Tag Archives: Prophecy

A Tale of Two Kings

A Tale of Two Kings (CaD Ps 144) Wayfarer

Lord, what are human beings that you care for them,
    mere mortals that you think of them?
They are like a breath;
    their days are like a fleeting shadow.

Psalm 144:3-4 (NIV)

Bear with me today, because I’m going to theatre-geek out on you a bit.

The tale of Shakespeare’s Macbeth is one that I have found myself referencing repeatedly in these post over the past 15 years. Macbeth is the Bard’s shortest play, and the further I traverse this road of life, the more meaningful I find it. It is full of mystery and of humans striving against both fate and unseen forces to ascend power in the kingdoms of this world to a tragic end.

Did You Know?
In the theatre world, it is considered taboo to utter the name of Shakespeare’s tragic hero, Macbeth. When referencing the play of “he who must not be named,” it is most common to simply refer to it as “The Scottish Play.”

To refresh your memory from high school English class, Macbeth is a soldier who does himself proud. On his way home from war, he meets “the weird sisters” who prophetically tell him that he will become a noble, and then will become king. He writes his wife the news and immediately the first part of the prophecy comes true.

As fate would have it, King Duncan is passing through the area and decides to spend the night with the Macbeths at their estate. Rather than waiting to see if the prophecy comes true, Lady Macbeth and her husband are convinced that this is the opportunity to make the second part of the prophecy come true. They murder the King, seize the throne, but in doing so they unleash circumstances that will cycle out of control and doom them.

Near the end of The Scottish Play, King Macbeth receives news that his wife is dead. As Jesus would have observed: He gained the world, and lost his soul, along with everything else that matters. As this realization kicks in, the tragic hero utters one of Shakespeare’s well-known monologues:

She should have died hereafter;
There would have been a time for such a word.
Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
To the last syllable of recorded time,
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
And then is heard no more: it is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Signifying nothing.

I couldn’t help but think of Macbeth as I read David’s lyrics in today’s chapter, Psalm 144:

Lord, what are human beings that you care for them,
    mere mortals that you think of them?
They are like a breath;
    their days are like a fleeting shadow.

As I meditated on the similarity of sentiments between Macbeth’s lines and David’s lyrics, I was eventually led to contemplate both the common themes and the contrasts.

Macbeth was given a prophesy that he would be king of Scotland in the same way that David was anointed king by the prophet Samuel when he was still a young man. Impatient and hungry for power, Macbeth and his Lady resorted to lies, deceit, and murder to take the throne by force. David lived for many years in the wilderness, refusing multiple opportunities to kill his rival, King Saul. If the prophecy was to be fulfilled, David wanted it to be God who made it happen, not him.

Macbeth’s observations about life being a walking shadow are filled with the emptiness and bitterness amidst the ruins of his choices and their tragic ends. David’s observation is filled with faith and awe that God would choose to love, protect, and bless him when he humbly acknowledges that he is nothing before the hand of the almighty.

In the quiet this morning, I’m thinking about my own life. I turn 55 at the end of this month. Even if I am graciously allowed the average number of days on the “petty pace” earthly journey (and that’s no guarantee), I must acknowledge that “all my yesterdays” account for more than my “tomorrows.” There are more days behind me than before. I will eventually make my exit from this terrestrial stage.

As the “fleeting shadow” of my own journey creeps to the ext, whom will I be most like?

Macbeth in his despair and woes of meaningless futility?

David in his humble praise to God for all the blessings he’d graciously been afforded despite his tragic flaws and many mistakes?

Music, Ritual, & Meaning

Music, Ritual, & Meaning (CaD Ps 118) Wayfarer

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
    his love endures forever.

Psalm 118:29 (NIV)

Music plays such a fascinating role in the human experience. Music has the power to express thought and emotion in ways more potent than the mere words themselves. Music has a unique ability to bring people together in unity, even complete strangers. It happens in sporting events, in religious events, civic ceremonies, and virtually every birthday party you’ll go to or happen upon. Music is typically a part of every funeral service. I personally can’t hear Taps without it stirring emotion in me.

Last week I mentioned in these chapter-a-day posts that Psalms 113-118 make up series of songs known at the Hallel in Hebrew. They are the songs sung throughout the Hebrew feast of Passover. Today’s chapter, Psalm 118, is the final song. The lyrics were originally written to be a song of Thanksgiving that the king would sing with the people after a great victory. The “king” does most of the singing the way this song was structured, singing verses 5-21. In verses 22-27 the people rejoice over what God has done. The king then sings the final two verses.

What I found interesting as I read through and mulled over the song in the quiet this morning, is that it’s traditionally believed that Jesus and His followers were eating the Passover meal together the night He would be betrayed and arrested. If this is true, it is very possible that when Matthew records “When they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives” it was Psalm 118 they were singing.

With that in mind, I went back and read the lyrics again, this time I imagined Jesus singing the part of the king and His followers the part of the people. Jesus knew what was about to happen. He predicted it on multiple occasions and he pushed the buttons that put into motion the political mechanism that would seal His earthly fate. I read the lyrics, placing myself in Jesus’ sandals, knowing what was about to happen the next day and on the third day.

It gives the lyrics a whole new layer of meaning as He sings:

The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid.
    What can mere mortals do to me?

I will not die but live,
    and will proclaim what the Lord has done.

Open for me the gates of the righteous;
    I will enter and give thanks to the Lord.
This is the gate of the Lord
    through which the righteous may enter.

And as his disciples sing:

The stone the builders rejected
    has become the cornerstone;
the Lord has done this,
    and it is marvelous in our eyes.

When, after the resurrection, Peter is brought to trial before the very same religious leaders who put Jesus to death, it is this lyric that Peter quotes back to his accusers (Acts 4:11). Could it be that Peter was, at that moment, remembering singing those lyrics that fateful night just weeks earlier when he himself rejected and denied knowing Jesus?

And then I thought of Jesus, knowing that He is about to be betrayed, arrested, beaten, flogged, mocked, and crucified, singing the final words of Psalm 118 and it being the last song He would sing on His earthly journey:

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
    his love endures forever.

In the quiet this morning, I once again find the irony (perhaps divine appointment?) of reading these songs during the season of Lent when followers of Jesus focus our thoughts and spirits on Jesus’ final days, His crucifixion, and His resurrection. Music plays a part in the remembrance, just as Psalm 118 likely played a part in Jesus’ remembrance of God’s breaking the bonds of Hebrew slaves and delivering them out of Egypt. Music, ritual, and meaning are threads that connect the three human events. The Exodus, the Passion, and my celebration of the Great Story in this season.

Geeking Out on the Great Story

Would you rather listen? Subscribe to The Wayfarer Podcast Now on Your Favorite App!

The Lord has sworn
    and will not change his mind:
“You are a priest forever,
    in the order of Melchizedek.”

Psalm 110:4 (NIV)

I confess. I am a Tolkien nerd. I have been most of my life. Before the advent of cell phones I would typically read The Lord of the Rings once a year. Now, I have it on audiobook and will often listen to it when I can’t sleep. Once I got a text from my daughter asking me, “Do you know the name of Theoden’s horse?”

I immediately replied. “Of course. Snowmane.”

She then texted. “Thanks. Playing pub trivia and I knew you’d know.”

But I couldn’t let it go at that. I then added:

“Gandalf’s horse is Shadowfax.
Sam’s pony is Bill.
Glorfindel’s horse is Asfaloth.
Aragorn’s horse is Hasufel.
Legolas’ horse is Arod.”

Okay. I was showing off and geeking out. Maybe I have a problem.

Geeking out came to mind as I read today’s chapter, Psalm 110, because it contains a geeky reference in the Great Story that I find even life-long followers of Jesus to be largely unaware. It is the mysterious character of Melchizedek.

Melchizedek makes his appearance towards the very beginning of the Great Story when God calls Abraham:

Then Melchizedek king of Salem brought out bread and wine. He was priest of God Most High, and he blessed Abram, saying,

“Blessed be Abram by God Most High,
    Creator of heaven and earth.
And praise be to God Most High,
    who delivered your enemies into your hand.”

Then Abram gave him a tenth of everything.


Genesis 14:17-20 (NIV)

That’s it. That’s the only reference to him and that’s all we know about him. And this is where the mystery begins. In the Great Story Abram is the first of the Hebrew “patriarchs.” At this point in the story, there are no Ten Commandments, no system of worship (which came through Moses centuries later), no record of any kind of formal “priesthood.” So, who is Melchizedek? Where did he come from? How did he become “priest of God Most High” and what exactly did that mean?

We. Don’t. Know.

So, why is he important?

In the Hebrew system of worship that God prescribed through Moses, the “priesthood” was relegated to Aaron and his descendants. If you weren’t in the line of Aaron then you couldn’t be a priest. When the law and sacrificial system was established through Moses the Hebrews had no “king.” It would be centuries before they established a monarchy. When they did, the line of King David was established as the royal line through which the Messiah would come. So, if the Messiah was to be both King of Kings (from the royal line of David) and eternal High Priest (and only descendants of Aaron could be priests) how is that possible?

David wrote the coronation song, Psalm 110, that prophetically provided the answer. Some scholars say that Psalm 110 is the most directly prophetic of all the psalms, but that isn’t easily understood by the casual reader. David references the mysterious priesthood before Moses and before Aaron. He connects the Messiah with the shadowy figure of Melchizedek, “priest of God Most High,” who “brought out bread and wine (sound familiar?). The early followers of Jesus saw it and the author of the New Testament book of Hebrews (also a mystery) fleshed it out. The priesthood and sacrificial system of Aaron was a temporary spiritual band-aid and living metaphor of what was to come. The ultimate, once-for-all sacrifice of Jesus was sourced in an eternal priesthood that was older, deeper, and (from a human perspective) infinitely mysterious.

The author of Hebrews writes:

“Melchizedek was king of Salem and priest of the Highest God. He met Abraham, who was returning from “the royal massacre,” and gave him his blessing. Abraham in turn gave him a tenth of the spoils. “Melchizedek” means “King of Righteousness.” “Salem” means “Peace.” So, he is also “King of Peace.” Melchizedek towers out of the past—without record of family ties, no account of beginning or end. In this way he is like the Son of God, one huge priestly presence dominating the landscape always.”
Hebrews 7:1-3 (MSG)

In the quiet this morning I feel like I’m geeking out on the Great Story like I geek out on The Lord of the Rings so forgive me if this post leaves you rolling your eyes and/or scratching your head.

A faith journey isn’t about reason or it wouldn’t be faith. In the mystery of Melchizedek, I’m reminded that faith requires of me the humility to accept that there are truths that lie in mystery. They are deeper, older, and unfathomable this side of eternity. Once again, I am grateful to Richard Rohr for introducing me to the concept that mystery isn’t something that we can’t understand but something we endlessly understand. The further I get in my spiritual journey, the more I have come to embrace and enjoy the mystery.

Meaning in the Metaphor

Meaning in the Metaphor (CaD Ps 80) Wayfarer

You brought a vine out of Egypt;
Psalm 80:8 (NRSVCE)

I have celebrated Christmas as a follower of Jesus for almost forty years, and I can tell you that the most forgotten storyline of the Christmas story is found in the second chapter of Matthew.

King Herod was the regional ruler operating under subservience to the Roman Empire. It was Herod to whom the Zoroastrians (that we call the “Three Kings” or “Magi”) went to find out where the Jewish Messiah was to be born. Herod got the answer for them and sent them on their way to Bethlehem. Herod was a blood-thirsty man, however. A shrewd monarch with boundless ambition, Herod’s successful reign was made possible in part by his ability to assassinate any rival. This included members of his own family.

Matthew shares that Herod, wanting to make sure the newborn Messiah would not grow up to threaten his worldly power, ordered all the baby boys in Bethlehem two years and under killed. Warned by an angel in a dream, Joseph and Mary flee with the baby to Egypt. When Herod died a few years later, they returned to Joseph in Nazareth.

In telling this piece of the story, Matthew quotes the prophet Hosea, who said: “Out of Egypt I have called my son” (Hosea 11:1). In my podcast A Beginner’s Guide to the Great Story (Part 7) I talked about prophecy and the fact that part of the mystery of the prophetic is that metaphor can be layered with meaning. Hosea was writing about the Hebrew exodus out of Egyptian slavery, but Matthew sees that Jesus, God’s son, was also called out of Egypt.

In today’s chapter, Psalm 80, we have a song of lament written somewhere around 725 BC. The Assyrians were attacking the northern kingdom of Israel. Refugees from the northern tribes were flowing into Jerusalem, and Asaph laments that God brought the nation out of Egypt and planted them in Canaan only to let foreign countries attack them. In this case, Asaph uses the metaphor of God bringing a vine out of Egypt only to let foreign powers like Assyria and Babylon pick “the fruit” of God’s hand.

As a follower of Jesus, I am immediately reminded of Jesus’ words to His most intimate followers the night before His crucifixion:

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.

“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. If you do not remain in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned. John 15:1-5 (NIV)

When Asaph writes his lyric: “You brought a vine out of Egypt” he was being as prophetic as Hosea was when quoted by Matthew, but here’s where I found added meaning in Asaph’s metaphor. Asaph metaphorically envisions that he and the fellow Hebrew tribes were the Vine. When Jesus came, Asaph’s misunderstanding becomes clear. Jesus is the Vine, and his followers are the branches. If you’re not connected to the Vine, then you get pruned back and cut-off.

The Hebrew prophets made it clear that the Hebrew people had disconnected themselves from God. They worshipped foreign gods and were unfaithful to the covenant they made through Moses. The prophets made it clear that the Assyrians and Babylonians were God’s pruning shears, because contrary to Asaph’s lyrics the only fruit left on those branches was rotten.

In the quiet this morning I wondered how often I, like Asaph, lament the fact that life isn’t going so well. I feel empty, depleted, and attacked like someone plucked everything from me when my real problem is the same as the Hebrews: I’m not connected to the Vine. There’s no spiritual nourishment flowing from the Living Water deep in the root structure. There’s no support from the Vine and no protection from the other branches. The fruit my life is bearing small, tasteless, impotent, even rotten.

As another Christmas approaches, I’m thinking about the least discussed event of that first Christmas. The Son of God, emptied of Heaven and dependent on a young mother, goes into exile in Egypt. Out of Egypt God will call His Son, the Vine. If I miss that connection, then I’m missing the Life, not only of the Christmas story, but the entire Great Story itself.

One Song, Two Stories

One Song, Two Stories (CaD Ps 69) Wayfarer

You, God, know my folly;
    my guilt is not hidden from you.

Psalm 69:5 (NIV)

A few months ago I discussed prophetic writing in my Wayfarer Weekend podcast The Beginner’s Guide to the Great Story Part 7. Two of the things discussed in that podcast was that the prophetic exists throughout the Great Story, not just in the writings of the prophets themselves and that the prophetic (like all metaphor) can be layered with meaning.

Today’s chapter, Psalm 69, is a great example.

This song of David is quoted more than any other psalm in the New Testament with the exception of Psalm 22. The followers of Jesus saw prophetic images of Jesus in David’s lament:

“Zeal for your house consumes me” foreshadows Jesus clearing the temple of the moneychangers and religious racketeers.

“I am a foreigner to my own family, a stranger to my own mother’s children,” foreshadows Jesus whose family thought He was crazy and sought to have him committed.

Jesus’ suffering, trials, and crucifixion are foreshadowed in verses 19-21:

You know how I am scorned, disgraced and shamed;
    all my enemies are before you.
Scorn has broken my heart
    and has left me helpless;
I looked for sympathy, but there was none,
    for comforters, but I found none.
They put gall in my food
    and gave me vinegar for my thirst.

“I am forced to restore, what I did not steal,” prophetically reveals Jesus, the Son of God, sacrificed to restore the relational chasm that sin created between God and humanity.

What’s fascinating to me is that this same song was written by David at a time when the consequences of his own faults and sins were at the root of his suffering. David structured the song as if it were two halves. Remember that the “center” refrain in an ancient Hebrew song reveals the theme, the “one thing,” that the song writers is getting at. There are two of them:

You, God, know my folly;
    my guilt is not hidden from you
. (verse 5)

But as for me, afflicted and in pain—
    may your salvation, God, protect me. (verse 29)

The song was all about David’s sinfulness. David even confesses in the lyric that his suffering, the reason his enemies are piling on, are the consequences of his own sinful mistakes. David sees his wounds, his weakness, and his suffering as divine retribution for his own mistakes:

For [my enemies] persecute those you wound,
    and talk about the pain of those you hurt. (verse 26)

So, what David wrote as a lament of confession for his own sins, mistakes, and their painful consequences was, at the very same time, a prophetic vision of Jesus who would come and suffer on a cross to forgive and redeem those sins and mistakes. Talk about beautiful.

In the quiet this morning I couldn’t help but think back on the darkest moments of my own life journey when my sins and mistakes wreaked havoc on my life and wounded those I love. I know that feeling. I totally identify with that. I see my own shit in David’s shit. Just like my post a few days ago, I read today’s chapter and my spirit says: “THAT story is my story.”

At the same time, it’s not the WHOLE of my story because Jesus has forgiven, redeemed, and restored my life. My story doesn’t end in the painful consequences of my own mistakes. Because of what Jesus did for me I experienced His grace, His mercy, His forgiveness, and His love. He pulled me out of the pit I put myself in. He led me out of the valley of the shadow of death.

One song is layered with meaning and captures both spiritual realities. My mistakes, and Jesus work to redeem those mistakes.

In the stillness, I hear the voice of Corrie Ten Boom on the whispering wind: “There is no pit so deep, that God’s love is not deeper still.”

Wayfarer Weekend Podcast: Where it’s All Going

This week’s Wayfarer Weekend podcast comes on the heels of the most contentious Presidential election in recent history during the most strange year of our lifetimes. Where is it all going? Thoughts from a “wayfaring stranger traveling through this world of woe.”

(WW) A Wayfarer's Thoughts: Where it's All Going Wayfarer

Prophecy & Professor Trelawney

Rather listen? Subscribe to The Wayfarer Podcast Now on Your Favorite App!

Posterity will serve him;
    future generations will be told about the Lord,
and proclaim his deliverance to a people yet unborn,
    saying that he has done it.

Psalm 22:30-31 (NRSVCE)

I’ve been doing a series of podcasts called the Beginner’s Guide to the Great Story. There are ten episodes in the series and I’m doing the series for those who know little or nothing about how what we call the Bible. Why do I call it the Great Story? Well, I’m not the first to do so, and I find that just saying the word “Bible” can conjure up so much prejudicial thoughts and notions. Besides, I’m more interested in the Story that is being told through the narrative from the beginning in Genesis to the end of Revelation which, again (spoiler alert!), a new beginning.

The next episode in the Beginner’s Guide to the Great Story series is part seven in which I’m going to talk about the section of texts from Isaiah to those written by the Italian prophet Malachi (Sorry, that’s like a dad joke, it never gets old for me). The prophets were some of the strangest characters in the Great Story, and the prophetic texts are mysterious, sometimes poetic and inspiring, sometimes gruesome and violent, sometimes so graphic it would make church ladies blush (therefore those texts are almost universally ignored by everyone).

Think about how the prophetic is almost universally present in all of our great epic stories. One of my favorite prophetic characters is Sybill Trelawney in J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter epic (and NOT because my sister, Jody, could could easily pull off being the doppleganger of Emma Thompson’s iconic take on the character). I just love how Professor Trelawney does virtually nothing by way of being prophetic or accurate in her daily predictions. She’s a miserable failure at her subject. But on just a couple of occasions she actually is prophetic, though in each case she doesn’t know it and has no memory of what she actually said. That is classic prophetic mystery. I love it.

Today’s psalm, written by David, is a classic because the warrior-king songwriter has his Sybill Trelawney moment. Written in the neighborhood of 1000 years before Jesus, the 22nd psalm is dripping with prophetic imagery of Jesus.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
    Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?

Psalm 22:1

And about three o’clock Jesus cried with a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” that is, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
Matthew 20:46

But I am a worm, and not human;
    scorned by others, and despised by the people.
Psalm 22:6

Pilate asked them, “Why, what evil has [Jesus] done?” But [the crowd] shouted all the more, “Crucify him!”
Mark 15:14

All who see me mock at me;
    they make mouths at me, they shake their heads

Psalm 22:7

The chief priests and the scribes stood by, vehemently accusing him. Even Herod with his soldiers treated him with contempt and mocked him; then he put an elegant robe on him, and sent him back to Pilate.
Luke 23:10-11

Yet it was you who took me from the womb;
    you kept me safe on my mother’s breast.

Psalm 22:9

And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, [the Magi] left for their own country by another road.

Now after they had left, an angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream and said, “Get up, take the child and his mother, and flee to Egypt, and remain there until I tell you; for Herod is about to search for the child, to destroy him.”
Matthew 2:12-13

On you I was cast from my birth,
    and since my mother bore me you have been my God.
Psalm 22:10

The angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you will name him Jesus. He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High, and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his ancestor David. He will reign over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I am a virgin?” The angel said to her, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you; therefore the child to be born will be holy; he will be called Son of God.
Luke 1:30-35

Many bulls encircle me,
    strong bulls of Bashan surround me;
they open wide their mouths at me,
    like a ravening and roaring lion.

Psalm 22:12-13

Now the men who were holding Jesus began to mock him and beat him; they also blindfolded him and kept asking him, “Prophesy! Who is it that struck you?”
Luke 22:63-64

I am poured out like water,
    and all my bones are out of joint;
my heart is like wax;
    it is melted within my breast;
my mouth is dried up like a potsherd,
    and my tongue sticks to my jaws;
    you lay me in the dust of death.

Psalm 22:14-15

So they took Jesus; and carrying the cross by himself, he went out to what is called The Place of the Skull, which in Hebrew is called Golgotha. There they crucified him…
John 19:16-18

For dogs are all around me;
    a company of evildoers encircles me.
My hands and feet have shriveled;
I can count all my bones.
They stare and gloat over me;
they divide my clothes among themselves,
    and for my clothing they cast lots.

Psalm 22:16-18

When the soldiers had crucified Jesus, they took his clothes and divided them into four parts, one for each soldier. They also took his tunic; now the tunic was seamless, woven in one piece from the top. So they said to one another, “Let us not tear it, but cast lots for it to see who will get it.” This was to fulfill what the scripture says,
“They divided my clothes among themselves,
    and for my clothing they cast lots.”
And that is what the soldiers did.

John 19:23-25

The poor shall eat and be satisfied;
    those who seek him shall praise the Lord.

Psalm 22:26

Jesus answered them, “Very truly, I tell you, you are looking for me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves. Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you.
John 6:26-27

To him, indeed, shall all who sleep in the earth bow down;
    before him shall bow all who go down to the dust,
    and I shall live for him.
Posterity will serve him;
    future generations will be told about the Lord,
and proclaim his deliverance to a people yet unborn,
    saying that he has done it.

Psalm 22: 30-31

So when they had come together, they asked him, “Lord, is this the time when you will restore the kingdom to Israel?” He replied, “It is not for you to know the times or periods that the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight.
Acts 1:6-9

In the quiet this morning I find myself asking, “Did David have any idea what he was writing when he penned the lyrics to the song we now call Psalm 22?”

I don’t think he did. I think it was his Sybill Trelawney moment. Along my life journey, I’ve observed that this is the way the prophetic works. It’s mysterious, and strange, and comes from the most unexpected of people in the most random moments of time. Maybe even me. Maybe even you. You can’t will it to happen like Professor Trelawney so aptly proved in every one of her utterly useless classes. Those who try to do so end up charlatans like Gilderoy Lockhard or end up drowning their sorrows in a bottle of Sherry like Professor Trelawney herself. The prophetic happens when it’s supposed to happen via the medium God chooses (and God often chooses the strangest of mediums). Yet, when it happens, like David having his Trelawney moment in Psalm 22, it’s pretty amazing.

Today I’m pressing on, not willing things to happen, but open and expectant of whatever is supposed to happen in this Great Story in which I’m simply trying to play my bit part to the best of my ability.

(Exit Tom, stage left) See you tomorrow!

Beginner’s Guide to the Great Story (Part 5)

With this episode, we’re going to continue our journey through the major sections of the Great Story. We pick it up at the end of Moses’ story and overview the continuation of the overall narrative through the “Historical Books” of the Old Testament.

This episode if brought to us by the letter “C”:

  • Conquest
  • Cycle of broken humanity
  • Crying for a king
  • Civil War
    • Chaos of power (in the Northern Kingdom)
    • Continuation of David’s line (in the Southern Kingdom)
  • Conquered
  • Captivity
  • Constructing the past
Beginner’s Guide to the Great Story (Part 5)

You can subscribe to the Wayfarer podcast through Apple iTunes and Google Play.

Beginner’s Guide to the Great Story (Part 4)

With this episode, we’re going to begin wandering through the major sections of the Great Story. Up first is the beginning of the Story in the ancient, mysterious narrative of the first five books known by many names such as “The Books of Moses,” “The Law,” “The Torah,” and “The Pentateuch.” In these ancient texts, we’re going to identify the problem and the prophetic plan through a person who becomes a people.

Wayfarer Podcast Episode 10: A Beginner’s Guide to the Great Story (Part 4)

You can subscribe to the Wayfarer podcast through Apple iTunes and Google Play.

Apocalypse and Labor Pains

Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be earthquakes in various places, and famines. These are the beginning of birth pains.
Mark 13:8 (NIV)

I recently finished a three-episode podcast series on time. The second episode of the podcast specifically on the so-called “end times” and the apocalypse. The apocalyptic and dystopian has always captured the human imagination, and one of the observations that I made in the podcast is that every generation has those who believe the end is near. I have also observed a pattern within every community of Jesus followers with whom I’ve been associated. As they get older, the more likely it is that they will be convinced that the return of Jesus and the apocalyptic end prophesied in Revelation is near. There must be something human in us that feels comforted by projecting our fear about the end of our own earthly journey on all humankind.

Well,” I hear an older woman [let’s cast Dame Maggie Smith in the role] saying with a shrug, “If I’ve got to die, it would be nice to have some company.

These things came to mind this morning as Jesus predicts the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem, the persecution of His followers, and His eventual return “in power and glory.”

As I read the chapter, there was one little phrase that Jesus specifically uses that I have overlooked for my entirety of my forty years as a follower. He calls the signs of His prophetic events “birth pains.”

This brings to mind my last podcast episode in which I discussed the over-arching themes of the Great Story. One of them being:

Creation –> Destruction –> New Creation

So, the logical question I have to ask myself is: “What naturally happens after ‘birth pains’?”

A birth.

A new life.

A new start.

A beginning.

In the quiet this morning, I am reminded that Jesus told His followers not to worry, and not to be afraid, even in the midst of persecution, suffering, and apocalyptic predictions of incredible suffering and destruction.

It is ironic that Jesus encourages such faith and trust. It is just a day or two before He knows that He will endure incredible persecution, injustice, suffering, death, and hell. Jesus has prophesied that He will exemplify this apocalyptic, overarching Great Story theme. The events about to take place at the end of His own earthly journey are layered with meaning. They will be both a micro-human event and a macro-spiritual event. His trials, suffering, death, and resurrection are the “birth pains.” Even as Jesus says these words, amidst the escalation of conflict and the death threats of His enemies, He is feeling the contractions of His divine role in the Great Story. He is providing the example. He is blazing the trail. He is leading the way which does not end on the cross. It is the labor that will give birth to new life:

Life –> Death –> Resurrection

I am also reminded this morning that most apocalyptic movies and stories do not end with the depressing end of all things, but with the seeds of new hope being planted.

All good stories are a reflection of the Great Story.

 “I’ve told you all this so that trusting me, you will be unshakable and assured, deeply at peace. In this godless world you will continue to experience difficulties. But take heart! I’ve conquered the world.”

Jesus

And,” I imagine Jesus saying with a shrug, “if I’m going to live, I’d love to have some company.”