Open Wide!

I am the LORD your God,

who brought you up out of the land of Egypt.

Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it. —Psalm 81:10

I read this verse today and thought of mornings long ago when our boys were very small and we had to spoon feed them. (Failing that, though each child tried very hard to get the meal into his mouth, most of it wound up smeared all over his face, in his hair, in his ears, on his tray, on the floor and all over us.) Here, I picture God picking up a spoon and saying, "Here comes the little red train down the little track; Choo. Choo. Choo. Open wide."

If the first two lines of the verse sound familiar it's because they are a direct quote from the preamble to the Ten Commandments: “I am the LORD your God, who brought you up out of Egypt."Thou shalt not; thou shalt not; thou not..." (Exodus 20:2). 

Here in this psalm, however, where we expect to find another set of rules, God makes this offer: “Open your mouth wide and I will fill it."

Israel's history, like mine, is a tale of underachievement, yet God does not call for greater effort. He rather asks us to lay our "doing" down, open our hearts wide and receive what He longs to give us.

Trying to keep a bunch of rules and make ourselves better is a lzero-sum game. I know because I tried it for years. God alone is the source of goodness for God alone is good. We must ask for his righteousness and keep on asking. "Ask and it will be given to you" Jesus said (Matthew 7:7). It's a promise. 

Long, long ago, on the cross, Jesus did away with our wrong-doing. Now He lives to make us good children. If we "open our mouths wide" He will, in good time, fill us with love, joy, peace, patience, and all the other virtues we admire in Jesus and seek for ourselves. He will feed us with the "finest of wheat," and satisfy us with "honey from the rock" (Psalm 81:16). 

Cream of wheat and wild honey. YUM. Open wide!

Weary, working, burdened one,

Wherefore toil you so?

Cease your doing; all was done

Long, long ago.

—James Proctor

David Roper

Why the Caged Bird Sings

No, no, no, no! Come let’s away to prison:

We two alone will sing like birds i’ th’ cage;

When thou dost ask me blessing, I’ll kneel down

And ask of thee forgiveness. So we’ll live

And pray, and sing, and tell old tales, and laugh

At gilded butterflies, and hear poor rogues

Talk of court news; and we’ll talk with them too--

Who loses and who wins; who’s in, who’s out--

And take upon ‘s the mystery of things

As if we were God’s spies; and we’ll wear out,

In a wall’d prison, pacts and sects of great ones,

That ebb and flow by th’ moon.

—Shakespeare, King Lear V.iii.8-19

Cordelia, King Lear’s daughter, was determined to fight the injustice visited upon her father, but Lear had no fear of prison. Though confined by weakness and frailty, his spirit was free. “Let's away to prison,” he says. “We two alone will sing like birds i’ th’ cage.”

Lear is my kind of geezer: Laughing the laughter of pure delight. Chuckling over gilded butterflies and other beautiful things that God has given us out of pure love. Talking of court news—“who wins, who loses, who’s in who’s out.” Keeping up, refusing to become stodgy and isolated. Aware of the “ebb and flow of pacts and sects of poor rogues”—uncontaminated by contempt for them, but rather interceding for them.

Living, praying, singing, telling “old tales”—the ancient truths, the deep things of God. Analyzing, revealing the mystery of things present and things to come, “wearing out” those who have no truth to live by.

Though limited in strength and endurance, confined in space we can be “God’s spies,” subverting a culture that does not know the One who loves us and gave Himself for us. 

We know why the caged bird sings. 

David Roper

3.21.18

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