Monday Morning Music Ministry

1-8-24

Some cultural critics and many traditional Christians lament the state of things today. “Things”? Maybe almost everything… everywhere we look… even the future is despaired of. Believers “know the end of the story,” the glorious promises of God, yet among those promises are trials and tribulations, we know. “What kind of world are we leaving for our children?” is often asked.

This angst and pessimism – or realism? – is not exclusive to the traditionalists and religious people, however. This is an age of discontent: radicals, revolutionaries, the “Woke” armies likewise are weary, or rebellious, against the current System and what brought societies to this point.

It is the Age of Discontent, which term is the title of a book of observations by Sigmund Freud. More pertinent is the earlier essay by Brooks Adams, The Law of Civilization and Decay.

Of all the isms that plague us these days, and no matter your place on the philosophical and political spectrums, the strongest is Incrementalism. Surely it is the most insidious. Most of the things that upset most of us were not advocated by us, not designed, not forecast. Yet often we act surprised that certain identifiable decisions were wrong, horribly wrong.

Our temples gradually have crumbled; our swamps quietly have risen and spread. Surely, we – all of us – have been blind and careless, we have grown sloppy about commitments, and dismissive of standards. Like fallen civilizations of the past, we have a subliminal sense of security that we somehow are immune from decline and self-destruction.

In this we are, of course, fools.

If analysis might be useful and lead to course-correction, we should reject the idea that we (let us focus on “Christendom,” so-called Western Civilization) have “lost faith.” It is a point of view automatic among the religious; and it is mistaken. Oh, church attendance is down, and we are confronted by statistics that are alarms to those of who work to resist the drift. But a recent book The Secular Age cited polls claiming that more than half the population does not belong to an organized religion, only a third believe in life after death, 16 per cent in reincarnation, and only half believe in a higher power. (And of course “higher power” these days can mean gods invented on the spot. Or as my daughter says about the current pathology of those who switch genders every week, “choosing to be, or believe in, a hairbrush.”) And so forth, as we all know.

Nature abhors a vacuum. Our problems do not stem from our peoples’ lack of faith, but the situation that people hold to faith in many, many, many things. Indiscriminately. Irresponsibly. Incrementally.

Of course my critique is that Christendom has abandoned Christianity. The “Faith of our fathers” has largely become as attractive to broad swaths of contemporary society as the ties and dresses, dance steps and home décor of previous generations. Christian dogma is seldom asserted in many of our churches. Worship conforms to the latest (and changeable) tastes and demands of audiences. The Biblical “givens” that underlay government, schools, courts, even the entertainment media… are no longer a priori assumptions.

Indeed, Biblical standards routinely are rejected, mocked, and suppressed. So what should we expect? People who believe in everything… effectively believe in nothing. When a society has no standards, we must expect that even “right” and “wrong” are obsolete concepts.

We have a natural tendency to feel overwhelmed by the forces of evil. We are tempted, despite our faith in Jesus and the promises of God, to fear that all is hopeless, at least outside our own spheres. I am reminded that when the Communist Whittaker Chambers found Christ and became a patriot, he wrote that he believed in God, but that – as a citizen in a decaying American society – he was joining the “losing side.” His soul would live in Heaven but his country was doomed. Do you have those feelings?

What I cling to, among many truths and revelations, are the verses about God adorning the lilies of the field, and caring even for small sparrows. Yes, we must know the Truth. Yes, we must fight for our faith and families and future. Yes, the enemies of Christ are many, and are wily and vicious.

It is worthwhile, and daunting I know, to resist. But how often do we stop and remember that it is His fight? God will equip us; the Holy Spirit was sent to strengthen our… faith. Faith. We cannot cast about to find new faith in new remedies. God’s answers are in front of us. If your simple faith in God and His promises sometime go weak, remember that the Gift of Faith is one of the Spiritual Gifts that He has promised, and we can access at any time.

Asking God for more faith, purer faith, mighty faith in Him, is not a sign of weakness. His provision of the Holy Spirit must not be treated as a futile act unless you respond feebly.

Our world might be drifting, and in directions we hate. As we do battle – for we must! – how typical of God that He can encourage us with the simplest, gentlest assurance that His eye is on the sparrow, and we know He watches us too. Let us be happy warriors. The battle is the Lord’s!

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Click: His Eye Is On the Sparrow

11-20-23

Our post-Christian culture has become, rather, so anti-Christian that it sometimes has to distort the past to justify the brave new world. Here are examples of notable figures from history whose relationships to Christ have been suppressed, and will surprise some people.

Vincent van Gogh is generally regarded as the greatest of artists, or among the few supernal geniuses who put brush to canvas. His works are respected and valued, yet his private life often is viewed as sad and twisted; that he was a disturbed figure to be pitied; that cutting his ear and committing suicide are evidences of an unbalanced mind.

Vincent’s life was troubled, certainly. Of many hundreds of paintings, he sold only two in his lifetime. He continually relied on friends and his brother for money. Once when especially despondent, he drank too much and was almost institutionalized.

Yet. Vincent was the son of a pastor, and brother of another. He aspired to be a minister himself, but was turned down by a seminary. He visited missions and charity halls, even once traveling to London to minister to the poor. He was almost as beset by what he felt as his inadequate service to Christ, as by his paintings’ lack of acceptance. I have just finished his Complete Letters – three massive volumes; how did he find time to write so much and paint so much? – and they are filled with Christian references. Until recently his Biblical-themed paintings were sublimated, but there are many, and they reveal his profound faith.

His brother Theo was the recipient of most of Vincent’s letters. In one typical example he wrote of his heart and his art: to paint men and women with that something of the Eternal which the halo used to symbolize, and which we seek to convey by the actual radiance and vibration of our coloring. Among Biblical scenes he painted, many people see allegorical compositions in paintings like “Cafe Terrace at Night,” elements of which echo the Last Supper.

To much of the world today, van Gogh is thought of as a crazy man who cut off his ear. Modern studies have concluded that he did not commit suicide but was killed by a stray bullet. But a genius who was passionate about Jesus and wanted to reflect God’s glory in his art? Our age does not want to know that van Gogh!

Another figure from history whose persona is firmly established is Oscar Wilde. Playwright, poet, aesthete, epigramist, he also shocked Victorian England as a homosexual and proud pedophile. Only after the father of Wilde’s most consistent lover grew enraged, was the writer lambasted in public and convicted under Victorian statutes against immorality. Subsequent to a colorful public prosecution, Wilde was thrown in jail.

There (in Reading Jail, or Gaol as the Brits spell it) he might have rotted. Well, in fact he very nearly did rot. But he did not buck the system nor shake his fist at the bench or the heavens. In books like The Ballad of Reading Gaol and De Profundis he reflected a recognition of his sins – personal and social – and evinced a respect for Jesus Christ. He sought out clergy; he expressed his need for absolution.

Wilde wrote, near the end of his life: That is the charm about Christ, when all is said: He is just like a work of art…The little supper with His companions, one of whom has already sold Him for a price; the anguish in the quiet moon-lit garden; the false friend coming close to Him so as to betray Him with a kiss; the friend who still believed in Him, and on whom as on a rock he had hoped to build a house of refuge for Man, denying Him as the bird cried to the dawn; His own utter loneliness, His submission, His acceptance of everything… the crucifixion of the Innocent One before the eyes of His mother… the terrible death by which He gave the world its most eternal symbol; and His final burial in the tomb of the rich man, His body swathed in Egyptian linen with costly spices and perfumes as though He had been a king’s son.

Oscar spent his last days in exile in Paris, destitute and sick. He had not lost his trademark wit, even self-deprecatory. He complained of the cheap boarding-house room in which he lived: “Either that wallpaper goes, or I do.” Modern studies have focused on Wilde’s earlier aggressive iconoclasm and flamboyant homosexuality, but not much on his embrace of the Savior. Oh, not in these times.

I nominate a third person, or people, who can be in the category of “those we didn’t know were Christians.” Myself. I will explain:

I was at a party a number of years ago. Cartoonists and writers, folks I knew fairly well, but I was chatting with a friend’s wife I barely knew. The subject of a recent project was raised, and she said, startled, “Oh! You’re a Christian? I didn’t know!” Now: she was a committed believer too; and the statement was in the mode of “Oh! You’re left-handed?” or “You’re a vegetarian? I didn’t know that!”

I am neither one of those people; however the point is relevant – I immediately was “convicted,” a truth brought home to me. She knew the professional-Rick but not the Christian-Rick… and there should be no difference. Van Gogh and Oscar were, respectively, celebrities wrapped in eccentricities or end-of-life controversies; and whose reputations were “protected” by those who cared little about publicizing their spiritual rebirths.

You and I, on the other hand, are – I hope and assume – alive and kicking. If we are Christians, that fact should not take anybody by surprise. “They’ll know we are Christians by our love,” a song goes. We don’t wear signs around our necks, and should not have to wear jewelry or lapel pins to announce or prove our faith-commitments to anyone.

We must not be ashamed of the Gospel. We can show love. We can forgive. We can share the words of Christ. We can serve the needy and the sick, the broken and hurting. We can – first of all – confess Jesus as the Son of God; believe that He rose from the dead after sacrificing Himself, taking our sins upon Him. The Holy Spirit will then see that we bear fruit as Jesus intended.

… And soon we will be saying to each other: “Oh! You’re a Christian too? I knew it!”

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Click: Vincent – Starry, Starry Night

3-11-13

This is the Christian story: The Lord of the universe was pleased to create the earth and populate it with human beings. An aspect of His love was to imbue His children with free will, which no mortal has ever failed to use toward rebellion and sin. God delivered laws and commands to His Chosen People, called so because in His plan, when the Law would be recognized as insufficient for a rebellious humanity to be reconciled to Him; that from them, a Messiah would arise who would provide the means of that salvation.

These basics are widely known, even if non-Christians shrug their mental shoulders; even if Christians cease to be in awe of God’s plan, even taking for granted their astonishing inheritance. It has been calculated that the odds of all the Old Testament prophecies fulfilled in the birth, life, locations, miracles, and other circumstances surrounding Jesus (most not disputed, even by enemies of His and His disciples at the time) exceed a hundred million to one.

I sometimes wonder, given all this, why the Christian population of the world is approximately 3-billion; more than one-third of humanity. History, threads of religious traditions, logic, the personal testimonies of those who lives have been supernaturally touched – I wonder why 95 per cent of people do not claim Christ.

An answer has come to me. A very 21st-century outlook might be a matter of packaging, or “branding.” Just as, to me, the upcoming end of Lent will feature too much Bunny and not enough Easter, it might be that the church insufficiently communicates the reality of Holy Week as we look ahead.

Most of us know the stories, and the pictures, of Jesus humbly entering Jerusalem on a donkey, amidst adoring crowds. We know He was falsely accused; He was betrayed by one follower, and denied by another; He was chased down and arrested; He was tortured and abused; He was humiliated perhaps as no man ever has been; He died on a rough cross between two criminals; He was carried to a borrowed tomb; on the third day He rose, conquering sin and death.

As scripture prophesied, He was led like a lamb to slaughter.

But can it be that we place too much of our attention on His submission? Jesus could have called down ten thousand angels to lift Him from the cross, to strike His accusers dumb, to spare Himself the pain, humiliation, and (worst, in my book) the abandonment of His friends and disciples.

We must understand that Jesus was born to die. And to overcome death. He knew the Father’s plan to become the sacrificial lamb, to take the sins of the world – our sins, through history to you and me – upon Himself. From the wrath of God, everything we deserve for our rejection and rebellion, He spares us.

So in this view, I have another image. I know it is VIRTUAL, not the way the Bible describes it. Nevertheless it is true. I ask you to see Jesus, not ambling on a donkey into Jerusalem, but galloping full speed. I remind you that Jesus, at the Passover seder, did not stop Judas from ratting Him out, but hurried him on his way. I suggest to you that Jesus, silent before accusers in the temple and before Pontius Pilate, was virtually shouting, “Come on! Do your worst!” That, until He collapsed, a Man of sorrows and a man painfully bleeding, on the via Dolorosa, He carried His cross as if to say, “Let’s do this! For this I came to earth!”

… and that, instead of being stretched and nailed to a cross, it is spiritually the case that Jesus virtually scrambled up that cross. For us. “Forgive them; they know not what they do.” But Jesus knew what He was doing, and despite the portion of humanity with which we can identify (“if it be possible, let this cup pass…”) He was there for us. He was there. For us.

And then, looking forward to what we call Easter Sunday, we read the accounts of the risen Jesus appearing quietly to Mary, to pedestrians on the road, to His old disciples, to many hundreds of others – accounts recorded by the Jewish historian of the era, Josephus, and by the historians Origen and Eusebius. He quietly appeared and witnessed to people. But let us realize that Jesus metaphorically burst forth from that tomb. In that sense he ran out, shouting to everybody, “I’m Alive!!!” In words of Anthony Burger’s little son, ad libbing in a Sunday School pageant, “Here I come, ready or not!”

Then, and now, Jesus runs up to every person and says, “I live so that you may live also! Believe on me, and you shall have life for eternity!”

Let us return from the virtual and metaphorical. These truths, no matter what the details of their playing out, cannot leave us unchanged. We can make the life-changing decision to ignore Him, or the life-changing decision to accept Him. There simply is no middle ground.

If we see Jesus in this different way – that He was Savior not just willing to die for our sins, but EAGER, such is God’s love for us, and that He excitedly confronts us daily – then we might see Lent in another light. And the rest of the year. And the Lord Himself. And the condition of our souls.

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Humanity’s response to God’s plan, and the sacrifice of His Son so that we might be reconciled by the acceptance of Jesus’ substitutionary death, has taken myriad forms through the centuries. Indifference, sadly; to revelation about the availability of a personal relationship with our Savior; to expressions in art and music. The awesome mystery of this salvation plan often is met by the question, “Why Me, Lord?” We know the answer is “Because I love you,” yet our souls scarcely can comprehend the enormity of God’s love. A contemporary song is Kris Kristofferson’s classic plaint, “Why Me, Lord?” Here he explains to some friends how he came to write it, after he had a life-changing experience.

Click: Why Me, Lord?