Category: Faith

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The Church in Exile

Israel was sent into exile. Their rebellious behavior – not only toward God, but also against the Babylonian Empire – forced Nebuchadnezzar’s hand. While the Babylonian king had tried to avoid playing the “exile” card, his other moves failed to squelch their resistance. When “enough was enough,” he marched his troops into Jerusalem. He razed the city, burned the temple and exiled the Judean residents to Babylon.

If the world can be turned upside down in one moment’s time, being exiled to Babylon was it. Questions were raised and the struggle for faith ensued. Was God impotent and finally lost the battle to the other gods? Were all the promises of God merely “hevel,” like a futile attempt to grasp mist? How will religious faith be expressed without the temple and sacrifice? The void of all they knew and understood could probably be summed up in their own Psalm of lament, “How can we sing the songs of the Lord while in a foreign land?” (Ps. 137:4).

When Peter wrote to the Christian community he chose classic Jewish language at the outset of his letter to describe his church. They were elected and chosen by God just like Moses told Israel (Deut. 14:2). But more importantly, Peter picked up on the captivity language that had been woven into the Jewish mindset to apply to the church. His two key words are strangers (NIV), to which the RSV translates as “exiled.” Also, he drops “diaspora” which the NIV translates “scattered” and the RSV says “dispersed.” While the use of “exile” is clear enough, “diaspora” was the word used to describe Israel having been dispersed/scattered throughout the world because of the exile.

The church in exile. That’s Peter description. We live in a place we don’t really belong. We’re aliens. People look at us with suspect because we don’t quite fit in. And while we’re being model citizens and good neighbors, his call for us to live holy lives (1 Pet. 1:15) runs counter to the rest of the world, who look at us in wonder. And when the world is anti-Jesus and anti-church, our refusal to lean against the world but lean into the attacks compounds their confusion (1 Pet. 2:19-23).

We feel the exile today, though for very different reasons. Because of the COVID-19 Pandemic, everyone is being forced to limit our activity and stay home. Many businesses have closed or have laid off employees. Foot traffic is limited. Money flow has slowed and in some places stopped. Social distancing has driven a society even further apart in loneliness and isolation.

Churches are far from immune. The “exile” feeling has kept us away from each other, except for those few churches standing against common sense in the midst of a pandemic. Experiencing worship and teaching has moved on line while we engage each other with words without faces. Assembly time not the same, and we know it. It’s creating a deep longing to be together and in the void we wonder what Israel wondered long ago, “Where are you, God?”

When Ezekiel witnessed the vision of God as the “wheel in the middle of the wheel (Ex. 1:1-3:15),” God was answering Israel’s deepest question. Ezekiel was part of the Exiled. At age 30 he should have begun his ministry as a priest in Jerusalem’s temple. Instead, God called him to a prophetic ministry. Imperative to his calling was God’s presence. God never stayed behind in Jerusalem while Israel was exiled. No. He moved to Babylon with them. He’d sit with them. He’d mourn with them. He’d continue to call them back to him. He’d listen to songs they sang in the foreign land. So if God’s presence was real during Israel’s exile, where do you think he is during our “feelings of exile”?

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)

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FAITH IN CRISIS: A Psalm of Lament for the Church

How long, O Lord? Must we cry out to your Name?
How long, O Lord? Will our pleas echo in the chamber of your throne-room?
How long, O Lord? Will you turn your face away from
We feel the social distance from you.
Every day the isolation suffers like a prison sentence.
How long will we be forced into solitude?

Every day the news is dar
As we seek to find the light.
The number sickened by COVID-19 climbs,
While the number of available PPE’s diminishes.
Unemployment rates are rising,
As businesses struggle to stay afloat.
With high school seniors, born about the time of 9-11,
Graduating in the midst of a Pandemic.
And churches no longer able to assemble;
The online experience only fills a temporary void,
Like empty calories inside empty church buildings.
How long, O Lord? Till the tide turns?

We look to you for an answer,
But what we hear is white noise.
They say, “God is punishing the Land for its sins:
By closing athletic venues for worshiping athletes;
By shutting down theaters for propping up entertainers;
By collapsing the stock market for embracing greed;
By locking down the parks for focusing on the creation instead of the Creator.”
And when they speak we fall into despair.

Hear our petitions and respond to our cries,
Like a parent who wakes in the night at their child’s cry;
Like a parent who wakes in the night at their child’s cry.
Send us your comfort for we are shaken and fearful,
For we feel abandoned;
For we feel forsaken.
We wait for you in the night,
Knowing the night is always darkest before the dawn.

What shall we do until you speak?
How shall we proceed until you act?
We shall remember your great deeds of the past,
We shall hope and live in your promises.
We shall pray diligently and passionately,
For our own confession and repentance,
And to intercede on behalf of the wounded and afflicted.
We shall sing your praises 
And we shall sing them to the top of our lungs.
We shall be your Comfort to those needing comforting,
And bring the Light to those in the darkness.

For our hope and trust is rooted in you,
And in your salvation through your Son.
As we long for a day when your people will assemble again,
We long for that Day when we assemble in your very presence.
For it is your love that sustains us,
And your grace which holds us together.
And your promise that give us hope.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)
Inspired by Psalm 13 ● Lament is a passionate expression of grief or sorrow

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The Faith Continuum: Striking the Balance Between Fear & Arrogance

“I do believe, help me overcome my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24)

Not long ago I watched a video of someone trying to speak into the anxiety we’re experiencing as a society. He discussed the tension between fear and faith. The perspective he offered provided a single choice between two clearly defined actions: fear or faith. With lines drawn we’re given a specific choice, and the biblical narrative accentuates the two decisions: we can either act in faith or fear.  

When the disciples are crossing the Sea of Galilee in the storm and, whether Jesus is sleeping in the boat (Mk. 4:35-41) or walking on the water (Mk. 6:47-52), their reaction is the same, fear instead of faith. When Jesus is arrested, the twelve scattered into the night, choosing fear instead of faith (Mk. 14:40). The fear of the young man present was so strong he’d rather be caught naked than with Jesus (Mk. 14:51). Following the resurrection, and right before Jesus appeared to them, ten of the disciples were hiding behind locked doors in fear of the Jews (Jn. 20:19). If they came after Jesus, they’re coming after the twelve.

We know fear. It paralyzes our faith and keeps us from stepping out of the boat and onto the water. Once walking in faith, it draws our eyes off of Jesus and onto the waves so that we sink. Fear keeps us from making decisions. Doubt and guilt jump on board for fear tells us, “what if the alternative we make is the wrong choice?” So we resort to a “no-decision” believing it’s the safest decision. And in the process, faith is pushed to the corner of our lives where it simply collects dust.

For the longest time I saw fear and faith as the only options. I now feel it’s more complicated. First, while fear stands on one side of faith, arrogance stands on the other. Arrogant pride is often harder to dissect for it comes off as confidence. And the assurance is not in God, but self. It does not point to God but to self. Samson thumbing his nose at God and his parents by violating his Nazarite vow (see Judges 14:3 which should be translated, “she’s the right one in my eyes”). Jesus told the parable of the two men going to the temple to pray, and the prideful one bragged about his piety and measured his spirituality against the guy next to him (Lk. 18:9-14). When the devil tempted Jesus, he quoted from Psalm 91 (ironically, a Psalm that many have posted on FaceBook), tempting Jesus to jump to his “death.” Jesus refused the bait and warned the devil of putting God to the test (Lk. 4:9-11).  Jesus’ challenges us to seek humility, for if not on your own, God will ensure humility (Lk. 18:14).

But the second realization is that faith is all about a continuum, as degrees are present on either side of faith. The father in Mark 9 had a level of faith, but his faith was somewhere between faith and fear. Peter had faith, but when he promised to die with Jesus (Mk. 14:29), his faith was somewhere between faith and arrogance. While we aim for faith, we generally find ourselves fluctuating between fear and faith or faith and arrogance.

So here we stand in faith, which is now feeling like a moving target. And it is. And it’s always felt like a moving target, not because God moves it but we move it. Faith’s “move” occurs because we fluctuate between fear and arrogance. Faith “moves” because of our sinful nature will not allow us to remain steady. So in truth, faith is constant, we are not.

So how do you know where you stand? If you’re even asking this question, you’re probably closer to acting in faith than you think. If you’re pointing the spotlight on others and off of yourself, you’re probably standing closer to faith than you think. If your biblical assurance is mixed with the humble reality of “I could be wrong,” then you’re probably drawn to faith more than you think. If you have a heart to serve your neighbor, then you’re inching your way to faith more than you think. If you speak in confessional tones, then you’re probably nearer to faith than you think. If you make decisions based on the good of others more than what’s good for you, then your edging closer to faith more than you think.

“I do believe,” was the cry of the father. It’s our cry too as we continue to walk in faith without fear or arrogance.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)

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“Let’s Be Careful Out There!” Faith in the Face of Fear

Sergeant Phil Esterhaus, played by Michael Conrad, gave roll call and the morning report to the men and women comprised of the precinct on Hill Street. He was the father figure to the police officers and the voice of reason. After summarizing the local crime activities, he dismissed the officers but not before warning them, “Let’s be careful out there!”

Police work is hard and dangerous work. Police work in the urban cities carries its own unique difficulties with so many people living in such tight quarters. A daily reminder to keep vigilant is not only needed but wise in its own right.

We live in a time of heightened anxiety. Fear feels like it’s lurching behind every corner and dark alleyway. With the opioid crises still hovering, crime rates higher than what is comfortable, amount of (sex) trafficking keeps growing and with the high level of domestic violence, we need reminded to be careful out there.

Being careful out there does not mean we embrace fear, for we are a people of faith. But being people of faith also does not mean we ignore our surroundings, in fact we should be mindful of what is happening around us. Even Jesus exhorted the Twelve to mindful of current events unfolding around them, either in regard to the temple’s destruction and/or to his return (three times he says “watch” in Mark 13:32-35). But he doesn’t tell us to be afraid, worried or filled with anxiety.

I believe what drives the fear today comes from two sources. First is the twenty-four hour news cycle. Not only do these news media outlet use fear to drive their coverage/agendas, but the fear keeps us from turning it off. Like a cliffhanger, we’re driven to see what happens next. Ultimately, we have no time to process and reflect on the information feeding us (Ps. 1:2; 46:10). So we’re overwhelmed by information and exasperated at the same time.

Secondly, social media exasperates our fear. By leveling the playing field, a person’s voice is heard and engaged when normally they are discarded or ignored. Even more so, he who has an opinion caries the same weight as a specialist in that same field (and memes are viewed, not as satire, but as solid truth). Everyone, then, is an expert accountant, historian, theologian, doctor, etc. Feeding that mindset is the amount of disingenuous websites available to the public, wherein we know nothing of their origin or agenda. Even then, conspiracy theorists throw shade on the fact-checkers. We’re overwhelmed with information and have (or should have) trust issues with sources of information. No wonder we live in a time of heightened fears.

As people of faith we neither panic when facing uncertain times nor be dismissive without cause or evidence. True faith is the non-anxious presence, like Jesus sleeping on the boat in the midst of the storm (Mk. 4:35-38). The wind and the waves were real and the disciples were afraid. Fear, not just of the deep, but the actual danger drove the disciples into panic. But Jesus is not simply sleeping on the job or sticking his head in the sand to hoping the storm goes away. He’s resting in the One who holds the world in his hands. He lives in faith.

Faith might mean we use the news media to get the information we need, and then turn it off so that it does not consume us. Faith might mean we put social media aside so that we stay in our moment, not someone else’s moment. Faith might mean we’re staying prepared for an emergency without being consumed by something that may or may not happen. Faith might mean not crossing the emotional/imagined bridge before actually arriving at the bridge. Faith might mean inviting someone to your table, even if the oil runs dry. Faith might mean washing your hands for twenty seconds, then going on with life as normal. Faith might mean creating some physical distance without creating emotional distance.

So Sergeant Esterhaus was right, “Let’s be careful out there!” And while we’re being careful, let’s avoid checking our faith at the door on the way out.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)

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“Where Are You, God?” Faith in the Midst of Suffering

Questioning God’s presence or his sovereign rule during the midst of tragic suffering is common among believers. One might say it’s the norm. For if everything is under God’s reign, then what happens under his watch is on him. The buck has to stop somewhere. “Where are you, God?” ends up being a good question.

While Jesus was hanging on the cross, he cried out in a loud voice, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mt. 27:46; Mk. 34). Most people believe Jesus was facing a form of “separation anxiety.” At the very moment God turned his back on his Son, Jesus felt alone, vulnerable and abandoned. Like a child who cannot find his parents in the store, Jesus appears to be unable to find God. 

When Job was enduring his assault from Satan he questioned God’s ability to rule. With a belief rooted in retribution, he announced his innocence having done nothing to deserve such punishment (Job 6:24-30). Job’s friends believed otherwise (Job 5:17) and assumed their friend was holding out on them. So disturbed, Job was willing to take God to court, even though he was convinced justice was beyond his reach (Job 9:3, 17-18).  

How do we step into the vacuum of the unanswerable question, “Where are you, God?”

Deadly tornados swept through Middle Tennessee leaving in its wake about a 200 (?) mile mass of destruction and death. At this time 24 people have died, most of whom are children and in Putnam County. While all have been accounted for, some 150 were hospitalized. One site claimed that 75 buildings were destroyed in Nashville alone. The number that hurts the most is the 18 children who died, particularly the four year-old girl of the Collegeside Church of Christ youth minister.

So in the midst of our pain as we endure the suffering around us, we ask, “Where are you, God?”

Job was granted his wish. He was offered the chance to present his case before God, but the Almighty asked the first series of questions. He grilled Job on the details of the universe and complications and difficulties of comprehending how the world even works. Job never received an answer for his suffering, even though we were told from the opening lines of the drama what was unfolding behind the scenes. Job realized that his finite mind cannot comprehend the infinite (Job 42:1-6). Sometimes that’s where we sit. We stop reading into the cause or looking for an explanation. Certainly, we refrain from indicting God. We simply trust that God is bigger than our biggest moment of tragic suffering.

Astute readers of Scripture will note that Jesus quoted Psalm 22:1 while on the cross. Some assume he was framing his suffering in the faith of the Psalmist because it reads like a prophecy to the cross. It also ends with hope, and the very next Psalm proclaim the faith of following the Good Shepherd (Ps. 23). But something else is at work too. As Jesus utters these words from the cross, it’s the only time in the New Testament where he refers to his Father as God. Even more so, Jesus personalizes his relationship with God by crying out, “My God, My God” (emphasis mine). The closeness and intimacy Jesus had with his Father is evident even in the most difficult, tragic and unjust moment in humanity’s history. Instead of focusing on “forsaken,” we should focus on his intimate relationship with God. He’s not just anybody’s God, he’s “my God.”

So we ask the question, “Where are you, God?” and in his silence we beg for an answer.

But God is far from silent. In the midst of a tornado, sickness, fear, forsakenness and death, God speaks. He provides an answer. He offers the answer. As we gaze upon the Golgotha hill, we watch Jesus suffering from the cross. For in the midst of his faithful suffering we find our answer. The God of the universe, who reigns above all, is suffering with us.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)

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Quality Control: It’s All About Their Fruit

“By their fruit you will recognize them” (Mt. 7:16).

When Jesus begins to bring closure to his Sermon on the Mount, he warns his listeners of coming false prophets. He describes them as wolves in sheep’s clothing. Then he changes metaphors and calls us to be fruit inspectors. He wants us to examine, not only the fruit itself, but also the source of the fruit. Like going through a grocery store, before you buy what they’re selling you’re running quality control on your purchase – bruising and level of ripeness. Jesus also calls for common sense, certain trees may look like they should produce fruit, but they don’t. Just because a plant produces something, and even if it looks right, doesn’t mean the “fruit” is good for you or tastes good. Then he adds, check out the tree itself because if it’s rotten it won’t produce anything of value. Cut it down and burn the wood (Mt. 7:16-20).

Jesus applies his imagery to his contemporary situation. Many call on the name of the Lord, but the Lord will not recognize them. Countless who do call are also able to perform incredible works like prophesying, exorcisms and various other miracles. Jesus says that just because they can do these wonderful and incredible things, doesn’t mean God is with them (Mt. 7:21-23).

Herein lies our struggle. We’re so enamored by the power of the “Spirit”, we’re willing to discount all the other evidence to the contrary. We stop inspecting whether the fruit actually exists in that person’s life. Does that person prophesy or perform miracles without any evidence of Jesus in their life? Do those people wax eloquently the very words we want to hear without any indication that they walk their talk? Sometimes it seems we’re so desperate to have our way we’re willing to compromise the very integrity of the gospel for our own agenda.

Two snapshots of this dilemma surfaces in Scripture. The first is when King Saul is in hot pursuit of David, and is intending to kill him. God has abandoned Saul, and in fact has allowed an evil spirit to dwell in him (1 Sam. 18:10). When he locates David, he finds him with Samuel, so he sends his men to retrieve him. Three times. And in each incident his men are overcome by the Spirit and begin prophesying (i.e. possibly praising God). So Saul takes matters into his own hands, and when he encounters Samuel, he’s dropped to the ground in prophesying (i.e. possibly praising God). As the people witness the actions of the king, they wondered if “. . . Saul was also among the prophets?” (1 Sam. 18:24c). Saul was not a prophet. The moment was God’s way of stepping in to prevent David’s harm. So just because the King of Israel finds himself prophesying and praising God doesn’t mean his life is lined up with God. In fact, Saul is not someone to look to for God’s redemption.

The other story comes from Acts 16 when Paul was in Philippi. A girl, possessed by a demon and a victim of trafficking, spoke truth about Paul and Silas. She followed them throughout the town shouting, “These men are servants of the Most High God, who are telling you the way to be saved” (Act. 16:17). But her life betrayed her words, so Paul cast the demon out of her. For Paul, the one who spoke the truth was just as important as the words used in declaring truth.

Jesus does not define his terms when it comes to “fruit,” nor does he tell us what the wolf will actually do once he’s invaded the fold, the imagery of very self-evident. He expects us to connect the dots. If Jesus’ opening words (5:3-11) have any bearing fruit, then the ones with spiritual power and words are driven by true humility, not pride. Remorsefulness of sin is the burden weighing on them; they neither brag nor dismiss their sin. A power fueled by God and not by self is present. They have a passionate pursuit of God’s righteousness and not their own self-righteousness. Generous mercy overspills their lives. A purity of heart is evident by words and actions. They seek peace first. Finally, because of their lives lining up with God, they accept character assassination as Jesus endured.

So before we give too much credence and credibility to a human who speaks the right words with an overabundance of charisma, implementing some discretion might be worth the time. It’s biblical to make sure their lives actually reflect the one they’re speaking for and about. Jesus calls us to accountability as fruit is produced from our trees. It’s not being judgmental, it’s quality control.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)

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Soul Erosion

Soil Erosion is the gradual wearing away of the land by water, wind and general weather conditions. Sand erosion is the effect of erosion on our beaches.

In 1999 the 208 foot Cape Hatteras Lighthouse in North Carolina was relocated to more than a quarter-mile back from the shoreline where it was threatened by the encroaching Atlantic Ocean. Erosion along the shore had chewed away about 1300 feet of beach, bringing the waves within 150 feet of the sentinel (when it was erected in 1870, it stood some 1500 feet from the waves). Erosion is not just plaguing the Outer Banks. Coastal residents up and down the United States are worrying about undermined cliffs, disappearing beaches and the occasional fallout of the “foolish man” building his house on the sand.

Soul Erosion is the gradual wearing a way of a person’s spiritual life and vitality caused, not always by storms generated in life, but by the daily conflicts we’re forced to withstand. Such conflicts take only millimeters away from you, but after years you realize miles of your soul has been encroached. The scar from the “friend” who backstabbed you years ago is still tender to the touch. The social injustice continues to rear its ugly head and it seems far from being corrected, much less even acknowledged (usually it’s defended). The daily caring for a loved one whose health slowly deteriorates before you find all hope vanishing. Soul Erosion is a real and dangerous spiritually environmental condition that cannot be ignored; it has detrimental effects on our lives.

Somehow Joseph was able to withstand Soul Erosion, without having to relocate his own beacon. He was betrayed by his brothers, separated from his father, sold into slavery as a teenager, falsely accused of a sexual crime and left to rot in prison. He had every reason to be angry, bitter and to lose his faith. However, we find him patiently enduring and seeking a way to serve God no matter what the circumstances. God never abandoned him (Gen. 39:2-3, 5, 21, 23). Yes, he wanted justice (Gen. 40:14). But he never allowed the injustice of his situation to erode his desire to forgive his brothers (Gen. 45:14). In fact, while he knew that they intended to harm him, he realized God was using it for something good (Gen. 50:20).

For Joseph he was left alone to monitor the erosion of his soul. We, on the other hand, have the Church to help prevent Soul Erosion.

While Soul Erosion does not draw the attention of other spiritual problems, people do come to a point where they wonder where the joy of living is found. Why am I so cynical? Why is the youth wasted on the young? Why can’t I forgive?

When I was a youth minister, I talked to a 70 year-old woman about her cynicism. She responded, “When you’re my age and have endured what I have had to endure, then you can lecture me about Christian living.” Maybe she’s right, for with time, optimism erodes leaving pessimism bare. Then again, the Hebrews’ writer says the church has a preventative role, “Let us not give up meeting together as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another . . .” (Heb. 10:25) – and all the more as you survey the erosion of your soul

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified)

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Following In HIs Footsteps

To this you were called, because Christ suffered for you, leaving you an example that you should follow in his steps . . . when they hurled insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly.
(1 Peter 2:21-23)

When Peter was instructing slaves on how to respond to abusive masters, he pointed them to Jesus. He’s the example they should follow. In the midst of insults, threats and violence Jesus never struck back. He trusted God. Did it work out for him? No. He was executed. But he trusted God and is the example set not only for slaves but for all of us.

Peter understood the role of following Jesus. By the time he wrote his first letter he’d been following Jesus for some thirty years. Also, he understood failure in following Jesus because he himself tripped and fell early on in his discipleship.

Mark 8-10 unveils that early journey of the disciples. The trip begins in the northern Gentile region of Caesarea Philippi (named for Caesar Augustus and Philip of Macedon [i.e. Alexander the Great’s father]), and was a political hotbed too. Here Peter makes his confession and gets into a heated discussion with Jesus over the role of his Messiahship. As Jesus heads back to Jerusalem he passes through Galilee where the disciples argued over their own greatness. Finally, when they were headed up to Jerusalem, James and John made their ego-driven request for the seat of power. Let’s take a moment and unpack each of these moments.

* Caesarea Philippi (Mk. 8:31-38). In clarifying his role as the confessed Messiah, Jesus points to discipleship. He links his impending death, his first prediction, to those who wish to follow him. If Jesus is going to the cross and his disciples are going to follow him, then following in his footsteps means suffering even to the point where you’re willing to sacrifice your own life. Discipleship demands us to choose to loose life in order to gain it, which is exactly what Jesus did by going to the cross.

* Capernaum (Mk. 9:30-37). Instead of contemplating Jesus’ second prediction for his death, they decided to argue over who is the greatest among the Twelve. So Jesus, assuming the role of authority and of a Rabbi by sitting down, takes a child into his arms and tells them to become like this child. Such a move says nothing about innocence but about status. Unlike today where children are often propped up and showcased, first century children were rarely seen and never heard from. They had no say and no power in society. At best they were a symbol of hope (e.g. oldest son will inherit a double portion). Becoming a child means giving up rights, power and status, which is exactly what Jesus did by allowing himself to be vulnerable to the suffering he experienced at the cross.

* Jerusalem (Mk.10:32-45). After Jesus makes his third, final and most graphic prediction of his death, James and John requests seats of power and authority. Jesus’ response asks them if they can drink the cup he drinks from and be baptized with the baptism he undergoes. While they agree they can, they don’t grasp Jesus’ point. The “cup” and “baptism” is his suffering that was at his door and the disciples will participate in that suffering as well. Jesus’ final conclusion to the discussion is claiming that he came to serve not to be served, and to give his life for others.

This past week I was watching a mini-documentary that followed one person’s journey through the Holy Lands. They called it “Following in the Footsteps of Jesus.” They went to the Jordan River, Jerusalem, temple mount and Gethsemane. I can imagine that something powerful occurs when you step into those historical places. Then again, something even more powerful occurs when followers follow Jesus in his footsteps by embracing his sufferings.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)

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Something Awesome * Something Breathtaking * Something Terrible

The mouth of the Columbia River is treacherous and considered the most dangerous water to navigate in the world. The deep strong river water currents collide with the Pacific Ocean waves making navigating nearly impossible. Most ship wreckages occur from running aground because of the large sediment deposits made by the Columbia.

The clear threat to the shipping lanes forced lighthouses to be built on the Oregon and Washington sides of the Columbia River. However, one more lighthouse was needed to ensure the safety of the ships, and the only location adequately positioned was a bolder named Tillamook Rock, shaped like a sea monster and located a mile off the Tillamook, Oregon coastline.

The year was 1879. Construction on the site began with surveying, building a temporary housing for the workers, dynamiting the rock to provide a level foundation to erect a permanent lighthouse structure. Between the running current and cold winds, danger lurked at every step. The Oregon coastal waters near Tillamook hover at fifty degrees year-round (ten degrees colder for winter months and warmer for summer months) making its waters miserably cold at its best. Fog rolling in severely limits vision. Storms made securing the rock nearly impossible as the crashing waves easily topped the six stories that comprised the rock.

For some 500 days crews diligently worked on converting the mammoth rock into a home base for the Tillamook Lighthouse. Even though modern advances of technology (by our standards) eluded the workers and the building was conducted by “primitive” methods, death claimed no workers; local Oregonians refused to help in construction because they feared the dangers. As for the weather conditions, combined with the isolation from civilization for those working at the facility, the lighthouse earned the nickname, “Terrible Tilly.”

Terrible. Only in the sense of something awesome and breathtaking. I think of those words used to describe the sea monster monument off the coast of Oregon.

Terrible. Only in the sense of something awesome and breathtaking. I think of qualities easily associated with God.

When we come into the presence of God we stand before someone so awesome it is beyond measure. He is “the Lord Most High who is the King over the entire earth” (Ps. 47:2). As our understanding of the world and universe continues to expand, so does our understanding of a God who called all of this into existence. Instead of seeing God as smaller – too small to create – we find a God who is far greater and more powerful than we can ever imagine.

When we come into the presence of God we stand before someone who takes our breath away. The Psalmist describes the heavens as declaring his glory (Ps. 19:1). Words cannot express our thoughts or imaginations when we look into the sky and watch the rising sun’s colors . . . or mesmerized by the fall colors on the trees . . . or star struck by the constellations . . . or fixated on the mountain as they touches the sky . . . or the beauty of a river cutting through the gorge . . . or studying a robin building a nest in the apple tree of your front yard. When we experience those moments, we’re getting a reflection of the glory God bestows, and even that is breathtaking.

When we come into the presence of God we stand before someone terrible, not in the since of evil but in the sense of his holiness. His holiness is a raging fire which consumes all evil and sinfulness. Awesome, as a word to describe God, can be interchanged with “terrible” (e.g. Psalm 47:2 in the KJV uses “terrible” where the NIV uses “awesome). Thus, God is to be feared, respected and revered. Flippant following will only end in a terrible crisis.

1957 saw the Tillamook Lighthouse decommissioned as the expense to maintain her far exceeded the appropriate and reasonable funds. But with her always came qualities we find in God: something awesome, something breathtaking and something terrible. And like God, she’ll be there forever.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)

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Name on the Throne

The death of King Uzziah brought a level of uneasiness if not unrest to the Southern Kingdom. Under Uzziah’s leadership Judah experienced everything a politician could hope for: economic prosperity, significant building projects and peace. With the military success and joint ventures with Israel, Judah saw the Northern and Southern Kingdoms almost as large (and prosperous?) as the united Kingdom of Israel under Solomon’s reign. For most of his 52 years Uzziah walked with God. The last dozen years his heart was not loyal and he suffered from leprosy as punishment. Yet the people loved their king and his death created a void and brought fear of an uncertain future.

His death is the marker for Isaiah’s vision (Is. 6). When this king died, Isaiah saw the true King of Israel on his throne with only the hem of God’s garment contained in the temple. Smoke filled room and strange looking seraphs sang “Holy, holy, holy” to the God of the universe. While uncertainly and unrest was unfolding in Judah, consistent control over all creation was present on the throne in heaven. God’s reassuring message was, “It’s ok. I’ve got this” because his Name is on the Throne.

Exile is a constant reminder of failure. The people of Israel failed to keep God’s covenant. The walls around Jerusalem failed to keep the Babylon army from penetrating the city. The people of Judah believed that God failed to protect them. Enter Ezekiel. When we pick up the story he’s thirty years of age, the same age a priest begins ministering in the temple. But he’s not in the temple; he’s in exile. Abandoned. Forgotten. Living out his life as a failure in captivity. If his dream was to minister in the temple, his dream morphed into a nightmare as he was part of the caravan to Babylon. The future was going to get worse before it was ever going to get better.

The marker for Ezekiel’s first vision was at the thirtieth year and fourth month, about the time he should have entered the ministry. God comes to Israel in a powerful windstorm, but the vision is complicated. God’s being carried by a wheel within a wheel to Babylon where he will take up residence with the exiled. The strange looking seraphs are with him and the description of what Ezekiel saw and paints is indescribable. God’s presence and reassuring message is clear, “I’m with you. It’s ok. I’ve got this” because his Name is on the Throne.  

The Lord’s Day on the Island of Patmos is the marker for John’s vision. The churches of Asia Minor were under two threats from the outside. The Jews were harassing the Christians at the local level, with Domitian calling for an all-out assault against the Church. While emperor worship was common in the first century, Domitian wanted people to worship him while he was still alive. The confession of the Church, “Jesus is Lord,” was unpatriotic and a threat to the State. So Domitian demanded loyalty, and those who refused to confess their loyalty faced the strong arm of the Empire. With only one apostle alive, the church at the end of the century was transitioning into dark and uncertain times.

John is invited into heaven where God showed him what will take place (Rev. 4). He witnesses the glory of God. The strange looking seraphs are once again present singing “Holy, Holy, Holy.” Lights were blazing with thunderous reverberations. A great sea, so calm and clear it looked like crystal glass, was before the throne. John sees God sitting on his throne with twenty-four elders sitting on their thrones; the elders fall to their knees and lay their crowns before God. A rainbow encompasses God’s throne. God’s presence on his throne is hardly passive but an active rule reassuring John and the Church, “It’s ok. I’ve got this” because his Name is on the Throne.

The Church continues to face turbulent and uncertain times. Entrenched in our own culture, surveys continue to show little to no moral difference between those actively engaged in congregations and those who are not. The active shootings we’ve witnessed in schools for twenty years has begun bleeding over into churches; people live in fear. Speaking of fear, the demographics shift and rise in minority groups coupled with embedded racism has caused much angst. Political party loyalty has almost become a test of Christian fellowship, while a National Christian faith is undermining the Gospel of Christ. In the meantime, church attendance and loyalty in America is shrinking as well as a vision to bring the Gospel to the world.

Yet in turbulent and uncertain times, we can be assured that God still sits on his throne in power and authority. He is actively overseeing his creation and his Church. His reassuring message to his church today remains, “It’s ok. I’ve got this” because his Name is still on the Throne.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e. only God is glorified!)