Words Matter: Forgiveness

 
 

Every so often, we will have a guest speaker at CrossView Church. We are so grateful for the gifted women and men who serve the Lord through teaching the word. This week we hear from Pastor Nikki Rossiter. As one of CrossView’s online pastors, Pastor Nikki hosts our online services and leads our online prayer group. To join our Thursday evening online prayer group, click here. To share a prayer request, click here.

Usually, when we have a guest speaker, we will not have a weekly devotional. We encourage you to watch the message again at some point throughout the week.

Blessings on you and your week.

Pastor Kyle

Words Matter: Faith

This weeks devotion is entitled, “Fatih Versus Works: The Debate” and is written by Abson Joseph a contributing author at seedbed.com. We hope this devotion encourages your faith.

But someone will say, “You have faith and I have works.” Show me your faith apart from your works, and I by my works will show you my faith. 19 You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe—and shudder. 20 Do you want to be shown, you senseless person, that faith apart from works is barren?  
(James 2:18–20 NRSV )

Key Observation: Active faith leads to service toward God and others. 

It is clear from the text that not everyone is on the same page with James regarding the point he is trying to drive home. At the very least, James is rehearsing a debate between two individuals or groups of people. In this scenario, one group seems to prioritize faith, while the other prioritizes works. People who look at this passage often think that James is contradicting Paul, who was writing to a group of people who thought they could be self-­sufficient in their pursuit of God. They believed the works they performed would lead them to God. James, however, is dealing with the reverse. He is writing to people who are claiming to have faith, but not living accordingly. Their lives are not demonstrating the fruits (works) that should accompany the kind of faith that leads to salvation. It is possible the congregations who are hearing this letter did also receive the message that faith alone saves. James is not pushing against this notion. In other words, James is not having a faith-versus-work debate. Rather, he continues to drive home the point that the one cannot exist without the other. Both need to be present in the life of the believer. In fact, from James’s perspective, good works constitute the evidence that one possesses genuine faith.

James builds support for his exhortation by demonstrating that belief in God, though extremely important, is not enough for a life well lived. “You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe—and shudder” (v. 19). James is alluding to what is perhaps the most important theological statement in Scripture, the Shema. It is called the Shema after the first Hebrew word of the statement: “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one” (Deut. 6:4 ESV). This statement is the backbone of Judaism and Christianity. It underlines the lordship of God and the fact that he alone deserves our worship, he alone deserves our obedience. It underscores that Yahweh alone is God! There is no other like him! This belief should guide the way we live. It is a belief that requires right actions!

James uses several wordplays that are lost in the English language. For example, the word for “faith” and the verb translated “believe” have the same root. It is another indication of the fact that genuine faith is active faith. Further, James acknowledges the importance of having faith/belief. The statement “you do well” implies moral action. It highlights the good that is intrinsic to God’s nature, the good Father, and the good that his children should embody. However, in the context of the exhortation, it is inadequate because this good act is limited in the belief itself. James contrasts that belief with what the demons have and how it affects them. Their reaction appears to be more potent! Therefore, a faith/belief that does not produce right actions (works) is inadequate.

James ends with a rhetorical question. James’s language feels harsh. Here, he is equating a person’s inactive faith with their identity. The word translated “senseless” conveys emptiness, being empty-headed. It also conveys futility and ineffectiveness, the inability to reach a stated goal or purpose. Perhaps James is dealing with the same kinds of persons that he described earlier as double-minded. They do not have the capacity to think clearly, and they are as ineffective as their inactive faith is barren. James’s rhetorical questions set up the next step in the conversation. He uses the lives of Abraham and Rahab as cases in point to provide tangible examples of genuine faith at work in his quest to demonstrate that faith without works is futile—it is dead.

Questions for Reflection

  • How can we, as believers, activate our faith in a time when so many people feel unseen and alone in their pain?

  • If a faith/belief that does not produce right actions (works) is inadequate, where in this equation are you falling short? What areas of faith/belief or actions can you work on to be an adequate believer?

Words Matter: Righteousness

This weeks devotion is entitled, “Living In The Righteousness, Peace, And Joy Of The Holy Spirit” and is written by Dan Wilt. Dan is a contributing author at Seedbed.com

Many of us have had the experience of standing in line at an airport, waiting to board a plane. My favorite moment is when the person over the loud speaker says, “We’re now boarding families with children.” 

The parents, with relief in their eyes, begin to come forward. Nobody faults anyone else for letting the families go first. I don’t see fellow passengers asking to see the family’s boarding passes. The children are either sweetly smiling, tucked close to a parent’s chest, wandering to the full arms length of a distressed parent, or wailing in practice for the long performance ahead.

Sometimes the things we think are the most important, like us getting a seat in sync with our boarding pass number, can get in the way of a higher priority—making sure the families among us are settled and at peace first. We all benefit in the end, but our sense of propriety, fairness, and even justice may kick in and distort our ability to see the higher value right in front of us.

In Romans 14:17-18 we are being reminded of an important truth—quibbling about important things can get in the way of celebrating—and proliferating—the more important things. 

For example, issues of “eating and drinking” were important to the Jews. In Romans 14:1-16, it seems there were many matters that were taking up the community’s time and attention. In a culture where every liturgical action represented a spiritual truth (like eating and drinking the agape feast together), it was easy to prioritize the little details of worship and community practice based on the idea that “God cares about the details.” 

I.e. God cares about your boarding pass number. He cares that you booked early so you could get a good place in line. Well done. But sometimes, a more important value, a higher ideal, steps in and assigns other practices a different place in line. Sometimes, the families need to go first. To put it in the context of today’s passage—sometimes the weaker one should be honored.

In fact, could it be that we let the little details get in the way because they are easier to find success in achieving, easier than acts that involve loving others more highly than ourselves, acting self-sacrificially toward someone who has a different take on a spiritual practice than you do, or laying down our lives for our brothers and sisters? Often the harder work we’re avoiding is hidden behind our fixation on extra details and doing things “right.” 

The Spirit won’t let us off the hook—the Spirit will keep the main things the main things if we will listen and respond.

The Holy Spirit is at work in the Body in Christ. Our integrity (righteousness), our peace-making (peace), and our steady and delighted rejoicing in the miracle of God’s love being at work in our hearts and in the right-side-upping of the world (joy) are of highest importance.

The Holy Spirit is forming the Church to be Christ-like on the inside, and Christ-like on the outside. The Kingdom Jesus came to inaugurate is all about opening the heart to the Father’s love—starting with righteousness, peace, and joy, sparked by the Kingdom actions of walking with one another in integrity, doing the work of peace-making among us, and rejoicing in the Lord always—these are the priorities the Spirit keeps ever before us. 

The Spirit of Jesus knows what, and who, should go first in line. Let’s allow the Spirit to shuffle what we think of being our highest values, so the Spirit can show us what the Father values most.

Easter Sunday 2023

This weeks devotion is written by Kimberly Reisman and is entitled, “An Easter Foretaste.” Kimberly is a contributing author to Seedbed.com. We hope this devotional encourages your faith.

Easter can sometimes feel like the climax of a magnificent saga. The Christmas event starts the story. God becomes human in Jesus of Nazareth, enters our world and experiences everything it means to be human. It is a dramatic story, filled with transformation and hope as well as suffering and death. The tension of the story reaches its zenith on Good Friday when all appears lost. The followers of Jesus are scattered and hiding. The Messiah is dead.

Easter gives us the climactic “rest of the story” where the horror of Good Friday is transformed into the glory of resurrection day. Jesus is vindicated, life triumphs over death. Our future is secure.

This is indeed good news. It is news that has made a profound difference in my life and the lives of millions of people around the globe.

Yet to see Easter as a great ending to an amazing story is to miss a profound part of what makes the good news good. Yes, the narrative of our faith is an amazing story. And yes, the ending is tremendous. But the good news is good news because Easter isn’t the ending. Easter is a foretaste of the ultimate climax of God’s activity in our world. It gives us a taste of what is to come.

Easter is about the bodily resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. Some are more comfortable with a spiritualization of that truth. Others tend spiritualize the resurrection without realizing it – an easy mistake to make, but one that glosses over the dramatic and miraculous truth foreshadowed in Easter: on the day of resurrection, it is not only our spirits that will rise, but our bodies also.

That may not sound revelatory but think about the ramifications. When the women arrived at the tomb it was empty, but soon the resurrected Christ appeared to his followers. He was undeniably transformed, but they were still able to recognize him; and they recognized him by his physical body, right down to his nail-pierced hands.

When we lay claim to the truth of the bodily resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth, we are laying claim to the truth that just as the resurrected Christ was recognizable by his physical body – even as it was dramatically transformed, so we will be recognizable by our physical bodies, even though they will be remarkably made new.

This Easter truth is as mind-boggling and subversive today as it has been in every age; because rather than looking forward to a day when the things that make us different from others disappear, the resurrection proclaims that we look forward to an eternity in which those differences remain, but no longer divide.

Easter then, isn’t the climax of the story, it points to the climax, which is best found in Chapters 21 and 22 of Revelation. This is where we see what eternity looks like; here is where we find the fullest vision of God’s intention for creation.

Rather than taking us out of the world, the resurrection keeps us firmly planted in it. Rather than unfolding in some ephemeral, spiritual realm, creation is the context in which God’s kingdom comes. God makes God’s home among the people, who have gathered from every corner of the planet. As God transforms creation, making all things new, we discover the purpose of it all – for the healing of all the different peoples of the earth.

Easter is a foretaste of that Revelation image; which means that if we are to follow the resurrected Christ, we are to be a foretaste of that Revelation image. We are to be nowwhat God envisions for the future – a community transformed by the power of the Holy Spirit, in which differences may remain, but no longer divide nor define, a community in which healing can be experienced and lives made whole.

Easter Sunday was a glorious day; but today is Easter Monday, which for many of us can feel a whole lot like Good Friday. The question that continues to return to my mind is, what would those Fridays look like if we took the message of Sunday seriously? How might Fridays be transformed if we offer a genuine foretaste of God’s vision for the future?

Palm Sunday 2023

This week’s devotional written by Keith Turner a pastor in the Episcopal Church and is entitled, “A Desperate Cry of Hosanna.” We hope this devotional encourages your faith.

Days like Palm Sunday are particularly difficult for the preacher. It’s not because there is nothing to say. It is because there is nothing to say you don’t already know. You heard the Gospel reading. Jesus’ Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem is about as straightforward as a reading can get. It needs no special interpretation. The last thing you need me to do is to stand up and wax eloquent for 12 to 15 minutes (and not a second longer!) on the meaning of Palm Sunday. Yet, Palm Sunday is here again. The difficulty still looms over the preacher. I find myself wanting to give the congregation something that will make them say, “Huh. I never thought about that before!” But, I am reminded the task of preaching is not to reveal something new. Many times it is to remind the congregation of something true. Certainly, Palm Sunday reminds us of something true, something of which we need to be reminded at least once per year.

Sometimes, we hear an event recounted, and something different strikes us as particularly interesting. As I read the Palm Sunday narrative over and over again, the word Hosanna kept drawing me. Imagine the crowds of people thronging Main Street, Jerusalem, waving palm branches as Jesus rides in on a donkey. Hear them shouting, “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” Most of us know the word Hosanna well, don’t we? Many of us even sing it every week, “Holy, holy, holy Lord, God of power and might, heaven and earth are full of your glory. Hosanna in the highest. Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. Hosanna in the highest.”

We sing it as an act of praise. We sing it with exuberance. We sing it with celebration. But I still remember something I once heard a minister say: “One person’s act of praise may be another person’s act of desperation.” What may come easy for one person may be very difficult for another. Even though we sometimes sing it joyfully, Hosanna is not the happiest of words. It is a Hebrew word meaning, “Save, now!” It is a prayer of desperation, a cry for help. Have you ever cried out a desperate Hosanna? Have you ever found it difficult to praise God? Have you ever forced yourself to come into God’s presence with thanksgiving and into his courts with praise when it was the last thing you felt like doing?

I was in that situation not long ago. I was in a worship setting, and I must confess that from where I was sitting, there was a person in clear sight, toward whom I harbor feelings of deep hatred. Growing up, I was always taught that I was not permitted to hate anyone. The person I hold bitterness toward claims to be a Christian. This person claims to serve the Lord. Nevertheless, seeing this person sitting there put me in a less-than-worshipful mood. If only the person were not there, then maybe my thoughts and my prayers would be a little more holy. But right there, the object of my scorn sat.

When we stood to sing one of my favorite hymns, I found it incredibly difficult to sing. “Join hands, disciples of the faith, whate’er your race may be. Who serves my Father as his child is surely kin to me.” These words are true, no matter how I feel or what I want. I sang the words anyway. It was not easy to praise God. I had to cry a desperate Hosanna. Lord, save now! Save me from myself! Deliver me from my feelings of bitterness, resentment, and hatred. Rescue me from what keeps my heart from joyfully praising you.

Maybe your difficulty comes from a different place. Perhaps it comes from a place of disappointment or from a wearying trial you are facing. Our suffering often drives us to God, but it still never makes it easy to praise Him. This is especially true if our disappointment is toward God. Even so, God is not threatened by our feelings of disappointment or anger. Instead, God promises to meet us in our disappointment and suffering. But, sometimes, we have to praise him in an act of faith that precedes our being able to see that truth. That is where we find God’s faithfulness to be true.

I wonder about the people who flanked the sidewalks of Main Street, Jerusalem on that day. What brought them there? Were they filled with excitement and celebration? For some, that may be the case, but I wonder how many were filled with desperation. Maybe the crowds really didn’t feel like lining along the streets to watch this one-person parade. Given the political climate, they may have even feared doing so. But, they lined the street anyway. Maybe they knew that no matter how they felt or what they wanted, Jesus comes to bring something true—something better than the nightmare in which they lived.

They may have had their reservations about flooding the neighborhood that day, but one thing is for sure: they wanted Rome out of their neighborhoods even more strongly. Overthrow the Romans if you will. Take down Caesar if you can. Many of the people were convinced Jesus came to revolutionize Israel into a new earthly kingdom. They expected the Roman kingdom to be wiped out; the Kingdom of God would be ushered in. It’s a win-win! Whatever it takes, they want the Romans out of there. They are desperate.

But, when Jesus does not meet their expectations, their desperate cries of Hosanna turn into furious cries of “Crucify him!”

Yet, in the irony that is his crucifixion, Jesus still answers their prayer: “Lord, save now!” He draws the whole world to himself. By his suffering and death, Jesus becomes the author of eternal salvation for all who put their trust in him (see Book of Common Prayer, 346). Jesus still brings about a more perfect and complete salvation and inaugurates the true Kingdom of God even when humanity sinks to its greatest evil.

I also wonder who might be flanking the streets of our lives. Who among us may be crying out to Jesus with a desperate Hosanna? Who might the Holy Spirit be nudging us to see? They could be…

The parents standing over the fresh grave of their teenage son, fallen victim in an act of gun violence
Lord, save now!

The single parent lying awake at night having worked three minimum wage jobs and still worrying over how the rent is going to be paid
Lord, save now!

The group of African-American high school students meeting at the local restaurant after football practice only to discover the waiter has put a racial slur instead of their table number atop their check
Lord, save now!

Even those who may want to destroy Christ along with everyone who follows Him
Lord, save now!

Holy Spirit still calls us, just as at our baptism: “Proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ. Seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as your self. Strive for justice and peace and respect the dignity of every human being.” If you are reading this, and your sweet Hosannas are ringing from a place of exuberance and celebration, then indeed, praise God for it! But, if your Hosannas come from a place of desperation, then take heart! The Lord hears your prayer and does not forget you. For all of us, no matter where we are on our faith journeys on this Palm Sunday, Jesus Christ is hearing our Hosannas and is saving us.

Amen.

Nehemiah: The Final Word

This week’s devotional is “What It Looks Like When God’s In Charge”, an excerpt from the book Sim­ply Jesus: A New Vision of Who He Was, What He Did, and Why He Mat­ters by N.T. Wright. This excerpt is shared by Renovaré. We hope this devotional encourages your faith.

[Luke 15] is a sus­tained expo­si­tion of the rea­son why there is a par­ty tak­ing place to begin with. Some­thing is hap­pen­ing, Jesus declares, that is bring­ing heav­en and earth togeth­er. The angels are cel­e­brat­ing in heav­en, so sure­ly we should be cel­e­brat­ing here on earth as well. And the rea­son the angels are cel­e­brat­ing is that noto­ri­ous sin­ners are see­ing the error of their ways and turn­ing away from them, even though the right­eous and respectable, who can’t bear to think there is any­thing wrong with them, are look­ing down their noses at such behavior.

The point, as with the heal­ings, is not that Jesus was sim­ply mount­ing a one-man res­cue oper­a­tion for lost and bat­tered souls — though that’s what it must often have looked like. Jesus, aware as ever of the long sto­ries of God’s peo­ple and the ways in which those sto­ries were expect­ed to come true, knew as well as any trained teacher of the law that one of the great things that Israel had to do so that God would launch his great renew­al move­ment, his new Exo­dus, was ​“to turn,” to repent, to turn back from the evil ways of the heart, and to turn instead to God in pen­i­tence and faith. That’s what Moses him­self had said in Deuteron­o­my 30. Jere­mi­ah and Ezekiel had made the same point. This is how it would have to be: when the Israelites had hit rock bot­tom, then they would turn back to God with all their heart and soul, and God would turn back to them, restor­ing them, and mak­ing them his peo­ple indeed.

So, says Jesus, it’s time to cel­e­brate! It’s hap­pen­ing! Not, per­haps, in the way you thought it would, not yet on a nation­al scale, but it’s hap­pen­ing all right. ​“How glad they will be in heav­en over one sin­ner who repents” (Luke 15:7). ​“This broth­er of yours was dead and is alive again! He was lost and now he’s found!” (15:32). Res­ur­rec­tion, the ulti­mate hope of new life for Israel, is hap­pen­ing under your noses, and you can’t see it. But for those of us who can — well, we’re hav­ing a par­ty, the same par­ty that the angels are hav­ing in heav­en, and you’re not going to stop us. This, it seems, is part at least of what it means that God’s king­dom is com­ing ​“on earth as in heav­en.” The heav­en­ly cel­e­bra­tions at the signs of renew­al, the first flick­ers of a dawn that will soon flood the whole sky, are to be matched by the mot­ley mob around Jesus here and there, in Matthew’s house (Matt. 9:9 – 13) and Zac­cha­eus’s house (Luke 19:1 – 10), in this tav­ern and that, with Mary Mag­da­lene and her friends and any­one else who cares to join in. This is what it looks like when God’s in charge. This is how the cam­paign gets under way.

Excerpt­ed from N. T. Wright’s Sim­ply Jesus: A New Vision of Who He Was, What He Did, and Why He Mat­ters, pp. 70 – 71. New York: Harper­One, 2011.

Nehemiah: Confidence in God

This weeks devotion is an excerpt from a book entitled, A Trowel and a Sword: Prayer Practices for Those on the Frontlines of the Gospel (A Fresh Expressions Book) by Verlon Fosner and Jon Davis. It is available on Seebed.com or Amazon. We hope this devotion encourages your faith as you think about Nehemiah chapter four.

In Nehemiah, after the group became effective at working with the trowel in building the wall, there came a time when their enemies gathered and they had to become skilled with the sword. What a picture for an effective gospel worker: a trowel of evangelism in one hand and a sword of prayer in the other. Such a person will not only find their way to the front lines, but they will also have what it takes to stay on the front lines. Seedbed is pleased to announce the release of A Trowel and a Sword: Prayer Practices for Those on the Frontlines of the Gospel (A Fresh Expressions Book) by Verlon Fosner and Jon Davis.

—

In the age of enlightenment, we can seem dismissive of the supernatural. We analyze, explain, and justify things by the scientific method. I am all for science and what it has taught us about the world. I have to believe if you are reading this you are also a person of faith knowing that all we see is not all there is. I don’t want to delve into all of the mysteries of faith and Scripture. I do believe the Word of God is true and as Article Six of the Thirty-Nine Articles states:

Holy Scripture contains all things necessary to salvation: so that whatsoever is not read therein, nor may be proved thereby, is not to be required of any man, that it should be believed as an article of the Faith or be thought requisite or necessary to salvation. In the name of the Holy Scripture we do understand those canonical Books of the Old and New Testament, of whose authority was never any doubt in the Church.

I would also approach this from a creedal perspective. I believe that Apostles’ and Nicene Creeds state true Christian faith and this is what a Christian believes. As related to Scripture, it is an absolute that God created this world. Was it accomplished in six, twenty-four-hour days? Or are the days mentioned segments of time beyond what we understand? There is room for interpretation on this; we may disagree on the how of creation, but I still believe the essential tenets of the creeds—I believe in God the Father, Maker of heaven and earth. My point would be as we look at a biblical warrant for spiritual warfare, we might interpret the material differently at times, but we will all see the presence of spiritual realities.

A quarter of Jesus’ ministry dealt specifically with conflict between the kingdom of God and the dominion of darkness and evil. The very incarnation of Christ was the beginning of an assault on Satan’s domain. Jesus came to crush Satan under His feet. Jesus begins His ministry, immediately following His baptism by John in the Jordan River, by being led by the Spirit into the wilderness where He would fast for forty days and be tempted by the devil. In this spiritual warfare, Jesus uses Scripture as His response to what the devil was offering and He emerges victorious from this wilderness journey.

There are multiple instances of demonic deliverances throughout the Gospels. In these accounts, the demons declare who Jesus is, submit to His authority, and recognize their defeat. We cannot ignore these stories and teachings simply because we are living in an age of rationalism. All that being said, the biblical picture is not one of dualism. We are not in Star Wars dealing with equal parts of the Light Side and the Dark Side of the Force. Thankfully, our God is omnipotent and omniscient—He is all-powerful and all-knowing. Satan and the forces of evil are not.

In the story of Job in the Old Testament we are given an account where God is proud of His servant Job and Satan challenges God that Job is only good because God had blessed him! God permits Satan to wreak disaster on Job’s life, destroying his family, taking his wealth, and then inflicting him with disease. Satan could not do this without God’s permission. God is not the cause of evil; He is holy and righteous.

I don’t have the space here to deal with all the issues of providence, sovereignty, and the problem of evil in this world. We can say that Jesus came to establish the kingdom of God, to defeat Satan, and to redeem us from sin. Mike Atkins, my lifelong friend and mentor, once explained it this way:

People ask: “If God is good, then why is there evil in this world?” Be assured God will judge every evil act. Every violence, murder, thievery, atrocity. All the evil in the world is being recorded and there is a day of judgment coming. It is time that is posted on God’s eternal calendar. God will pour out His wrath against sin and His justice will prevail.

There was also a day of judgment two thousand years ago when Jesus was nailed to the cross and took upon Himself the burden of all the evil that had been and would be committed. “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor. 5:21 ESV). The good news is that we choose which day of judgment we will be under. Will we stand alone before almighty God, giving an account for our lives, knowing that if we are guilty of one infraction—one lie, one evil thought—we are guilty of breaking all of the law; or will we put our faith in Jesus, repent of our sin, and believe in Him to be our Savior and Redeemer.

There is a widely held view regarding the consummation of the kingdom of God and the second coming of Christ rooted in a metaphor of D-Day and VE-Day. On June 6, 1944, when the Allied invasion of the European continent was successful, the war was over. Germany had lost and they could not stand against the wave of military that would flow all the way to Berlin. However, there would be some eleven months of battles, destruction, and thousands of lives lost until Germany would surrender on what became known as Victory in Europe Day, May 8, 1945. The cross of Jesus and His resurrection were a D-Day moment. Satan was utterly and completely defeated. Jesus was the Christus Victor! The consummation of God’s kingdom at the return of Christ will be like a VE-Day. Until then, we live in an in-between time of the “already” and “not yet.” Victory in Christ is ours. In the spiritual sense, we possess everything necessary as kingdom people, heirs and joint heirs, redeemed, reconciled, and made righteous in Christ. However, in this season we still have spiritual warfare; there are battles to be fought, casualties, and destruction. Yet we fight on, knowing of an assured victory in Jesus.

We have instruction to put on the whole armor of God and, having done all, to stand against the fiery darts of the devil (see Ephesians 6:10–18). We are also told that our warfare is not fleshly but rather divine, destroying strongholds of the enemy (see 2 Corinthians 10:3–6). Again, we are warned: “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour” (1 Peter 5:8 ESV).

Missional, frontline, trowel-and-sword prayer is grounded in spiritual warfare. It is fulfilling a first-commission mandate, found in Genesis 1:28 (ESV):

And God blessed them. And God said to them, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth and subdue it, and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the heavens and over every living thing that moves on the earth.”

In Luke 10, Jesus sends out seventy-two of His followers and disciples on a mission. It is a central narrative to how we understand the mission of the church today. They return, rejoicing, and we have this account:

The seventy-two returned with joy, saying, “Lord, even the demons are subject to us in your name!” And he said to them, “I saw Satan fall like lightning from heaven. Behold, I have given you authority to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy, and nothing shall hurt you. Nevertheless, do not rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” (vv. 17–20 ESV)

These words of Jesus are important for so many reasons. While there is an over-focus in some corners on spiritual warfare and demonic activity, what I hear in this passage is the power of evil is to be contended with and confronted. While we contend with evil in order to advance the kingdom, our loud rejoicing is reserved for what Christ Jesus has done for us! So, as we go forward into the chapters before us, may we never forget to rejoice over the “already” more than we contend for the “not yet.” This is Jesus’ directive to us all.

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Nehemiah: It Takes a Village

This weeks devotion is entitled “When Life Gets Hard, There Is Community” and is written by Dr. Matt O’Reily and is an excerpt from a study on the Letters to the Thessalonians. While we are in a study on Nehemiah this is a great New Testament perspective on Christian community in difficult times. We hope this devotion encourages your faith.

Instead, we were like young children among you. Just as a nursing mother cares for her children, 8 so we cared for you. Because we loved you so much, we were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God but our lives as well. 9 Surely you remember, brothers and sisters, our toil and hardship; we worked night and day in order not to be a burden to anyone while we preached the gospel of God to you. 10 You are witnesses, and so is God, of how holy, righteous and blameless we were among you who believed. 11 For you know that we dealt with each of you as a father deals with his own children, 12 encouraging, comforting and urging you to live lives worthy of God, who calls you into his kingdom and glory.
(1 Thessalonians 2:7–12 NIV)

Key Observation: Christian community should be characterized by self-giving love, even in difficult circumstances.

Life has likely presented you with undesirable circumstances at least once or twice and probably more. Perhaps you’ve lost a job or there has been conflict at church. Maybe you’re grieving over a broken friendship or the loss of a loved one. Whatever the situation, it’s easy to stress when things get painful. We focus on ourselves, on getting through, on self-preservation. Paul could have done that. After all, he’d been treated with violence for preaching Jesus. It would have been easy to pity himself. But instead of focusing on his own painful circumstances, he focused on the Thessalonians and their needs. He offered himself to them. He didn’t show up expecting recognition or support. He didn’t ask them to carry his burdens. Paul’s reminder that he could have “asserted our authority” (2:6 NIV) suggests that his role as an apostle entitled him to some provision. But he didn’t insist on his rights. He came alongside the Thessalonians and cared for them. The images of nursemaid and mother combine to magnify the depth of Paul’s love. He wanted to please God; he gave himself to others despite his pain.

Paul’s behavior is an example for the Thessalonians and for us. And he knows it. That’s why he encourages them to “live lives worthy of God.” He’s not simply reminding them about his self-sacrificing love; he wants them to act the same way. We learned in chapter 1 that the Thessalonians had experienced persecution (1:6). Paul’s ministry shows how to respond to that. Whatever they suffered, they had to resist the temptation to turn their attention to themselves. If they did, one of two things would probably happen. First option, the church could become a holy huddle with members focused on maintaining themselves while giving little or no attention to mission and the growth of the kingdom. If they go this route, the church becomes something that exists only to meet their needs. And they become consumers who only show up for what they can get. It would be easy to shift into survival mode, but it would also be detrimental to the community. Second option, they turn on each other. When things get tough, it’s easy to play the blame game. This creates strife and division, and it tears churches apart.

Paul prefers a third option. He wants to see a community characterized by self-giving love. And he’s doing his best to model that. If that’s what we want, we can’t come together to blame or consume. We come to give and serve. We come to cultivate our shared mission. If we do that, then we’ll begin to understand what Paul means when he talks about holiness later in the letter. It’s been said that sin is a human heart turned in on itself. In contrast, the holy life—the life worthy of God—is a life marked by self-giving love oriented toward others. It’s a life that embodies the character of God revealed in the self-sacrificial love of Jesus. It’s a life that only comes with the gracious presence of the Holy Spirit. And as we’ll see later, it’s God’s will for everyone (see 1 Thessalonians 4:3).

Guest Preacher: Mark Morrison

 
 

Every so often, we will have a guest speaker at CrossView Church. We are so grateful for the gifted women and men that serve the Lord through teaching the word. This week we hear from Pastor Mark Morrison. Pastor Mark serves as the director of Shepherd Ministries. You can find out more information about Shepherd Ministries here.

Usually, when we have a guest speaker, we will not have a weekly devotion. We encourage you to watch the message again at some point throughout the week and listen to the discussion podcast.

Blessings on you and your week.

Pastor Kyle

Nehemiah: A Waiting Faith

This weeks devotion comes from the book, “Walking in God’s Words” and is linked down below in the commentary article. We hope this devotion encourages your faith.

LESSONS FOR US TODAY

I hope that Nehemiah is an inspiration to you, a good example to follow like the other good examples described for us in Hebrews 11. Although he lived many years ago, and although not many of us are cupbearers to great kings, and although he lived before the coming of Christ, we can still identify with him. His character is so clearly presented to us, even in this first section of this book which bears his name. God has told us about Nehemiah, so that we will understand how God works in the world, how God preserves his people, and how God wants us to live. Hebrews 11 teaches us to look at Old Testament people as examples of enduring faith. And 2 Timothy 3:16–17 teaches us that the Scriptures are provided by God ‘for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness’.

Heroes from the past are out of fashion at the present time. We look to our contemporary world, and we tend to look for celebrities, rather than heroes. But celebrities are celebrities because of their outward appearance or circumstances. If we want to think God’s thoughts after him, then we have to know that:

The Lord does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart. (1 Samuel 16:7)

There are more lessons to learn from Nehemiah in this book. But what are the challenges from what we have seen so far?

Are we people with a passion for the welfare of the people of God, the Church of Jesus Christ?

Nehemiah, living in Susa, was desolated because of the tragic circumstances of the people of God back in Jerusalem. The tendency in our society is to think that if we are OK, and our close friends are OK, then that is what really matters. And even those who have a keen interest in what is happening in other countries sometimes fail to find out what is happening to fellow believers in Christ in those countries.

We may dismiss or despair of the Church and its weaknesses, but fail to grieve for it, and fail to love it. The Church of Christ should be on our heart, because it is on God’s heart.

Are we people of prayer?

As we have seen, Nehemiah was a man of prayer. When he heard the bad news about Jerusalem, he spent many hours in deep and passionate prayer and fasting. He then summarised all these prayers in a great prayer, which provides a model for our prayers. Then he prayed his ‘arrow prayers’ at the moments of opportunity. These prayers opened up an opportunity of service, in which Nehemiah became part of the answer to his own prayer. We should learn how to pray from Nehemiah.

Are we people whose passions, prayers and actions are formed by a desire to serve God, and instructed by the Bible?

It is clear from Nehemiah’s passions, prayers, and actions, that he was well taught from the Bible. He saw what was happening around him in the light of the Bible, and he interpreted history in the context of God’s big plans as revealed in the Bible. Nehemiah lived by the promises of God, and claimed those promises in his prayers. He was an integrated person, with a purity of heart that resulted from wanting one thing: the glory of God. He walked in God’s words.

Are we people who see opportunities, even in difficult circumstances?

Nehemiah was in Susa, a long way from Jerusalem. He was cupbearer to the king. This gave him access to the king, but Persian kings were not in the habit of changing their circumstances for the benefit of their servants! The people of God were in a mess, and even though some had returned to Jerusalem, they were still vulnerable to their enemies. But, for Nehemiah, this was not a time to give up, but a time to grieve, pray, trust, ask and act! In the words of DT Niles, as we have already seen, ‘Hope lies amidst the ruins of our expectations’. And, in my words, ‘Hope lies in the promises of God’.

God has provided the book of Nehemiah, as with every part of the Old Testament, to encourage us: ‘so that through the endurance taught in the Scriptures and the encouragement they provide we might have hope’ (Romans 15:4). May the God of Nehemiah encourage us through Nehemiah, that we may have hope in ‘the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort’ (2 Corinthians 1:3).

Nehemiah: Nehemiah's Prayer

This weeks devotion is a video on “Awakening” by Dr. David Thomas. David Thomas is a pastor, author, and speaker. He is a regular contributor to Seedbed.com and is part of leading the current awakening happening at Asbury University. We hope this encourages your faith as you think about Nehemiah.

What is the impact of spiritual awakenings on the church and society? In this Seven Minute Seminary video, Dr. David Thomas shares how awakenings are the golden thread that propels salvation-history forward, leading to deep impact in hearts as well as the social fabric in which it is birthed.

What is awakening? Awakening is the outcome of personally encountering Jesus Christ, through whom the love of God the Father is poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit. Awakening both results from and leads to deep wholeness in people, renewal of the Church, evangelization of a generation, and transformation of society.

The common thread of the Christian story and the great urgency of our day, awakening unfolds in small ways which produce vast blessing to all of creation. It comes most readily to those who are desperate for more of God, to any disciple of Jesus thirsty for a manner of prayer and quality of relationship that bear the marks of plain, Scriptural Christianity—the measure of which is holy love. 

The Church cannot manufacture awakening; it is ultimately a work of God and a sign of His presence. But we can sow for awakening, remove impediments, and posture ourselves to receive it. 

Nehemiah: A Holy Discontent

This weeks devotion is from a 13-week devotional series written by Newspring Church in South Carolina. We hope this devotion encourages your faith.

Nehemiah’s story started with a burden. He saw the condition of Jerusalem’s wall and knew the situation was desperate. Without a wall, people returning to Jerusalem after years in captivity would be unprotected and vulnerable to attack.

Nehemiah was brokenhearted, but he didn’t tackle the problem immediately. Why? He first needed to bring his burden before the Lord.

The state of Jerusalem’s wall reflected the condition of the Jewish people’s relationship with God. Disobedience had left their city and their lives in disarray. So before Nehemiah could fix the brokenness surrounding the city, he asked God to fix the brokenness inside the people of the city. Forgiveness was the foundation everything else would be built on.

Imagine what God is arranging behind the scenes, so you can do more than you ever thought possible.

Once the people were right with God, Nehemiah began to pray about what was next. All the while, God positioned Nehemiah so he’d have influence with the king and with the people. God had arranged it so a foreign king provided resources to rebuild the wall of Jerusalem.

Imagine what God is arranging behind the scenes, so you can do more than you ever thought possible.

Look around. What breaks your heart? What has God put in front of you that you can’t ignore? Until our hearts are broken for the situations and people around us, we’ll maintain status quo.

Once you know what your burden is, go to Jesus in prayer. Ask Him what to do next.

Consider This:

What are you burdened about?

Pray:

Jesus, I am burdened about ___________________________. What should I do next? I want to make a difference. Help me make a difference.

Prayer: The Prayer of Participation

This weeks devotion is entitled, “Peterson on Prayer and the Middle Voice” and is written by Toby Sumpter. Toby serves as a pastor at Christ Church in Mocow, Idaho. We hope this encourages your fatih.

In prayer, we are invited to join the deliberations of the heavenly assembly and particularly, we are invited to participate in the council and deliberations of the Father, Son, and Spirit. We, like Abraham, reason with God; we, like Moses, are invited to present our case before the Godhead. But we have been granted participation in God far beyond what the faithful patriarchs enjoyed. We have the status of children of God; we have been given the Spirit which cries out to God, “Abba, Father!” We are joined to the Son by the Spirit and are welcome to speak with the Father about the state of our life, the state of our family, the state of our world. We are invited to participate in what God is doing in the world. We are not the primary actors or initiators, but we are expected to participate in and join in the action through pleas, through our intercession, through our cries for mercy. 

Peterson explains: “Prayer and spirituality feature participation, the complex participation of God and the human, his will and our wills. We do not abandon ourselves to the stream of grace and drown in the ocean of love, losing identity. We do not pull the strings that activate God’s operations in our lives, subjecting God to our assertive identity. We neither manipulate God (active voice) nor are manipulated by God (passive voice). We are involved in the action and participate in its results but do not control or define it (middle voice). Prayer takes place in the middle voice.” (The Contemplative Pastor, 103-104)

Of course when we think of results we usually think about what we want to see happen or change. But participating in the results doesn’t necessarily mean that what we want actually happens. Of course in the cases of Abraham and Moses we see instances where prayer does prevail with God. But if we have been granted the status of sons, and we have the Spirit of Christ, then we have to remember that much of our prayer may be like Christ’s prayer. And some of the clearest glimpses of Christ’s prayer life are seen in the garden just before his arrest and betrayal. Christ’s prayers participated in the results of the action of God in the world, but we know from Christ’s own words, he struggled through that, he argued and pleaded with his Father in his circumstances, while perfectly trusting the will of his Father. Praying like daughters and sons may mean facing similar situations as the Son in the garden, the Son before Pilate, the Son on the Cross. But of course that should come as no surprise since that same Son invited us to follow him by taking up a cross. But the hope of course is that the same result as came to the Son comes to every son. Resurrection awaits all every child of God. 

Prayer: A Conversation

This week’s devotion is written by Richard Foster, the founder of Ren­o­varé, and is entitled, “Understanding Prayer”. We hope this devotion encourages your faith.

Prayer is the heart’s true home. But, you see, we have been in a far coun­try. It’s been a coun­try of climb and push and shove. It’s been a coun­try of noise and hur­ry and crowds.

The heart of God is an open wound of love because of this dis­tance and pre­oc­cu­pa­tion of ours. God mourns that we do not draw near to him. God weeps over our obses­sion with ​“much­ness” and ​“many­ness.”

And God is seek­ing after us. God seeks us like the father rush­ing out to embrace the prodi­gal. God seeks us like the woman who will leave no stone unturned in her deter­mi­na­tion to find a lost coin. God seeks us like the shep­herd search­ing, search­ing, search­ing for one lost sheep. God is seek­ing us. 

God invites us to come home: home to where we belong; home to seren­i­ty and peace and joy; home to inti­ma­cy and accep­tance and affirmation. 

God wel­comes us into the liv­ing room of his heart where we can put on old slip­pers and share freely. God wel­comes us into the bed­room of his rest where we can be naked and vul­ner­a­ble and free. It is also the place of deep­est inti­ma­cy where we can know and be known to the fullest. 

And it doesn’t mat­ter if we have lit­tle faith, or none. It doesn’t mat­ter if we have been bruised and bro­ken by the pres­sures of life. It doesn’t mat­ter if our prayers have grown cold and brit­tle. It doesn’t mat­ter if God seems remote and inaccessible. 

Just like a lit­tle child can nev­er draw a bad pic­ture, so a child of God can nev­er utter a bad prayer. God, you see, accepts us just the way we are, and he accepts our prayers just the way they are. 

But here is the beau­ty of this inter­ac­tive life of prayer: God does not leave us the way we are. God’s inten­tion is to trans­form our inward char­ac­ter into the like­ness of Christ. C. S. Lewis writes that God’s intent for you and me is to form us into ​“a daz­zling, radi­ant, immor­tal crea­ture, pul­sat­ing all through with such ener­gy and joy and wis­dom and love as we can­not now imag­ine, a bright stain­less mir­ror which reflects back to God per­fect­ly (though, of course, on a small­er scale) His own bound­less pow­er and delight and good­ness.” The inter­ac­tive life of prayer is a cen­tral means God uses for bring­ing this trans­for­ma­tive real­i­ty into the deep habit struc­tures of our lives. 

Now, we must not think of prayer as a flat, dull, one-dimen­sion­al expe­ri­ence. Far from it! Prayer is a dance, a love feast, a wrestling match, a high, hilar­i­ous par­ty… I could con­tin­ue adding metaphors for some time. Prayer is so rich and var­ied and indi­vid­u­al­ized a reality. 

The syn­tax of prayer is love. ​“True, whole prayer is noth­ing but love,” writes Augus­tine of Hip­po. ​“The Trin­i­ty is our ever­last­ing lover,” declares Julian of Nor­wich. ​“Jesus, lover of my soul, let me to Thy bosom fly,” cries out Charles Wes­ley. The heart of God is open wide to receive us; we are wel­come to come home.

Prayer: Prayer of the Ordinary

This week’s devotional, Prac­ti­cal Ways to Live All of Life With God, is an excerpt from the book Streams of Living Water by Richard Foster, the founder of Ren­o­varé. We hope this devotion encourages your faith.

The first action in prac­tic­ing the Incar­na­tion­al Tra­di­tion is the invo­ca­tion of God’s man­i­fest pres­ence into this mate­r­i­al world of ours. Here the ini­tia­tive rests square­ly upon us (even though we know that we are only respond­ing to God’s pri­or ini­ti­a­tion upon our heart). God, you see, will not enter many areas of our life unin­vit­ed. So we invite God to enter every expe­ri­ence of life. We invite God to set our spir­it free for wor­ship and ado­ra­tion. We invite God to ani­mate our preach­ing and singing and pray­ing. We invite God to trans­form the bread and wine of Com­mu­nion. We invite God to heal our bod­ies. We invite God to inform our minds with cre­ative ideas for our busi­ness enter­pris­es. We invite God to touch bro­ken rela­tion­ships and resolve con­flicts at work or home. We invite God to make our homes holy places of wor­ship and study and work and play and love-mak­ing. We invite … we invite. Per­haps we could speak of this as ​“invit­ed grace” — the grace of God com­ing in lov­ing response to our invocation.

A sec­ond action comes as we recov­er a Chris­t­ian spir­i­tu­al­i­ty of work. We are helped in our think­ing by the Bene­dic­tine notion of the dig­ni­ty of man­u­al labor and the Fran­cis­can ide­al of serv­ing the poor as a way of wor­ship­ing God. We can add to this Mar­tin Luther’s con­vic­tion that ​“the menial house­work of a manser­vant or maid­ser­vant is more accept­able to God” than the work of monks or priests. And we can learn much from the Puri­tan notion of call­ing or vocation. 

In our day spe­cial empha­sis needs to be placed upon the sacred­ness of the work of our hands and our mind. If ours is God’s world, any true work for the improve­ment of human life is a sacred under­tak­ing. As Elton True­blood has not­ed, ​“We should see the ordi­na­tion to the priest­hood as a sacra­ment; but we should like­wise see ordi­na­tion to any worth-while human task as a sacra­ment.” You see, we can nev­er con­fine the ​“call” to ​“full-time Chris­t­ian ser­vice” to cler­gy-relat­ed voca­tions. Farm­ers and plumbers and sec­re­taries can be equal­ly ​“called” and equal­ly ​“full-time” and equal­ly ​“Chris­t­ian,” and they can equal­ly ren­der ​“ser­vice.” The real­ly cru­cial deci­sion comes, not when we decide to be a pas­tor rather than a biol­o­gist, but when we decide to allow our entire life to be a chan­nel of divine love. 

So what does a Chris­t­ian spir­i­tu­al­i­ty of work look like? I can give only the barest essen­tials here. We have a sense of call­ing, a God-giv­en abil­i­ty to do a job linked with a God-giv­en enjoy­ment in doing it. We have a sense of respon­si­bil­i­ty to do some­thing in our own time that has val­ue. We have a sense of free­dom from the bur­den of the worka­holic, for we are not asked to do more than we can. We have a sense of cre­ativ­i­ty that enables us to place the auto­graph of our souls on the work of our hands. We have a sense of dig­ni­ty, for we val­ue peo­ple over effi­cien­cy. We have a sense of com­mu­ni­ty, for we know that our life togeth­er is more impor­tant than the end prod­uct. We have a sense of sol­i­dar­i­ty with the poor to empow­er them to do what they can­not do by them­selves. And we have a sense of mean­ing and pur­pose, for we know that we are work­ing in coop­er­a­tion with God to bring the world one step clos­er to completion. 

A third action comes through the recov­ery of mar­riage and fam­i­ly life. From prison Diet­rich Bon­ho­ef­fer wrote to his fiancée Maria, ​“Our mar­riage shall be a yes to God’s earth; it shall strength­en our courage to act and accom­plish some­thing on the earth.” Bon­ho­ef­fer affirmed this in spite of the fact that his world — indeed, the whole world as it was then known — was crum­bling. We need Bonhoeffer’s courage. 

Mar­riage is covenan­tal. Mar­riage is no mar­riage at all if it is con­di­tion­al or par­tial or entered into with fin­gers crossed. It involves an uncal­cu­lat­ing aban­don, an utter and mutu­al out­pour­ing of love and loy­al­ty. It is a ​“one flesh” real­i­ty in which the two become one func­tion­al whole, not unlike the way a com­put­er disk dri­ve and its disk form one func­tion­ing unit or the way a bow and arrow are essen­tial to each oth­er. And so a home is formed and chil­dren most nor­mal­ly follow. 

Fam­i­ly life should be expressed in its full­ness in the home, because this is the place where the specif­i­cal­ly reli­gious dimen­sion and every­day life meet. The home is intrin­si­cal­ly a reli­gious insti­tu­tion, and the fam­i­ly table is the cen­ter of the home. The idea that a meal can be a sacred occa­sion is so deeply root­ed in many reli­gious tra­di­tions that it can­not be acci­den­tal or of pass­ing sig­nif­i­cance. The Jew­ish Passover and the Chris­t­ian Love Feast are among the more famil­iar exam­ples of sacred meals. Of spe­cial sig­nif­i­cance for us is the fact that in the Gospel accounts the risen Christ was rec­og­nized by his dis­ci­ples at the moment they began shar­ing in an ordi­nary meal (Luke 24:31 – 35). This leads to the hope that every com­mon meal may be, if we are suf­fi­cient­ly sen­si­tive, a time when we are con­scious of the real pres­ence of our risen Lord. 

Com­mon labor too should be found in the home. Our grand­par­ents’ farm­house was large because it was far more than a place to eat and sleep: it was a place to work. In the past the home was a work­shop, a school, a church, and a club all rolled into one. True, those days are gone for­ev­er, but it is still pos­si­ble to dis­cov­er work togeth­er in the home. Floors need clean­ing and win­dows need wash­ing. In addi­tion, mod­ern com­put­er tech­nol­o­gy makes cot­tage indus­tries once again a gen­uine pos­si­bil­i­ty. It is worth our best think­ing and most cre­ative efforts to make the home not just a room­ing house, but the cen­ter of fam­i­ly life, the place for work and wor­ship and play and love-making. 

Prayer: The Prayer of Examen

This week’s devotion, His Intimate Knowledge of Us: Psalm 139 is from Seedbed.com and is written by Dr. Timothy Tennent. Dr. Tennent is the president of Asbury Theological Seminary. We hope this devotional encourages your faith.

You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. Psalm 139:1 (NIV)

In this psalm, David celebrates God’s intimate ­knowledge of us. The opening phrase “O Lord, you have searched me and you know me” summarizes the entire psalm. He knows us when we rise in the morning; he knows us when we go about our daily activities; he knows us when we lie down at night. There is no place to hide from his presence. He is in heaven. He is even with us when we are in the depths of Sheol (the place of the dead). Even if we move and settle on the other side of the world, “even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast” (v. 10). He even knew us before we were born, knitting us together in our mother’s womb. This psalm is the inspiration for those familiar words in the liturgy known as the Collect for Purity, dating back to the eleventh century: “Almighty God, unto whom all hearts are open, all desires known, and from whom no secrets are hid . . .”

We live in a time when life is regarded as a personal commodity. We are told that we are the masters of our own lives and have autonomy over the direction of our lives. This is not the worldview of the Psalms. God’s eyes saw our unformed bodies in the womb (v. 16). Even before we draw our first breath, he has already ordained the very number of days we will live (v. 16). Our lives from inception to the grave belong to him. He alone sets the path of our lives and directs us according to his gracious plan. The fact that we are his creation means that there are certain moral boundaries to the decisions we make regarding our lives. When we feel overwhelmed and think our life is going all wrong, we must remember that he knows so much more than we do: “How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand” (vv. 17–18). Life is not a random sequence of days determined simply by chance or even by the feeble choices we make. Ultimately, our lives are in his hands.

When we reflect on God’s intimate knowledge of us, it should bring us both comfort and disruption. On the one hand, it is comforting to know that God knows everything about us, including all our sins, fears, cowardice, and just plain kookiness, and yet still loves us everlastingly. On the other hand, it is disquieting, to say the least, that he knows everything about us, including every inner thought, every impure motive, every jealousy, and so on. This psalm even goes so far as to say that he not only “perceive[s] [our] thoughts” but even “before a word is on [our] tongue[s],” he knows it “completely” (vv. 2, 4). When this psalmist asks, “Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence?” (v. 7) it is both comforting (God is always with me and will never forsake me) and terrifying (I cannot hide from him; his eyes are always upon me).

At times, all of us resist this great truth and want to maintain control of our own lives. We want to determine our own destiny and do it our way. Alternatively, we deceive ourselves into thinking that we can hide from God. When this happens, we should turn to the concluding prayer of this psalm: “Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting” (vv. 23–24).

Before we leave this remarkable psalm, we should clarify two rather disturbing verses that appear just before this final prayer. David says, “Do I not hate those who hate you, O Lord, and abhor those who rise up against you? I have nothing but hatred for them; I count them my enemies” (vv. 21–22). These verses are not about any personal vendetta that David has against his enemies. Rather, he is zealous for the preservation of the glory of God and this is expressed by the word “hatred”—which, as we have noted earlier, means his “standing against” all those who plot and scheme against the rule and reign of God in the world. The New Testament will, of course, redirect this zeal by showing the even greater power of love. In the end, God’s foes are defeated, not through an exercise of power and righteous vehemence, but through kindness, love, and prayer. Jesus’ admonition for us to love our enemies (Matt. 5:44) is, remarkably, not the cancellation or erasure of David’s prayer. Rather, it is the fulfillment of it. It was through Jesus’ own sacrifice, bearing the curses that were deservedly cast upon the wicked, that a “new and living way” is opened up (Heb. 10:20). The way of love is an even more powerful way of standing against evil. The zeal of David in these closing verses is not cancelled by the New Testament, but we are shown a “more excellent way” (1 Cor. 12:31 ESV) in how that zeal interfaces with those who defy God’s rule.

Prayer: The Posture of Prayer

This weeks devotion is written by Pastor Brian Rhea, a contributing author to Seedbed.com, and is entitled, “Moment of Silence Before God.” We hope this devotion encourages your faith.

Every Sunday morning, after a hymn of praise and praying a Collect together, the churches I serve have a “moment of silence before God.” I conclude the silence with an extemporaneous prayer, usually inviting God to encounter us during our worship service. I’ve never timed how long the silence lasts—and it probably varies week to week—but I wait until it feels uncomfortable, and then wait some more. It may be the only time each week that our children are that quiet! While there’s usually a little bit of rustling or coughing, we have a genuine moment of stillness.

Long ago, during my first pastorate, I left the worship service one morning with the sinking feeling I’d not offered any space for people to meet God. Oh, I hoped they would meet God during the hymns we sang or the sermon I preached or the Scriptures we’d read—but there was no rest from the activity of the service. Content was constant. And while I had carefully prepared that content, while I’d arranged those Scriptures and hymns and sermon as a unified whole to offer a focused Word from God, there was no breathing room. There was no opportunity to allow that content to sink in, no place to meditate on that content; and there was certainly no space to meet God outside the bounds of my carefully crafted service. After that realization, I tried regularly including a place for silent prayer, usually with the pianist playing quietly.

Some years later I became an associate pastor at a large church where, unless I was preaching, I was handed the order of worship I was expected to lead. That first Sunday, I saw there was a “moment of silence” after the opening prayer. So, to be an obliging associate, we were silent. After the service a couple thanked me. “You actually led us in a true moment of silence! Not just a few seconds, but a real, deep silence!” They were from a Quaker background, and the church itself was in a town founded by Quakers. The idea of beginning worship with silence was new to me, but I now deeply treasure it.

Silence gives us space to pray as we have need. Silence allows us to center ourselves and prepare to meet with God. Silence calls us out of the noise of the world and acts as a threshold into the holy space of worship. Silence molds us into an attitude of humility before our Creator—being slow to speak and quick to listen (James 1:19).

This silence is not a void; it is not empty of content. Eastern religions privilege an emptying of one’s mind (for in silence we can realize there is essentially no distinction between our own selves, the universe, or deity), but for Judaism and Christianity silence is about space to fill one’s mind properly. We meditate on Torah, God’s instruction for us (Joshua 1:8; Psalm 1:2). We become still, in order to know that the LORD is God (Psalm 46:10). We let silence drown out the wind, earthquake, and fire, because God is present in the voice of sheer silence (2 Kings 19:12).

Likewise, our “moment of silence before God” in Sunday morning worship is not meant to be completely void of content. We have just prayed a Collect and invoked the Trinity, so we are aware of which God we are being silent before. Prior to the Collect we stood and sang a hymn praising this God; prior to the hymn we heard words from Scripture calling us to worship this God. Our silence is space, but it is intentional space—space directing us toward the One who, in the midst of primeval silence, spoke the words “Let light be,” and it was. What word of new creation might that One speak into our present silence?

I see our moment of silence before God as a necessary call to attention, and space enabling that attention. I should probably incorporate silence, or at least reflective space, elsewhere in the service on a regular basis. Some reasons—which could all become articles in their own right!—include:

  1. Silence is Biblical. It’s Biblical not simply because some Scripture passages exhort silence (Habakkuk 2:20; Zephaniah 1:7; Zechariah 2:13; cf. Ecclesiastes 5:1-2), but because silence was an integral part of Temple worship (cf. the Letter of Aristeas 92-95).

  1. Silence is traditional. It has long been part of Christian prayer in monastic practice, especially in the Hesychast tradition.

  1. Silence is necessary for human health. Science shows the need for silence, as a quick internet search will demonstrate.

  1. Silence is counter-cultural. Our world has a love affair with noise. We love the sound our own voices. We also know that sound is safer than silence. Noise insulates us from pondering spiritual realities. We can cheerfully move from distraction to distraction and ignore our obligations to our Creator.

  1. Silence expresses our dependence on God. The weekly Sabbath proclaimed to the antagonistic nations that human striving could not achieve human potential; God alone is the ground of our being. So, too, a moment of silence testifies to the inadequacy of our words. God is the Word before whom all speech falls mute.

Prayer: The Paradise of God's Presence

Our devotion this week is written by J.D. Walt and is entitled, “Right Here. Right Now.” J.D. Walt is the Executive Director at Seedbed.com. We hope this devotion encourages your faith.

“He ascended into Heaven and sitteth at the right hand of God the Father Almighty.”

I love how Timothy Tennent, who writes our Daily Text each Sunday, puts it. He says Jesus did not just ascend from here to there. Because he ascended into the Heavens, he ascended from here to everywhere.

This is perhaps the first and most important teaching on prayer. We aren’t sending our prayers “up there somewhere.” We are speaking directly and immediately to the Risen Son of God. Though unseen to the naked eye, he is right here, right now. Jesus is not with us in the sense that someone who can’t come to our birthday party says they will be with us “in spirit.” Jesus is not with us “in spirit,” but in person–in the power of the Holy Spirit.

The Great Commission Jesus gave his disciples ends with the words, “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” By this he did not mean, “I’ll be pulling for you in Heaven.” No, he meant WITH YOU. In fact, it is the very meaning of his name: Emmanuel—God with us.

The ascension of Jesus mysteriously means two completely different things all at the same time. He is high and lifted up. He is nearer than our breath. This makes prayer “in the name of Jesus” far more than the expression of human longing. Jesus raises prayer to the level of participation in the unfolding of the will of God— on Earth as it is in Heaven.

The Ascension of Jesus Christ makes Christian prayer possible. To pray as a Christian does not mean, “I’ll be thinking about you,” as well-meaning people are prone to say when our life goes off the rails. It does not mean, “We will keep you in our thoughts and prayers,” as the anchor person on the evening news casually repeats in the wake of unthinkable tragedy. To pray as a Christian means immediacy of access to Jesus, who is right here, right now.

I want you to deeply ponder those four words. They are the foundation on which everything else we will discuss concerning prayer stands.

Right here. Right now. Most people wait until the end of their life to finally discover this ultimate reality.

Discover it now.

Right here. Right now.

Advent 2022: Seeing the Unseen

We are excited to share with you this week’s devotional written by our own Judi Morrison. As we focus on Advent through the lens of family, we hope this devotional encourages your faith.

The sign on my office door read, “Santa’s Workshop: Do NOT Enter.”

The grandkids were delighted.

There is nothing like the joy of anticipation! Their smiles broadened and their excitement bubbled over into giggles when I said that, Yes, there were two presents for each one behind that forbidden and barricaded door. There were more than two weeks to go til Christmas morning and that seemed like a long time to wait.

Waiting is hard when what we anticipate holds good surprises and the possibility of longings fulfilled.

Millennia ago, God promised His people, “Behold, a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and you shall call his name Immanuel, which means, ‘God with us’” (Matthew 1:23 quoting Isaiah).

Hope arose and the waiting began. They waited, and waited, and waited. Then one day, the angel came and said, “Now is the time!”

He spoke to Zechariah who said, “I’m not sure I believe this.” He spoke to Mary who said, “How can this happen...I will do whatever God asks;” to Joseph who said Yes to the upheaval and danger that would follow. He spoke to the shepherds who said, “We’ve got to see this for ourselves!”

The responses of these people - doubt, confusion, obedience, wonder...I’ve experienced them all. I am thankful that the coming of the Messiah didn’t depend on the frailty of human understanding. I am thankful God’s promises do not depend on us. Rather, it is He who is the faithful one. What He has promised, He will do.

The gifts Mark and I give our grandchildren will fade away pretty quickly, though I hope they give them some temporary happiness. But, at Christmas, God gave us Himself; He is Immanuel, God With Us.

My prayer for you, my prayer for myself, is that this Christmas God will make the wonder

of that fulfilled promise very real in our hearts.

Have a blessed and joyful Christmas!

Advent 2022: Everyday Significance

This weeks devotional is entitled, “No Room At The Inn” and is written by our very own Char Seawell. As we focus on Advent through the lens of family, we hope this devotion encourages your faith.

No room at the inn.

And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.  Luke 2:7

Two pastors had come to this desert to cook carne asada on a small barbecue, hoping to feed and comfort any desert wanderer searching for freedom.

They were not alone in the desert: local vigilante groups had taken to this dry wilderness to harass children fleeing persecution in their homelands and the dangers that enveloped their families as they waited on the other side of the wall.

One pastor wondered aloud, “What will we do if the vigilantes come for us?”

We will offer them some carne asada.

They drove the border road together and in minutes encountered  a young boy standing in the middle of the road.

Mijo, que pasa (My Son, what’s going on)?

Tears fell from the boy’s face, only five years old, as he told the story of his family’s 3,000 mile journey from Guatemala.

What is your name? asked one of the pastors in Spanish.

Mi nombre es Esteban.

Cartels and the violence they perpetrated against those waiting at the wall had precipitated his solo journey through the desert.  In his pocket was the number of a relative to call in the U.S. if he was found.

A few months later, one of these same pastors hiked the canyon near his home seeking peace and solitude.  Cries for helped flew out of the canyon below.  Working his way down the mountainside, he encountered a couple holding a migrant clinging to life, hypothermic from a fall into a stream.  The hikers spoke no Spanish.  But the pastor did.

What is your name?

Barely conscious ,the struggling migrant answered.

Mi nombre es Javier.

One hiker ran for help.  The pastor spoke words of comfort while the hiker’s wife wrapped her coat and scarf around Javier’s shivering body using her own body heat as she wrapped herself around him, cradling his head in her lap until help could arrive.

They were not alone.

Jesus was in the boy wandering in the desert.
Jesus was in the stranger dying in the canyon.

Then and now, there were no rooms in the inn.  Our inn.  The richest inn in the world.  The inn with limitless resources.  The inn dubbed a nation of followers of Jesus.

But the Good Samaritan had room - for carne asada, for a boy lost in the desert, for a phone call for help.  For Estevan.

And the Good Samaritan had room - for a coat for warmth, and words of comfort, and a loving touch cradled in the lap of a stranger who heard his cries.  For Javier.

Because there is always room at the inn

for those who encounter the Good Samaritan.