Tag Archives: Hope

Chapter-a-Day

Grounded for Good

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“Therefore I am now going to allure her;
    I will lead her into the wilderness
    and speak tenderly to her.”
Hosea 2:14 (NIV)

As a parent, I was always mindful of the fact that I wanted punishment to be reserved for times when our girls needed to learn something. I’ve observed that some parents use punishment almost as a preemptive weapon to exert control out of perpetual attitude of distrust. I saved punishment for a lesson when an infraction had undoubtedly occurred and our daughters needed to feel the consequences of firm and loving discipline.

I only remember grounding one of our daughters once. Taylor was in high school. A night out with the gang got out of hand. Curfew was broken and it was clear that some unwise decisions had been made. I imposed a week’s grounding, telling Taylor that she was to be home other than when she was at school or work. There was no argument. She knew she was busted.

Wendy and I still laugh about that week. It was one of the most enjoyable weeks of parenting in all of Taylor’s adolescence. She offered to help with meals each night and learn a few things in the kitchen. She asked if we could go for walks together after school, which led to good conversations. It was obvious that she’d decided that if she had to be grounded for a week she was going to make the best of it. She turned a curse into a blessing.

I mentioned yesterday that I wanted to wade into Hosea’s prophecies against ancient Israel to compare them with his immediate predecessor, Amos. Amos was all angry protest songs, doom and judgement, and words that bite. One of the fascinating things about the prophet Hosea is the way that he consistently, in the midst of pronouncing God’s judgement on ancient Israel, follows up words of judgement with words of hope.

Hosea’s overarching metaphor is that of marriage. God is the bridegroom and His people, Israel, are the bride. She, however, has been unfaithful and has worshipped other gods. God likens this to promiscuity and adultery. So, punishment is coming. She will be taken captive and sent into exile. It’s not going to be pretty. It’s going to be hard.

But then Hosea follows it up by reminding Israel that it was in the wilderness after God led them out of slavery in Egypt and was leading her to the promised land, that they were first metaphorically “betrothed.” God’s punishment of exile is not meant for harm, but for an opportunity. In the wilderness of exile, God hopes to woo the heart of his bride. His goal is not destruction but restoration, not pain but the pursuit of love.

In the quiet this morning, I’m reminded of the fact that this life journey is fraught with difficult times and painful places. Despite what many believe, God never promised to deliver us from the difficulties and pain. In fact, Jesus assured us that it would be our earthly reality. What God did promise, however, was that if we approach the difficulties and pain with faith and joy, we will find that pain produces perseverance, hard times produce hope, and bad circumstances unearth unlooked for blessings.

Note to my regular readers: I’m out next week with an intense work and travel schedule. I plan to return on Monday, November 13. If you need a fix, feel free to visit the chapter-a-day index by book, where you can click on the icon of any book listed and it will provide you with an index page of all the posts from that book. Just click on the photo for each/any chapter and it will bring up the post. Cheers!

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

Chapter-a-Day

Busy Livin’

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Busy Livin' (CaD Job 17) – Wayfarer

“…where then is my hope—
    who can see any hope for me?“
Job 17:15 (NIV)

There is a classic scene in The Shawshank Redemption in which Andy and Red are sitting in the prison yard discussing hope of life on the outside. Andy shares his dreams of getting out, moving to Mexico, and living a quiet life on the coast. Red, who has no hope of getting out of prison, fears he wouldn’t know how to live on the “outside” and he chastises Andy for his pipe dream of life in Mexico. Andy then shares with Red the simple truth he has embraced: “You either get busy living, or you get busy dying.”

Along my life journey, I’ve known multiple individuals who have been given a terminal diagnosis. A business colleague of mine was diagnosed with cancer and was dead in 10 weeks. When my father was diagnosed with Myeloma, his doctor gave him the statistical probability he’d be dead, if I remember correctly, about four or five years ago. Not only is he still around, but on top of the Myeloma he survived a potentially fatal infection a few years ago. His stained-glass won a third-place ribbon at the Iowa State Fair this week, and he’s currently working on crafting a prayer bench for a friend (Way to go, Dad!).

I once had a friend who told me that he had an agreement with his physician that if he was ever diagnosed with cancer, the doctor was forbidden from sharing it with him. He told me that, as a pastor, he’d seen too many of his parishioners die from the diagnosis. Once the doctor told them they had cancer, they “got busy dying.” While I disagree with my friend’s solution to live in ignorance, I’ve never forgotten the lesson that led to his decision.

As I meditated on today’s chapter, I observed that Job appears to be “busy dying.” Given the tragic circumstances he’s experienced, it’s easy to understand why. He can’t see beyond his troubles. In Job’s mind, the agony has been so great that the anticipation of death feels like a relief. Job’s only hope, he states, is the grave. Like Red in The Shawshank Redemption, Job can’t imagine life outside the prison of his suffering, beyond the barbed wire of his pain.

One of the things that Jesus perpetually taught His disciples was to think outside the prison of our momentary circumstances, and to see beyond our finite earthly existence:

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Matthew 6:19-21 (NIV)

This is not to say, as the saying goes, that I “become so heavenly minded that we’re no earthly good.” Rather, a Kingdom world-view changes the way I see my earthly troubles. Paul’s earthly, real-life circumstances included, but were not limited to, the following experiences he shared with Jesus’ disciples in Corinth:

I have worked much harder, been in prison more frequently, been flogged more severely, and been exposed to death again and again. Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was pelted with stones, three times I was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea, I have been constantly on the move. I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from my fellow Jews, in danger from Gentiles; in danger in the city, in danger in the country, in danger at sea; and in danger from false believers. I have labored and toiled and have often gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often gone without food; I have been cold and naked.
2 Corinthians 11:23-27 (NIV)

Despite this, Paul wrote in the same letter:

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.
2 Corinthians 4:16-18 (NIV)

So in the quiet this morning, I once again feel for Job and his sufferings. I don’t blame him for his very human reaction to unbelievable tragic circumstances. His anger and his sense of hopelessness are natural human emotions that he has to work through. He can’t see beyond the grave. As a disciple of Jesus, however, I am called to look beyond the grave. That’s what Jesus’ resurrection was about and it set up a spiritual paradox through which I, as a follower of Jesus, should view my circumstances. Though my earthly circumstances are terminal, because the reality is that every human being’s existence on this earth is terminal, I can still, in the midst of them, “get busy living” because this world is not my home.

As the song goes, this wayfaring stranger is headed home, over Jordan. There is no sickness, no toil, or danger in that bright land to which I go.

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

Chapter-a-Day

Up From the Ashes

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Up From the Ashes (CaD Jer 32) – Wayfarer

For this is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says: Houses, fields and vineyards will again be bought in this land.’
Jeremiah 32:15 (NIV)

For many years, Wendy and I have been part of a wine club. Every quarter we receive bottles of wine from small winemakers around the world, many of them small family vineyards. In recent years, one of our favorites has been a Sicilian wine called Tenuta Fenice, which means “House of the Phoenix.”

Back in 1968, a devastating earthquake destroyed the everything in the village where Dino Taschetta’s family grew their vineyards and made their wine. Everyone abandoned the region. In 2016, Dino returned to the ruins of his family estate and, from the ashes, resurrected his family’s vineyard of ancient, slow-growing vines. That year he produced the first vintage of Tenuta Fenice in a half-century.

I thought of this story as I read today’s chapter. Jeremiah is confined to the palace in Jerusalem, under house arrest. Jerusalem is surrounded by the Babylonian army who are laying siege to it. Jeremiah’s relative visits the prophet and offers to sell him a field.

Consider with me, for a moment, how ludicrous this proposition really is. Jerusalem is under siege. The Babylonian army surrounds it, everyone inside the city walls is trapped, nothing is getting in-or-out. There is little to no hope that anyone will survive, and once the city is ransacked and destroyed, the Babylonians will control everything. Everyone inside Jerusalem is starving, food is scarce, and inflation is through the roof. Every person needs their last shekel of silver to buy what scraps of food are left in the city. The most stupid thing you could do in this moment is spend your silver buying a field that you won’t ever see because you’re likely to be dead. Even if you do survive, the conquering Babylonians could claim it and its produce, leaving you with nothing.

Jeremiah buys the field, as God directs him.

It’s not a personal investment but a powerful word-picture.

Yes, the Babylonians will destroy the city.

Yes, those who survive will likely end up in captivity.

Yes, everyone’s emotional brains and survival instincts have kicked into overdrive and no one can think beyond how they might possible make it through their immediate, dire circumstances.

Nevertheless, Jeremiah buys a field, a vineyard. Jeremiah is looking beyond his momentary circumstances to embrace the larger story God is authoring in their tragic events. In doing so, Jerry foreshadows the same perspective Paul had despite suffering shipwrecks, imprisonment, beatings, lashings, and hardship I can’t possibly imagine:

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.
2 Corinthians 4:16-18 (NIV)

Though Jeremiah will not survive to see it, he purchases a field with the faith and hope of the promise God has proclaimed through him over, and over, and over again: After seventy years, God will bring his people back. The city will be rebuilt. The temple will be rebuilt. Wine will pour once again from this vineyard.

In fact, in about 500 years the wine of the new covenant will be poured out in this very city for the forgiveness of sins, and the hope of humanity. Wouldn’t it be ironic if the wine at Jesus’ last supper was from the vineyard Jeremiah purchased in today’s chapter?

In the quiet this morning, I contemplate the story of Jeremiah’s seemingly silly purchase. I contemplate the story of Dino Taschetta’s family vineyard, and their wine called “House of the Phoenix.” The mythical Phoenix was a popular symbol among Jesus’ early followers. The bird that rises up from the ashes to new life. Wouldn’t you know it, I’m preparing a message for my local gathering of Jesus’ followers this Sunday. The text? “I am the resurrection, and the life.”

I love God’s timing.

Up from the ashes. No matter the hopelessness of my momentary circumstances, God promises there is a larger Story He’s authoring.

I will trust the Story.

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

Chapter-a-Day

Seasons of Struggle

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Seasons of Struggle (CaD Jer 24) – Wayfarer

“This is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: ‘Like these good figs, I regard as good the exiles from Judah, whom I sent away from this place to the land of the Babylonians.
Jeremiah 24:5 (NIV)

It’s still early in baseball season. Our Chicago Cubs have made a lot of moves in the past two years, selling off all of the star players from the 2016 World Series team. Younger players acquired in those trades along with those who are coming up in the system have been combined with short-term contracts of a few veterans to try and piece together a winning team. The result is that Wendy quite regularly blurts out, “Wait! Who is this guy? Where did he come from?”

C’est la vie.

In today’s rather short chapter, God gives Jeremiah a simple metaphor in two baskets of figs he came across at the front of the temple. It’s important to realize that the “exile” of Hebrews to Babylon was not a one-time occurrence that happened when Babylon destroyed Jerusalem in 586 B.C. There was an almost 20 year period in which Jerusalem was subject to the Babylonian Empire.

It began in 605 B.C. when the Babylonian King Nebuchadnezzar, fresh from his crushing defeat of Egypt, stopped by Jerusalem (and a lot of other cities) to demand tribute in exchange for not destroying the city. Empires had learned along the way that having city-states paying regular tributes and taxes was a more lucrative deal in the long-run than simply destroying them. One of the strategies to avoiding rebellion of these cities was to take people of royalty, nobility, along with the talented and gifted into captivity back in Babylon where they could be both useful and controlled. So Neb took the Who’s Who of Jerusalem and sent them off to Babylon.

In 598-597, Neb returned to Jerusalem to put down an attempted rebellion led by King Jehoiakim. More captives were taken and Neb placed Zedekiah on the throne as his puppet. Ten years later, it was Zedekiah who rebelled and made an alliance with Egypt. Nebuchadnezzar returned to destroy Jerusalem in 586 to make an example of her to other city-states under his control. More exiles presumably were sent back to Babylon at that point.

Jeremiah’s prophetic career spanned all of these events. He watched as the best and brightest (the good figs) were taken away and the aged, poor, and weak (the bad figs) were left behind in Jerusalem. It’s kind of like our baseball team selling off and trading all its star players only to be left with scrubs and veterans past their prime to try and finish the season.

The word picture God gave Jeremiah in today’s chapter was a rare, hopeful message in the collection of Jeremiah’s prophetic works. God promises that all the “good figs” who had been taken into exile would survive, thrive, be protected, and would some day return. Most importantly, the captivity and exile in Babylon would teach those in captivity humility leading to repentance and much needed spiritual maturity.

In the quiet this morning, I’m reminded that life is filled with difficult stretches for a reason. God, like a good father, allows His children to struggle because the pain and struggle is the essential ingredient to spiritual growth and outcome. He reminds Jeremiah of the hope of the exiles successful return which would occur seventy years later.

I am also reminded in the quiet this morning that before the Cubs won the World Series in 2016, they went through similar seasons in which players were sold off and traded in order to put together the young team who would end a 108 year World Series drought. Every baseball team, like every life journey, has seasons of struggle.

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

Chapter-a-Day

“Good Luck Charm” Religion

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"Good Luck Charm" Religion (CaD Jer 8) – Wayfarer

“How can you say, ‘We are wise,
    for we have the law of the Lord,’
when actually the lying pen of the scribes
    has handled it falsely?”
Jeremiah 8:8 (NIV)

A few years ago, I was working with a group of leaders who were tasked with teaching the book of 1 Corinthians to a larger gathering of Jesus’ followers. Before we began, I made a copy of the text without any of the chapter or verse numbers listed. I changed the type face to a font that resembled actual handwriting and printed it and handed it out. I encouraged the team to put themselves in the sandals of a leader of the Jesus followers in ancient Corinth and to read the words as they were originally intended: as a personal letter from their friend Paul. It was a transformative exercise for us.

One of the things that I have to always remember on this chapter-a-day journey is that the chapter and verse designations were not part of the original writings for centuries. Manuscripts as early as the 4th century AD contain some evidence of text being divided into chapters, but it wasn’t until the 12th century that Steven Langton added the chapter divisions and it wasn’t until 1551 that a man named Robert Estienne added the verse definitions. In 1560, the first translation of the entire Great Story referred to as the Geneva Bible, employed chapters and verses throughout. They’ve been used ever since.

Chapters and verses are an essential method for study, referencing, and cross-referencing. That’s why they remain. However, in my forty-plus years of studying, I’ve found that they can also hinder my reading, understanding, and interpretation. Chapters and verses gain individual attention apart from the context of the whole in which they were intended when written. Individual verses get pulled out of context. In other cases, like today’s chapter, the entire chapter is merely a piece of a larger message. I can easily read and contemplate just today’s chapter alone without connecting it to the chapters before and after into which they fit.

In today’s chapter, I noticed that the Hebrew people of Jeremiah’s day were saying, “We are wise, for we have the law of the Lord.” Something clicked and I remembered something I read in yesterday’s chapter: “Do not trust in deceptive words and say, “This is the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord, the temple of the Lord!” Both chapters are really part of one message or series of messages to be read together as a unit.

Taken together, I realize that there’s a theme in Jerry’s message that I would never see if I confine myself to each individual chapter and don’t consider them together as a whole. The Hebrew people of Jeremiah’s day had misplaced their trust. They trusted in Solomon’s Temple, one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. They trusted in the “Law of the Lord” which had recently been rediscovered and made known to them. They had not, however, placed their trust in the God who gave them the Law, nor the God who inspired the building of the temple. They were treating the temple and the Law the same way they treated the other gods who they had worshipped, sometimes within the temple they were worshipping. The temple and the Law were basically good luck charms like all the other stars, idols, and pagan images they worshipped along with them.

In the quiet this morning, I thought about people whom I’ve met and known along my life journey whom I’ve observed treating their religion and their local church building, much like the people Jerry is addressing in his message, as good luck charms. When trouble comes in life (and trouble always comes in life – God even says so) I have observed their shock and anger. I have heard them express rage at God for not warding off their troubles and making their lives free of difficulty, pain, or sorrow. But God never promised that.

In fact, when Adam and Eve sinned by eating the forbidden fruit of their own free will, God said specifically that the consequences would include pain and conflict, sweat and toil, along with death and grief on our earthly journeys. Going to church and dressing my life up in religious traditions does not save me from any of those earthly realities. However, a trusting relationship with God gives me what I need to endure troubles in such a way that qualities like faith and perseverance, peace and maturity, along with joy and hope hone me to become more like Jesus, who endured more undeserved trouble than I could ever imagine and did so on my behalf.

Once again, a Bob Dylan lyric came to mind as I pondered these things this morning:

Trouble in the city, trouble in the farm
You got your rabbit’s foot, you got your good-luck charm
But they can’t help you none when there’s trouble…

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

Chapter-a-Day

“Go Your Way to the End”

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"Go Your Way to the End" (CaD Dan 12) – Wayfarer

“As for you, go your way till the end. You will rest, and then at the end of the days you will rise to receive your allotted inheritance.”
Daniel 12:13 (NIV)

The spiritual journey is a faith journey. The author of Hebrews famously defined faith as “assurance of what we hope for, evidence of that which we do not see.” Jesus reminded Nicodemus that the word for spirit in Hebrew is the same word as wind:

“The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.” John 3:8 (NIV)

I’ve always loved that metaphor of wind as spirit. I can’t see the wind, I can only see the evidence of its presence and effect. Jesus provided a parallel metaphor regarding the effect of the Spirit in a person’s life being evidenced by the “fruit” of that person’s life. The evidence of the invisible Holy Spirit’s blowing in and through a person’s life is an increasing amount of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, goodness, faithfulness, and self-control.

I got to thinking about this as I read the final chapter of Daniel. It ends rather abruptly with the end of his prophetic vision regarding the end of days. Daniel himself is confused and perplexed. “I don’t understand,” he pleads to the angel who showed him the vision.

His humble acknowledgment of his ignorance resonated deeply within me. Like most people, I like facts, evidence, and certainty. The spiritual journey, however, is rife with mystery. There are a lot of moments along the way that I, like Daniel, shrug my shoulders and plead, “I don’t get it.”

What fascinated me in the quiet this morning was the angel’s twice-repeated response: “Go your way, Daniel.” Keep pressing on in the journey. Have faith. Stick to the Spirit’s path. Trust the evidence you feel like a soft breeze in your spirit even though you don’t see it. Be assured that the mystery is not something you can’t understand but that which you will endlessly understand. Press on to the journey’s end when you will fully know that which you always merely believed

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

Chapter-a-Day

Order, Disorder, Reorder

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Order, Disorder, Reorder (CaD Jud 17) – Wayfarer

In those days Israel had no king; everyone did as they saw fit.
Judges 17:6 (NIV)

For Wendy and me, there is a certain order to our lives that has developed over the years. Even though we work out of our home offices and have tremendous flexibility, our days and weeks have a certain cadence and rhythm to them that has grown out of the ordering of our spiritual, marital, familial, communal, social, vocational, and cultural needs.

Over the past several years, I have observed my world becoming increasingly disordered. There is no question that the pandemic affected the ordering of our personal lives in ways we’re still trying to understand and grapple with. On top of that, a daily perusal of the news has shown me increased political disorder, social disorder, cultural disorder, and economic disorder. I observe the manifestations of both mental disorders and spiritual disorders.

Christian mystics have long seen and understood that there is a pattern running throughout human history that goes like this:

This is the basic theme of the entire Great Story. From the order of creation and the Garden of Eden in the first two chapters of Genesis came the disorder brought by the Fall of Adam and Eve. From that point on the Great Story is about redemption and restoration of order in the final two chapters of Revelation.

At the beginning of this chapter-a-day trek through Judges I revealed the pattern of the book like this:

It’s simply a riff of the order>disorder>reorder theme and a microcosm of the Great Story itself.

In today’s chapter, the author of Judges shifts from the stories of the major Judges of the settlement period of Hebrew history to an epilogue with stories that represent the disorder of the times. The story of Micah serves two main purposes.

First, the author of Judges makes clear that power was decentralized among the Hebrew tribes. There was no king. Each tribe ran itself under the authority of clan and tribal leaders. This meant that every day people like Micah and his mother were free and independent to do whatever they wanted.

Second, the result of people doing as they pleased led to them mixing their faith in the God of Moses and ordering of life and community per the Law of Moses with local idols and religions. Micah and his mother’s interaction is a disordered hodge-podge of local religious practices and the forming of their own household shrine and cult, with Micah’s son acting as a priest of their personal household religion. Along comes a Levite, who was supposed to serve in God’s tabernacle and lead the Hebrew tribes in keeping the Law of Moses and the rules for life prescribed within it (order). Instead, this Levite agrees to serve as the priest of Micah’s household religion (disorder).

In the quiet this morning, this brings me back to the disorder I observe and feel all around me, and all around the world. It is so easy for me to lose myself in the disorder of the day. My Type Four temperament can quickly sink into a morass of pessimism and despair. Fear and anxiety can readily begin to infiltrate my spirit. But, as a follower of Jesus, I have a different perspective.

First, I can embrace the truth that Jesus predicted and told His followers to expect all kinds of disorder in this life. As a follower of Jesus, I’m instructed to counterintuitively rejoice in it, glory in it, and find joy within the disorder. The mystics who have recognized the pattern throughout history have also understood that it is the pain and discomfort of disorder that ushers in and moves us to reorder. I may feel the pain of the moment, but the disorder will also (if I let it) develop within me the spiritual qualities of perseverance, endurance, patience, and maturity.

Next, I recognize that the author of Judges was looking back and recording this period of disorder from the reordered future in which King David had united the Hebrew tribes as a nation, established Jerusalem as the center of Hebrew worship, and brought the Hebrew people back to their faith in Yahweh. The disorder of Judges was written from the perspective of the reordered world.

And so, I look at the disorder around me in the context of this cycle. Reorder is coming. Not only can I trust this because history reveals that disorder always leads to reorder, but also because the resurrected Jesus promised His return and the ultimate reordering of all things. I, as a follower of Jesus, believe this to be true, even in the midst of disorderly times, and this changes my perspective on the disorder itself.

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace,” Jesus said. “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

And with that hope, I enter another day and another week in a disordered world.

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

Chapter-a-Day

Slaves to Fear

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Slaves to Fear (CaD Heb 2) – Wayfarer

…and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death.
Hebrews 2:15 (NIV)

Over the weekend, I was informed by a client that one of their team members passed away from Covid. I had just spoken to her a few weeks ago while I was on-site doing some training sessions. In fact, she and I had a very pleasant conversation one morning as we waited for some of her colleagues to arrive for a meeting. The news came as a shock.

The pandemic has been a life-altering event for humanity. We have lived through a historic period of history. Some of the effects may very well reverberate through the rest of our lives or beyond.

For me, one of the fascinating aspects of the pandemic has been to witness fear and its effects on people’s thoughts and behaviors. It is completely natural for people to fear death, yet along my life journey, I’ve come to observe that it’s easy for most people around me to keep thoughts of death successfully at bay. This is especially true living in a developed, affluent society in which life expectancy is long and temporal distractions are virtually endless. Having officiated many funerals along my journey, I came to realize that for many people attending the funeral it might be one of the few times in life they contemplated their own mortality. It’s hard not to when there’s a dead body in the room.

I was struck this morning by the author of the letter to the Hebrews observing that people could be enslaved by their fear of death. I believe it resonated deeply with me simply because I’ve witnessed what that looks like in people during the pandemic.

For followers of Jesus, tomorrow is Ash Wednesday and the beginning of an annual 40-day remembrance of Jesus’ journey to death that ends in the celebration of His resurrection. That is the defining moment as a follower of Jesus. Death was not a dead end to be feared, but the path to resurrection and eternal Life.

If I truly believe what I say I believe then my perception of, and attitude toward, death is forever altered. Jesus’ resurrection turns the one thing that I most fear, my own death, into an event filled with hope, promise, and expectation. I am no longer shackled by my fear of death. Without those chains, I have perceived my anxiety level to be far lower than many I have observed around me during the past couple of years. The contrast has been brought acutely into focus.

In the quiet this morning, I am grateful for the increasing signs of the pandemic becoming endemic. I am hopeful for life to return to some semblance of pre-pandemic normality. I’m grateful for clients who know that I not only do business with them, but that I care about them, walk with them, grieve with them, and will pray for them in times of death and grief. I’m grateful that through Jesus’ death and resurrection, I am free from slavery to the fear of death.

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

Chapter-a-Day

A Different Spirit of the Season

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A Different Spirit of the Season (CaD Lam 5) – Wayfarer

the young men have stopped their music.
Joy is gone from our hearts;
    our dancing has turned to mourning.
Lamentations 5:14b-15 (NIV)

Wendy and I attended the funeral of a friend yesterday. As funerals go, it was the kind of celebration of life and faith that I appreciate. After a long battle with cancer, our friend ended his earthly journey at home, surrounded by his family, holding his wife’s hand. Each of his three children shared honestly and humorously about their father’s foibles as well as his faithfulness. It is popular to say that funerals are a celebration of life, but it was really true in this case. We really felt it in our hearts as we watched and listened.

During one of the special music numbers, Wendy leaned over and whispered to me, “This sounds like a song from a Broadway musical.”

She nailed it. My eyes grew big and nodded and smiled in agreement. But that wasn’t the end of it. As the song continued, Wendy started whispering to me her vision of the musical on stage.

“This is where the chorus slowly begins to make their way on stage to join the soloist as the music swells.”

At this point, I’m laughing because I can totally see it in my head.

The song continued to build through a repeat of the chorus, and then right on cue I leaned over and whispered, “Key change!”

Wendy doubled over with laughter as the song moved to the final bridge. As it moved to the dramatic closing Wendy whispered the possible titles of the musical we’d just conjured up in our heads. I can’t remember what she said. I was laughing too hard. It’s a good thing we were sitting in the back row.

Later in the day, Wendy and I talked about the fact that we both felt very much at ease at the funeral. Our friend knew where he going and was ready to go. He lived a life of faith, hope, and love and he touched our lives in such good ways. His family was laughing amidst their tears during the funeral. The spirit in the room was that of joy, which I think gave Wendy and me the freedom to share our own laugh together. I believe there is such a thing as a good funeral, and this was one of them.

I couldn’t help but bring that to mind as I read the final poem in Jeremiah’s five-poem cycle we call the book of Lamentations. Those who like happy endings will be disappointed. If anything, Jeremiah leaves me mired in the terrible circumstances he witnessed. There’s no glimmer of hope. It’s still out there somewhere on the dark horizon.

Jeremiah even leaves a buries a clue of his sorrow into the structure of the chapter. The structure of the first four poems in Lamentations are forms of alphabetic acrostics in which the first word of every verse began with successive letters in the 22 letter Hebrew alphabet. You might notice that there are 22 verses in today’s final chapter, but the verses don’t follow the alphabetic acrostic pattern. Metaphorically, the poet is telling us that things are breaking down, the structure is falling apart.

“The music has stopped,” Jeremiah reports. No joy. No dancing. No inspirational swell of a climactic Broadway finale. Not even a funeral dirge. There’s just continued mourning, the perpetuation of chaos which ends with a final questioning cry to God, whom Jeremiah feels is distant and aloof.

Christmas Eve is a week from today, and I admit that it has felt a bit odd to journey through Lamentations while the world is waxing sentimental about gingerbread houses, Santa’s visit, and “peace on earth goodwill to men.” At the same time, there was something about this week with Jeremiah that felt honest in a healthy way. This life journey ebbs and flows, and its course doesn’t always conveniently coincide with the spirit of the holidays the world seems to annually expect of me. And, that’s okay.

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

Chapter-a-Day

“Yet This I Call to Mind”

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"Yet This I Call to Mind" (CaD Lam 3) – Wayfarer

Yet this I call to mind
    and therefore I have hope:
Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
    for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion;
    therefore I will wait for him.”
Lamentations 3:21-24 (NIV)

Jeremiah shows all the signs of being an Enneagram Type Four. The constant brooding. The wallowing in melancholy. The ability to wax eloquent and hyperbolic on his suffering and affliction. Of course, Jeremiah has far more reason than I to brood. When, in today’s poetic chapter, he states “I called on your name, Lord, from the depths of the pit” it wasn’t just hyperbole. In Jeremiah 38, his enemies literally threw the prophet into an empty well and left him to die in the muddy slime at the bottom.

And I think I’ve seen some bad days.

One of the things lost on most readers of Lamentations is the intricate way in which it is written. Each chapter is its own separate Hebrew poem. Each poem (chapter) is a Hebrew acrostic, meaning that every verse begins with a different letter in the Hebrew alphabet. Today’s chapter is the middle poem, and those who joined me for last year’s journey through the book of Psalms might remember that in Hebrew poetry, the very middle verse or stanza or poem tends to contain the central theme. The way that Jeremiah structured this cycle of poems, the first verse of today’s chapter is the central verse of the book:

I am the man who has seen affliction
    by the rod of the Lord’s wrath.

[cue: I Am a Man of Constant Sorrows by the Soggy Bottom Boys]

Yesterday, I wrote about the very human need to grieve, and the permission that God gives throughout the Great Story to do so. I believe it is healthy on all levels to process and express sorrow and grief, and God gives consistent permission to do so. Jesus even sweat blood as He expressed His despair at the suffering He was about to face on the final day of his earthly journey. Singing the blues is good for the soul.

Along the journey, however, I’ve also learned that there’s a point at which the healthy expression of my sorrow becomes an unhealthy victim status. Jeremiah didn’t die in the pit. Jesus didn’t stay in the grave. Choosing to mire myself in despair and refuse hope is to deny the very core of my faith.

Jeremiah quite obviously was a student of David’s lyrics in the Psalms. He follows David’s example both in shamelessly singing the blues, but also in finding the inflection point at which a ray of light shines in the darkness. There’s always that moment when the free-fall ends and the road begins to ascend. It’s the moment of eucatastrophe when the winds shift, the lighthouse appears on the horizon, and the seeds of hope bear fruit in the midst of despair. Jeremiah, writing from the depths of death, starvation, and devastation more extreme than David ever faces, makes the turn to hope more eloquently than David ever did:

Yet this I call to mind
    and therefore I have hope:
Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
    for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion;
    therefore I will wait for him.”

That’s the moment I seek in every dark valley of my journey. The moment that comes after I’ve cried a river of tears, screamed like King Lear and his fool into the winds of misfortune, written endless pages of guttural lament, and feasted on every angry growl of my blues collection. The moment when I lay spent from the rage and my soul can finally hear the whisper:

“Yet this I call to mind…”

Wait for it.

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