Tag Archives: Comfort

Comforted to be a Comfort

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.
2 Corinthians 1:3-4 (NIV)

I was in the middle of one of the most intense times of pressure I’ve ever experience in my entire life. Amidst the pressure cooker, I sat down with a wise man of God I’d never personally spoken to before. I shared with him my present circumstances and my emotions. He was kind in listening. I was then surprised when he didn’t really comment on my circumstances or my troubled heart. He simply and gently said, “Someday, you are going to encounter someone who is going through similar circumstances. When that happens, God is going to use you to walk with them through it.”

Just five years later, his prophetic words came true.

Over the past few years, our local gathering of believers has gone through a major season of leadership transition. As part of the change, a major undertaking took place to articulate our mission in this next season. It goes like this: “Every one, every day, helping one another experience life-giving freedom in Jesus.”

I’ve spent a lot of time meditating on this mission statement, and it came to mind this morning as I read the opening of Paul’s letter to the believers in Corinth. Paul had been in a season of intense troubles. So intense, in fact, that he says he despaired of life itself. Yet, amidst these troubles he says that he learned not to rely on his own personal resources, but to rely on “the God of all comfort.” He also shares that the experience of divine comfort amidst life’s troubles had the divine purpose of helping others when they are going through similar troubles.

Someday, you are going to encounter someone who is going through similar circumstances. When that happens, God is going to use you to walk with them through it.”

In the quiet this morning, I’m thinking back to the intensity of that season of life and am grateful that it is now a distant memory. I’m thinking about the life-long friend I made when I found myself helping another person through similar troubles. I’m mindful that he, in turn, has similarly helped others through similar circumstances. This is how the body of believers is designed to operate.

“Every one, every day, helping one another experience life-giving freedom in Jesus.”

I’ve learned along my life journey that there are spiritual purposes in the pains I experience. Navigating trials, troubles, and difficult circumstances are requisites for spiritual maturity. The purpose doesn’t end with my spiritual maturity, however. That is just the beginning. As I experience God’s grace, comfort, peace, joy, and faithfulness through difficult seasons, I am equipped and called to help others do the same.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

These chapter-a-day blog posts are also available via podcast on all major podcast platforms including Apple, Google, and Spotify! Simply go to your podcast platform and search for “Wayfarer Tom Vander Well.” If it’s not on your platform, please let me know!

Best of ’24: #1 Filet-o’-Fish or Flesh & Blood?

Filet-o'-Fish or Flesh & Blood? (CaD Jhn 6) Wayfarer

“Very truly I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw the signs I performed but because you ate the loaves and had your fill.”
John 6:26 (NIV)

The further I’ve progressed in my spiritual journey the more I have come to believe that today’s chapter contains among the most critical messages that Jesus uttered in His earthly ministry.

John begins the chapter with two of the seven signs he chose to write about as he thematically presents Jesus to his readers. First, Jesus miraculously turns a couple of loaves and a few fish into an all-you-can-eat filet-o-fish feast for a crowd of thousands. That night, as The Twelve are making their way across the Sea of Galilee in stormy seas, Jesus walks on water to join them. They end up back in Capernaum, Jesus’ base of operations on the north shore of Galilee.

Meanwhile, the crowd of thousands who enjoyed the filet-o-fish woke up the next day to find that Jesus was nowhere to be found. It was common knowledge that Jesus always returned to Capernaum, so the thousands decided to hoof it in that direction. Sure enough, they find Jesus teaching in the synagogue there.

The conversation that follows is what I find to be most critical. John had already made a point that Jesus did not allow Himself to be swayed by the fame and popularity His signs created amongst the crowds. Back in chapter two John wrote, “Jesus would not entrust Himself to [the crowds], for He knew all people.” That’s a key piece in understanding Jesus’ conversation with the crowd in today’s chapter.

The crowd begins by questioning the fact that Jesus had left them for Capernaum without telling them where He was going. Jesus responds by questioning their motive for following Him, and this is the critical piece. Jesus told Nicodemus back in the third chapter that “flesh gives birth to flesh and Spirit gives birth to spirit.” Jesus now unpacks how spiritually important that distinction really is. The crowds are focused, not on God’s eternal kingdom, but on their earthly appetites. Their focus is on making Jesus king and getting free fish sandwiches for life. Jesus is focused on helping people understand that He came, not to feed the stomach, but to feed the soul. “The Spirit gives life,” He says. “The flesh counts for nothing.” He tells the crowd that from that point on, the only feast He will be providing is his flesh to eat and his blood to drink as he foreshadows His last supper and the sacrament of Communion which He will eventually leave for His followers.

I find the progression of the crowd’s attitude to be telling. It is so like a crowd. They move from eagerly seeking out the trending Jesus to trying to manipulate Him into more free food (vss 10-11) to grumbling about Him (vs. 41) to turning on one another and sharply arguing (vs 52). Eventually, the crowd walks away and stops following Jesus (vs. 66).

As a disciple of Jesus, this entire episode calls my own motives into question. Why am I following Jesus? Why do I go to church? Why would I wear the label “Christian?” Show? Spectacle? Tradition? Family Pressure? Duty? Obligation? Keeping up social appearances? Living up to someone else’s expectations? Being a good example to the kiddos? Community?

As I meditated on the crowd begging for more free lunches, I couldn’t help but remember the hated Samaritans who only needed to hear Jesus’ words and they believed. I think there is something about the Samaritans being the suffering and persecuted outcast that identifies with Jesus’ true mission which was not to be an earthly king feeding His posse’s earthly appetites, but to be a suffering servant sacrificing flesh and blood to bring eternal spiritual provision to starving, emaciated, and dying human souls. “The crowd,” on the other hand, were Jesus’ own people, and they failed to get it. John already foreshadowed this in his epic prologue: “He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him.”

In the quiet this morning, I find myself pondering Jesus’ continuous message to His most intimate followers:

“They hate me. They will hate you, too.”

Get ready for persecution.”

In this world, you will have trouble.”

“Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. “

“They will put you out of the synagogue; in fact, the time is coming when anyone who kills you will think they are offering a service to God.”

This begs the question: Am I a filet-o-fish follower, or am I a flesh-and-blood follower?

It’s a question worth pondering. Jesus made it abundantly clear that the answer makes a difference.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

These chapter-a-day blog posts are also available via podcast on all major podcast platforms including Apple, Google, and Spotify! Simply go to your podcast platform and search for “Wayfarer Tom Vander Well.” If it’s not on your platform, please let me know!

Trust the Story

Trust the Story (CaD Ezk 17) Wayfarer

“‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says: I myself will take a shoot from the very top of a cedar and plant it; I will break off a tender sprig from its topmost shoots and plant it on a high and lofty mountain.’
Ezekiel 17:22 (NIV)

As I write this, the 2024 Presidential election is 47 days away. Yesterday morning, Wendy and I found ourselves finding other news to read. We are so tired of reading about the election and the prognostications about what will or won’t happen if one candidate or the other wins. There’s also the daily clairvoyant journalistic pieces about our enemies and what they must be thinking and preparing for should one candidate or the other win. It reminds me of 2004 when The Guardian published a piece about official predictions that in less than 20 years major European cities will drown under rising seas and Britain will become a Siberian-like climate. Well, it’s now 2024.

Editors know fortune telling and doomsday predictions always make good click-bait.

The political intrigue is, of course, real. Nations and empires are always posturing and looking out for their own interests. This has always been true in human history. Ezekiel’s prophetic message in today’s chapter is predicated on it.

Jerusalem and the nation of Judah happened to lie right at the crossroads between empires. Egypt to the southwest, Babylon and Assyria to the northeast, and the infant Greek and Roman empires soon to be birthed to the northwest. Empires, of course, compete with one another in a global game of King of the Mountain to control the most territory and wealth. As Ezekiel is writing the two super powers are Babylon and Egypt. Babylon has the upper-hand and Jerusalem is a vassal state of the Babylonian empire with a treaty to be loyal subjects.

The king in Jerusalem is a man named Zedekiah. He’s playing political poker and has gone all-in with Egypt, breaking his treaty with Babylon. Interesting to note that some scholars claim that treaties like that between the king of Babylon and the King of Judah were vows made to their respective deities, such as, “May my Lord slay me if I break this treaty.”

What’s fascinating about Ezekiel and the other prophets of his day, is that God is spiritually at work behind the scenes of the history taking place. The book of Daniel makes it clear that God is at work in the person of Babylon’s King Nebuchadnezzar. God is taking an intimate interest in the individuals and the empires.

In today’s chapter, Zeke’s message is an allegory addressing Zedekiah’s betrayal of his treaty with Nebuchadnezzar. God takes Zed’s betrayal personally and considers that Zed had broken a covenant with God himself, lending credence to the notion that when he swore an oath of loyalty to Nebuchadnezzar it was an oath made to the Lord. Once again, Zeke is delivering bad news. Jerusalem and Zedekiah will pay the consequences for Zedekiah’s bad gamble.

For the second chapter in a row, however, Zeke’s message ends with a Messianic prophecy of hope. God declares that He Himself will plant a sprig on top of the mountains of Israel that will grow into a proverbial Tree of Life. It’s branches will bear fruit (sound familiar?) and “bird of every kind” will nest in it and find shelter in its branches.

As a disciple of Jesus, I once again find in Ezekiel’s prophetic message some comfort in our own crazy political climate. I do believe that all of human history is part of the ebb and flow of the Great Story that God has authored from Genesis to Revelation. I do believe as a disciple of Jesus that my citizenship is ultimately in God’s Kingdom, and that I have a responsibility on this earthly journey to respect the human authority under which I reside. I’m called to honorably live and participate as a citizen. If I really believe what I say I believe, then I can trust that no matter what happens 47 days from now it is part of the Story.

I trust the Story.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Shepherd and Sheep

Shepherd and Sheep (CaD Jhn 10) Wayfarer

“I am the good shepherd; I know my sheep and my sheep know me…”
John 10:14 (NIV)

I mentioned in previous posts that John’s account of Jesus’ story is put together thematically, and John chooses seven miraculous signs of Jesus to introduce us, his audience, to Jesus. Seven is not an arbitrary number. Throughout the Great Story, the number seven is repeatedly used and indicates completeness. At the very beginning, in Genesis, God creates everything in seven days, calls it good, and establishes a complete week. In Revelation, the final judgments come in three sets of seven, where three represents the divinity of the judgments and seven indicates their completeness.

John also chooses to share seven metaphors and “I am” statements that Jesus used about Himself:

“I am the Bread of Life.”
“I am the Light of the World.”
“I am the Gate.”
“I am the Good Shepherd.”
“I am the Resurrection and the Life.”
“I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life.”
“I am the True Vine.”

These metaphors are not confined to Jesus’ declaration as each has deep connections throughout the Great Story.

The metaphor Jesus uses in today’s chapter is that of the Good Shepherd. Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob/Israel were shepherds and Israel referred to God as the Shepherd of their lives. Moses was a shepherd. David was a shepherd. The prophets repeatedly referred to the kings of Israel and Judah as the appointed shepherds of God’s people. Jesus repeatedly used the metaphor of the Shepherd and sheep in His parables. In Revelation, Jesus is referred to as the Shepherd who leads His sheep to springs of living water. In claiming to be the Good Shepherd, Jesus is channeling the metaphorical thread that God has woven throughout the Great Story itself from beginning to end.

As I meditate on the metaphor of Jesus being the Good Shepherd, I can’t help but focus on David’s famous lyrics in the 23rd Psalm. As a life-long follower of Jesus, the opening line is particularly poignant: “The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.” There is a relationship and intimacy between the Good Shepherd and His sheep. The Shepherd is a provider, protector, and guide. The Shepherd knows and calls each sheep by name. The Shepherd will leave the flock to find one lost sheep. When predators attack, the Shepherd will lay down his life for them.

Having grown up on a small farm, Wendy loves to reminisce about the sheep and lambs they raised and cared for. “They’re so dumb,” she tells me. This fact also gets added to the mix as I meditate in the quiet this morning. It’s easy to observe people, recount my own poor choices in life, and conclude that people are “dumb” too. I present myself as Exhibit A. We wander aimlessly through life, afraid, threatened, and needy. “Like sheep without a Shepherd,” is what the ancient prophets liked to say.

In the quiet this morning, I find myself comforted as I think about the Lord being my Shepherd. I am currently in a season of life in which many things are uncertain. It’s easy to feel fear and anxiety. Then I look back at my entire life and can easily recount the many ways that God has always led, directed, provided, and protected me. He has been a Good Shepherd to this dumb sheep, and I can trust Him to continue being so. It’s who Jesus is. He said it Himself.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Filet-o’-Fish or Flesh & Blood?

Filet-o'-Fish or Flesh & Blood? (CaD Jhn 6) Wayfarer

“Very truly I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw the signs I performed but because you ate the loaves and had your fill.”
John 6:26 (NIV)

The further I’ve progressed in my spiritual journey the more I have come to believe that today’s chapter contains among the most critical messages that Jesus uttered in His earthly ministry.

John begins the chapter with two of the seven signs he chose to write about as he thematically presents Jesus to his readers. First, Jesus miraculously turns a couple of loaves and a few fish into an all-you-can-eat filet-o-fish feast for a crowd of thousands. That night, as The Twelve are making their way across the Sea of Galilee in stormy seas, Jesus walks on water to join them. They end up back in Capernaum, Jesus’ base of operations on the north shore of Galilee.

Meanwhile, the crowd of thousands who enjoyed the filet-o-fish woke up the next day to find that Jesus was nowhere to be found. It was common knowledge that Jesus always returned to Capernaum, so the thousands decided to hoof it in that direction. Sure enough, they find Jesus teaching in the synagogue there.

The conversation that follows is what I find to be most critical. John had already made a point that Jesus did not allow Himself to be swayed by the fame and popularity His signs created amongst the crowds. Back in chapter two John wrote, “Jesus would not entrust Himself to [the crowds], for He knew all people.” That’s a key piece in understanding Jesus’ conversation with the crowd in today’s chapter.

The crowd begins by questioning the fact that Jesus had left them for Capernaum without telling them where He was going. Jesus responds by questioning their motive for following Him, and this is the critical piece. Jesus told Nicodemus back in the third chapter that “flesh gives birth to flesh and Spirit gives birth to spirit.” Jesus now unpacks how spiritually important that distinction really is. The crowds are focused, not on God’s eternal kingdom, but on their earthly appetites. Their focus is on making Jesus king and getting free fish sandwiches for life. Jesus is focused on helping people understand that He came, not to feed the stomach, but to feed the soul. “The Spirit gives life,” He says. “The flesh counts for nothing.” He tells the crowd that from that point on, the only feast He will be providing is his flesh to eat and his blood to drink as he foreshadows His last supper and the sacrament of Communion which He will eventually leave for His followers.

I find the progression of the crowd’s attitude to be telling. It is so like a crowd. They move from eagerly seeking out the trending Jesus to trying to manipulate Him into more free food (vss 10-11) to grumbling about Him (vs. 41) to turning on one another and sharply arguing (vs 52). Eventually, the crowd walks away and stops following Jesus (vs. 66).

As a disciple of Jesus, this entire episode calls my own motives into question. Why am I following Jesus? Why do I go to church? Why would I wear the label “Christian?” Show? Spectacle? Tradition? Family Pressure? Duty? Obligation? Keeping up social appearances? Living up to someone else’s expectations? Being a good example to the kiddos? Community?

As I meditated on the crowd begging for more free lunches, I couldn’t help but remember the hated Samaritans who only needed to hear Jesus’ words and they believed. I think there is something about the Samaritans being the suffering and persecuted outcast that identifies with Jesus’ true mission which was not to be an earthly king feeding His posse’s earthly appetites, but to be a suffering servant sacrificing flesh and blood to bring eternal spiritual provision to starving, emaciated, and dying human souls. “The crowd,” on the other hand, were Jesus’ own people, and they failed to get it. John already foreshadowed this in his epic prologue: “He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him.”

In the quiet this morning, I find myself pondering Jesus’ continuous message to His most intimate followers:

“They hate me. They will hate you, too.”

Get ready for persecution.”

In this world, you will have trouble.”

“Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. “

“They will put you out of the synagogue; in fact, the time is coming when anyone who kills you will think they are offering a service to God.”

This begs the question: Am I a filet-o-fish follower, or am I a flesh-and-blood follower?

It’s a question worth pondering. Jesus made it abundantly clear that the answer makes a difference.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

New

New (CaD Ps 96) Wayfarer

Sing to the Lord a new song…
Psalm 96:1 (NIV)

It’s a new year, and it is very common for individuals to use the transition from one year to the next to hit the “reset” button on life in different ways. So, it’s a bit of synchronicity to have today’s chapter, Psalm 96, start out with a call to “Sing a new song.”

In ancient Hebrew society, it was common to call on “new songs” to commemorate or celebrate certain events including military triumphs, new monarchs being coronated, or a significant national or community event.

Throughout the Great Story, “new” is a repetitive theme. In fact, if you step back and look at the Great Story from a macro level, doing something “new” is a part of who God is. God is always acting, always creating, always moving, always transforming things. When God created everything at the beginning of the Great Story, it was something new. When God called Abram He was doing something new. When Abram became Abraham it was something new. When Simon became Peter it was something new. When Jesus turned fishermen into “fishers of men” it was something new.

See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”
Isaiah 43:19

“I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.”
Ezekiel 36:26

“The days are coming,” declares the Lord, “New wine will drip from the mountains and flow from all the hills…”
Amos 9:13

“And no one pours new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise, the new wine will burst the skins; the wine will run out and the wineskins will be ruined.”
Luke 5:37

“A new command I give you: Love one another.”
John 13:34

..after the supper [Jesus] took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for you.”
Luke 22:20

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!
2 Corinthians 5:17

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and there was no longer any sea.
Revelation 21:1

He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!”
Revelation 21:5

Along my life journey, I’ve observed that most human beings struggle with real change. A new gadget? Cool! A new release from my favorite author? Awesome. A new restaurant in town I can try? I’m there! But if it comes to a change that messes with my routine, a change that requires something from me, or a change that brings discomfort, then I will avoid it like the plague. Why? I like things that are comfortable, routine, and easy.

What I’ve observed is that “new” is always considered better as long as I think it will makes things easier or better for me. If it will rock my world, create discomfort, or expect something of me outside of my comfort zone, then I think I’ll cling to the “old” thing that I know and love, thank you very much.

And thus, most New Year’s resolutions sink down the drain of good intentions.

In the quiet today, I’m reminded of C.S. Lewis’ classic, The Great Divorce, in which a bus full of people in purgatory visit the gates of heaven. There they are given every opportunity to accept the invitation to enter into the new thing God has for them on the other side. One individual after another finds a reason to stick with the drab, gray, lifeless existence they know and with which they are comfortable.

As a follower of Jesus, I embraced the reality that I follow and serve a Creator who is never finished creating. “New” is an always part of the program. It may not always be comfortable, but it’s always good.

As long as I am on this earthly journey, I pray that I will choose into and embrace the new things into which God is always leading me.

The Predicate

The Predicate (CaD Ps 23) Wayfarer

The Lord is my shepherd…
Psalm 23:1 (NRSVCE)

What is there to say about, arguably, the most well-known passage of the Great Story? Books have been written about it. It is recited incessantly by millions of believers every day. I think it may have been read at every funeral I’ve ever attended. Our local gathering of Jesus’ followers did an entire series of messages on it. It has been explained, dissected, put to music, memorized, and printed on more trinkets, bookmarks, and wall plaques than any other text of the Great Story.

In the quiet this morning, as I meditated on the text, my soul landed on the opening five words: The Lord is my shepherd….

That’s the phrase that gets quickly forgotten when I recite it. I want to get to the green pastures and quiet waters part, because my soul desperately needs rest. I want to get to the restoration of soul because weariness seems to be its constant reality. I want to get to that comforting part, though I don’t know how a staff could do that. I just know that I really want to be comforted in the midst of a world that churns and blares with endless messages that create fear, anxiety, confusion, and depression in me. I want to get to the goodness and mercy, because I secretly hold in my faults, mistakes, flaws, and insecurities and the guilt, the shame, is sometimes debilitating.

As I read through David’s most well-known lyrics for the millionth time, this is what comes to mind. Everything described from the rest to the restoration, the anointing, the overflow of blessing, the kindness, the mercy, the homecoming, and safe dwelling, all of it is predicated on this One Thing: The Lord is my Shepherd.

But, is He?

Who is Shepherding me?

Is it possible that I could be allowing myself to be “shepherded” by another human being, a religious institution, a teacher, a university, a parent, a government, a political party, a screen, a device, a drug, a drink, a dream, a job, an appetite, or a cause?

Is it possible that the weariness, anxiety, fear, neediness, aimlessness, guilt, and shame which makes Psalm 23 so meaningful stems from the fact that I’m really just trying to “shepherd” myself?

This poured out onto my morning pages this morning:

Lord, I surrender to you my ego,
with all its insatiable neediness for security and affirmation.
I surrender to you Lord, my body,
with all of its insatiable appetites desiring indulgence.
Lord, I surrender to you my thoughts,
with all the destructive recordings that loop incessantly which no one sees or hears, the toxic things I feed it, and the worthless things on which it insistently dwells.
I surrender to you, Lord, my being,
which you created for your glory and not my fame or well-being.
Lord, I surrender to you control,
which I foolishly cling to in my doubt and disillusionment.
Lord, I surrender to you all that I possess,
and with it, the deceptive notion that I possess anything
for there is nothing I possess that does not threaten to possess me.
I surrender to you, Lord, my money,
and with it, the masquerade that tells me this world has anything of eternal value that could possibly be purchased.

Lord, be my Shepherd.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

The Unexpected Prophecy

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.
2 Corinthians 1:3 (NIV)

During the 2008 presidential election, both John McCain and Barack Obama were interviewed at a leadership conference. Both men, in turn, were asked a fascinating question. The candidates were asked to speak about their greatest failure. True to his masterful ability, I recall that Obama spoke for a few minutes in response. His answer articulately wove a beautiful tapestry of words in that graceful, assuring baritone voice. And, I have no recollection whatsoever of his answer.

Asked the same question, John McCain’s answer was immediate and simple: “The failure of my first marriage.”

I will never forget a conversation I had with a wise counselor as I was navigating the failure of my first marriage. My life was strewn in shattered pieces around me. It was the lowest point of my life, and I had been scheduled to speak with this spiritual sage. To be honest, I expected to hear more of the condemnation I felt like I was receiving on all sides. I expected a message of judgment. I expected a righteous tongue lashing and words of dire warning. What I didn’t expect was a prophecy.

Someday,” the counselor said, “you are going to be called upon to walk along side someone who is going through exactly what you are experiencing in this moment, to guide them, and comfort them, and see them through their pain.” That is all that I remember from my hour with him.

It was an Easter Sunday morning several years later that I was walking out of the annual celebration service and spied a man who I had desired to befriend for some time. Seizing the moment, I pulled the acquaintance aside from the crowd and expressed that I would enjoy getting together with him and get to know him better. I’ll never forget the puzzled way he looked at me for a long, uncomfortable moment. Then he leaned in and whispered in my ear a direct answer with the succinct clarity of John McCain: “Tom, my wife left me. Nobody knows it.”

I had the privilege of becoming a friend of that acquaintance, and walking alongside him as he traversed the same agonizing path of marital failure. I got to guide him, comfort him, and see him through that valley. I was privileged to witness, over time, God’s redemption in his story.

Along life’s journey I’ve experienced that suffering produces a common, repetitive question: “Why?”

Sometimes there  is no answer to that question, and I won’t pretend that there always is. Yet, I’ve also experienced in my own suffering that there is often purpose in my pain, just as I’ve read time-and-time again in my chapter-a-day journey. Consider these three similar messages from three different authors writing to three different audiences:

Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.
James 1:2-3

Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.
Romans 5:3-5

In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.
1 Peter 1:6-7

In the midst of my greatest failure, and in the deepest valley I have thus far traversed in my journey, I unexpectedly learned a valuable lesson through the words of a prophet. Sometimes my suffering, and the spiritual comfort I come to find, in Christ, amidst the agony, prepares me to someday comfort another who is making their way through the same dark valley.

Change, Action, and Reaction

The apostles and the believers throughout Judea heard that the Gentiles also had received the word of God. So when Peter went up to Jerusalem, the circumcised believers criticized him and said, “You went into the house of uncircumcised men and ate with them.”
Acts 11:1-3 (NIV)

A few weeks ago I had the privilege of presenting Letters from Pella, a one-act play I wrote some years ago to an academic conference. The academic conference celebrated the 150th anniversary of the birth of H.P. Scholte, the founder of our town. Scholte, a secessionist pastor in the Netherlands, led hundreds of Dutch immigrants to carve out a new home on the Iowa prairie in 1847. Historians from both the Netherlands and the U.S. participated in the conference.

At the Scholte Conference with Dutch historians Leon van den Broeke, Ron van Houwelingen, Michiel van Diggelen, and George Harinck

Each year in our town’s annual Tulip Time festival we celebrate a polished narrative about our founders, but as I researched the actual events that transpired in those first years I found a very different story. Letters between the first immigrants and their families back in the Netherlands gave evidence of anger, conflict, discord, and disagreement. I sought to give voice to that story in my play.

Newton’s Third Law states that for every action there is an opposite reaction. Along my life journey I’ve observed that there are, at times, parallels between physical and human interactions. As both leader and participant in many human organizations I’ve observed that any action or initiative that introduces change to a human system will create a reaction from that system.

In today’s chapter, Peter returns to Jerusalem from his experience of being called by God to the home of a Roman Centurion named Cornelius. Cornelius and his entire household became believers. They had been filled with Holy Spirit and Peter realized that God was doing something “new” in this rapidly growing Jesus movement. The movement was expanding beyond the Jewish tribe to include non-Jewish “Gentiles” whom Jews found religiously unclean. There was a general attitude among the Jewish people of that day despising and looking down on anyone who wasn’t born Jewish.

In going to the home of a Roman Centurion and befriending Cornelius and his household, Peter had crossed a whole host of religious, social, and political lines that his tribe religiously held with systemic rigor.  Now he returns to Jerusalem and the Jewish believers hear what happened, they criticize Peter for what he’s done. Peter’s action has created a powerful reaction.

Peter provides his defense, explaining his vision, God’s call for him to go with the three visitors, and his experience in Cornelius’ household. According to Luke’s description, the believers in Jerusalem “had no further objections.” The Greek word translated “no further objections” is esuchasan which is defined as “quieting down,” “rest,” and “becoming silent.” In other words, no one pushed the issue with Peter, but my experience as a leader tells me there were those who kept their mouths shut publicly and began to whisper their questions and criticism of Peter behind his back. Radical change to deeply rooted human system doesn’t quickly result in “no further objections.” This Jew-Gentile conflict is not going to go away.

This morning I’ve been thinking about some of the “reactions” to systemic change that I’ve observed and experienced over the years. Some of them are instructive. Some of them are tragic. Some of them are downright comical. Yet this spiritual journey had taught me that spiritual growth always necessitates change. God is always calling me and challenging me to love more expansively, forgive more deeply, and to be more sacrificially generous. Those things don’t happen unless there is a willingness within my spirit to things changing, sometimes in uncomfortable ways.

H.P. Scholte certainly experienced his share of “reactions.” Twice the pastor was thrown out of the pulpit by his own congregation when they didn’t like the changes he had introduced into their social and religious system. They called him a scoundrel. Those are the things our town politely forgets to talk about. Yet, all of those radical, uncomfortable changes brought about a really bright future for our town.

Growth happens through change and struggle, while human systems tend to cling to a comfortable status quo. I see this paradigm wherever God is working in the Great Story. If I want to grow, I have to  prepare myself for the reactions I know will be coming my way.

The Spiritual Barometer of Comfort

“For the eyes of the Lord range throughout the earth to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him. You have done a foolish thing, and from now on you will be at war.”
2 Chronicles 16:9 (NIV)

A friend dropped by for coffee yesterday and we enjoyed a long discussion. One of the slivers of conversation was around a class that is being offered in our community in the near future. The premise of the class is that some of history’s most influential people had their most productive and years after the age of 70. The class is intended to encourage adults in the back stretch of life’s journey to consider shunning the traditional view of retirement. Instead of moving somewhere warm and sitting by a pool, the class encourages people to consider how their final stretch of life’s journey might be their most productive and influential.

I thought about that this morning as I read today’s chapter and contemplated the story of King Asa. In yesterday’s post, the prophet Azariah encouraged Asa to “be strong and not give up” but the stretch of life journey that Asa was entering was not one of struggle. Asa’s major challenge and climactic fight was behind him. He was entering a time of extended peace. Thirty-five years of peace and rest. And that’s when he blew it.

Thirty-five years of relatively easy sledding finds King Asa has changed, but not in a good way. He forgot the lesson he learned in his war with the Cushites. He forgot how his faith had led to good things. He forgot Azariah’s admonishment. Thirty-five years of peace and comfort turned Asa into a hard-hearted, self-centric old man. It was the good times and life of relative ease that revealed the true nature of Asa’s heart. A seer named Hanani confronts Asa, but it only confirms and seals Asa’s bitterness (and lands Hanani in the stocks).

This morning I’m thinking about my current waypoint on this life journey. I often think that it’s the tough stretches of pain, tragedy, and difficulty that reveal the true nature of our hearts. Perhaps it is the stretches of comfort and ease that are a better barometer of my spirit.