Monday Morning Music Ministry

8-9-21

God can do many things – in fact He can do ALL things – but sometimes He chooses not to. Certainly not according to our schedules. We have desires, but God knows our needs.

When our prayers become demands, our hopeful perception of God might become that of an all-powerful wielder of a magic wand. The Holy Spirit is there to nudge us back to spiritual humility – the realization that God answers prayer on His time… or in ways we didn’t prescribe… or sometimes with a “No.”

Simply, God is sovereign. The fervent prayers of righteous people avail much, yes. Yet our priorities must be to bow to His will, not persuade Him of our views.

God forbid. And He does.

Yet many prayers are answered. Yet we pray in the Spirit. Yet we are told to pray without ceasing. Welcome to the wonderful waters of God’s love – water as a Type of His Holy Spirit; waters where we may bathe and be cleansed; living waters we can drink, never to thirst again. But… mysterious waters they are.

Very recently some of my dear friends have encountered challenges and crises of the sort that sometime cause skeptics to scoff at believers.

We regard God as a good-luck charm, scoffers say. We mostly pray when things go bad, they say. Our “trust” gets shaky when things we desire do not materialize, they say. We rely on feelings, not faith, they say.

What “they say” is too often true of Christians! Can we blame them if they see too many instances of inconsistent faith? Some of the rotten timbers of modern life are “outcome-based” assessments, performance, marketing, ethics, and education. No right, no wrong, only judge by results… which means, of course, pre-determined goals. Outcome-based.

God doesn’t work that way (and neither should we).

But as pilgrims and strangers going through life, we see the rain fall on the just and the unjust. We see sinners prosper. Yes, we seek to please God and not humankind; yes, we know our rewards are in Heaven. But, back to my anguished point, do the righteous have to suffer so much? Is God letting His children (or us, as observers – let’s be honest about our reactions) down?

Not that it would be gossip, but I will refer obliquely to some friends’ recent situations; their identities do not matter. God knows them.

A dear friend who has written a book and built a ministry around coping with a spouse’s fatal disease… has now contracted that disease too. Three different friends who seemed to have “1950s-TV perfect families” are dealing with ugly ruptures. A new friend shared the horror of her parents being murdered, and a few years later her daughter shot to death. A friend, the picture of health and activity, pillar of his church and a great husband and father, underwent emergency heart surgery…

I know that this could evolve into a contest of tales of people we all know, or of ourselves. My point is not how unfair these events are, or how rare. My point is that they are indeed common.

My point is also that such “rain” that falls into our lives should not make us shrink, or fade, or wilt. It is not WHAT happens to us in life, but HOW we deal with things, that matters.

I have shared, here, that my late wife endured trials in her life that would have tested Job, as the saying goes. Job, that is, if he were very sick. Nancy had diabetes, heart attacks, strokes, kidney failure, cancer, celiac disease, went virtually blind (before miraculous healing), broken bones, amputations, heart transplant, and kidney transplant. By God’s grace her faith was strong, and she could say through it all, “I would not choose to go through it again… but I would not trade the experiences for anything.” Why? How?

Her faith grew; her witness – an example to others – was strong; and she learned to lean on God.

“Does Jesus care?” is a question that to those crazy skeptics is at once pertinent, and irrelevant. In a world where we might be surrounded by a cloud of close friends, family, prayer warriors, medical experts, therapists – you name it – I’m afraid we can also feel VERY alone in times of crisis.

No offense to all those people, but humanity has limits. I believe God has programmed Life so that, at the most difficult moments, where can we turn but to the Lord?
“Caring” is a buzzword that can be as counterfeit as it is facile. A substitute for action, assistance, succor, substantial resources… and even then, with human limits. When Jesus cares – I mean, when we KNOW He cares, because He always does – we have peace that passes understanding; health to our spirits maybe more than our bodies; an ever-present help in times of trouble.

Knowing that the Creator of the Universe cares, really cares, about you, puts everything else in proper perspective.

Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty Hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time, casting all your care upon Him… for He cares for you (I Peter 5: 6,7).

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Click: Does Jesus Care?

5-10-21

I have been reading, and re-reading, classic novels and old books lately. I don’t really live in the past, although these days I find myself wishing I could.

But as I get older I realize how much I have missed of life, and in life. Rather than regret this, I make up for that lost time – reading, as I say, the classics. And I discover music of the Renaissance, Baroque, Rococo, and Classical periods of music; and even have been enjoying music of the early Romantic period that I previously disdained. How odd that music of the 1840s can be “new.”

I know that not everyone will have the same tastes that I do, but my point is that we have a vast heritage that most of us never explore and appreciate, much less know. There is an old Italian saying that we cannot move forward without looking back. Truth in irony. “What’s past is prologue.” The greatest application of this view is that it is difficult to know the Savior, and gain Heaven, without a grounding in ancient scripture.

Well. A few of the old books I lately have read have surprised me in startling ways. Two were by Oscar Wilde. In a Christian essay, yes, I will mention them.

First, a true story about him. Near the end of his life, after surviving two brutal years in prison (for morals offenses) he encountered a friend on the sidewalk. The friend knew of Oscar’s impoverished state and the shabby room he rented. He asked how Oscar was doing, and the reply was, “Either that wallpaper goes, or I do.”
Ever ready with an epigram, Wilde suggested that he was near death, and knew it; and the comment was a stereotypical remark of a fastidious homosexual. It was his flouting of Victorian sensibilities in the 1890s, and affairs with famous men, and libel suits, and public scandals, that resulted in his two-year sentence at hard labor.

Some day, here, I shall write more, but pertinent to my topic are the two books he wrote while in prison. The Ballad of Reading Gaol (that is, the Jail near Reading Town) and De Profundis (“From the Depths”) are extremely moving short works. They are introspective confessions, not of his acts, but of larger matters of the soul and God’s loving justice – not what one might expect. He dwells upon the Savior, and understands Scripture, and speaks with clarity through the moral fog and fetid world to which he presumed he justly was consigned.

In his philosophical anguish we finds his lines that Some do the deed with many tears, And some without a sigh: For each man kills the thing he loves, Yet each man does not die.

There are some people yet today who debate whether Oscar Wilde’s last days and last writings were searching for Christ and forgiveness. Yet his earlier fairy tales clearly were Christian allegories; and indeed on his deathbed he had a friend summon clergy that he be baptized, and made confession.

Not the impression history has of Oscar Wilde. Similarly, I have just finished reading three very thick, and fascinating, volumes, the complete letters of Vincent van Gogh. How he produced such an abundance of paintings in his short life, much less the massive amount of letters, is astonishing. History tries to tell us that he was a tortured, odd man, hermit-like and obsessive.

The van Gogh of his letters has constant money troubles, but chats with his brother, encourages other artists, comments on illustrators and cartoonists (!) in England and America, dwells on artistic scenes and painter’s tools… and he talks about God. In his youth he considered becoming a minister; he visited a rescue mission in London; and he was a Christian. Doubters today search for evidence of his occasional doubts, sigh, but once again, history paints a distorted picture.

My theme here is that there was a time not so long ago when Western Civilization – and I mean the arts; not only “common people” – believed in God, belonged to the church, accepted Christ. Of other recent “reads,” probably more than half of Hans Christian Andersen’s many tales have Christian themes. Robinson Crusoe as a character constantly dwells on Christ’s mercy and the ways of God. Mozart’s letters, to his father, and to his wife, frequently referred to God in the most natural way.

And so forth. Not Sunday-School lessons, not religious tracts, but much of popular literature and the arts, and “common” life, revolved around God and the Bible and Jesus Christ. Once upon a time.

Is it like that that today? Remotely? Speaking of “remote,” just take TV, for example. Condense the plots or jokes, the “situations” of situation-comedies, the premises of dramas and… realize how far we have fallen.

We can use another barometer. The man serving as president promised to appoint a cabinet that represents America, but has more transsexuals than professing Christians. An avowed Catholic, on his first day in office he directed that taxpayer funds be used to promote the killing of babies in foreign countries.

And this week’s “National Day of Prayer” proclamation did not mention God once.

We may expect God to respond accordingly.

Even the contemporary culture’s perfunctory “God bless,” uttered as if to say, “Have a nice day,” and unfortunately common with Christians, was not tossed into the proclamation when read to cameras.

In the West, we once devoted ourselves, even in the arts, to seeking, knowing, and explaining God. Today we seem to work hard at avoiding, ignoring, defying, insulting, and denying God. We have crossed the line of even pretending to be Christians any more.

God, You are real. God help us. Forgive us. Help Thou our unbelief.

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Click: Help Thou My Unbelief

I Believe, Help Thou My Unbelief

5-11-20

Sometimes, life’s circumstances can be like viruses. Appearing suddenly… not foreseeable… hard to pinpoint, harder to fight, often impossible to overcome – an invisible enemy.

My daughter Emily (yes, in whom I am well pleased!) in Ireland, with her family, has been a victim of life’s circumstances. Except that she has never fully seen the situation that way.

Onslaught? Oh, no question. She was a missionary, went to the “troubled” streets of Derry / Londonderry on the border of Ireland and Northern Ireland… lost her missions support… fell in love with a local lad in church, Norman McCorkell… married… went to Bible School together… jobs in church and running a retreat center near Dublin… setbacks… Norman’s epilepsy… with two great children, helpless but not hopeless for a spell, virtually homeless but for friends… returned to the Derry area.

Mr and Mrs Job, eh?

Don’t shed tears. Emily merely has pivoted, and pivoted again, starting an American-style food business (BBQ!) that has been well accepted in the city, her jars and bottles selling to stores and homes; her smoked meats selling via food truck to fans and to groups via catering. Emily has been on radio, in newspapers, magazine covers, billboards. She and Norman, a great team in the prep, production, and deliveries, were about to open a storefront… and then, you guessed it, the pandemic hit like a storm. The city is closed down.

What to do, especially with the insane PP rules? One thing not to do was retreat or moan or wait for things to resolve themselves. While making small batches of BBQ specialties to loyal (and hungry) customers, for non-contact pickups, she pivoted again. With sympathy for healthcare workers in hospitals and clinics, thinking the patients and the doctors should have other “angels,” she inaugurated a program for people to donate food – mostly packaged and easy-to-prepare – for the kitchen spaces in hospitals and clinics. For the workers and the over-worked on shifts, tired when they get home, to make their meals faster and special, and their days easier.

The response was immediate and enormous, after a little publicity and word-of-mouth. Individuals, cafes, stores, opened their cupboards; her garage was filled each day with donations. (As I write this, Emily reported that a man she doesn’t know heard about her “Pantry” campaign and ordered 87 Pounds, about $100, of foods from a shop to be delivered straight to her center.) She and Norman, and little Elsie and Lewis, pivoted to encouragement, thanks, deliveries. People were blessed – both givers and recipients. In interviews, again, Emily explained it all: “It’s what Jesus would do.”

All of these activities, pivoting to new activities, is what businesses call Entrepreneurship. It is what Jesus called “Doing unto the least of these.” The least? Taking care of one’s family is proper, prioritized. Then serving others. Good value and good taste and good service when times are good; good discernment of people’s needs and good organization and good charity – many untold stories, the time spent, the generosity of so many – when times are tight.

All in the space of a couple months. Emily will continue to serve the sometimes-forgotten workers. She is taking orders for no-touch BBQ orders for fans of her meats every Friday. She and Norman are looking again at a food truck with which – lockdown or no – they can deliver foods and be alongside events. Lo+Slo, her little operation, is not little, really, and cannot be suppressed!

How, in the face of health and job and housing and now pandemic opposition, does she thrive? She has a saying – maybe not original? Too good to think others have not used it too. It has become her slogan during lockdowns and isolation:

I Can’t; We Can.

Brilliant, really. An inspirational rallying-cry. As I thought of my daughter, admiring her from afar but talking daily on the phone, I thought of Jesus too – but not only of His admonition that we be charitable; He fed the hungry and said that we should exercise love to the needy.

No, let us think of the larger Christian meaning, a lesson, really, inherent in that phrase I Can’t; We Can.

God has reached down through history via the inspired Word and prophets and given us guidance and wisdom. Jesus came that we might have life and life more abundant; He taught, and offered salvation. The Holy Spirit was sent that we can have spiritual encouragement, gifts, power.

With all this spiritual help, we are blessed. Surely we cannot fail to be good servants – serving God, serving each other…

Yet. Consider I Can’t; We Can. Not only in the context of the fellowship of the saints and the priesthood of all believers, as important as are those truths. No, the “We” I think God would have us remember – and too many Christians tend to forget – is the We of the Godhead. God the Father, Jesus the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

How many of us have faced a challenge or gone through a severe crisis, and we pray to God, with confidence (and I hope not pride) – “OK, God, I’ve got it from here.”

That is wrong. The more we know of Him and His ways, the more we need Him, and know that we need Him. The more mature our faith becomes, the more we realize how dependent we are on the Lord. In every aspect of our lives.

Our livelihoods, our families, our homes, our businesses, our health, our budgets. Our patience, our sanity, our resourcefulness. Our future.

I Can’t; We Can. I can’t do these things on my own. We – family, friends, fellowships – are important; thanks. But the We who will see us through is waiting for us to lean on the Everlasting Arms.

I can do all things through Christ Who strengthens me (Philippians 4:13).

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Click: I Believe; Help Thou My Unbelief

7-15-19

I think contemporary folks see a wall of separation between knowledge, belief, and faith. Not necessarily hostile camps of the mind, mutually exclusive; but different provinces. Maybe like summer and winter: hardly the same, but both are “weather.”

However, knowledge, belief, and faith – and other versions of our core convictions; trust, security, even firm hope, you know them all – are really just words, words, words for the same thing. I can know the lamp will turn on when when I flip a switch; but that knowledge is based on a belief that a lot of people know how to make that happen. And I have faith that they will do so, tomorrow too.

These are not superficial distinctions… and they apply to, yes, our core convictions.

In Western civilization in the 21st century, “progress” has freed us from the necessity to have faith any more in many things once requiring faith. Of course this goes beyond religion: and I mean, very much, to have us realize how rudderless, value-less, we have become. We have been coddled into thinking that so-called progress, and intelligence, and science, are sufficient in all things; indeed, that vital aspects of traditional faith… are obsolete. Impediments. Relics of the ignorant.

But we still exercise faith – more than ever. Only in different things.

Governments, politicians, scientists, heroes, philosophies, secularists, the “mind” of the “universe.” Superstition. Self-help courses. Gurus, not God. At the end, however, we all still believe in things; we all have faith in something. Or other.

It surprises some people to know that the mighty Reformer Martin Luther, during the Renaissance and at the cusp of the Age of Enlightenment, declared that Reason is the enemy of Faith.

As we fight against the greatest surge of slavery in history; as we face oppression and abuse and heartache in our midst; as we wipe our hands of the blood of the previous century’s myriad slaughters… let us think for at least a moment where Human Reason, unleashed for 500 years, has gotten us.

Another figure of faith, an example of embracing faith in the face of the world’s certainties, and hostility, also speaks through the centuries:

To sacrifice what you are, and to live without belief, is a fate more terrible than dying.
– Joan of Arc

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Click: I Believe; Help Thou My Unbelief

12-30-13

When I have visited Bologna through the years, mostly to attend the International Children’s Book Fair, I stayed at an ancient villa outside the city. Its site went back to pre-Christian Roman days; it is named “Torre di Iano” – Tower (or castle or fortress) of Janus, the Roman god of new beginnings; of transitions; of endings and commencements. The grounds were beautiful, patrolled, believe it or not, by peacocks. The twenty-somethings who bought the decaying structure restored it to a comfortable hotel and restaurant status one room at a time, one floor tile at a time.

Iano. Jano. Janus – the two-faced god invented by the Romans, looking backward and forward. It is where we get the name for the month January, representing the year ending and the year beginning.

Thank God (not Jupiter) that we have a Lord who is never two-faced! He is, on the contrary, the fullness of creation, the Alpha and the Omega – who is, the Bible tells us, “the same yesterday, today, and forever.” He is constant, reliable, the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Remember this on New Year’s Eve, through your New Year’s resolutions, whether (or how soon) you break them. We mortals always do.

In fact the new calendar gives us reason to think of Jesus anew – not because He takes to Himself a new or changing set of characteristics… but because He doesn’t. This is a remarkable attribute. A God who is faithful even when we are not. A God who is invariable. A God who is an ever-present refuge in times of trouble. A God who is just but merciful, and whose promises are forever.

… a God who doesn’t break HIS resolutions, even when, as surely we will, we try and fail, try and fail ourselves. A one-faced God, whom we see through Jesus, the “image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation.”

Happy new year!

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The composer Vep Ellis wrote a gospel song with the same title as a beloved ancient hymn, that is no less beloved or impactful. “The Love of God” speaks to the Lord’s never-changing faithfulness and His eternal worthiness as an object of our devotion. The Gaither Vocal Band sings:

Click: The Love of God