War and Peace

 “The sole cause of wars and revolutions and battles is nothing other than desire.” —Plato (5th Century BC)

“It is insatiable desires which overturn not only individual men, but whole families, and which even bring down the state. From desires there spring hatred, schisms, discords, seditions and wars” —Cicero (1st Century BC)

“What causes fights and quarrels among you? Is it not this, that your passions are at war within you? You desire and do not have, so you murder. You covet and cannot obtain, so you fight and quarrel. You do not have, because you do not ask” —James (1 Century AD).

What causes revolution, war, schism, discord, sedition, border disputes, racial tension, marital spats, sibling rivalry? Why can’t we get along?

Ancient wisdom answers: Conflict stems from “desire,” a Greek word (hedone) from which we get our word “hedonism.” Hedonism is the belief that pleasure is the highest good. Taken to its extreme it is a relentless pursuit of personal pleasure without regard for others.

There is nothing intrinsically wrong with pleasure. “Pleasures are shafts of glory,” C. S. Lewis said, intimations of God’s goodness and love, serendipitous occasions of his grace. Pleasures only become troublesome when they're snatched in the wrong way, or at the wrong time. 

The worst of it comes when the pursuit of pleasure puts us in conflict with another human being similarly inclined. Two drivers converging on the last parking space at a crowded mall comes to mind. One or the other is thwarted, a frustration that can escalate into lethal rage. “You want something, but don’t get it, (so) you kill,” James writes. The unguarded pursuit of pleasure leads to terrifying violence. James does well to warn us.

James’ solution is profoundly simple: When in the pursuit of pleasure you collide with someone pursuing his or her pleasure, rather than insist that your needs be met, stop, step back and “ask (God)." Bernard of Clairvaux wrote long ago, “What will you do if your needs are not met? Will you look to God to meet your needs? God promises that those who seek first the kingdom and his righteousness will have all things added to them” (from On the Love of God).

One proviso: We cannot dictate the time or terms of our satisfaction. It may be that God will give us what we desire straight away, or he will give it later. Or he may ask us to forgo the thing we sought, but give us the pleasure we sought apart from the thing we were seeking, for lasting peace and joy, of necessity, exist apart from natural causes.

Whatever, our Lord gives a “greater grace” (4:6), greater than any outcome we snatch on our own.

David Roper
1.31.22

Jacob’s Ladder

Jacob was on the lam, fleeing from Esau’s fury, and came to “no particular place,” as the Hebrew text suggests. As night was falling, he cleared a spot in the rubble-strewn ground, and found a flat rock on which to lay his head. He soon lapsed into a deep sleep in which he began to dream. In his dream Jacob saw a stairway, rising from the stone at his head, connecting heaven and earth.

The traditional ladder is such a favorite image it’s a shame to give it up, yet the picture of angels in ungainly apparel scrambling up and down the rungs of a ladder leaves much to be desired. The term usually translated “ladder” actually suggests a stairway or stone ramp like those that led to the top of ziggurats, the terraced pyramids raised to worship the gods of that era. The ziggurat with its steep stairway was a symbol of man’s efforts to plod his way up to God. It was hard work, but there was no other way to get help when you needed it (see Genesis 11:1–4).

It’s odd how that pagan notion has found its way into our theology. Some early Christian writers used the ladder as an analogy for spiritual progress, tracing the steps of Christian faith from one stage to another, rising higher by self effort. Walter Hilton’s literary classic The Ladder of Perfection is based on that notion. The  old camp-meeting song “We Are Climbing Jacob’s Ladder”draws on that association. And who can forget “Stairway to Heaven" by Led Zeppelin? In each case the emphasis is on the ascent of man.

What caught Jacob’s attention, however, was the fact that God had come down the stairway and was standing next to him, for that’s the meaning of the preposition translated “above” in 28:13. (“And behold, the LORD stood beside him,” The same Hebrew word is translated “nearby” in Genesis 18:2 and  “in front of,” in Genesis 45:1.)

God was standing beside  him. The God of Jacob’s father, Isaac, and grandfather, Abraham, was in this lonely place with him, contrary to Jacob’s expectations and far from the traditional holy places he normally associated with God’s presence. “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I was not aware of it,” Jacob declared with wide-eyed, childlike astonishment. “This [place] is none other than the house of God.”

Jacob got the message, but God was taking no chances. He highlighted the picture with a promise that would sustain Jacob through the weary days ahead: “I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go . . . I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised” (Genesis 28:15).

His promise is our promise as well. “God has said, ‘I will never leave you; I will never forsake you’” (Hebrews 13:5). He is present with you today—in the lonely place where you find yourself sequestered. Our Lord is with you every moment of every day. There is no moment when you are alone. You can say of every site and circumstance, “Surely the Lord is in this place.”

G. K. Chesterton was asked by a reporter what he would say if Jesus were standing beside him. “He is,” Chesterton replied with calm assurance.

David Roper 1.19.22

Adapted from the chapter “Jacob’s Ladder” in The God Who Walks Beside Us 

Grace Upon Grace (Upon Grace)

He said to me, "What do you see?” I said, “I see a lamp stand of gold, with a bowl on the top of it, and seven lamps on it, with seven lips on each of the lamps that are on the top of it. And there are two olive trees by it, one on the right of  the bowl and the other on its left.”  And I said to the angel who talked with me, “What are these, my lord?” Then he said to me, “This is the word of the LORD to Zerubbabel: Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the LORD of hosts.   Who are you, O great mountain? Before Zerubbabel you shall become a plain. And he shall bring forward the top stone amid shouts of ‘Grace, grace' to it!" (Zechariah 4:2–7).

Zachariah envisioned a menorah with a receptacle at the top to catch the oil that dripped continuously from two olive trees that flanked it.

"What is this?" Zechariah asked. This is the word of the Lord to Zerubbabel: "Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit." 

Zachariah was called to encourage Israel's governor Zerubbabel and those associated with him who were rebuilding the temple in Jerusalem, a structure that the Babylonians had reduced to a "great mountain" of rubble. "Carry on," Zechariah insists, "for the Spirit of God is an indefatigable source of strength and energy."

Thus, in like manner, you and I can tackle mountains great and small, not by our own strength, but by the ever-present resources that flow from the Spirit of God. "if we burn steadily through the long dark hours, it is because we have learned to translate into living beauty those supplies of grace which we receive in fellowship with Jesus" (FB Meyer).

What mountain (or mountains) do you face this morning?  A difficult encounter that looms before you? A relationship that has been reduced to rubble? A painful, sinful habit you've tried again and again to surmount? 

So carry on. The Spirit of God is with you, an unfailing, ever-present source of grace. "For from his fullness [you have] received, grace upon grace, upon grace, upon grace, upon grace, upon grace, ad infinitum" (John 1:16).   

David Roper 

1.16.22

It’s Impossible! (Thoughts on the New Year)

"Thus says the LORD of hosts: 'Old men and old women shall again sit in the streets of Jerusalem, each with staff in hand because of great age. And the streets of the city shall be full of boys and girls playing in its streets…’ Thus says the LORD of hosts: 'If it is marvelous (impossible) in the sight of the remnant of this people in those days, should it also be marvelous (impossible) in my sight,' declares the LORD of hosts?’" (Zechariah. 8:4–6). 

Jerusalem had been reduced to a pile of rubble and yet, as Zechariah assured God’s people, the city would be built again: old men and women would gather in the parks and squares of the city to kvetch and kibitz; children would play in the streets. 

"Impossible," Zechariah's detractors muttered.

But we should never allow reason or common sense to tell us what God can or cannot do. He is the God of the impossible, the one who created perfect order (cosmos) out of primal chaos (Jeremiah 32:25). Nothing is impossible for him to do! (cf. Genesis 11:14; Job 42:2; Matthew 19:26).

He can reclaim a life that is ruined beyond reclamation. He can find a prodigal that is irretrievably lost. He can soften a heart that has hardened into stone. He can heal a church that is beyond repair. 

Indeed, "you will see greater things than this,” Jesus said (John 1:50). There is nothing that the LORD of Hosts cannot do! 

Got any rivers you think are impossible?

Got any mountains you can’t tunnel through?

God specializes things thought impossible;

And He can do what no other power can do.

David Roper
1.2.22