O Jerusalem!

Pray for the peace of Jerusalem!
May they be tranquil who love you!
Peace be within your walls
and tranquility within your towers!”
For my brothers and companions’ sake
I will say, ‘Peace be within you!’” (Psalm 122:6-8).

Jerusalem, in David’s day, was a drab little village, newly wrested from the Canaanites. The "house of the Lord" was a patched and threadbare tent. 

But it was the place God chose to gather His people in unity and tranquility. It was a city “bound firmly together” by God’s love (122:3).

Our "Jerusalem" is the Church: We "have come to Mount Zion, to the heavenly Jerusalem, the city of the living God." Our “house" (122:1) is not a building, but a body of "brothers and companions" in which we find solidarity and rest (122:3-5).

But sadly, congregations can be restless, unhappy aggregations of querulous people, wrangling over trivia, what Thackeray called, "the pigmy spites of the village spire."

What can I do for my brothers and companions?

I can “pray for the peace of Jerusalem.” Prayer is always the starting place for any human endeavor.

And I can “seek her good” (122:9, which means, among other things, that I, in humility, gentleness, patience and love will set aside my own good “to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” for the greater good of my brothers and companions (Ephesians 4:1-3).

David Roper

The Paradox of Power

And they have conquered him (the ancient dragon) by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, for they loved not their lives even unto death"(Revelation 12:11).

The weakness of evil is that it cannot overcome weakness. We overcome evil, as Jesus did, through the power of the cross, a symbol of voluntary, loving renunciation of power. 

I'm not a categorical pacifist; I believe, as a national policy, that evil men and women must be contained by force of arms. Paul commends the formation and maintenance of armies of national defense: “He (the state) is God's servant for your good. But if you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword (an instrument of capital punishment) in vain. For he is the servant of God, an avenger who carries out God's wrath on the wrongdoer” (Romans 13:4). George Orwell said that "we sleep peacefully in our beds at night only because a few rough men stand ready to do violence on our behalf." (Though I did a stint in the U.S. Army I never achieved the sobriquet, "a rough man." I was mostly in charge of a swimming pool.) 

But, to get back on track: It seems to me that everything is about power these days: social, economic, political, coercive power. But in an odd irony the only way any of us can gain power, when personal relationships are disordered,is to give it up. (I’m thinking this morning of tension in our families and with our friends.) Humility, meekness (non-defensiveness), forgiveness, love, and other aspects of personal righteousness forever trump brute force. In a jujitsu-like move, weakness becomes our strength. Paul, as you know, wrote exactly that (2Corinthians 12:10)

Evil in others (and the seven devils that reside in us) cannot touch us when we're willing, like Jesus, to lay down our lives. "In the end the Shadow is only a small and passing thing... righteousness and beauty are ever beyond its reach" (Tolkien).

David Roper

5.30.18

Ferns

Each will be like a hiding place from the wind,

a shelter from the storm,

like streams of water in a dry place,

like the shade of a great rock in a weary land.

—Isaiah 32:2 

Ferns are the "shut-ins" of God's flower kingdom,

Hidden in the mossy dwells and cool retreats

Their lace-like fronds uncurl in fresh, green beauty

Far from the busy world and dusty streets.

They bear no gorgeous flowers of gold or crimson,

No dainty blooms of blue or pearly white;

Their graceful leaves exhale no strong, sweet odor,

Their very seeds are hidden from our sight.

And yet, sometimes, to eyes that tire of brightness,

To senses sated with the rich perfume,

How grateful is the cool green of the fern-leaves

Set in the silence of some shaded room.

Can we not learn from them some blessed lesson,

We, who, like them, are growing in the shade?

Their lovely freshness is a constant beauty,

Dewy and sweet when summer blossoms fade.

When others come, who, dwelling in the sunshine,

Have grown a-weary of the toil and strife,

Can we not share with them our calm and quiet - 

Show them the beauty of a hidden life?

May we not give to them some tender message,

Some of the garnered peace we hold in store,

Some of the songs God giveth in the midnight,

When sleep flies from us and the pain is sore?

They walk with hurrying steps Life's busy highway,

Often the still, small voice they cannot hear;

But we can listen in the restful stillness

Its words of faith and hope and gladsome cheer.

We dwell in safety in our Lord's green pastures,

Our souls at rest the quiet waters by;

Willing to be since we may not be doing,

Living epistles, open to the eye.i

Our frail lives hidden in His strength eternal,

Guarded and shielded from the tempest's shock,

The wild winds pass us by - they cannot harm us

Where we are sheltered by our Fortress Rock.

Sometimes, perhaps, the ferns may long to blossom,

Even as we to see our work's reward;

Impatient of the stillness and the shadow,

Envy the roses on the sunny sward.

"Foolish!" we say, "the dust and heat would kill them,

That sweet, cool shadow is their very life,"

Yes - and, God knows, perhaps our spirit's beauty,

Might, like them, wither in the great world's strife.

So He doth keep us, set apart in shadow,

Far from the lovely garden's sunny sod;

And why He does it we shall know hereafter,

"Be still," He says, "and know that I am God!"

Can we not trust our loving heavenly Father

To do the very best that can be done,

Though one be planted in the glowing sunlight,

Set in the silence and the shadow - one?

Be we content to say our word in secret,

Content to wear our garb of sober green,

And, while the world is praising other workers,

Our tiny seeds cast out, though all unseen.

We may not show our love and zeal by labor,

Our hands are folded, though they tire of rest;

Fettered the feet that fain would run His errands,

Willing and swift. But yet, He knoweth best

Just the conditions which will suit our growing,

Just the environment we best may stand;

For the green ferns the cool depths of the forest,

And for our shade the "shadow of His hand."

—Annie Johnson Flint

More, More

“What shall I render to the LORD for all his benefits? I will lift up the cup of salvation and call on the name of the LORD" (Psalm 116:12).

Carolyn and I had breakfast at Le Peep yesterday. Our waitress brought our dark roast in a little brown carafe and left it on the table. Later, when I wanted more I held up my cup and Carolyn filled it to the brim.

How can you repay the Lord for all he has given you? He delights to give (James 1:17). Just hold up your cup and ask for more.

David Roper

5.19.18

What Gets the Incense?

"(Idols) have mouths, but do not speak; eyes, but do not see; ears, but do not hear; noses, but do not smell. They have hands, but do not feel; feet, but do not walk; and they do not make a sound in their throat" (Psalm 115:4–7).

Idolatry used to be direct—dancing around the Baalim and the Asherah poles. Present-day idolatry is more subtle and much harder to detect.

If we want to know our idols we need to think about what we think about, for our predominant thoughts revolve around the things that we treasure (Matthew 6:21). Our last thoughts before we go to sleep; our musings when we awaken; our reveries throughout the day—these images point to the gods that we love.

But therein lies a bitter irony: We were made for "steadfast love and faithfulness" and no matter how much we love our gods they cannot love us back (Psalm 115:1).

David Roper

5.18.18

Prattle

"Think about what I am saying, for the Lord will give you understanding in all things" (2Timothy 2:7)

What is it with those folks who talk all the time, who prate on but have nothing meaningful or memorable to say. It seems to me that they have no idea what they think until they hear themselves saying it, which, it occurs to me, is the answer to my own question: they don't think. 

The secret to understanding the issues of life is a rich interior life, cultivating a silence in which we work out the issues of life in our own minds and resolve them there before we talk about them.  

And especially should we think about the things that Jesus had to say, for in Him "are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge" (Colossians 2:3).

David Roper

5.17.18

A Wandering One

They felt good eyes upon them
and shrank within—undone;
good parents had good children
and they—a wandering one.

—Ruth Bell Graham

Manoah prayed: “Teach us how to bring up the boy who is to be born” (Judges 13:8). This is the earnest and often anxious prayer of every good parent.

“The boy” was Samson, Israel’s prankish Hercules, who “pillowed his great head upon the lap of sin” and squandered his God–given strength away. One wonders how often Manoah and his wife awakened in the dark, sleepless hours of the night and asked themselves, “Where did we go wrong?”

When our children make bad choices—when they abuse alcohol, do drugs, get pregnant, drop out of school, turn their backs on God and their family, we ask ourselves the same question. We blame ourselves and see our children as the tragic victims of our ineptitude.

There is, however, no absolute correlation between the way people parent and the way their children turn out. Good parenting makes a difference, but it does not guaranteethat the product will be good.

We’re all are acquainted with families where neglect, violence and substance abuse are the norm, yet the children turn out remarkably well. They have good friends; they do well in school; they hold good jobs; they end up in stable marriages and handle their parental responsibilities with wisdom and love.

On the other hand there are families where the parents are warm, nurturing, kind, firm, wise and giving and yet there’s at least one prodigal in the family and sometimes more than one.

It’s certainly better to be one kind of parent than the other, but the fact remains that despite our best efforts our children sometimes go wrong.

But, you say, what of the proverb: “Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it” (Proverbs 22:6)? It sounds like a guarantee.

Not exactly. Proverbs are not promises, but premises—general rules or axioms­—statements of broad truths much like the saying: “As the twig is bent so the tree is inclined.” A proverb sets forth a truth applicable in most cases, but not necessarilyso. There are exceptions to the rule.

The reason there are exceptions is that children are not mindless matter that can be shaped at will, but autonomous individuals who may, with the best of parenting, choose to go their own way. Even God, the perfect parent, has had trouble with his children—Adam and Eve to name two, and me, to name one more.

We cannot produce good children and if we believe that by the simple application of a few techniques and rules we can secure good behavior we may be in for bitter disillusionment and heartache. No one can determine nor can they predict what their offspring will do. (It was Joaquin Andujar, poet and pitcher for the St. Louis Cardinals, who said you can sum up baseball in one word: “You never know.” His word count was off, but he captured the essence of life as well as baseball.)

Given that uncertainty the question is not “How can I produce good children?” but rather, “How can I be a good parent?” The two questions appear to be the same, but they’re not. The first has to do with the product, over which we have no control, the second with process, over which we do, by God’s grace, have some measure of control.

If our focus is on process, then the questions are about me: “How can I deal with my impatience, temper and rage, my selfishness, my resentment, my stubbornness, my defensiveness, my pride, my laziness, my unwillingness to listen? How can I deal with my addictions? How can I strengthen my marriage? How can I develop my parenting skills? How can I build bridges of grace, forgiveness and acceptance that will make it possible for my prodigal to come home. These are the matters that must occupy me, and then I must leave the outcome to God.

Ruth Bell Graham has written again,

Lord, I will straighten all I can and You
take over what we mothers cannot do.

DHR