Let Go Of The Rope

The Stoics had an answer to personal conflict: “Let go of the rope,” They were thinking of the ancient game we call “Tug of War,” a test of strength in which we try to pull people over to our side.    Some conversations are like that—tests of the strength of our wills. But the moment one player relinquishes power—lets go of the rope—it’s game over!   Paul writes, "When insulted, we return a blessing; when persecuted, we endure it patiently, when insulted, we answer softly" (1Corinthians 4:12,13).     So… the next time you find yourself in a verbal tug of war, and tempers start to flare, stop tugging and let the rope slip through your fingers: Lapse into silence. Agree with your brother, if you can. Reply to an insult with a kind word. Return a soft answer. Give good for evil. (Or, like Dostoyevsky’s Alyosha, lean forward and surprise your brother with a kiss!)   Funny how quickly things change when you just let go of the rope!   David Roper 9.5.20

The Good Spiel

The main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing.” —Joe Aldrich

 

My goodness, we seem to have forgotten what we’re here for...

 

There is a great deal of emphasis in the Church these days on social justice, and certainly as followers of Jesus we must take the side of the downtrodden and disadvantaged, seeking freedom and justice for all that fall within our sphere of influence. 

 

But we must know that injustice resides deep in the human heart, far beyond the reach of human effort. Systems are corrupt because the human beings that institute and inhabit them are corrupt and no amount of systemic deconstruction will ever change that dynamic. Tear down one evil system and evil will simply inhabit another. Nothing can truly change until the human heart is changed through the good news of Jesus’ love. This is our evangel.

 

Jesus’ last words ring in our ears:” Go and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you” (Matthew 28:18-20).

 

“Having gone out,” or “wherever you go,” (the verb is a participle) make disciples, like Johnny Appleseed, who traveled hither and yon, scattering good seed wherever he went, for he never knew when and where he would encounter good soil. This is the mission of those who are truly woke:  Paul writes, “Awake to righteousness, and do not sin; for some do not have the knowledge of God.” Paul adds, “I speak this to your shame” (1 Corinthians 15:34). 

 

Indeed, to my shame, for what is left for those who gain the world through my efforts, but lose the Savior: A lonely, loveless, meaningless existence forever. 

 

So what can I, a mostly irrelevant old timer, do in the face of calls for radical social action? I can prayerfully stand against injustice in my own heart and wherever I find it nearby, but I must also share the story of Jesus’ love. He came into the world in order to save sinners (1Timothy 1:15). This must be “the main thing” for me. 

 

And so I pray, as Dallas Willard prayed: “May I be a simple, humble, and thoughtful witness, as I listen to others and help them come to faith in the One who has given us life forever.” Amen. 

 

David Roper

9.3.20

 

 

 

 

Goodness Personified

"May the Lord make you increase and abound in love for one another and for all...so that he may establish your hearts blameless in holiness before our God and Father…” (1Thessalonians 3:12,13).

 

Grow in love so that you may become holy. How can that be? Well, it's because love “is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (1Corinthians 13:4-7). This is holiness personified. 

 

Aim at holiness and you'll become a fusty, finger-wagging prude, holy in the worst sort of way. Aim at love and by God’s grace and in due time you will know the beauty of authentic holiness. 

 

David Roper

8.2.20

The Weak and the Strong

“We who are strong have an obligation to bear with the failings of the weak, and not to please ourselves” (Romans 15:1). 

 

17th century English Puritan, Richard Dent (not to be confused with former Chicago Bears defensive end, Richard Dent), wrote a little book entitled A Poor Man’s Pathway to Heaven. In it he describes a conversation between Theologus (Theologian), and his friend Philagathus (Lover of Good).

 

Theologos: Some of God’s dear children, in whom no doubt the inward work is truly and soundly wrought, yet are so troubled and encumbered with a crabbed and crooked nature, and so clogged with some master sin ; as some with anger, some with pride, some with covetousness, some with lusts, some one way, some another; all which breaking out in them, do so blemish them and their profession that they cannot so shine forth unto men as otherwise no doubt they would; and this is their wound, their grief, and their heart smart, and that which costeth them many a tear, and many a prayer: and yet can they not get the full victory over them, but still they are left in them, as the prickin the flesh, to humble them.

 

Philagathus: Yet love should cover a multitude of such infirmities in God’s children.

 

Theologos. It should do so indeed: but there is great want of love, even in the best; and the worst sort espying these infirmities, run upon them with open mouth and take upon them to condemn them utterly, and to judge their hearts, saying they be hypocrites, dissemblers, and there is none worse than they (i.e.. those who would thus judge a struggling brother.)

 

It’s good to remember that some of God’s children, for whatever reason, may be out of step with us—not as far along as we are consider ourselves to be. We should pray that we’ll not “run upon them with open mouths,” but that our love for them, like God’s, will cover a multitude of such infirmities."

 

David Roper

8.27.20

 

 

 

The Things That Matter

“It is essential for you to remember that the attention you give to any action should be in due proportion to its worth…” —Marcus Aurelius

In 1997, psychotherapist Richard Carlson published a book entitled, Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff . . . and It’s All Small Stuff. It was a pretty good read, despite the fact that the title is untrue—at least in part. While it is indeed unwise to sweat the small stuff, it’s not all small stuff. Some things “matter”—a perspective Paul urges us to maintain (Philippians 1:10). 

 

Not the least of these things is love—love for God and our neighbor. This is the Great Commandment, with the inference that love is not small stuff at all.

 

One thing we can do in this pandemic is learn to love one another for love grows best when it’s tested. Tensions rise and tempers flare as the days drag by. People doing ordinary, everyday things tend to rub us the wrong way. Family members and friends act and react in strange and foreign ways. It’s an ideal time to learn that love doesn’t alter when it alteration finds.

 

If you want to know what love looks like in a pandemic read 1 Corinthians 13:4-7. If you want to “do” love, ask God for help because he’s where all the love in the world comes from.

 

Love is the greatest of all “the things that matter,” and the thing we’re going to be doing forever. We might as well get started right away.

.

David Roper

8.22.20

 “Stonie Hearts Will Bleed”

But with you there is forgiveness, that you may be feared. —Psalm 130:4 

 

The poet speaks out of a deep depression in which self-help was of no help at all. His depression was not caused by persecution, sickness, or homesickness, as it was on so many other occasions, but by guilt—that gut-wrenching sensation that we have gone wrong. 

 

But “with God there is forgiveness,” a release from the anxiety and guilt that produces “fear”—not servile fear, but the fear of wronging the God who loves us and so freely and quickly forgives us. It is the Lord himself for whom the writer longs: “I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope” (Psalm 130:5)—“his word,” that word of assurance that all is well: “Your sins are forgiven… Go in peace” (Luke 7:48).

 

Forgiveness is immediate, but in human frailty our assurance of that forgiveness may be delayed. The poet waits as a night watchman waits for the morning, a hope that will not disappoint him, for though the darkness may seem endless, day-break is at hand.

 

Once again the experience of the one (the poet) can become the experience of the many: 

 

O Israel, hope in the Lord!

For with the Lord there is steadfast love,

and with him is plentiful redemption.

And he will redeem Israel

from all his iniquities (130:7).

 

It is not God’s wrath, but his love that warms and wins our hearts. “It is the goodness of God” that draws us to repentance (Romans 2:4).

 

Though I fail, I weep:

Though I halt in place,

Yet I creep

To the throne of grace.

 

Then let wrath remove;

Love will do the deed:

For with love

Stonie hearts will bleed. —George Herbert

 

David Roper

8.19.20

What Can the Righteous Do?

Behold, the wicked bend the bow;

they have fitted their arrow to the string

to shoot in the dark at the upright in heart; 

If the foundations are destroyed,

what can the righteous do?” (Psalm 11:2,3)

 

Old folks have been saying it for years, but, by golly, this time it seems to be true: The world is indeed going to hell in a hand basket.  What on earth can we do?

 

David’s friends offered the counsel of despair: "Flee like a bird to your mountain...” (11:1), an idea that has always appealed to me. But David gave a better reply: "As for me, I will take refuge in the Lord" (11:1). 

 

Some happy souls find it easy to take refuge in the Lord. Others struggle with a faith that flickers dimly, or not all. Some are so damaged by violence and abuse they find it hard to trust anyone, even the God who loves them beyond measure. 

 

But all of us, no matter how broken, can take our hearts to Jesus and ask him to help us believe. “I believe; help my unbelief,” is the sceptic’s prayer  (Mark 9:24). 

 

Paul writes, “For by grace are you saved through faith, and that (faith) not of ourselves. It (faith) is a gift of God...” (Ephesians 2:8.9). Faith isn’t something we can conjure into being. It’s a gift we have to ask for again and again.

 

Like every other virtue, faith falls from above. 

 

David Roper

8.15.20