His Joy is Yours Now

Nehemiah 8:10, Amplified

The people of God are grieving; they are filled with sorrow. They are fully aware of their sin, and understand how awful they have become. They’re overwhelmed, and can’t really accept what God was doing.

Nehemiah and Ezra have their hands full.

Grief often turns into depression. Joyless living opens us to the pressures of Satan, and he tries to manipulate us to do his work. Now this is a terrible thing, and it’s also a sad way to live. Nehemiah understands what is happening.

Sometimes our emotions drive us, and we can see nothing but our sin. Our hearts are filled with melancholy and introspection. They closed their hearts to thankfulness and joy. Instead they wept, they could see little hope when Ezra read the Word from the pulpit.

Galatians 5:22 tells us that the Holy Spirit is residing within–it’s called “fruit” and it grows in the heart of an obedient believer who has submitted himself to God. It is not just a good attitude. Joy is never contingent on circumstances.

A few things to remember.

Joy is the evidence that He lives inside us. 

  1. We need a devotional life.
  2. Known sin must be renounced and forsaken.
  3. We must abandon the “works of the flesh.” (Gal. 5:19-20) 
  4. We must ask Him to fill us with His Spirit.
  5. We must learn how to worship authentically.

A key for me, I want to emphasize this, as I’ve finally seen this in my own discipleship– I need to pursue Jesus, and not joy itself. If I think that I will find joy apart from knowing Him, is wrong and perhaps a bit dangerous.

I will end this with something that must be thought through. I hope you will.

RC Sproul

Do You Belong in the Fellowship of Pain?

The hands of a leper

“In one of the villages, Jesus met a man with an advanced case of leprosy. When the man saw Jesus, he bowed with his face to the ground, begging to be healed. “Lord,” he said, “if you are willing, you can heal me and make me clean.”

Luke 5:12, NLT

The Bible text reveals a man who is desperate.  His leprosy has advanced; he is covered with it from ‘head-to-toe.’ He’s an outcast now, completely infected by something he never asked for; he is ‘unclean’ and completely without hope. There is no treatment, the doctors can do nothing.

The leper knows that without the touch of Jesus, he’ll never be healed. 

He knows it; he doesn’t need to be convinced by anyone over the complete hopelessness of his condition. He is lost. And yet he has heard that Jesus can do incredible miracles. Could it be that Jesus can heal his sickness? The leper comes and falls on his knees before the Lord, with his face in the dirt. This man is completely broken; he has no hope, except for Jesus. What else can he do?

Our diseases differ, but our lives have been completely changed by our pain. We all have this in common. 

Our pain and darkness vary. Some hurt more, some less. But we’ve all come to the place where we no longer have illusions of somehow being made whole. Whenever we meet, I think there should be a secret handshake or a password. We all share a comradeship— we’re all part of the same community.  We’re a broken club of tired and decidedly unclean misfits.

We belong to the fellowship of pain.

Lying in the dirt, we start to believe the unbelievable.  Our faith doesn’t activate our healing, as much as it simply guides us to Jesus. We can kneel, and perhaps that’s all we need to do. His presence drives away the fear, the doubt, and the pain. He’s come, and somehow we begin to hope for mercy. Only he can carry us through this.

In times past I’ve struggled with deep dark depression. I’ve had to take meds.  But when I come into Jesus’ presence, all my melancholy is driven out. He comes and I start to hope again.  Am I a stellar example of perfect discipleship?  I think not. But isn’t about us becoming “angels,” perhaps it’s more about us learning how to kneel, and to allow Jesus to touch our hearts.

You must do this, repeatedly.

“The power of the Church is not a parade of flawless people, but of a flawless Christ who embraces our flaws.”

“The Church is not made up of whole people, rather of the broken people who find wholeness in a Christ who was broken for us.”   

–Mike Yaconelli

alaskabibleteacher.com

Weak Eyes

Stuck in the wonders of scripture we read about Leah and her sister Rachel. We see the two daughters of Laban have become Jacob’s wives. We must step into Genesis 29 to see more.

Jacob longs for Rachel. She is his “soul mate” and because he’s in love, the customs and technicalities of the day somehow get by him. Because of this, he will have to take on Laban’s subtle trickery, where daughters get exchanged, and we must sort out who is who.

Laban’s deception creates a huge crisis for everyone. 

But it seems Jacob just rolls with it. I suppose deception has always been Jacob’s strong suit. (But when we see a deceiver like Jacob gets deceived, that can’t be all bad).

But it’s Leah that I tend to think about. Her own issues are unique. Genesis 29 explains it a bit cryptically,

“Leah’s eyes were weak, but Rachel was beautiful in form and appearance.” 

Genesis 29:17

You must know that there is confusion by commentators about the “weak eyes.” Some take it literally (as in, she is very “near-sighted,”) while others who look at the original Hebrew find the words to be a bit looser and vague. They tend to think that this is a polite way of saying she really wasn’t pretty.

The text also states that Leah was “hated.”

Genesis 29:30-31.

She is wounded, and life requires that she live as unwanted. She is a woman of tragedy and broken hopes and dreams. She will always live as a reject. At best, she will always be a distant second, and perhaps a bit scorned and neglected for this.

I conclude that Leah is the champion for the challenged.

I love Leah and I think I understand her. Her life is a long tragedy and very full of sadness. For the next 30-40 years she will always be a cast-off, someone who has been broken on life’s bitter vagaries. She’s a fellow struggler, and a survivor.

Her sad life is comparable to us who have to fight so hard over our own illness or handicaps.

She must’ve been challenged by her terrible weakness. I understand this. My own life has been “topsy-turvy” and a really hard struggle. Somehow it seems we must work through these things way too much.

It doesn’t seem fair. 

For those of you who are confined to a wheelchair, or must use a cane, or who deal with a physical or mental illness. Leah should be our hero. For those who have been betrayed by addiction, or who have felt rejected through a bitter divorce– Leah speaks to us.

She is for every loser and for failures of all stripes. But through all of our setbacks and messes, we must realize that God does love us– even as we weep.

We may have Leah’s eyes, but we also have His grace.

Psalm 139:14

I have a new site at alaskabibleteacher.com.

How to Die Well

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”

Psalm 23:4, ESV

“Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints.”

Psalm 116:15

“Death is like my car. It takes me where I want to go.” 

Pastor John Piper

Our generation simply doesn’t know how to die well.  There are many conflicting messages and attitudes which have steered us away from the reality of dying.  Much of it is the natural development of unbelief.  Our pop culture develops this and gives it momentum.  We are trying to convince ourselves that “death is impossible, my life will not end.”  But we’re escaping into a delusion. And it only intensifies as we age. 

We are running from what is real.

There is a Latin phrase,  Ars moriendi  (“The Art of Dying”) which the Church practiced in past generations.  In the past, Christians would be buried as close as possible to a Church building.  Many would be interred within the very walls of the Church.  The understanding was that the dead were part of the congregation.  That there was only a thin veil that stood between the living and the dead.  

The dead didn’t just vanish. They still live. We just don’t see them.

Our generation is confused.  We have forced death to wear a mask.  We insist on a significant camouflage to hide the reality of sickness and death.  No one really ever talks about it, and so no instructions are given on how to die well. So we don’t, and we die poorly–often in ICUs. We die sedated, separated and unable to process dying. We never help our families process it. 

For many, the fear of dying is intense and paralyzing.  

It’s time for the Church to step up and guide us to our next step.  Our pastors and elders have got to prepare us to die well.  It is a part of being a disciple.  It is discipleship, and dying is inclusive.  We need somebody to prepare us for the inevitable and the certainty that is approaching us.  I need someone that will help me face my own death.

You know what?  No one escapes.  

And the reality of that drives some of us mad, or addicted, or psychotic.  The idea of filling a casket up for forever is incomprehensible.  We cannot live with this sick idea of dying.  It disturbs us on the deepest level possible.  It is completely evil.

Psalm 23 has been pure comfort and healing for generations.  And it is an excellent starting point for us.  Verse 4 develops the idea of traversing death.  The writer has incredible insight of passing through death.  This verse alone is worth billions of dollars in gold.

Psalm 23 has been pure comfort and healing for generations.  And it is an excellent starting point for us.  Verse 4 develops the idea of traversing death.  The writer has incredible insight of passing through death. Psalm 23 has made me a very wealthy man.  His Word has become my rich treasure.

“Some day you will read in the papers that D.L. Moody of East Northfield, is dead. Don’t you believe a word of it! At that moment I shall be more alive than I am now; I shall have gone up higher, that is all, out of this old clay tenement into a house that is immortal- a body that death cannot touch, that sin cannot taint; a body fashioned like unto His glorious body.”

    D.L. Moody

No Doctor Could Heal Me

A woman suffering from bleeding for twelve years, who had spent all she had on doctors and yet could not be healed by any, approached from behind and touched the end of his robe. Instantly her bleeding stopped.

45 “Who touched me?” Jesus asked.

When they all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the crowds are hemming you in and pressing against you.”

Luke 8:43-45

(Matthew 9:20-22)

I just had to touch Him. I had to reach out and somehow get His attention. It was no longer an option. I bled all the time and it wouldn’t stop. It was constant, and it had been 12 miserable years. No one or nothing could cure this, no doctor, no medicine. I was so desperate. It had to stop, you must understand, I was dying.

I had spent so much money on so many doctors.

I had nothing left. Each doctor promised a cure and my hopes were always dashed. But then I heard about a teacher named Jesus, I was told He had the power to raise the dead and heal every disease He encountered. I don’t really know why, but instantly I knew only He could heal me.

I had an issue of blood, that meant I was ritually unclean and all that I touched became unclean. The temple was off-limits to me, I had been cut off from sacrifice and any kind of personal forgiveness for my sins. In my darker moments, I really wondered if God really had forsaken me? Was I damned?

After all, it had been 12 long years.

What I had to do must be done secretly and quietly. I knew I just somehow had to touch this man. I would have to wriggle my way through the crowd to get close enough. I would be violating ritual law and if I got caught and I’d be harshly censured and condemned. I was unclean and I knew only He could change that.

And I was always tired. Sometimes I barely could walk without feeling faint.

The crowds were packed all around Him, but honestly, I knew all I needed was just a simple touch. I knew Jesus had the power. I just knew it. I needed somehow to get close enough; I knew that everything depended on me somehow connecting with Him.

So I waited and watched. I tried to jockey myself and get in the right position. The crowds were tightly surrounding Jesus, I had to push, drive and squeeze. Sometimes I had to get on my hands and knees. But in that split second when He passed, I just managed to grab just the very outside corner of the tassel of His head covering.

And immediately the flow stopped. Just like that! I felt it inside, and immediately knew what happened. Finally I knew, deep down, I had been healed! I was clean.

_____

Please understand dear one, only Jesus can free you. If you can only reach out and touch Him, He will change you– forever.

Christ is the Good Physician. There is no disease He cannot heal; no sin He cannot remove; no trouble He cannot help.”

    James H. Aughey

alaskabibleteacher.com

A Proper Steward of Your Pain

Some time ago I came across a story that connected. A visiting speaker stood in front of a congregation and shared a painful incident from his childhood. He wanted to bring healing. After he spoke, an elder came and spoke to him–

“You have learned how to become a proper steward of your pain.”

The visiting speaker was profoundly touched by this. Finally, something came together in his heart and soul. Yes, he did learn how to deal scripturally with those ugly things from his past. He was becoming a proper steward of his pain.

The word for steward in the original Greek is oikonomos. It literally means “a keeper of a home.” It describes a manager, a superintendent to whom the head of the house or proprietor has entrusted the management of his affairs, the diligent care of receipts and expenditures.

The issue for us is managing these awful things for the Kingdom of God.

No question about it, we live in a world of darkness. Each of us has been touched by hard things. Scars are part of our lives. When we come to Christ they come with us. All of these grim things are a real piece of us, we have been hurt (or maybe we’ve wounded others?)

Are you a good steward of who you are? Whether it’s a trauma, a physical, sexual, or perhaps a mental illness. It’s a scar you carry from your past, and no one is immune from them it seems. You’ll find freedom if you can use these things for Him and his Kingdom.

We must see and understand that Jesus has taken everything and redeemed it all for His glory.

He understands us fully–our past, present, and future. He ‘knows’ us–the real and hidden us. The challenge I suppose is to take these sad events to the throne. He alone can heal and then use that which has devastated us.

Satan has afflicted you in his dark attempt to destroy you.

Jesus intervenes to save. As we grow to accept this, the Holy Spirit comes as our comforter and guide. He starts to teach us true redemption, and the incredible healing that he brings with him. It really is his work, not ours. We finally understand. It’s then we become broken healers that God can use.

(Read how Joseph handled betrayal: Genesis 50:19-21.)

The light has truly overcome the dark.

We’re being taught (sometimes very slowly) to carry all of these things and plead the blood of Jesus over our past. He covers us completely. He has redeemed us. Luke 1:68 explains much clearer than I can:

“Blessed is the Lord, the God of Israel because he has visited and provided redemption for his people.”

Becoming a steward of our pain is his doing. We’re able to touch others with these things that would cripple and destroy others. He has made us “managers” of these things, and we are taught to teach others, declaring that God has completely saved us. He works miracles!

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has passed away, and see, the new has come!”

2 Corinthians 5:17

We’ll sovereignly meet those who need to hear our story. We’re being transformed into authentic witnesses. Yes, at times these awful things still hurt, and I suppose that’s to be expected. But we’re learning to manage them. We’ve become real-life stewards of our pain.

That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good.”

Romans 8:28, Message

Disproportionate Suffering

“Some Christians are called to endure a disproportionate amount of suffering. Such Christians are a spectacle of grace to the church, like flaming bushes unconsumed, and cause us to ask, like Moses:

‘Why is this bush not burned up?’

The strength and stability of these believers can be explained only by the miracle of God’s sustaining grace. The God who sustains Christians in unceasing pain is the same God — with the same grace — who sustains me in my smaller sufferings. We marvel at God’s persevering grace and grow in our confidence in Him as He governs our lives.”

— John Newton, author of “Amazing Grace”

+++

All of us know a brother or sister who seems to be a target of an undue amount of suffering. It seems like they’re always in the furnace. All we can do really is to shake our heads and then give them double honor for their faith in God’s grace and providence.

Ministering to these extreme sufferers can be a real challenge.

What can we say to those who seem to be on “God’s anvil?” How can we bless those who are in unbelievable pain?

Perhaps a very simple word of calm encouragement is the only real way to touch their hearts. They often don’t need another teaching or a link to a website. In the midst of some awful difficulties, I once had a dear brother who gently and carefully quoted Philippians 1:6 to me over and over whenever we met and whenever we parted:

And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.”

Philippians 1:6

It was a precious thing that he did. I didn’t mind it all, as a matter of fact, I grew to like it. At first, I’ll admit it was strange, but my faith began to ‘mix’ with the Word and I began to believe it. It’s now my favorite verse in the Bible.

He refused to preach or counsel me. The light he carried was more than enough.

He had the maturity to see what God was doing and to make himself available to God on my behalf. Perhaps that patience he showed should become our own method of choice? I look forward to seeing him someday, someway. (If you hear someone quoting Philippians 1:6 in heaven, that will probably be Fred.) 🙂

“We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance.”

Romans 5:3

A keyword in this verse is “rejoice.”

It is a good reminder that the pain we feel is not the end. These trials have a limited duration (although admittedly it seems far away). There is coming a day when we can navigate through these issues and come out on the other side. “We will shine like the stars” (Daniel 12:3).

Much wisdom is needed in our ministry to disproportionate sufferers. We should have a fear of intruding on the work the Lord is doing. We must be patient and humble in this matter. There is no rushing God, after all, it’s His work. Most importantly we must be very much ‘present’ for our friend.

But not only that! We even take pride in our problems, because we know that trouble produces endurance,

Romans 5:3

A word spoken out of place can cause even more ‘heartache’ for the sufferer. Let us be careful. At times it’s better not to say anything, and that’s alright. Remember, Job’s friends were best sitting in the ash heap, saying nothing.  

The Lord God gives me
the right words
to encourage the weary.
Each morning he awakens me
eager to learn his teaching.
Isaiah 50:4, CEB

Ask the Father to guide you. Be gentle. Be there. He will give you, in His time, a good word for them.

Speaking His Language

Peter Warms Himself

“The girl asked Peter, “Aren’t you one of Jesus’ disciples?”

“No,” he said, “I am not!”

“The police and the household servants were standing around a fire they had made, for it was cold. And Peter stood there with them, warming himself.”

John 18:17-18, Living Bible

The Galileans had a distinct accent. Just as we easily identify someone from Texas just by the tone and cadence of their speech, Peter had that distinct drawl that told everyone that he came from the same province as Jesus. It was something he couldn’t hide.

Peter was a very different man in his three years of being with Jesus. And you might say that had transformed him–you might even say that he was now a marked man, the enemy was now quite aware of him. He was no longer a captain of a small fishing boat looking for a catch. He was now the leader of Jesus’ disciples.

The entire text (18:15-18) reveals a confrontation that Peter had with a servant girl, and we hear him making a bald-faced lie. At this very moment, Peter was fulfilling the “promise” that Jesus had predicted (Matthew 26:31-32).

What was going through Peter’s head at that moment? She was a simple servant girl, perhaps one who ministered at the gate of the high priest’s home. It’s interesting that she is the first one to question Peter’s duplicity. Most likely she was just doing her job, watching and listening. She was probably quite alert.

It’s easy to point our finger at Peter.

He was a coward, and when he was put on the spot he bailed. People hate cowards–we extol those who take a definite stand against evil. But he was frightened, scared of being connected with Jesus–the man on trial. There was much at stake here.

We also speak with an accent. I know it might be a stretch–but being with Jesus has fundamentally changed us. Our lives now have a specific dialect that others hear, we’re not the same people that we once were.

We open our mouths and others hear the Kingdom of God. (Such as it is.)

Sometimes I try to pretend that I haven’t been with Jesus, and I’m very ashamed of that. Like Peter, I stand with the others and choose to warm myself by their fire, and I try very hard to make myself inconspicuous. But all I have to do is open my mouth, and I betray who I really am.

It’s hilarious, but even servant girls know that I belong to him.

“To stand before the Holy One of eternity is to change.”

Richard Foster

When Pain is All You Can Think About

Sometimes we live in darkness. We suffer and it’s hard. We mentally accept God’s grace and His love for us, but in our heart we remain untouched. Pain saturates everything it seems. We seem to go through the motions, but deep down we’re convinced that we’ll never find the light that so many claim to have.

Are we “cursed?”

Pain fills our life. We live with something that is persistent, and our hope is a day when it’s all over. Psalm 88 is our Psalm. Nothing is sugar-coated. It is raw and unabridged. It’s pain under a microscope. That Psalm is yours.

For my soul is full of troubles,

    and my life draws near to Sheol.

I am counted among those who go down to the pit;

    I am a man who has no strength,

Psalm 88:3-4

Catching Men

“The Morning of the Fisherman,” Valentina Kostadinva, oil

“And so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. And Jesus said to Simon,

“Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men.”

Luke 5:10

Fear is an ugly thing, it turns men into timid cowards who cannot really trust God. Simon Peter is promised courage. Throughout his life this will be a constant battle for him. It seems like Simon Peter will always struggle with what people will think about him. He is ‘crippled’ and he needs Jesus to intervene. And He does.

I remember Jody and I were sent out by a pastor to do “door-to-door” evangelism. I was terrified. We knocked on a door and then I sort of freaked out, I left her on the porch and hid behind a tree. Witnessing scared me. She shared Jesus while I ran away. How ‘Peter-like’ I am.

“Catching men” is a reference to Peter’s occupation as a fisherman. Jesus speaks so Peter will understand. He expresses evangelism in a way that describes the work of the Kingdom. Fishing describes the main task of the believer. All too often we’re ‘fixed’ on self-improvement, and our vision becomes blurred. Evangelism is to be our work.

“Evangelism is not a professional job for a few trained men, but is instead the unrelenting responsibility of every person who belongs to the company of Jesus.”

-Elton Trueblood