“On the Sabbath they rested according to the commandment.” [Luke 24] This after having just witnessed Jesus’ tragic death on the cross, and His body being laid in the tomb. The circumstances of life must have been screaming at them, all around them; and that which they longed to do the most—tend to Jesus’ body for a proper burial, had to be put on hold for the Sabbath. They had to rest. This was no coincidence of timing. God had work to do—work that only He could do, and had to do without any human effort or involvement: there was something in the tomb that did not belong there…
Wouldn't it be awesome if all our churches actually spoke about the Resurrection on Easter Sunday--or “Resurrection Sunday”? Perhaps believers could hear a message similar to the one Jesus shared on the very first Resurrection Sunday, while on the road to Emmaus with two of His disciples: “And beginning with Moses and all the Prophets, He interpreted to them in all the Scriptures the things concerning Himself… ‘everything written about Me in the Law of Moses and the Prophets and the Psalms must be fulfilled.’ Then He opened their minds to understand the Scriptures, and said to them, ‘Thus it is written…’ “
"Thus it is written" and thus we must read if our minds are likewise to be "opened...to understand" by Jesus through the power of the Holy Spirit.
Imagine that: Jesus’ first recorded post-resurrection appearance in the gospel of Luke, and Jesus is teaching. Dry theology? Not when presented with resurrection life and power: “Did not our hearts burn within us while He talked to us on the road, while He opened to us the Scriptures?”
The reality of the Resurrection—it’s something we can rest securely in. And this Rest-urrection Sunday may our hearts burn ever more brightly as we once again encounter the risen Jesus in the Scriptures.
Wake Up, You Lyre!
“My heart is breaking as I remember how it used to be: I walked among the crowds of worshipers, leading a great procession to the house of God, singing for joy and giving thanks amid the sound of a great celebration!” [Psalm 42; NLT]
You’ve been there: “I remember how it used to be…” The underlying reality of this statement being, ” ’cause it ain’t now.” The author of Psalm 42 finds himself instead in a place of tears and taunts: “Day and night I have only tears for food, while my enemies continually taunt me, saying, ‘Where is this God of yours?’… Their taunts break my bones. They scoff, ‘Where is this God of yours?’ ” Well, I remember where He was…
Yet the tears and the taunts also produce a thirst. A thirst for the living God: “As the deer longs for streams of water, so I long for You, O God…” The first impulse of thirst is to take us back in memory to a place and time when our thirst was most deeply satisfied. That remembrance intensifies the thirst on one hand while inspiring hope that it will once again be quenched on the other. The solution is not to go back and try and find past streams but to discover present waters.
Likewise our spiritual thirst should push us beyond longing remembrance into joyful hope: “Now I am deeply discouraged, but I will remember You… each day the LORD pours His unfailing love upon me, and through each night I sing His songs, praying to God who gives me life.” And confident hope arises again: “Why am I discouraged? Why is my heart so sad? I will put my hope in God! I will praise Him again–my Savior and my God!”
Sometimes our wake-up call is a song. “Wake up, my heart! Wake up, O lyre and harp! I will wake the dawn with my song. I will thank You, Lord…I will sing Your praises…” [Psalm 57; NLT]
Late one night as I was tip-toeing that sometimes narrow line between painful remembrance and joyful hope, the words of Psalm 57 began to echo in my spirit. My lyre and harp had fallen asleep; my heart was becoming more calloused than my fingers had been. As I stirred my guitar (and my soul) awake again that night, a simple chord progression evolved that began to direct my remembrance and longing into intercession. I found myself praying for and singing over all those with whom I have worshiped (and led in worship) over the years:
Wherever you are today, and in whatever circumstances of life you find yourselves, I pray that you are still worshiping the living God, that you are still singing and rejoicing, giving thanks, crying out to Him if need be. And I pray that your remembrance of our times together in the presence of the Lord will propel you into a joyful hope of more and deeper times worshiping the Lord yet still.
So where is this God of yours?
God is where He has always been: at the place of worship.
Sometimes we connect “place” with location. We have a fond remembrance of a particular location because we have encountered God in a very meaningful way there. But that memory should in turn propel us toward God and not back to a location. The place of worship today is Jesus. He is our worship location.
To all of our fellow worshipers in the Land of Fond Remembrance: We still miss all of you! Thanks for the wake-up call, and see ya at the streams…
Shut Up
No, not a verbal command. A descriptive phrase.
“When heaven is shut up and there is no rain because they have sinned against You, and if they pray…and turn from their sin…then hear from heaven and forgive the sin of Your servants…and grant rain upon Your land…” “When I shut up the heavens so that there is no rain…if My people…humble themselves, and pray, and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land.” [2 Chronicles 6 & 7]
The heavens have been “shut up” so that there is no rain in these here parts. Not just a drought, but an extended and severe drought. Day after day, dry and dusty, the skies empty of clouds, ongoing winds stirring and extending the misery. Even when clouds did occasionally appear, they came with empty promises and left only parched reminders. And slowly even the color itself began to drain out of the landscape. And as a consequence, our proud and willful human hearts have been shut up. We are desperate for rain, and we can’t make it happen on our own. So, umm…we are…you know, kinda totally dependant on…(this is gonna leave a mark)…on God.
At some point I realized that my own soul seemed to be absorbing the drabness of the drought. Dry. Dusty. Colorless. All around me became a well-worn manilla paper canvas. It all hit me one day when I was watching a video clip during a rehearsal at the music theater where I work. There before my eyes were scenic clips from various places in the U.S., from verdant forests rich with colors to snow-capped mountains to crystal clear river waters and more. I was surprised to find my heart and spirit nearly leaping out of my body at the sights. Such a longing welled up within me, as if I had been imprisoned in a dark dungeon and just seen my first glimpse of the outside world in years. What was this amazing response all about?
“In that day I will respond,” declares the LORD–”I will respond to the skies, and they will respond to the earth; and the earth will respond to the grain, the new wine and oil…” [Hosea 2:21] The heavens–the skies, are asking for rain to pour on the earth. The earth is begging for the rain it needs. The grain fields, vineyards, olive trees, all beseeching the earth to bring them forth. No wonder I had trouble sleeping at night–it’s so noisy outside. Then added to all that was my own internal cry for God to send His rain to the land, often issuing forth in audible prayers.
“(A tree’s) roots may grow old in the ground and its stump die in the soil, yet at the scent of water it will bud and put forth shoots like a plant” (Job 14:8-9).
Sometimes your longing is so great that the mere scent of water begins to bring forth life. That’s because God is responding to your heartcry. So what ever you do, don’t shut up…
Even now, as I am composing these words, there is a scent in the air.
It’s beginning to rain. God is responding.
Is it just me, or can you hear the sound of things growing again too?
Don’t Keep The Change
It was one of those little happenings that should not by any means be considered strange. Yet it was. And the reactions were more telling than the actual incident.
We were standing in line to make our purchase while shopping in the big city (well, Kerrville, TX., but then we live in Fredericksburg…). A young man, late teens probably, walked up to the counter in-between customers and asked if he could speak to the clerk at the check-out register. He was wearing an overly large t-shirt and extremely baggy shorts (I still have yet to figure out how those things defy the law of gravity). He laid some cash on the counter and began to explain something about the amount being incorrect. I was thinking it was a classic “hey, you didn’t give me enough change back” encounter, and I wondered how the clerk was going to handle that. But then I heard the young man explain, “I was supposed to get fourteen dollars in change, but you gave me nineteen.” The clerk picked up the small pile of cash, counted it and said, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Thanks.” Then the young man walked out of the store, baggy britches and all.
The clerk quickly went back to business, finishing the transaction with the customer who had been briefly interrupted by this good deed. I wondered if he felt a bit awkward by his mistake being exposed in public. A few moments later the man directly in front of us in the waiting line commented, “Well, you don’t see that kind of thing happening too much anymore.” As he glanced at us we nodded in agreement.
The clerk remained silent.
“Kinda gives you hope for the world,” the man in front of us said next.
Finally the clerk spoke up: “Five dollars in change being returned? I don’t think that’s enough to give hope for the world.”
The man in front of us made some kind of reply to that, but I could not hear it because of the indignation rising up within me. I just knew I had to say something. In an explosion of righteous emotion and great rhetorical power, the eloquent words flowed from my lips: “Well, it’s a start.”
The man in front of us couldn’t leave it alone either. I think he was just as surprised or shocked at the clerk’s reaction as we were. “Yeah, most folks would have just kept the money and walked out the door. Unfortunately.”
I was so proud of the unknown man in front of us who spoke out. Simple words for a small deed done right, but bravely spoken out in the face of cold cynicism. It’s going to take a whole nation full of us doing that kind of thing over and over if we’re going to survive the days ahead.
I was likewise ashamed of my initial reaction to the young man who came back to return the money. I initially judged him by his appearance. He is a young man of honor. And he’ll never know the amazing little chain of events he set in motion that day either: A clerk with too little hope encounters a young kid with too much change and and two customers who try to honor that young man’s good deed.
Are simple deeds and actions like returning change enough to bring change into people’s hearts? By the power of the Spirit of God they can be. And if so, my prayer for that clerk is, “Keep the change.”
Psalm 13: Finally Complete
Well, not Psalm 13 itself--it's been around awhile... I'm referring to a song I composed way back in 1992, the lyrics of which were taken from Psalm 13 (NIV):
"I trust in Your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in Your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, for He has been good to me." (vs. 5-6)
I have been using this song in worship services and various gatherings since 1992, and the Lord has used it to bless literally tens of people. (Okay, maybe hundreds...) But now I have a confession to make: the song was incomplete. I cut out the depressing part of the Psalm and put music to the feel-good part only. Can you believe it?
Sigh... This conviction hit me as I was reading through Psalm 13 again just recently. The Holy Spirit spoke very gently to me about it (I'm very sensitive about my song writing, you know...). He simply said, "You left out the part of Psalm 13 that gives those final two verses their real meaning and power."
Timing is everything. Another time I might have argued (silently, and to myself, of course) that good marketing in the world of worship music disdains the use of minor chords accompanied by non-celebrative sentiments such as, "How long, O Lord? Will You forget me forever?.." While many folks actually experience such feelings in real life, common sense dictates they sure don't come to any kind of worship event to sing about it!
Timing is everything. Today I know all too well why those last two verses in Psalm 13 are so powerful: I have lived through the "how-long-O-Lord's" of verses 1-4. I see them for what they are, and what they represent in our present experience. And I see them because they are in the Word of God. I am so thankful for the honesty and integrity of verses 1-4, which make the truth of verses 5-6 sweeter than honey.
So I am glad to announce that I have rectified the situation by including some additional lyrics to my original take on Psalm 13: "How long, O Lord, will You forget me--forever? How long, O Lord, will You hide Your face from me? How long, O Lord, must I have sorrow--every day? How long, O Lord, will my enemy triumph?"
After composing the music and singing these new lyrics for the first time, a funny thing happened when I came to the original song and began to answer those questions (for they were mine to answer, not the Lord's): I got all choked up. I could barely get the words out: "I trust in Your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in Your salvation. I will sing to You, Lord; for You have been good to me."
The words of Psalm 13 had a "new" power to them. The Holy Spirit was right!