The Terrible Speed of Mercy

Here lies Martin Elginbrod

Have mercy on my soul, Lord God

As I would do were I Lord God

And Thou were Martin Elginbrod

—Epitaph

"The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost. But I have received mercy..." (1Timothy 1:15,16a).

Years ago, I read a story about a fractious congregational meeting in which a young man rose to his feet and shouted “I demand my rights!" An elderly gentleman seated in the pew behind him, tugged on his shirt tail and muttered, “Sit down, son. If you had your rights you'd be in hell.“

Exactly. If God gave me what I rightfully deserve I would be in one of the nine circles of Dante's Inferno. "But I have received mercy."

That thought clears my head when I think that I'm entitled to the good life, or at least one better than the one I have. No, my salvation and every other good thing that comes my way is mine not because I deserve it, but because "I have received mercy." 

How then can I be angry at friends who disappoint me when it's by God's mercy that I have any friends at all? 

How can I be embittered by those who misrepresent me when it's by God's mercy that I have a reputation to uphold? 

How can I envy old folks that enjoy better health than I when it's solely by God's mercy that I enjoy the measure of health that I have?

No, if I got what I deserved I'd be in pure hell. But, thank God, through the Cross, "I have received mercy.

As I wrote this morning I thought of Flannery O’Connor’s would-be hellfire and damnation prophet, Francis Marion Tarwater, who received his long-awaited commission from a burning bush: “Go warn the children of God of the terrible speed of God's mercy.” 

As Miss O’Connor herself might say, “May God strike us down that-away.”

David Roper

2.19.19

How Come?

"And his disciples asked him, ‘Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?’ Jesus answered, ‘It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him’" (John 9:2,3).

Most of us want to assign a cause to our troubles. Karma? Kismet? Chaos? Who or what has saddled us with affliction?  

Jesus' disciples, akin to us and caught up in their own logical, cause-effect world wanted a reason for this man’s unfortunate lot in life: “Who sinned?” It had to be his fault. Or his parents’. 

“God has something up his sleeve!” That’s the only explanation Jesus gave his disciples and all we need to know.

Perhaps God is doing something in us, or through us through affliction. Perhaps we'll be delivered from our troubles to the greater glory of God. Perhaps Satan and his minions are watching and waiting for us to fold. Perhaps we're simply the victims of a fallen, broken world. Who knows? 

God does: There’s a reason for everything that comes our way. But we cannot know God’s rational. Ours is not the know the reason why. Ours is to trust and rest in His infinite wisdom and love. We’ll know all the reasons by and by. 

In acceptance lieth peace...

O my heart be still;

Let thy restless worries cease

And accept His will.

Though this test be not thy choice,

It is His—therefore rejoice. 

David Roper

3.18.19

Things Unstained

“Those who made them (the rings) did not desire strength or dominion or hoarded wealth, but understanding, making and healing to preserve things unstained.” —J. R. R. Tolkien

“I want to be a pastor when I grow up," our five-year-old son declared one day. "Why would you want to be that?” I asked. “Well,” he replied "I want to stand in front of lots of people and talk and talk and ramble." I wondered how he came up with that notion until I remembered that I was his pastor. 

All sorts of motives are at play when we're doing church. I must say it's heady stuff to stand before a crowd and talk and talk and ramble. There's a buzz that comes from tripping the light fantastic and turning the exactly right phrase. 

And, then there are the power trips we can take because we're “sitting in the seat of Moses." There's an ersatz authority that can rest upon us when we're “revved up” and garbed up and we presume to take on that role. 

Of course, we would never hoard wealth, but it's possible to goof off and draw a pretty good salary, or sponge off the well-to-do in our congregations and gather up the amenities they offer.

But such motives betray us. They become sordid and rotten and ruin us in the end. "Do not work for the food that spoils..." Jesus said (John 6:27). Some folks did, "and it bred worms and stank..." (Exodus 16:19,20).

Motives are tricky things and I doubt that I will ever understand my own, which is why I should ask God often to search my heart and try my thoughts and see “if there be any wicked way in me” (Psalm 139:24). In the interim I can rest assured that most of my motives are rotten. 

Years ago my friend and pastor, Ray Stedman, told me that he determined very early in his ministry that he would never do anything for power, prestige, or money. I can't say that wrong-headed motives have never been determinative for me, but I hope and pray that someday "understanding, making and healing" will  transcend them.

David Roper

3.13.19

The Old is Good

"No one, after drinking old wine immediately wishes for new; for he says, ‘The old is good'" (Luke 5:37-39). 

That proverb is especially relevant for older congregations for old folks are rarely avant-garde. They find security in the past and cling tenaciously to old forms of doing church, for they say, "The old is good." (My grandchildren tell me I'm reasonably "now," but I still have a hard time enjoying some contemporary praise choruses. I take to the old songs better.)

Old folks are slow to change so please be patient. Prayer, love, teaching and time is the cure.

David Roper

3.8.19

The Man Who Was the King

"And Pilate asked him, 'You are the King of the Jews?' And (Jesus) answered him, 'You have said so'” (Luke 23:3).

Pilate's reaction to Jesus is repeated in all four gospels and identically worded. It must be an important consideration. 

Jesus' answer suggests reluctant assent: "Well, yes I am a king, but I wouldn't put it quite like that." His understanding differed from Pilate's for Jesus' kingdom was not of this world, but indeed, he was Israel's long-awaited king.

Pilate had not met Jesus as far as we know, but since the Jews described him as an insurrectionist and a pretender to the throne he must have thought that Jesus would be a Rambo-like figure, an irrepressible firebrand. (Think: Robespierre, Trotsky, Che Guevara, or Mao Zedong.) 

But one glance at Jesus dispelled that notion: Here before him stood a man in utter weakness. Bruised and bloodied from beatings and abuse, draped in a ridiculous colored cloak that made him look like a clown. 

That's what forced Pilate's incredulous question: "You? You are the King of the Jews? You gotta be kidding." (All four Gospels place emphasis on the pronoun "you.")

Here’s what I see: The Kingdom of God did not come then, nor does it continue now by power politics and human prowess, but in weakness and foolishness.

“For the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men. For…God has chosen what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God has chosen what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God has chosen what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are" (1 Corinthians 1:25-28).

Weakness through illness, aging, or any other cause, is not a curse; it is a blessing. For in the words of Paul’s paradox: It is when we are weak that we are strong (2 Corinthians 12:11).

David Roper

3.6.19

Just for You: Welcome
Mindfulness
3.4.19

It seems that the word “mindfulness” is often on display these days. My friend told me about an article she read which was offering help for anxiety. Not only did it include paying attention to one’s breathing and other ideas, but also paying attention to what is around you at the present moment. Focusing on something you observe right where you are. Evidently this stratagem is used to block out worry over the past or fear of the future. So one morning, not too long ago, I thought I would give it a go.

Very early in the first hours of the day, I came into my study, lit a small vanilla candle I enjoy, told Alexa to turn off my reading light, and began to focus on what I observed.

As I looked at my candle, shining bright in the darkness, I thanked God that He is the light of the world, of my world. I thanked Him that He would light my path on the day’s journey and each day all the way Home. I thanked Him that He is the brightness that will shine a welcoming ray as I am in His presence today and on that day when I have the joy of being Home at last.

Next I focused on the cozy afghan tucked around me. When I did so I thanked God for my mother who made that covering for me and who was steadfast in her commitment to care for me, even as she was a single mother. I thanked Him that Mother’s favorite song was Jesus Loves Me and that she took me to church.

I noticed my window that looks east and gathers the morning sun into my room and thanked God for His creative power and the beauty of His creation, trees and birds, snow and sunshine. And I thanked God for my window.
 

I looked around at all my books and thanked God for my “friends” who come to me through their words and often help me to see God in fresh ways. As I saw David’s books, I thanked God for how he has refreshed others—and me—with his words telling of God’s steadfast love and grace.

I heard the soft hum of our heater and thanked God for a home that is warm. How often I overlook such gifts.

Next, as my reading light was turned on, I read these words from Psalm 46:1—God is our refuge and strength, a very PRESENT help in trouble.

Yes, it is good to focus on the present moment. This exercise can keep other thoughts at bay and give me time to catch my breath in tense circumstances.

However, I find it is best for me to go below and beyond what I can see and observe here in my little corner of the world. I can be mindful that beyond and below, underneath and always available, are the everlasting Arms. As I continue to turn to Him as my refuge, He will help me to not succumb to fear, “even though the earth should change and the mountains fall into the sea.”

Of course, there will be jolts and trauma. And these words although true are not magic. God is the One who helps me in whatever stage of quavering I might be. Indeed He is the One on whom I can focus my mind. In verse 10 of Psalm 46 God is the One who enjoins me to “Be still and know that I am God!”

These two realities I want to be mindful of today:
God is our refuge and strength, a very PRESENT help in trouble. “Be still and know that I am God!”

Lord, God thank You that You are present, really present at this moment. Thank You that, amazingly, You want to help me. Please help me to be still in body and heart and to know I have a welcome in You, even when I am shaky. You welcome the least groan or gaze in Your direction. We come in Jesus’ Name to You, our refuge and strength.
With love because of His welcoming love.

Carolyn

In His Book

"The seventy 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... Nevertheless, do not rejoice in this, that the spirits are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven” (Luke 10:17-20).

I spent twelve years ministering to students on a west-coast university campus. I recall days when I saw Satan fall like lightning, and other days when it was I who fell—flat on my face. Some days I wondered what I was doing there.

Luke tells us of a day when Jesus' disciples returned from a evangelistic mission to report great success. Many had been brought into the kingdom, demons had been put to flight and a good time was had by all! The disciples were pumped!

"Indeed," Jesus replied, "I saw Satan bite the dust." But then he issued a strange caveat: "Don't rejoice that demons are subject to you, but rejoice that your names are written in Heaven."  

We take delight in the work that we do, especially when we're successful. But we may despair when our work seems to fail. Neither success nor failure should concern us, however, if we're doing what God has asked us to do. 

What matters is that our names are written in God’s book and will never be expunged. ["Written" is a verb tense that would suggest  permanent ink.] 

So your work isn't going well. The church-growth folks are disappointed; your denominational leaders are dismayed. Don't be discouraged. Keep doing what God has called you to do for as long as you can do it—teaching, loving, listening, praying, growing and showing your progress to all—and leave the results to him. "Outcomes are solely from the Lord," Dallas Willard used to say.

In the meantime know that you're safe and secure in your Father's love. He has your name in his book!

David Roper