"All The World's a Stage..."

"Each one should remain in the condition in which he was called. Were you a slave when called? Do not be concerned about it. (But if you can gain your freedom, avail yourself of the opportunity.)" (1 Corinthians 7:20,21).

The Stoic philosopher, Epictetus, himself a slave, wrote, “Remember that you are an actor in a play, playing a character according to the will of the playwright—if a short play, then it’s short; if long, long. If he wishes you to play the beggar, play even that role well, just as you would if it were a cripple, a great leader, or an everyday person. For this is your duty, to perform well the character assigned you. That selection belongs to another" (Enchiridion, 17). 

Some of us are born into privilege—a gift to be delighted in, but never presumed upon. Others are born into poverty. Some are given the opportunities we long for; others are denied them. Some are born beautiful or buff; others fall out of the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down. Some of us are born red, or yellow, or black, or brown; others are born white. "That selection belongs to Another.”

Both the Stoic Epictetus and the Apostle Paul remind us that whatever we're given by the "playwright," wherever we fall on the ethnic, intellectual, social, and physical scale, our task is to accept that part by God's grace, and make the most of it, manifesting his beauty in our place.

Is there room for mobility and change? Of course there is! History is replete with stories of men and women who were bit players and turned their small part into starting roles. Some have done so with great courage despite great opposition. Certainly, as Paul insists, we should avail ourselves of every opportunity that’s given to us. But this begins with acceptance and wisdom—and a desire to make God known through what has been given. 

And in the end, when we stand before our Lord, the only thing that will matter is not the role we have played here on earth, but the kind of person we have become.

David Roper

11.8.20

Go Your Way

“But you, go your way till the end; for you shall rest, and will rise to your inheritance at the end of the days" (Daniel 12:13).

The Book of Daniel ends with a blizzard of end-time events and symbolic dates that even Daniel didn’t understand (12:8), and, and in my opinion, no one else has satisfactorily deciphered. Daniel stands where we stand, confused and conflicted by the bedlam of our days. What are we to do?

The angel's answer is simplicity itself: "Go your way to the end and then you shall rest."

Go your way; do the work God has given you to do. Leave the execution of justice to God and his infinite wisdom. Trust him to set everything and everyone right in the end. 

And "then, you shall rise to gain your inheritance at the end of the days." 

This is God's pledge and our solid hope, the answer to all we most desire but may have missed out on here on earth. Those who are lonely will find eternal companionship and love; those who have struggled long win sin and failure will be given the goodness of Christ; those who have lived in perpetual conflict will find order and peace; those who have been wearied by life's troubles will find rest. This is our sure inheritance at the end of our days: We shall "shine like the stars forever more" (12:2).

When once our heavenly guided soul shall clime,   

Then all this Earthy grossness quit,  

Attired with Stars, we shall for ever sit,   

Triumphing over Death and Chance and Time.—John Milton

David Roper

11.10.20

The Art of Acceptance

 

Surely I have calmed and quieted my soul,

Like a weaned child with his mother;

Like a weaned child is my soul within me.—Psalm 131:2

 

The election is over, give or take a few votes. It’s been a bitter, disruptive process that consumed our time and energy for more than a year. We should be glad that it’s over. 

 

Perhaps your man lost and the other man won. “Let not your heart be troubled.” God knew the final count all along. And truth be known, he was integral in some inexplicable way in its outcome. We can trust his wisdom and judgment. 

 

Our response is not mere resignation, but joyful anticipation, knowing that God is able to turn an event that seems to be irrevocably bad into eternal good, a result that J.R.R. Tolkien called a “eucatastrophe,” a comic (happy) ending to a tragic story that pierces us with joy. 

 

We can have this happy and hopeful outlook only because we know that “all things work together for good” (Romans 8:28). We may not see the goodness in every event, but we can know that God will accomplish his purposes in the end and his intentions are always and only good. (We live by faith and not by sight.)

 

This is a call for simplicity and humility. It evokes memories of the day that Jesus placed a little child on his lap and asked, ‘Who is greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” (Matthew 18:1-4).

 

David Roper

11.7.20

Keeping the Faith

I kept the faith, even when I said,

“I’m greatly discouraged.”—Psalms 116:10

 

These are perilous times. We’re troubled by the political chaos all around us, the ever-encroaching pandemic and the pandemonium that reigns in our cities. Anxiety and depression are normal reactions to the unsettling nature of our days.

 

To be discouraged and to voice our despair—even in wild tones of panic—does not mean that our faith has failed. (“We should never be discouraged” is a hymn-line that Carolyn excised from her hymn book and replaced with her own rendition:"We can always be encouraged.") Discouragement and dismay are not failures of faith, but an invitation to turn to our LORD and cling steadfastly to him.

 

The psalmist said that his mind was filled with discouragement and dread, yet he "kept the faith” (116:10). Faith is not cold, unfeeling stoicism, but clinging to God in our fear (116:2,4,13,17). "I will continue to call on Him," he vowed.

 

Paul quotes the Septuagint's version of the psalmist's words (2 Corinthians 4:13), agreeing that faith and fretfulness are often found together. Paul despaired of life itself, yet he clung to his belief in God's help in time of need. As pain cries out for God's healing, so fear cries out for God's help. 

 

This, and not the stiff upper lip, is what the psalmist called “keeping the faith.”

 

David Roper

11.6.20

Postcript

 I took a spectacular fall last week—I cratered, as snowboarders say—in consequence of which I began a three-day stay in the hospital for observation. It’s impossible to sleep in hospitals, as you know, and I had a lot of time at night to think about things. It occurred to me that I’m mortal after all. God has been gracious and given me several bonus years beyond our alloted three score and ten (I'm 87), but, as Yogi Berra said, “Most folks my age are dead these days.” That being true, one item on my agenda one night was to write an epitaph for my grave. I came up with what follows…

POSTSCRIPT

 

“Though John performed no mighty works,

 all that he said about this man (Jesus) was true.”

 

—John 10:41

 

John the Baptist had been dead for two years and the memory of his ministry was fading away. That’s the way it is, you know, when you’re eclipsed by a more illustrious successor. 

 

But as the crowds gathered around Jesus near the spot where John was teaching, they remembered the Baptist’s words and remarked: “All that John said about this man was true.”

 

Most of us, like John, are not miracle workers. We live fairly unremarkable lives. But we can tell folks about Jesus—what we’ve seen and heard of him. If we do, we will have served one of life’s purposes and after we’re dead and gone our words may come to someone’s mind and become the means by which that person moves closer to the Savior. Like seed buried in the ground, words can lie dormant for years and then spring up to eternal life. 

 

And so, as I thought about John’s legacy that night I thought of my own. What an epitaph for one’s life! “He did no mighty works, but everything he said about Jesus was true.” It’s the sentiment I want on my stone.

 

David Roper

11.1.20

How Then Shall We Pray?

“Therefore I exhort first of all that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks be made for all men, for kings and all who are in authority, that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and reverence. For this is good and acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, who desires all men to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth. For there is one God and one Mediator between God and men, the Man Christ Jesus, who gave Himself a ransom for us all” (1 Timothy 2:1-6).

 

Election Day is upon us. How shall we pray? 

 

Should we pray that this party or that party will rise to power? Perhaps, but an inspired apostle exhorts us first to pray that the party that rises to power will provide an environment in which we are free to walk and talk the gospel. Why? Because that’s the only truly good news that folks in your family, shop, school, office, or neighborhood will ever see or hear. 

 

And so we pray for peace, not for the sake of peace alone, but to the end that the word of God may spread quickly and be held in honor, for God wants all men and women to be saved and come to “the knowledge of the truth” (1 Timothy 2:4).

 

And what is “the truth”?  This platform? That platform? The truth is far deeper: “There is one God and one Mediator between God and men, the Man Christ Jesus, who gave Himself a ransom for us all” (2:5:6). 

 

David Roper

10.30.20

The Woozle Effect

To pay Jesus Christ his proper rent; 

To spread his word is my intent

 

—Chaucer

The Church follows the world like Piglet following Pooh around the larch tree tracking Woozles—but we’re always a few steps behind.

We take up the world’s causes belatedly, some months or years after it brings them to our attention, and we make them our chief talking points. Next year, or the year after, there will be another set of wrongs to be righted and we will uncritically embrace them as well, often overlooking the underlying, unbiblical premises that inform them. Why do we, who claim to follow Jesus, allow the world to set our agenda?

In C.S. Lewis’ Screwtape Proposes a Toast, the demon Screwtape advises his demonic nephew to make men “treat Christianity as a means,” but allow them to go no further. Indeed, the world will use us as a means to its ends, but it will never adopt our end: to bring men and women, boys and girls into contact with the One who loves them beyond measure and gave his life to save them.

 

The world will always try to distract us by drawing our attention to penultimate causes (Woozles), but “What Jesus said” is our ultimate guide.  

 

David Roper

10.22.20