. Instead, each question or situation brought before Jesus was a plot to trip him up. As Jesus met each situation with searing truth the crowds delighted in the show. The religious leaders’ fury and fear increased. They plotted to kill Jesus secretly to avoid the backlash of the crowds in their ploy to retain authority.
another site where a mob formed when local businesses were threatened because more began following Jesus…
The Roman occupying forces also had their take on the crowds. It seems the thrust of how the Roman authorities dealt with the crowds revolved around appeasement. Just avoid a riot or an uprising. Keep the peace. Most of the time, this was an effective tactic for their end goal of occupying the world.
But then Jesus, someone truly revolutionary on a universal scale, came. Roman authorities pandered to the mercurial crowds and the religious leaders, revealing their true authority. Pilate wanted to act on what he heard Jesus say, but he put himself at the mercy of many other forces. Truth could not matter to Pilate because he was under the thumb of other authorities, one of which was the crowds.
In our day and age, crowds are still around, often physically unseen in social media followings. The crowds are still unpredictable and mercurial, flocking around anything gory or any promise of hope to relieve pain and suffering. One minute they’re going this way, one minute going that way. Sheep without a shepherd.
Like any flock, the behavior of crowds can be mystifying until something comes to herd or direct them. Right now I find myself mystified by the crowds, but also distressed and saddened. I can’t keep up with which way the crowds are moving and why. I see the crowds driven and herded but usually the crowds seem harassed and helpless under some form of manipulation.
Sadly, most that seek to hold authority over crowds seem to be motivated largely by personal ambition.
Who has compassion? Who actually leads with an authority not extracted from who follows them? Who is not trying to gain power for themselves but wants to serve?
Even as I lament our situation, I can recognize that there are many who have compassion and they are often overlooked because they are among us as those who serve. And it must be this way, the way of Jesus, the way of servitude if I am truly to follow Him. It cannot be the way of personal ambition or manipulation, it must not be that way among the followers of Jesus.
And so I am thankful to receive Jesus’ compassion, teaching, and inherent authority because He is the One who saw the crowds, never pandered to them, never manipulated them, but gave His life for them as they demanded His death…for us…the crowds…the roiling mob of sheep without a shepherd.
The kings of the Gentiles lord it over them; and those who exercise authority over them call themselves Benefactors. But you are not be like that. Instead, the greatest among you should be like the youngest, and the one who rules like the one who serves. For who is greater, the one who is at the table or the one who serves? Is it not the one who is at the table? But I am among you as one who serves.
After drawing a bow on Hebrews, I felt I needed to see Jesus again so I began reading through John looking especially for stories of healing. Nothing seemed to make an impression quite the way I wanted. I paused before the last supper scene a little disheartened. I’ll look again tomorrow, I thought, knowing all the healing sections lay in previous chapters.
I pulled it out a day or so later and began reading again and noticed some key words I usually pass over* that begged for more attention this time. Peace. Trouble.
Peace I give to you; my peace I leave with you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. John 14:27
I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. John 16:33
Peace be with you! John 20:19
Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, so I am sending you. John 20:21
Peace be with you! John 20:26
I loved this modern tapestry from the newly renovated Notre Dame. It depicts the hint of the cross found in the story of Abraham and Isaac. For this post, it illustrates the shadowy way we can see Christ in the circumstances of our trouble.
I felt troubled and was looking for the reassurance of God’s power through Christ’s miracles of healing. Instead I came away with something a bit different. The affirmation that the world is indeed full of trouble. The trouble I feel, its real and its expected by my savior. Healing isn’t always his current plan to bring peace. He is the current plan for peace in my troubled world.
Just Him.
It’s not what I was looking for but it is what I need. To know that Jesus is aware of the trouble in the world is deeply comforting. Nothing I bring to Him is a surprise or overwhelming to Him. I may be overwhelmed but He is not.
To know that the trouble is not really from Him, it is from the world, sets my heart facing the right direction… towards the One who has overcome all the trouble I see.
These passages are in the middle of the abiding section of John so the direction to not let my heart be troubled echoes some strong remaining/abiding themes to me. I need to remove the barriers and relax the constriction in my heart that hinders the flow of His love to me.
Most of the time the barrier is that, whatever it is, it is not going the way I want it to and I try to do it myself. To not let my heart be troubled is to resist the lie that God does not care, that I can control things I cannot, that God is not aware, that He is not powerful.
Curiously the final three repetitions of peace be with you are followed by assurances of Jesus’ physical resurrection when He shows His followers His hands and feet. One repetition is a transferal of a purpose and work to His followers.
He says “peace be with you”…look I am indeed really alive. I conquered death! This is the peace!
The trouble of the world is in the waiting for the peace Jesus to spread as far as it can before the final day.
It’s always surprising to me how soaking in God’s word gives what I need. It’s not always what I was looking for but it is always what I need. I wanted a renewed sense of Jesus’ power to heal and I walked away with Him and with the comfort that the trouble of this world is known to Him.
I make some pretty good food sometimes. Last night I made chili on the stove instead of the instant pot because one of my sons observed that the instant pot prevented the sauce from thickening the way it did on the stove. Despite the Texas summer heat, I fired up the gas burner for an hour and made a killer pot of chili. He was right, it was better on the stove.
I could see how a really hungry guy might trade a lot for a bowl of my chili because I have two teenage sons. They can pack it away when they’re hungry and I love that times haven’t changed.
Thousands of years have passed and not much about humans is very different. Hunger drives us today like it has from the time Esau traded his place in the family line for a bowl of his brother’s stew.
When reading this story yet again, it finally sank in a little deeper what it means that Esau despised his heritage, his birthright, his place as the first son in the line of Abraham. I didn’t really get it much until now what his tradeoff really reflected about his character and beliefs.
Esau was first in line from Isaac, the miraculously late coming child to Abraham and Sarah. That family storyline we know was told and retold. We tell stories in our family about surprising events over the table again and again. How many times did he hear how beautiful his grandma was and how she and Abraham left their ancestral home at the direction of an unseen God to go to a land that God promised them.
All the adventures they had along the way laid out at the family meals over the entirety of Esau’s life. Isaac’s birth to Abram and Sarai when all hope was lost for a male heir. Sarai laughing at the visitors and then holding a baby a year later!
The promise and destiny of this strange nomadic family that would have descendants like stars in the sky and grains of sand. The family that the would bless the world. The familial aspirations to greatness laid out before the next in line…Esau. Esau was the one that carried the responsibility to continue the story of the future God showed Abraham. He must have known. There’s no way he couldn’t know what was expected of Him.
Then he got hungry and Jacob offered him a trade…give up the right to the lineage to get this bowl of stew. Give up the inheritance due the firstborn materially and also give up the lineage that would bless the world that God promised. Step away from being the one that God worked His plan through. Step away from your family story given by God that you heard from the moment you could remember…for a bowl of stew.
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What must it take to do that? Maybe Esau just didn’t believe it, thought Abraham was crazy and God doesn’t reach down and interact with humans? Maybe Esau just didn’t want the pressure, he wanted to hunt by himself, be left to himself? He didn’t want to lead and didn’t care about material wealth though later he had plenty.
Whatever the reason, we don’t know from the biblical account. We just know he set his entire family story given by God, lived out for a century by faithful parents and grandparents, aside for an immediate and passing physical desire. Missing the bowl of stew wouldn’t kill him.
He didn’t care enough to say no to his desire for food after a long and taxing day of work.
Hebrews, the book of the Bible that brought me face to face with this story in a deeper way, is all about perseverance and endurance. It’s all about saying no to the immediate desire for comfort and compromised peace to live for the bigger story God is working out right now.
I notice my tendency to despise what God has for me when I dream about retiring. That desire to not have the burden of leadership, the desire really to live for myself creeps up and I think that would be so nice. But it’s an escape from walking by faith in the path laid out for me. It’s a manifestation of my inward belief God isn’t giving me the life of peace I want, peace for myself that isn’t true peace because it’s selfish. It’s just cutting myself off from God.
I’ll say there is nothing wrong with retiring, with laying aside your job. I’m talking about the desire to live just for myself. So many retire from their day job to live for Christ with more hours of their day and energy. That is perseverance and endurance.
I’m talking about the desire I can have at times to bow out of the race because it’s hard. So I get Esau and I also get why it’s so tragic. He never really embraced God’s plan for his family and God’s plan for him so he gave it up in a moment of pressure.
He despised it. So today I reflect a little on that tendency in me to give in when the pressure is great and sell out for a bowl of metaphorical chili. I’m not better than Esau, we all have the temptation.
The answer? Look to Jesus the pioneer and champion of my faith who, for the joy set before Him, endured excruciating pain and shame to win the prize…us with Him. And He understands our pain and invites the needy to come to Him for grace and mercy.
I’ve always loved Hebrews. Maybe its the mystery of not knowing exactly who wrote this letter or maybe its how its put together in a way that just makes sense to me. As I entered the summer months of routine changes, I realized I wanted to change up my morning time with the Lord so I ordered a study on Hebrews (Jen Wilkin’s Better) and dug in.
It’s a fill in the blanks type of guide to Hebrews and it got me thinking about why that’s just so nice sometimes, to fill in the blanks. To have someone else ask the questions and guide the study is filling a need to not ask myself the questions and be the guide. There’s much that I am feeling my way through this summer and the peace of just opening a study guide and contemplating someone else’s question to me is peaceful.
So what am I gleaning from Hebrews? As many times as I’ve read it, it just gets better, pardon the potential plagiarism! The truth of God’s love and power are sinking in again a little deeper. I think the truths of Jesus grace and mercy early on in our life with Christ can feel a little more like flash floods that uproot our former ways. The grace and mercy and love carve a new and disruptive path in a life-giving way, channeling a new path in life. But that early understanding of His love also needs the steady rains of truth to soak in to the ground of our life too.
What’s soaking in right now is the astounding completeness of what Christ did for us in coming to us as Jesus. We had a dire problem with our fallen nature that we always think we can probably at least help God solve when in reality our help is a joke. That God would take on the complete contract to bring us back to Him, all at His cost, is astounding in a slow-soaking-rain kind of way to me right now.
He welcomes the broken and the needy to His throne room, not the one who comes thinking they have something to offer. Not the one who has something to show off, but the one who has nothing is the one He invites. Right now, I sense that neediness and my inability to make myself whole or those around me.
It’s also striking me that Jesus prayed and asked for another way for our redemption to be accomplished and God told the One who lived a perfect life, no. The One most deserving of a yes from God received a no. And then that One submitted and accepted the no and chose to do what needed to be done to bring us back. Willingly, for the joy, for me, for you.
I’m pretty bad at no, both hearing a no and sometimes giving a no even if its in the best interest of the other person or myself. To know Jesus can even sympathize with us when our prayers are answered with a no is sticking with me right now.
Can I trust God’s no? Can I take up what is before me in joy and willingly even when I asked not to have to?
Well, the author of Hebrews knows what we face because he (or she) gives us some great direction in our journey with Christ to focus on Him who endured the pain, for the joy set before Him.
And so for today, that is enough, the blank that I focus on filling in…focusing on Him.
I finished a day before my sabbatical officially ended. As I read through the accounts of Jesus’ life, the historical spread of this good news, then the letters to the churches and finally the last revelation to the church…I struggled to identify what I was feeling. I’ll try to put it together but it will not be linear or logical but maybe I’ll discover more through processing it all.
The letters to the churches left me with something approaching the same kind of confusion I imagine the followers of Christ felt as they stumbled into this new epoch of history. Jesus came, God lived among His creation for a time in bodily form and then accomplished the act that created a way back. Back to God, back from sin and rebellion, back from death…and then Jesus went back to God and left them here on earth.
That’s the plan?
I mean the accounts of Jesus’ life are startlingly full of the followers of Christ just not getting it. Arguing about their own greatness and who was the best. Seeing profound miracles like feeding the 5k and then asking the next day where are we gonna get bread Jesus? I can relate. I hope we can all relate with their humanity.
But reading on in Acts this ragtag group of very human followers is enflamed by the Holy Spirit, God’s Spirit, to continue on the mission of proclaiming the good news to the world. Acts is an exciting, hopeful, and real account of that early church that seemed so faith filled and full of joy. I want to see what they did! I’ll take a pass on the stormy seas and shipwrecks and snake bites though.
But it got hard fast and the letters to the churches kind of bogged me down because that feels like the history we are still in today.
one of the creepier art features at the Met
Folks come through saying stuff that’s slightly off and the Christians don’t know what to believe. The world around us is pounding at the door, threatening, begging, wooing us to follow it into darkness. Our desires for fame, security, stability, acceptance, delight all constantly needing pastoral teaching to direct us to the only One who truly satisfies.
Persevere, endure, be faithful, remember Christ, cling to hope, take joy in suffering, don’t go back, take hold of the literal power of God that lives in you through the Holy Spirit to take each very next step.
And that is what shines through for me right there. Each very next step in this crazy world is needful of the power of God and He has not left us alone in it. We are not orphans without a home, we are heirs of the greatest treasure with a room prepared for us in heaven.
It is strangely enough.
Hope rings in there too because the inheritance and the room, they’re not here. We have no promise from God of a life of ease and repose and belonging in this world. Anyone who tells you we do ain’t reading their Bible very closely.
I picked this one for the light. Doesn’t it feel hopeful?
Jesus desires our complete joy and I cling to that truth as well. In this world, we can have joy but it is found in Him…often as we delight in His good gifts…but ultimately joy is found in the Giver of the gifts.
We have great promises as God’s people, as Christians, that are fulfilled when He comes back. And when He comes back, all that we struggle with is resolved. I don’t think we will care about much else except being with Him in His kingdom of light with all our tears wiped away enjoying His creation as He meant it to be enjoyed.
I long for that day with more assurance, but also tears as I close the Book this time around.
Over the past month I’ve taken a dive back into the 90’s with Rich Mullins. Today someone posted about his words from a song that still mean a lot in grief. I’m not the only one resonating with Rich it seems.
It got me thinking, what makes some words sink deeper, hit harder, ring more true?
Rich died relatively young, a car accident. I listened to his song about how he wanted to go out like Elijah and in a way he did. At least it was sudden. I hope he got to see the chariot coming for him on that lonely road. I bet he did. It’s eery to listen to him sing the song not knowing how his life would end.
His songs are the ultimate American road trip songs. We call road trips windshield therapy and Rich is often our therapist as we speed along past the expanses stretching before us. Like a modern psalmist which I guess he is, he brings God to light in nature.
a current photo from a road trip of my feet where I wasn’t listening to Rich but you get the idea…nature
I listened to Rich on the 20 minute commute taking our kids to and from their last school overseas. During that time, we faced the decision to leave the other side of the world for the home we used to have that wasn’t really home anymore. He expressed the truth I needed to hear at that time in his song of the same name, The Other Side of the World. It still brings tears. It is still true.
I walked and thought and the it came to me that my favorite authors and artists seem to be the ones that clearly have been with Jesus. They’ve sat with Him in joy, sorrow, confusion, pain, and truth and came away changed. They don’t seem to have the answers, the pithy sayings. They express much deeper the reality of the present against the reality of the eternal. I walk away at peace with God even if there are no clear resolutions to current aches and struggles I face in this day.
Because whatever I want to be in this life, I most of all want to be one who has the scent of being with Jesus. And I feel most at home with others who seem to get that too.
So, if you’re looking for a throwback 90’s experience or just need someone to express something true through music, take a look at our friend Rich. He sat with Jesus really well in this life.
Sabbatical started a month ago and to be honest it was a rough start. My husband went down day one with a shoulder strain that took a few weeks to work out. Thankfully it wasn’t worse but we didn’t know the first week if he was headed for a much more intense recovery process or not.
My first wrestling match was with entitlement to this season of rest. Is my time really my own…ever? Or must it always be surrendered to God?
Going from pretty full, active, and social days to longer stretches of time without set plans takes some adjustment. I found myself mentally searching for helpful things to be and do for people more to chase away insecurity than really serving the Lord.
Before long I faced another wrestling match with identity. How much does my vocation define my identity? Well, more than I want and more than I thought.
When I read about Sabbath rest in the Bible, the activities seem to revolve around worship, community, and cessation of activities related to providing for ourselves in some way. It was a time to trust that God provides now and in the future. Sabbath involved lots of fun things like corporate worship and eating good food ideally prepared ahead of time so that no one was really working hard on it on the day of rest. Sabbath was for everyone, men and women, moms and dads, sons and daughters, grandparents, and also those who served.
Rest and sabbath in the Bible is really fascinating. Let’s just say, there was a lot of prescribed rest and partying happening! It wasn’t just priests or pastors or educators that took Sabbatical. Everyone was entitled, actually commanded to take sabbatical every 7th year. Every 49th year Sabbath flowed into the 50th Year of Jubilee in Israel which was also a sabbatical rest.
Wildflowers sprouting all by themselves on my daily walk
Every 7th year, the people of Israel were to give the land a whole year of rest. Every 50th year was an extra year of rest for the land and a year of wiping the debt slate clean, zeroing out any land transfers or debts people made during years of trouble. Each clan got their land back from whoever they had sold (rented really) their land to if they came under hard times. These years were also years when no planting took place.
Two years in a row there was no planting, just eating what grew on its own, trusting that God would bring something up. Trusting that the previous years plants shed some seeds into the Land and God would make them grow. God also promised on year 6 or 48 to provide such abundant crops to provide for the next year or years of sabbath rest.
Trust in God’s provision, then, began the year before the sabbath year. Would he provide double or triple like promised? I imagine I’d be pretty anxiously watching plants grow that 6th year.
The sad reality is that the people, as far as I can tell, never really trusted God enough individually or corporately to take God at His promise and rest themselves or the land. Their failure to Sabbath once a week, one year every 7th year revealed their heart’s true posture towards God. And I sense in myself the testing that comes with resting too. I am pretty sure I’d go with the crowd too.
The battles with entitlement as if I earned rest rather than receive it as a free gift. The battles with identity as if I define my worth through what I accomplish rather than receive my identity and worth as another gift from God.
Then another battle with the posture of my soul during sabbath. So much of sabbath from what I can tell was about indulgence in God and His gifts of community and creation. There’s no way to repay Him by trying in futility to devote every moment to something directly “godly” like reading my Bible or praying. I am realizing that is kind of the point of sabbath too. To receive and rest and contemplate that I cannot and am not required to do anything to earn my way into God’s good favor outside of being with Him.
Noticing God’s creation with photo credits to my oldest son.
I’m sure my thoughts are not completely formed on sabbath and may never reach completion. Sabbath rest never ended for God’s people no matter how old they got. They never reached a place where God felt they didn’t need it. I imagine it was always startling each 7th day, 49th year, 50th year…to contemplate our very real relationship with our Creator God.
I sit here reading a great book, The Pastor by Eugene Peterson, thinking about posting an artsy shot on Insta recommending it to all who for some reason follow me. I got to wondering, though, if my younger friends would get this book the way I get it now at a different age and time in my life?
Would this book hit me at 25 like it does at 47? I don’t really know… I strongly suspect not.
I remember reading about a missionary in my early 20’s and felt so much internal conflict. It was the first time I’d walked away from a biography of someone so devoted to the Lord but who left me with some serious problems. I wasn’t sure I liked parts of her very much. In my 20’s I didn’t know what to do with that reality.
How could someone live for God so devotedly and not be completely likable? Well, now I grasp it a little more, ahem, personally.
As time passed and I contemplated that biography, it reflected back my own soul in all its light and shadows. Grace began shining through because I am that person, not totally likable, but completely loved by God…it’s ok to not be perfect. And God is not thwarted.
Another time I took a book on God’s love to read on a summer trip. I can’t remember all the details but it struck me deeply. I passed it on to a college student on the trip and it was meh for them. I wonder if reading it now after being pummeled by life if it would hit differently.
And it’s not just spiritually attuned books. Pride and Prejudice, when you identify with Elizabeth, reads differently than Pride and Prejudice when you identify with the mother in the story. Warnings abound!
So Eugene and I over the years are becoming well acquainted. Personally I’m not a huge fan of The Message translation when I read except that I love the purpose of why it was formed. My affinity for Eugene comes through more in his whole-hearted expression of what it means to walk with Jesus in our time, culture, and place with the people God’s put around us.
He works against my… American-ness I guess. That tendency to be productive or achieving in a way that silences the Spirit. Eugene points it out and beckons me to be with God and with others. To just be the child of God in the time I live. To be cautious of being lured by the business of spirituality, the fallacy of thinking I can fix anyone, the arrogant focus on achievement and accumulation that can run me off the road towards what I truly desire.
I still recommend The Pastor, but if it doesn’t hit you right now and you’re on the young side, put it back on the bookshelf to gather dust.
Then, read it again in 20 years and see if it hits different.
eternalwaitofglory 