Doing What Is Right in the Eyes of the Lord

Doing What Is Right in the Eyes of the Lord

2 Kings 22-23

            Today’s Scripture is two chapters long—much longer than the average reading for a devotional.  I know it—and I don’t apologize for it.  While I usually limit myself to a paragraph in my own devotional reading, I also spend time journaling on it—which is my objective for reading Scripture in the first place.  But occasionally it doesn’t hurt to break the pattern.  I urge you to read Josiah’s whole story.

            In his book, The Bible Makes Sense, Walter Brueggemann says that faithful Bible study is never neutral.  It isn’t just a matter of learning facts about a religion in order to understand it better.  I’ve taught classes in world religions, where the approach is to be as objective as possible.  In most cases the students are outsiders, looking into the unfamiliar world of an unfamiliar religion.  The objective is to learn as much as possible about the religion, while realizing that we are not likely to become practitioners.

            When we look at the sacred writings of our own religion we modify our objectivity.  Our emotional commitment to the teachings of these writings is too deep to allow us to do otherwise.  As difficult as it is to talk about someone else’s religion subjectively, it is almost impossible to talk about our own religion objectively.  We’re insiders, and that won’t change.

            The list of kings of Israel and Judah in the books of 1 and 2 Kings begins with the death of King David.  The Israel/Judah trajectory was downhill from that point.  There were some good kings, many more bad kings, and some downright horrible kings.  The history of Israel/Judah from David to the Babylonian captivity is written in mostly negative terms.

            Josiah was an exception.  He became king in Jerusalem when he was eight years old, and he reigned thirty-one years.  The sacred writer says, “And he did what was right in the eyes of the Lord and walked in all the way of David his father [ancestor], and he did not turn aside to the right or to the left.” 

            When Josiah was twenty-six, he ordered the temple to be restored.  This was Solomon’s temple.  It had fallen into disrepair through neglect.  As the workmen began their restoration, Hilkiah, the high priest, found the book of the law.  Josiah was so upset when he learned how far Judah had fallen away from God’s law that he tore his clothes.  This was his immediate reaction.  His long-term reaction was to reinstitute the law for the people of Judah.

            All this happened in the 7^th century BC.  It was a reformation of the Judaic religion based on Hebrew Scripture.  Although those Scriptures as we know them would not be canonized for another few hundred years, the book of the law was enough to bring about serious reform.

            Down through the ages there have been several important reforms in Christianity.  They have invariably been based on Scripture.  A reform is a return to an earlier form of the religion, but it also involves a new way of looking at that religion.  It’s moving forward to something new by re-examining something old.  The foundation remains the same, but the interpretation is different.

            Martin Luther in the 16^th century, John Wesley in the 17^th century, The Campbells and Barton Stone in the 18^th century, and Vatican II in the 20^th century are all examples of looking back to move ahead.  In each case the reformers were inspired to look at Scripture in a way that re-established the foundation while building on it. 

Brueggemann says, “It is the function of the Scriptures to renew the church and call it to repentance.”  Perhaps it’s time to look at Scripture to see where we should move next—to find out what we must do to do right in the sight of the Lord.

A Matter of Values

A Matter of Values

Philippians 3:7-11, Mark 10:17-22

            Sunday I preached this passage from Philippians.  I emphasized Paul’s self-emptying, as he set aside everything he had, and everything he was in order to become one with “Christ Jesus, my Lord.”

            Monday morning I began my devotions reading the story of the rich young man in Mark’s gospel.  I was struck immediately by the contrast between this man and Paul.

            Paul was highly educated in Hebrew and Torah law, and most likely in Greek and Greek philosophy as well.  Apparently he was not from a wealthy family.  He was a tentmaker, probably descended from a line of tentmakers, a skilled laborer from a blue-collar family.  He most likely owned little of the world’s goods, but he was rich in knowledge, intelligence, and promise.  He studied with Gamaliel, one of the outstanding Jewish teachers of his generation. His prospects were much brighter than his present circumstances.

            We don’t know much about the young man who came to Jesus.  Luke identifies him as a ruler but gives no clue as to what he ruled.  Three gospel writers tell us he was rich.  That’s all we really know, but there are several assumptions we can make based on what we know about first century Middle Eastern culture.

We can assume that, since he was young, he probably had not had time to earn his wealth.  It was most likely inherited.  In the first century the way most people increased their wealth was by decreasing someone else’s.  That may have been the way his family accumulated their wealth.  We should assume that he wasn’t alone in the world, that he had family obligations.  Whether he was married with a family, or responsible for his parents—or both, there were quite likely people who depended on him.

            Does Jesus’ reaction mean he condemned this young man for being rich?  That is an assumption we should not make.  Nowhere does Jesus condemn anyone for having wealth.  He has a lot to say about the way a person’s wealth is used.  He makes clear that what we have should be used for improving the lives of those less fortunate. 

Instead of condemning, Jesus looks on this man and loves him—the only person in the gospels about whom this can be said.  What Jesus saw in this man was not that he was too wealthy, but that he was too attached to his riches.  They were standing in the way of his relationship to Jesus, costing him his place in the kingdom of God.

Contrast him with Paul.  While Paul had little to give up in the way of worldly goods, he gladly gave up everything in order to possess Jesus Christ completely.  Gone was his rich Jewish heritage.  Gone was his place as an up-and-coming member of the Pharisees.  Gone was his standing as one who believed in the law so completely he was willing to persecute the members of this new religion.  Gone was everything he had worked and lived for.

Paul’s letter to the Philippians brims with the joy he feels as a result of his self-emptying.  He couldn’t be happier.  In Philippians 1:21 he says, “For to me to live is Christ and to die is gain.”  Possess nothing but Christ, and be satisfied. 

The young man was disheartened by Jesus’ words, and “went away sorrowful.”  No joy for him.  He couldn’t see past what he had to realize what he could become.

The same choice faces each of us today.  What must I give up to gain Christ?  What roadblock prevents me from completely following the one I call Lord?  What is it that I grasp so tightly that I cannot clasp the hand of Jesus? 

Perhaps most important, which of these two men should be my role model?

The Sea of God's Forgetfulness

The Sea of God’s Forgetfulness

Micah 7:18-19

To ancient humans the sea represented chaos—evil.  There were two reasons for this belief.  First, they could not see below the surface, so had no idea what was down there.  Fish, of course, but what else?  As late as the Middle Ages, maps had the words “Here be monsters” superimposed on the waters of the seas. 

Then there were the storms.  If one ventured too far from shore, and a storm blew up, the ship would most certainly be lost, along with all those on board.  I suspect that might be part of the reason Lake Gennesaret is called the Sea of Galilee.  This body of water is a lake that behaves like a sea.  Although it is shallow (unlike the sea), storms blow up suddenly and rage fiercely.  Remember the stories the gospel writers told about Jesus calming the storms. 

Just north of Syracuse, New York, lies Oneida Lake.  Like the Sea of Galilee, it is shallow. Storms rise quickly and can catch boaters unawares.  When I lived in that area there were not infrequent reports of people caught out on the lake in a storm, the boat capsizing, and lives lost.

The vast majority of biblical mentions of seas are negative.  Seas roar up, overflow their shores, cause destruction, until God calms the storm and restores peaceful waters—for Israel’s God rules the seas.  From the very beginning we see the Spirit of God moving over the waters, bringing order out of chaos.

God also used water to punish Israel’s enemies.  The most notable example is God rolling back the Red Sea, allowing Israel to pass through on dry land.  When the people were safely on the other side, freed from slavery, God allowed the waters to come together and drown Pharaoh and the Egyptian army.

My wife and I have just returned from a three-week vacation where more than two thirds of the time was spent on the open seas.  We began by crossing the Atlantic from New York City to Southampton, England, which took seven days.  We ended by reversing the process.  In between there were a few more days spent entirely at sea.  Outside of the occasional passing ship, or (in the North Sea) a few oil or gas platforms, we saw nothing but water. 

There were a few days when the movement of the water caused the ship to roll a bit, and one day where everyone walked as if they were drunk because of the motion.  On those days it was easy to understand why ancient mariners kept close to shore.  Large waves would have been frightening and disastrous, especially since the ships were much smaller than ours.

My overwhelming impression was of the vastness of the sea.  When you see nothing but water for days upon days you begin to understand how small an area of our planet is devoted to land.  It is the vastness of the sea, more than any other characteristic, that stays with me.

To the best of my knowledge, the prophet Micah was not a seafarer.  Still, he understood something of the sea’s vastness.  In the final verses of his prophecy he catches a vision of the extent of God’s forgiveness.  God will indeed destroy the wicked, but God’s steadfast love and compassion will always be available to those who do what is right.  “Who is a God like you, pardoning iniquity?” Micah asks, then adds: “He does not retain his anger forever, because he delights in steadfast love.”

But the words that continue to resonate with me after our sea voyage are: “You will cast all our sins into the depths of the sea,” a sea so vast our sins will disappear and be remembered no more.

What a promise!  What a blessing!

Vacation

Ken Sipley will be on vacation until July 3.  He will resume blogging at that time.

Selling Out to the World

Selling Out to the World

1 John 2:15-17

          Recently my friend Mike Brower sent me an email entitled “Signs Your Church Has Sold Out to Corporate Sponsors.”  It’s from a site called “Mikey’s Funnies” (no connection).  Some of them were very funny.  Here’s a sample.

Communion sponsored by Welch's Grape Juice

Baptisms include dolphin show from Sea World

The 12 disciples replaced by Disney characters

Scripture verses brought to you by Microsoft

Bulletin has coupon section

There is a credit card swiper on the collection plate

Offering envelopes bearing Visa or Mastercard emblems

Wednesday night suppers sponsored by KFC

Sunday morning televised services sponsored by the FOX network

Church bells play the NBC chimes

Choir robes with the Lands' End emblem on front

Sunday bulletins with the CNN logo

            We laugh because of the ridiculousness of these lines.  “Our church—my church,” we say, “would never do anything like that!”  And we’re probably right.  They’re too far out there. 

            But does the unlikeliness of these sellouts mean that selling out is unlikely?  I wish that were true, but I’m afraid it isn’t.  Selling out to the world, whether by denominations, congregations, or individual Christians, is always a possibility—and it can happen easily.  The world is crafty, and “he who is in the world” likes nothing better than to co-opt the church and its members.  This is the thesis of C.S. Lewis’ The Screwtape Letters, written in 1942. 

In this imaginary correspondence, written by an experienced devil to an evil spirit in training, Screwtape tells his charge that the best way to win a soul for Satan is to co-opt it.  “Don’t try to overpower,” he says, “or argue, or present a strong case for our side.  Just get your assignment to give in, little by little, to the things of the world.  Soon you will have your target so ensnared there will be no way out.”

Nor was this idea new with Lewis in the 20^th century.  The apostle John wrote about the temptation of the world in the first century.  He drew a sharp line between the “world or the things in the world” and the things of God.  For him there was no compromise.  The “desires of the flesh and the desires of the eyes, and pride in possessions” (my emphasis) were, to him, completely antithetical to the things of God.  There could be no middle ground.

Was resisting the world easier in the first—or the twentieth—century?  Perhaps.  There were no TV, radio or internet ads to tempt first century Christians.  Perhaps there were fewer possessions and therefore fewer temptations to possess, but I doubt the pull was any less strong.  The world—corporate or otherwise—has a way of looking so good to us that we find it difficult to resist.  If that’s not temptation enough, there’s always the aversion to looking foolish—or too saintly, or “holier than thou” to convince us to go along with the world.

James was on the same page with John when he said, “Do you not know that friendship with the world is enmity with God?  Therefore, whoever wishes to make himself a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God.” (James 4:4) 

The truth is, falling for the temptations of the world is no laughing matter.  Enmity with God is a serious problem.  But how can we live in this world and not be co-opted by it?

That, my friends, is a matter between you and God.

Letting Our Souls Catch Up

Letting Our Souls Catch Up

Exodus 20:8-11

            I’ve just finished Ordering Your Private World by Gordon MacDonald, a long-time pastor and author.  I’m a fairly organized person (my wife says obsessive-compulsive), but I still found the book helpful.  If you’re feeling stressed and burned out in your public life I recommend this book.  His thesis is that you can’t find order in your life lived in the world until you establish order in the life lived within yourself.  I agree.

            He recounts a story told by Mrs. Charles Cowman.  She tells of a nineteenth-century explorer who hired some African villagers to assist with his exploration of an unmapped part of Africa.  For the first three days they achieved an unexpected rate of speed, which put them substantially ahead of schedule.  That changed on the fourth day when he emerged from his tent to find that no one was stirring.  They told him they were going to sit the entire day.  They felt they had been moving too fast and needed a day for their souls to catch up with their bodies.

            What a concept!         

            If your life is anything like ours you are constantly on the move.  I’ve just finished a semester (my last) in which I taught full-time, pastored a church, and sought to spend large chunks of time with my wife.  As a result, many things that should have been done were left undone.  For example, out of the whole four months I spent one day exercising at the athletic club where we are members.  I didn’t just sit around, mind you.  I was very active, walking around my classroom, and getting in some other exercise, but it wasn’t the concentrated workout my body needed.

            Since the semester ended two weeks ago, we have been trying to catch up on all the work we let go while I concentrated on teaching.  Even Saturday and Sunday were busy, as we hustled from one activity to another.  We, who are night people, found ourselves going to bed unusually early, exhausted from all we had done each day.

            That’s not a good way to live; yet for many people, that’s the routine.  That’s the way every week—every day!—is spent.  How do they find time to rest?

            The answer is, they don’t.  Worse yet, that lifestyle has become so ingrained that they don’t even know they aren’t getting enough rest.

            By rest I don’t mean sleep.  I mean rest from labor—extended rest.  This is why God instituted the sabbath.  Why did God rest on the seventh day?  It certainly wasn’t because God needed to rest.  It was to show us how much we need to rest. 

On that final day of creation, God looked at all that had been accomplished, “and saw that it was good.”  How often do we take time to look at the work we have finished and evaluate how well it was done?  If it was important for God to do so, how much more important is it for us?

Perhaps we’re at least a little afraid to look at our completed work.  Perhaps we’re afraid that, if we stop to look, we might see just how slapdash a job we’ve done.  Perhaps we’re already aware that we haven’t done a good job of it, but we don’t want to admit it—least of all to ourselves.

“Six days you will work,” God says.  “On the seventh day you will stop working and take time to let your souls catch up.  You need time for evaluation, time to figure out exactly where you are, what you’ve accomplished and how well, and decide where you need to go from here.”

That’s what the sabbath is for—soul catching-up time.

Prayer Changes Us

Prayer Changes Us

Colossians 1:9-10

            My Scottish cousin, Ann, sends me some great emails, mostly amusing stuff she forwards from friends who have sent them to her.  Occasionally she sends something serious.  If you were at Graceland Christian Church last Sunday (May 13, Mother’s Day) you heard the one I shared with the congregation about God’s creation of women.  In return I send her my blog posting each week.  I’m not sure it’s an even trade.  What I get from her is much more interesting than my blogs.  Still, she likes to read what I write, and no writer wants to diminish the size of his audience.

            In response to one of my recent posts on prayer, Ann asked a question that pushed my thinking in a new direction.

            “Do you ever wonder if we prayed more we might be more aware of others’ needs, be less sick, and have more patience with the world?  Could it also make us more considerate of others, and less greedy, too?”

            Wow!  That’s a lot to ask from prayer.  But if we’re ever going to change the world several things are clear—at least to me.

            First, the world isn’t going to change unless humanity changes.  Human nature has remained relatively stable—and unfortunately very unstable—for thousands of years.  I don’t believe we’re any worse than our ancestors.  We just hear about peoples’ problems much more thoroughly and quickly.  On the other hand, we’ve certainly not gotten any better.

            Second, we can’t change other people.  As much as we’d like to make them different, we have no power to do so.  We can only change ourselves.  I change the world around me by making a difference in myself.  I can pray for other people to change—and I do so every day.  But I have no power to make them change.  That ball is in God’s court, not mine.  One thing I do know:  when I become a different person—more tolerant, more loving, more patient, more considerate—the people around me change as well.  As my friend Mike Brower says, “Funny thing about that!”

            Third, the world does need to change.  We can’t go on forever hating each other, hurting each other, killing each other—all over differences of opinion.  I believe God wants to see us work for unity in the church, compassion in government, and humility in our relations with other people.  I realize these are not popular positions.  Instead, we want to defend our version of religious truth to the death—even if it’s ours.  We want our government to look out for us but not for those we deem unworthy.  If I’m humble, other people walk all over me.  I’m not going to give someone else the upper hand in any relationship, personal or professional.

            “When we ask God to do something for us, He generally wants to do something in us.”

            I’ve used this quote before.  I don’t know who said it, but I know it’s the truth.  God wants to make me a different person, so maybe—just maybe—I can be of use in bringing about some small change in the world.  That’s what I hear Paul saying to the Colossian Christians.  He says he prays for them, “asking that you may be filled with the knowledge of [God’s] will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding, so as to walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to him, bearing fruit in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God.”

            That’s a lot to ask for.  We know Paul asks this for others because he first asked for it to happen in himself. 

It may not change the world, Ann, but it’s a start.