Saturday, April 25, 2020

Thou Art With Me

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." Psalm 23:4

The 23rd Psalm is one of the most beloved, recognized and memorized passage of Scripture in all of the Bible.  It is the "go to" resource in times of fear, sorrow, grief and pain when strength and reassurance are needed.  It is also a source of great encouragement and a reminder of the provision, protection and great love of God toward his own.

As we endure the COVID-19 induced crisis, we find ourselves in the midst of the worst human and economic tragedy of our lifetime.  People are dying, losing loved ones, and losing jobs, homes and hope.  It is at times like these that the 23rd Psalm breaks through like the rotating beam of a cliff top lighthouse in the midst of a tempestuous storm, verse 4 in particular.

I marvel at the power and depth of the verse.  Essentially it supplies that we can be fearless in the darkest of circumstances (as dark as death itself), due to the presence, care and leadership of God.  To get the full impact of what is being expressed, it is important to know that God is our personal Shepherd whose function is to care for his sheep.  He does so by personally guiding us to places of rest, sustenance and refreshment.  It is also important to know that the path on which he leads us is one of righteousness.  It is while following that Shepherd on that path that we can find ourselves in "the valley of the shadow of death."  That tells us that 1) the path of righteousness can go through some very dark places, but it is no less the path of righteousness and 2) that no matter how dark the times or places, the Shepherd has not abandoned us but goes ahead of us, protecting us and charting our course to light.  If a third consideration were to be added, it would be that as long as we stay on the path and keep the Shepherd in front of us, there is no cause for fear at all.

Beloved, having recently done an in depth study of this passage, it has become one of the most significant in my life.  I have always known that it was there but I now have a fuller understanding of what it means, particularly in dark times like these.  It is my prayer that you would take another look and reconsider what the Spirit of God is revealing to you.

May we all find confidence, comfort and peace in the presence, protection and provision of our Lord.

Increasing in faith,

Lee

Friday, April 17, 2020

Who is Your God?

“Men of Athens, I observe that you are very religious in all respects. For while I was passing through and examining the objects of your worship, I also found an altar with this inscription, ‘TO AN UNKNOWN GOD.’ Therefore what you worship in ignorance, this I proclaim to you." Acts 17:22-23

The apostle Paul found himself in Athens, Greece, the one time center of the civilized world and the home of things such as democracy, the world's prevalent language and perhaps most importantly, philosophy (which literally means "love of wisdom"). It was a popular thing for intellectuals and "wanna be" intellectuals to sit around thinking about and discussing many things, such as existence, logic, aesthetics, morality and religion. As was his custom, Paul began to share the way of God with all who listened. The people were inclined to hear because they were always interested in being exposed to something new as if they wanted to be on the leading edge of the newest fad philosophy. Some believed and some did not.

Beloved, humanity has changed little. Everyone still has an opinion about everything and it is not difficult to attract followers to just about anything. There is no credible way to accurately quantify the number of religions practiced on the planet. Suffice it to say, most everyone is looking to believe in something higher than themselves that will eventually answer all of our questions.  For this dilemma, Paul offers the one true living God.

Even in Christ, we must ask ourselves what we truly believe. It is true that we may claim Christianity and even attend worship in a church building, but who do we truly serve? Is it our possessions? Our relationships? Our vocations? Our habits? If you are unsure, examine where you spend most of your time and resources. This may very well be a strong indicator.

Surely God wants us all to have life, and that more abundantly. But let us always remember who provides that life. Let us remember that, "The God who made the world and all things in it, since He is Lord of heaven and earth, does not dwell in temples made with hands; nor is He served by human hands, as though He needed anything, since He Himself gives to all people life and breath and all things; and He made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined their appointed times and the boundaries of their habitation," Acts 17:24-26.

Increasing in faith,

Lee

Friday, April 10, 2020

Which One Was My Candle? A Good Friday Remembrance

"And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice saying, 'Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?' that is to say, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?"  Matthew 27:46

Beloved, despite its sad origin, happy Good Friday!  I'd like to share with you an experience I had several years ago on this date that still resonates today.  I suspect we do not meditate on the importance of Good Friday very much these days as we go about our busy lives, but it is my hope that sharing this experience will cause us to reflect, even for a moment, on one of the most important days in all Christendom.

***

I'd like to share with you one of the most moving experiences of my life. Interestingly enough, it happened quite unexpectedly and even at this writing, some 12 hours later, I'm still a bit numb.

Last night, our youth minister, Chris Hughes, and several of the congregation's young people put together a Good Friday Service. Truth be told, I had never heard of such a thing. But Chris is kind of a spunky guy who has a great love for the Lord and is always wanting to try something new (you know how youth ministers are).

The service began with each person being required to light a candle in the foyer before entering the sanctuary. Once inside, Chris informed those who had gathered about what the service would consist of in pretty specific detail. He warned that it would be a heavy service and that it was not designed to bring joy, but to put us in the place of a disciple during the time of the trial, scourging and crucifixion. The service was to be lit primarily by candle, leaving participants mostly in the dark. I made note that he said that at the conclusion of the service, anyone who had the need or desire to stay could have all the time they needed. Little did I know that I would be the last to leave his seat.

Billed as a multi-sensory experience, the service began with a video montage, consisting primarily of clips from the film, "The Passion." If you've ever seen the movie, you know how much it can move you around emotionally. It started right there for me. It went downhill from there.

A chorus made up of the youth, Chris and the Horn family sang a beautiful song that seemed to both frame and echo the emotional content of the video's last scene; Mary was holding the battered and bleeding corpse of her dead son as the wind whipped her hair and tears cascaded down her face.

There then came a very well done dramatic presentation written by Megan Schwartz that represented the anger, despondency and confusion felt by Christ's apostles immediately after his death. By this point, I was, as the saying goes, all in. I was no longer aware of sitting in the third pew in a business suit, fulfilling my obligation to the members of our congregation by being present to support Chris and his efforts. I was there. 2000 years ago. I was there. It was happening to me. It was as if I had just witnessed the crucifixion of God's son whom I personally knew and had followed for years. It is difficult to explain...and it got worse.

The next portion of the service involved a reading of the account of Christ's ordeal from his arrest in the Garden of Gethsemane to the time he hung his head and died. Chris and the kids took turns reading the account. Of course these are passages that we've read dozens or even hundreds of times. I was struck, despite my familiarity with the words, by how they hung in the air, rang in my ears and drilled down to my soul. The words seemed to have come to literal life. Even this was tremendously amplified by the fact that at every juncture in the scripture that an injustice was done or a betrayal committed, a candle on stage was blown out. It was painful to watch and I must admit that my eyes were either closed or looking at my hands the majority of the time. Hearing those words, picturing those images, feeling the weight of what Jesus went through and why, examining my own life and it's place in the scheme of why such a sacrifice was necessary, and watching Samantha Hearn step forward and blow those candles out at juncture after juncture was more than I could stand.

I wondered which candle would have been mine.

By the time the next to last candle had been blown out, I was barely coherent. Chris had earlier explained that when the last candle was blown out, the candle representing Jesus' life, the service would be over. After hearing the words of the soldier's spear piercing Jesus' side, only to find him already dead reverently and somberly read, Samantha approached the last light in the room, which poetically and ironically enough was placed on the altar, and disappeared with it behind the table. For a moment there was a glow that cast shadows...

...and then it was gone.

The sanctuary had fallen into the darkness reminiscent of the darkness that fell on that day 2000 years ago at Golgotha between noon and three.

Chris' voice intoned, "As you leave, note that the only light left is that from the candles you lit in the foyer before you came in. The only light left is the light in you."

I don't know how long I sat there.

I don't know how long I sat there suffering under the weight of it all. There were so many thoughts running through my head. There were so many emotions running through my soul. There was an overwhelming sense of sadness, grief, blame and responsibility. It felt as though I had just experienced a very real personal tragedy. I had.  I sobbed uncontrollably. There is one thing I know for sure however; I wanted to go and get that candle back more than I've wanted to do anything in a very long time. But I knew I couldn't. No one could. Not even God would.

When I was able to gather myself (somewhat), I found Chris, grabbed him, held him and thanked him with every word I could muster, which admittedly were very few. I told him how I wanted to go and get that candle and it was about there that I lost it again. He assured me that it would be better Sunday. Knowing he was right, I reluctantly released him, turned, walked past a singing Christiana Horn, left the sanctuary, grabbed my daughter Torri and walked out of the building. I can only hope that the many members who all seemed to be lingering in the foyer didn't think me rude for not staying and chatting. For the first time in a long time, the preacher didn't have the words.

Increasing in faith,

Lee