Timothy was given a remedy for stomach issues, (1 Tim. 5:23)
Paul had to suffer his “thorn in the flesh,” (2 Cor. 12:7)
I find this moderately disturbing. In over 35 years of ministry I have seen a lot. I once prayed over a saint who had a leg that was shorter than the other. She walked in a painful limp, and yet in a brief second, her leg grew. I’ve prayed over terrible fevers, and I instantly saw it leave. I know God heals. He does wonders still.
And yet there has been prayer that doesn’t make it beyond the ceiling.
For believers today who suffer physically or mentally, we may question our faith. (Especially when the healing evangelist comes to town). After 2-3 tries we settle back on our “deficient’ faith feeling a bit miserable.
I honestly don’t think that’s what the Lord wants.
It seems to me that the real issue is not so much a weak faith, but holding on to your faith when you are not healed.
I hear talk about having faith to be healed–but what about the faith that’s needed to be sick?
Why do we suffer from illness? I suspect that for many believers sickness is really there to bring glory to God. Holding onto faith in the midst of pain often encourages those who witness it. I believe that was Paul’s experience (2 Cor. 12:7-10).
Oh dear one, continue to seek healing, (James 5:14).
Healing will happen. We look forward to that special day when all our sin, and all our sickness will be eternally dealt with. Those ugly and painful and savage things will no longer be part of us. We’ll walk unencumbered by earth’s ugly shackles.
“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”
“While Jesus and his followers were traveling, Jesus went into a town. A woman named Martha let Jesus stay at her house. 39 Martha had a sister named Mary, who was sitting at Jesus’ feet and listening to him teach. 40 But Martha was busy with all the work to be done. She went in and said, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me alone to do all the work? Tell her to help me.”
41 “But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things.
42 Only one thing is important. Mary has chosen the better thing, and it will never be taken away from her.”
My name is Martha and I’m a friend of Jesus. My home was one of His favorite places to stay–a refuge for Him whose life was so busy. I joyfully opened my house for Him and His disciples. When Jesus came I went all out, I wanted the best for His followers and that meant there were always things to do. Is that really a bad thing?
The kitchen was getting crazy–lamb, cucumbers, figs, and so on. Roasting and slicing, I had bread in the oven. All of this was requiring constant attention, and I remember not being able to keep up.
I wanted things to be perfect for Jesus.
I took occasional peeks at He who was teaching in my living room. I just brought in some bowls of figs and raisins as an appetizer and found my sister Mary sitting with the men listening to Jesus and asking questions. It was that which started to get a little ticked off.
I was getting really mad at my sister.
There was so much to do and I realized I had to have her help. And the more I thought of Mary the more frustrated I got. I suspect she didn’t understand the work that need to be done. I suppose her priorities were messed up–she simply didn’t understand her role as a hostess, and to sit with the men like she was doing was wrong.
Mary didn’t understand her place.
I admit I was having issues with my sister. I had brought out another bowl of figs and that’s when I gently interrupted the Lord’s teaching. I wanted Him to tell Mary that her place was with me in the kitchen. He could correct her and I knew she would listen. “Tell her to help me.”
Instead, it was Jesus who corrected me. I still remember Jesus’ words. I wasn’t expecting this.
“Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things.”
Was I really that transparent? He understood, but rather than encouraging me I had become another lesson to everyone present. I realize now that the real issue was with my attitude, and not the work. Yes, I was bothered and upset and I know that it’s those things that were the problem.
“Only one thing is important. Mary has chosen the better thing, and it will never be taken away from her.”
I suddenly knew that He was right. Jesus was in my home, and all I did was get angry. I thought my work would please Him and after all, wasn’t that important? Didn’t He “deserve” my best efforts?
My younger sister Mary was being praised. She was my example and now I was being gently rebuked. I realized that all I was doing, all my work, was not what Jesus wanted from me. The problem was my own heart—-it wasn’t Mary, it was me!
I had taken my eyes off of Jesus and was immersed in my service to Him.
I had become critical and resentful of Mary, and I had forgotten that my place was at Jesus’ feet, listening and learning. That’s what Jesus wanted from me, and somehow I had forgotten that.
I decided then, the work could wait, my real place was with Jesus.
“Martha’s frustration is typical of those who diligently serve with good intent, but forget to also sit at Jesus’ feet. “The Martha spirit says, if the work is done, is not that all? The Mary spirit asks whether Jesus is well pleased or not? All must be done in his name and by his Spirit, or nothing is done.”
O Lord, my heart is not lifted up; my eyes are not raised too high; I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me. 2 But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me.
Psalm 131:1-2, ESV
To be humble [Hebrew, anavah] means that we recognize our boundaries. We will not advance by stepping beyond what God has ordained for us. We learn to be content with the present. Humility is not thinking less of yourself, but thinking of yourself less. It puts others first.
In Psalm 131 we begin the walk into “anavah.” We’re brought by God into a place where we understand who we really are. Our lives are not characterized by self-promotion, but rather serving God and advancing others before ourselves.
The image is one of being a weaned child resting on a mother’s chest. We have no agenda, there is nothing that we must do, but just relax on Him.
Seeing a weaned baby is one who no longer needs its mother’s milk. There’s no fussing or grasping for nourishment, rather he’s simply content to rest in his mother’s warm embrace.
To practice true humility, or the Hebrew word “anavah,” it is to renounce ambition in all its insidious forms. As Jesus’ disciples we follow Him with our cross. That cross puts the end of our old life. And we die daily. And it is obvious to all.
“And since I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you ought to wash each other’s feet. I have given you an example to follow. Do as I have done to you.”
“We had long known the Lord without realizing that meekness and lowliness of heart should be the distinguishing feature of the disciple.”
“But his delight is in the law of the Lord, and on his law he meditates day and night.”
Psalm 1:2
Meditation has gotten a bad rap among some Christians, largely due to a connection with Eastern mysticism. This is really unfortunate for it has a critical place in the development of your discipleship. I believe it’s vital (and maybe even mandatory?)
Hagah is the Hebrew word for ‘meditation’ and it fascinates me.
It literally means to “moan, growl, utter, muse, or mutter.” Some have suggested that it contains the idea of ‘rumination,’ like a cow who chews a cud. The grass goes in, and it’s regurgitated several times, extracting every bit of nutrients and vitamins.
Hagah, or to meditate is the way we assimilate God’s Word into our lives. It’s critical that we do this in our walk as disciples that belong to Jesus.
“This Book of the Law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate [hagah] on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do according to all that is written in it. For then you will make your way prosperous, and then you will have good success.”
Joshua 1:8, ESV
It’s an interesting command isn’t it? Joshua’s ministry is to lead God’s people and requires his deep connection to God’s promises. He needs to hagah God’s words, to purposefully think about them over and over and over.
It’s interesting to me that when Joshua meditates and carefully responds to the Word then he will receive success in his life and ministry. The word ‘success’ means “wisdom, comprehension, insight with prosperity.” I need that desperately.
And if Joshua needed to do this, might not we?
Start small and simple. There are over 8,000 promises in the Bible–pick one and ruminate on it. Hagah on the Word and try to extract the spiritual nutrients that it contains. You will grow, bless others, and walk in victory, defeating your enemy.
“The amount of time we spend with Jesus – meditating on His Word and His majesty, seeking His face – establishes our fruitfulness in the kingdom.”
When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled. 34 And he said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Lord, come and see.” 35 Jesus wept. 36 So the Jews said, “See how he loved him!”
Jesus Raises Lazarus
38 Then Jesus, deeply moved again, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone lay against it. 39 Jesus said, “Take away the stone.” Martha, the sister of the dead man, said to him, “Lord, by this time there will be an odor, for he has been dead four days.” 40 Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believed you would see the glory of God?”
So they took away the stone. And Jesus lifted up his eyes and said, “Father, I thank you that you have heard me. 42 I knew that you always hear me, but I said this on account of the people standing around, that they may believe that you sent me.” 43 When he had said these things, he cried out with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out.” 44 The man who had died came out, his hands and feet bound with linen strips, and his face wrapped with a cloth.
Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.”
My name is Lazarus and I was a special “friend” of Jesus. We liked being with each other, and my sisters Mary and Martha also enjoyed fellowshipping with Him. Whenever He passed through Bethany, Jesus always had an open invitation to visit.
What’s it like to be dead? Many ask me this, and I suppose they want to understand, and I don’t blame them. To me, it seemed like a very deep sleep–but I didn’t dream. Those who look for any special insight, will not find it from me. And yet, I am His witness. He has incredible power over death.
I heard Him call my name.
It pierced through everything with an authority I’d never heard before. I had been laid in my tomb for 4 days and my physical body had begun to putrefy. When they rolled the stone away the terrible smell of death lay heavy in the air.
I was tightly bound in cotton wraps and sticky spices had been applied to my body. Mary and Martha had objected to Jesus’ attempt. As I looked back I realize that their actions were justified. After all, who can give life when one is very much dead. And not only dead but well on the way on to decay. The smell wafted from my tomb.
I had heard His shout, and it was then death was reversed.
My heart and brain began to work again. When I came to I found that I was lying on a stone table and tightly wrapped in the clothes of the dead. I managed to sit up, and I shuffled toward the light that had entered the tomb by the stone that covered the door.
When Jesus saw me I believe that He was laughing. He gave the command to the shocked bystanders, He commanded them to unwrap me. I suppose that then I realized I was now in the land of the living. I can’t explain what had happened, But my grave clothes were unwrapped.
There were many that day that became believers.
Many had attested that I was most certainly dead, after all, they had attended my funeral. Some had observed that I had been slathered in the sticky ointment–fragrant spices. And a few were witnesses to see the stone rolled in place.
There were some who simply didn’t (or wouldn’t) believe.
There were the Pharisees and the Sadducees who wanted me dead hoping to nullify my witness and my resurrection from the dead. I had become an embarrassment to them, a constant reminder that Jesus had defeated death.
Their hatred of Jesus’ ministry was only strengthened. My own resurrection proved His authority and power over even death. I was a walking and breathing miracle that they refused to accept. It got so bad that the religious leaders wanted to kill me because so many believed in my resurrection. I was a living witness to many.
Yes, I know that I’ll die again. But I’m not afraid anymore.
“He alone can believe in immortality who feels the resurrection in him already.“
A dear Christian friend has built his own coffin. He now uses it as a coffee table in his living room until the day he dies. I’m told that Trappist monks next to their monastery an open grave, a constant reminder of the certainty of death. When they file past it, they understand that everyone must die.
Do you see death-smiling as a type of leer or as an evil grin upon the face of an enemy that is about to bring you pain? Or is the smile a gentle one that offers solace at a time when fear may be raging?
“You sweep people away like dreams that disappear. They are like grass that springs up in the morning. 6 In the morning it blooms and flourishes, but by evening it is dry and withered.”
Psalm 90:4-6
In ancient Israel, Psalm 39 served as a “memento mori”—a reminder of human mortality. “Oh LORD, make me know my end and what is the measure of my days; let me know how fleeting I am!” (v. 4). David understood that life is somewhat insignificant in the light of eternity.
Remember that you must die someday.
“None of us can hold back our spirit from departing. None of us has the power to prevent the day of our death. There is no escaping that obligation, that dark battle.”
Ecclesiastes 8:7-8
Memento mori is a reminder of the inevitability of death. Jesus’s words, “Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds” (John 12:24).
As we adopt the reality of dying we must refuse the worldly ideas of death:
Our fear
Our doubts
Our frustration and cynicism
The loneliness
Satanic attack
“Let your hope of heaven master your fear of death.”
In the New Testament, Jesus exhorts his disciples to pick up their crosses daily and to remember their death as they follow him to the Place of the Skull: “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me” (Lk 9:23).
Remembering one’s death is an absolutely essential aspect of the Christian life, not only because it helps us to live well but also because it helps us to remember what Christ has done for us.
As you integrate memento mori into your life, you will find more fruit in the practice if you are able to connect within the community of the Church who are on the same journey. Talk with family and close friends about your journey.
Knowing you’re going to die and face a certain judgement is a bit unnerving. It’s also a definite way of defeating sinful habits. When we understand this, much evil is now avoided and renounced. Yes, you’re barreling into a real encounter with God. That you can be sure.
Our judgement is very much real. But we have a perfect plea. Jesus has paid the price for us. It’s His blood that delivers us and fully redeems us. Standing (or kneeling) we realize the love and mercy He has for us. When we stand before God, we stand complete.
“Death is no more than passing from one room into another. But there’s a difference for me, you know. Because in that other room I shall be able to see.”
We’re fully and irrevocably forgiven. You can be sure of that. We can smile at death, knowing that it leads us into a perfect connection. Are you afraid? Yes, I understand. But know, if you’ve accepted Jesus as your Savior and Lord, the payment for all your sins, you’re forgiven.
The subject of “the pool at Bethesda” alludes to the Thorton Wilder play, “The Angel that Troubled the Waters.”
The play tells of a physician who comes to the pool of Bethesda, hoping to see the stir, and then be the first in the water, and healed of his debilitating depression. An angel appears and troubles the water. Everybody at the pool hopes to be the first one in and to be healed of their disability.
An angel appears and blocks a physician at the very moment he is about to step into the pool and be healed.
Angel: “Drawback, physician, this moment is not for you.”
Physician: “Angelic visitor, I pray thee, listen to my prayer.
Angel: “This healing dear physician, is not for you.”
Physician: “Surely, surely, the angels are wise. Surely, O Prince, you are not deceived by my apparent wholeness. Your eyes can see the nets in which my wings are caught; the sin into which all my endeavors sink half-performed, cannot be concealed from you.”
Angel: “I know.”
Physician: “Oh, in such an hour was I born, and doubly fearful to me is the flaw in my heart. Must I drag my shame, Prince and Singer, all my days more bowed than my neighbor?”
“It is your very sadness that makes your low voice tremble into the hearts of men. The very angels themselves, cannot persuade the wretched, and blundering children on earth, as can one human being broken on the wheels of living.
“In Love’s service, only the wounded soldiers can serve. Drawback.”
Later, the person who enters the pool first, and was healed rejoices in his good fortune, then turns to the physician before leaving and says:
“But come with me first, an hour only, to my home. My son is lost in dark thoughts. I — I do not understand him, and only you have ever lifted his mood.”
“Only an hour… my daughter… since her child has died, sits in the shadow. She will not listen to us, but she will listen to you.”
The play pierces me with this line— “Without your wound where would your power be?“ That thought causes me to look at my many weaknesses with an entirely different perspective.
Paul’s teachings offer us a powerful revelation: it is through our weaknesses that we can authentically minister to others, just as Jesus did by going to the cross. This priniple slowly permeates my understanding, and emphasizes the reasons behind my weaknesses.
Paul boldly declares that it is the very things we perceive as weak that have the potential to cultivate strength and truth within us and to others. It is my sincere hope that the ministry of alaskabibleteacher.com will impact lives by declaring this.
I hope so anyway. Please pray for me. I desperately need it.
I first encountered this excerpt in the book, “Abba’s Child: The Cry of the Heart for Intimate Belonging,” by Brennan Manning. The book is a worthy read, and worth finding if you can. The play is based on the biblical verses of John 5:1-4, however, it changes the end of the parable. The play is fictitious.
“Why have you made me your target?…Why do you hide your face?…Why should I struggle in vain?…Why does the Almighty not set times for judgment?…Why then did you bring me out of the womb?”
Job 7:20, 13:24, 9:29, 24:1, 10:18
Job’s profound suffering is one of the most extreme in all of human history. He is essentially a godly man who loses everything (except his faith). Job must pick up the pieces after “catastrophic ” sudden pain and total loss.
Only the brutality of the cross of Jesus eclipsed the suffering of Job.
Job is being tested with dark horrors. Will he “curse God and die” as his wife suggests? Will he cave in to the final four “friends” and accept their twisted theology? (I guess that you have to read chapters 38-39 to find out).
The Book of Job has been regarded as inaccessible and archaic by many.
Unfortunately, many believe this assessment and look elsewhere for comfort. I would agree that Job is a challenging book, but so is Macbeth or Plato. There are plenty of easier books to read; but if we choose to avoid Job, our faith will always be deficient. We will miss something vital.
Job is less an explanation and more a revelation of suffering. “Why” questions go unanswered. “Who” questions matter. I suppose this seems unfair to Job. It certainly seems so to me, but straight answers in a fallen world won’t get any traction at all.
One more thing. The Book of Job is about “twisted” theology. Job’s friends “toe-the-party-line” of theology that is logical. But don’t be mislead by their pronouncements, for they seem reasonable but they are all very much flawed.
I always find it strangely amusing when some quote Eliphaz or one of the other “friends” to encourage or comfort a suffering saint. They totally miss the point of the book. We desperately want to give out good counsel but we really don’t understand.
Very often their doctrine is a doctrine devoid of love.
“If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.” 1 Cor. 13:2
You can’t split your theology from love and get away with it. Something toxic happens if you try.
When you read “Job’s friends” you must remember that. These are lessons it takes a long time to learn. Unless the Holy Spirit tutors you, be very slow to speak. (Job’s friends were at their best at the beginning when they said nothing at all.)
The broken believer, hobbled by chronic illness, has much to learn from Job. He is like “the poster child” for those afflicted. My own illnesses are always an issue of course, but God is fully in control. He brings beauty out of the ashes. He has been more than gracious.
In my pain I cling to this promise found in Isaiah 61.
“To bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor.” Isaiah 61:3
“The moment an ill can be patiently handled, it is disarmed of its poison, though not of its pain.” Henry Ward Beecher
“At that time the kingdom of heaven will be like ten virgins who took their lamps and went out to meet the groom. 2 Five of them were foolish and five were wise. 3 When the foolish took their lamps, they didn’t take oil with them; 4 but the wise ones took oil in their flasks with their lamps. 5 When the groom was delayed, they all became drowsy and fell asleep.
6 “In the middle of the night there was a shout: ‘Here’s the groom! Come out to meet him.’
7 “Then all the virgins got up and trimmed their lamps. 8 The foolish ones said to the wise ones, ‘Give us some of your oil, because our lamps are going out.’
9 “The wise ones answered, ‘No, there won’t be enough for us and for you. Go instead to those who sell oil, and buy some for yourselves.’
10 “When they had gone to buy some, the groom arrived, and those who were ready went in with him to the wedding banquet, and the door was shut. 11 Later the rest of the virgins also came and said, ‘Master, master, open up for us!’“
12 “He replied, ‘Truly I tell you, I don’t know you!’“
13 “Therefore be alert, because you don’t know either the day or the hour.“
There were three stages in every ancient Jewish wedding.
Engagement–when fathers got together to make sure that it would be a good match.
Betrothal—a ceremony in which formal promises were made by the lovers.
Marriage—a surprise arrival, usually a year later, by the groom at the home of the woman.
Each was incredibly important. There couldn’t be any short-cuts; one just didn’t jump into this. It wasn’t a Las Vegas approach to just getting hitched. This parable was an extension of the previous verses in Matthew 24:36-51 and had to do with being prepared.
We can extract this from the third step of marriage. The groom would show up at night, and torches were used to light their way, (apparently the flashlight hadn’t been invented yet). Within Jesus’ parable was the idea of suddenness or surprise.
But no one knew exactly when the groom would show up.
Hence there is an emergency feel to this story. The text states in verse 5:
“Five of them were foolish and five were wise.”
The story hinges on this sentence. Readiness is the issue here. Everything of any significance must take on the sudden arrival of the groom’s entourage. The virgins, apparently, would go out to meet him—the torches mingling their light, and drive out any darkness. (It seems that 10 was the acceptable number for a proper rabbinical ceremony).
The problem was that only 1/2 of them were ready. It’s interesting to note that everyone was sleeping. Obviously, that didn’t mean anything for it was the availability of “oil” that would make the difference. The idea was a surprise visit.
The oil was the key. And for us, it represents the Holy Spirit.
Sleep is not the whole issue here, but being prepared is. Five girls were foolish, they were simply not ready. They realized their error and tried to finagle oil from the others, but ultimately that would short everyone in their group. There was an idea that a trip to the local oil merchant would work. It was an idea anyway.
But it was already too late!
The door was closed. The five simply missed it. They stood outside knocking and calling, but they didn’t enter in on time. Reading between the lines, I sense they were desperate. Verse 12 is meant to penetrate and reveal the price of tolerating spiritual sloth.
“He replied, ‘Truly I tell you, I don’t know you!’“
The purpose of this parable is the ending line that stresses alertness in a society that dulls everything. The temptation is to act like you’re spiritually aware when you’re not. It’s one of our greatest sins. We assume our lamps are lit when the reality is that our oil (the Holy Spirit) is running close to zero. When our sloth gets mixed with hypocrisy it’ll surely destroy us.
We’re snoring our way to spiritual death.
We must resist slumber and slothfulness. Jesus asserts that his virgins must be prepared and ready for his coming. We must be ready, we must—the price of our unreadiness is high indeed.
“Take care of giving up your first zeal; beware of cooling in the least degree. Ye were hot and earnest once; be hot and earnest still, and let the fire which once burnt within you still animate you. Be ye still men of might and vigor, men who serve their God with diligence and zeal.”
“So Jesus said to the Jews who had believed him, “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples.”
John 8:31
Being a disciple of Jesus is serious business. We’re learning to walk in His footsteps, and we do this through God’s grace and mercy. It takes discipline, and that can be hard. In 1729 a group of Christian believers started meeting at Oxford University with the intention of becoming more accountable in their walk.
They became known as the “Holy Club.”
Here are 22 questions they asked themselves in their private times with Jesus.
Am I consciously or unconsciously creating the impression that I am better than I really am? In other words, am I a hypocrite?
Am I honest in all my acts and words, or do I exaggerate?
Do I confidentially pass on to another what was told to me in confidence?
Can I be trusted?
Am I a slave to dress, friends, work, or habits?
Am I self-conscious, self-pitying, or self-justifying?
Did the Bible live in me today?
Do I give it time to speak to me everyday?
Am I enjoying prayer?
When did I last speak to someone else about my faith?
Do I pray about the money I spend?
Do I get to bed on time and get up on time?
Do I disobey God in anything?
Do I insist upon doing something about which my conscience is uneasy?
Am I defeated in any part of my life?
Am I jealous, impure, critical, irritable, touchy, or distrustful?
How do I spend my spare time?
Am I proud?
Do I thank God that I am not as other people, especially as the Pharisees who despised the publican?
Is there anyone whom I fear, dislike, disown, criticize, hold a resentment toward or disregard? If so, what am I doing about it?
Do I grumble or complain constantly?
Is Christ real to me?
“We have suffered from the preaching of cheap grace. Grace is free, but it is not cheap. People will take anything that is free, but they are not interested in discipleship. They will take Christ as Savior but not as Lord.”
Alaska Bible Teacher 