It’s about Time

High notions of oneself are annihilated
by a glance in the mirror.

—Nobel Poet, Czeslaw Milosz                                                           

A Botox cosmetic ad appears on our television screen every once in a while that features a stunningly beautiful young model who smiles at her audience and murmurs, “It’s about time.” Exactly! 

Time is the enemy. We invest in vitamin supplements, serums, tightening concentrates, firming creams, cellulite removers—a plethora of pills and potions—in an effort to stave off the effects of free-radical damage and try to iive, or at least look alive as long as possible. We battle every age spot, blemish, and bulge, but nothing works very well, or very long. The hours "ill our brow with lines and wrinkles," Shakespeare lamented. Time overwhelms us. We look our age and it’s not a pretty sight to see. 

Which is exactly the point: time takes away whatever measure of “good looks” we enjoy.  Jeremy Taylor, writing in the seventeenth century, put his finger on the issue. “First, age takes those parts that serve for ornamention.” Thus, “every day calls for a reparation of that portion which death fed on all night.” Each morning we have to repair the damage that was done the night before. As an old friend of mine says: “A little powder, a little paint, makes a girl seem what she ain’t.” 

And don’t think for a minute that men are immune to this compulsion. We too are appalled by what we see in the mirror, and each morning must give ourselves to restoration. But no matter what, the trend is down. It’s about time.

Those who have decided to follow Jesus, however, are not about time. The God of all grace has called us to eternal glory! (1 Peter 5:10). In the end, our bodies will be rescued from the tyranny of change and decay, and we will share in the glory that belongs to us as the children of God! When Christ is revealed, we will be revealed in everlasting splendor (Colossians 3:4).  If we could but see ourselves today as we shall be then, we would be left speechless in awe and wonder. (I must add, however, that then, we’ll not be self-conscious at all, but consumed with admiration for the beauty that we see in others.) 

In the meantime, though the outward person is perishing, we can invest in inward loveliness. The more we center on inner beauty, the less preoccupied we’ll be with that external glory that is inexorably fading away.  

Here’s the thing: What I hold in my mind will, in time, show up in my face, for as the old Scot George MacDonald put it, the face is “the surface of the mind.” If I cling to bitterness and resentment, if I tenaciously hold a grudge, if I fail to forgive, my countenance will begin to reflect those angry moods. My mother used to tell me that a mad look might someday freeze on my face. She was wiser than she knew.   

But in the same way, a generous and charitable heart, one filled with grace and forgiveness, will find its way to the surface—for goodness cannot be hidden—and show itself in kind eyes and a face that is gentle and wise.

So my task is not to try to fix my face and make it good (that would be hypocrisy), but by God’s grace and with His help set about killing the ugly things that come out of my heart—“so ugly that they make the very face over them ugly also” (MacDonald). No one but God can drive my self-centeredness away. So I must ask Him by His power to fulfill every desire I have for goodness. 

I have a friend, a Catholic priest, who served as Mother Teresa’s translator when she was here in the United States to address the United Nations. I was in his study one day and spied a picture of the two of them standing together on the streets of New York. I marveled again at her ancient, wrinkled, leathered, lined face, utterly unadorned. Wisdom had softened her face; character had drawn its lines. Gazing at those marks of courage and kindness, I thought: Is there anyone more homely—or more beautiful?

Hers was the beauty of holiness. May it be ours as well. 

David Roper

From The Idaho Statesman, 

Religion Column, 9.30.18

”An enemy has pursued my soul.”

For the enemy has pursued my soul;

he has crushed my life to the ground. —Psalm 143:3

Major General George Picket is best remembered for "Pickett's Charge," his disastrous assault on Union positions on Cemetery Ridge at Gettysburg. Years later, when asked why his charge failed Pickett drawled, "Well, I always thought the Yankees had something to do with it."

I must remember that thought when I fall. Satan and his minions had something to do with it. ”An enemy has pursued my soul. He has crushed me to the ground.” 

It comforts me to remember that any loss is but one loss in a battle that has already been won. God will never give up on me until He has destroyed “all the adversaries of my soul” (Psalm 143:12).

It's good to know that I'm worth fighting for. 

The devil, the world and God all wish to enter me,

Of what great lineage my old heart must be. —Angelus Silesius

David

10.1.18

Lowly Worm

"For thus says the One who is high and lifted up, who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy: ‘I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with him who is of a contrite and lowly spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly, and to revive the heart of the contrite’" (Isaiah 57:15).

You may remember Lowly Worm, the fictional character that graced the pages of Richard Scarry's children's books. Lowly was an earthworm.  

Sometimes I feel like Lowly. 

Especially after some ugly display of the flesh.

God allows us to humiliate ourselves from time to time, not to shame us but to remind us that we are "dust and ashes, and full of sin." “(Failure) cures our illusions about ourselves and teaches us to depend on God. We learn, on the one hand, that we cannot trust ourselves even in our best moments...” (C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity). 

We play the fool, humiliate and shame ourselves. Our well–earned humiliation, however, can be the beginning of our healing if it leads us to humility and contrition, for this is the key that opens God’s heart. He himself has said, “This is the person to whom I look, he that is humble and contrite in spirit, and who trembles at my word” (Isaiah 66:2). God resists the proud, but he cannot resist the humble. Though fallen, they fall into his welcoming arms. 

Julian of Norwich has written, “When you are distressed, then, by your failures, do not run from the Lord—as if any of us could hide from Him! Instead, run to Him quickly...and say, ‘I have corrupted myself and made myself filthy, and I hate it because now I’m not like you. I cannot be clean again—cannot be free from this corruption—unless you come and lift me and help me.’ And He always comes…." (I Promise You a Crown).

"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me."

David Roper

9.29.18

A Road Not Traveled

“And I will walk the blind (cause them to walk) in a way they do not know; I will lead them in paths they do not known. I will turn the darkness before them into light, the rugged places into level ground. These are things I do; I will never forsake them” (Isaiah 42:16).

Folks ask me if I have a five-year plan. How can I plan five years “down the road” on a road I’ve never traveled?

I think back to the 60's when I was a minister to students at Stanford University, the home of some of the brightest people on earth. I was a physical education major in college and had a lot of fun, but left no record as a scholar. I was new at the game, had no experience at this level. What was I to do? 

Most days I just wandered around the campus, a blind man groping in the darkness, asking God to show me what to do. One day a student, "out of the blue" asked me to lead a Bible study in his fraternity. It was a beginning. 

God doesn't doesn't stand at a juncture and point the way: He’s a guide, not a signpost. He walks with us, leading us down paths we never envisioned. All we have to do is follow. 

The path won’t be easy; there’ll be “rugged places" along the way. But God has promised that He’ll never leave us nor will he ever forsake us. He’ll be with us all the way. 

Paul said that God is "able to do more than we can imagine” (Ephesians 3:20). We can scheme and imagine, but his wisdom and power transcend our plans. We must then hold our plans loosely and see what God has up His sleeve.

David 

9.24.

The Man Who Lived Too Long

There is no armor against fate, 

Death lays his icy hand on kings.

—Mames Shirley

"In those days King became sick and was at the point of death. And Isaiah the prophet the son of Amoz came to him, and said to him, 'Thus says the LORD: 'Set your house in order, for you shall die, you shall not recover.' Then Hezekiah turned his face to the wall and prayed to the LORD, and said, 'Please, O LORD, remember how I have walked before you in faithfulness and with a whole heart, and have done what is good in your sight.' And Hezekiah wept bitterly" (Isaiah 38:1–3).

Though only 39 years old the jig was up; It was time for Hezekiah to shuffle off this mortal coil.

But Hezekiah, unwilling to accept God's will, spent his days grieving and "shuffling" (Hebrew: “slow-walking”) around the palace in a deep depression (38:10-20). Whereupon, Isaiah, having encouraged the court physicians to do their best (38:21), prayed for Hezekiah's healing. And, though the explanation for God's mercy eludes me, Hezekiah was given fifteen additional years which he spent in self-indulgence and personal aggrandizement, fathering Manasseh, Judah's most villainous king (2Kings 21:1-18), and bragging about his wealth to others, an irresponsible and prideful act that led to the Babylonian Captivity 120 years later (2 Kings 20:12-19; Isaiah 39).

It occurred to me this morning that I, like Hezekiah, have been given fifteen bonus years (my allotted threescore and ten plus fifteen). Perhaps you've been given additional years of life as well. They are a gift of love, through which we can serve God and others. Let’s not squander them on ourselves. 

David Roper

A Designed Deficiency

“God plays a game with the soul called ”the loser wins“; a game in which the one who holds the poorest cards does best. The Pharisee’s consciousness that he had such an excellent hand really prevented him from taking a single trick.”—Evelyn Underhill

"You collected the waters of the lower pool, and you counted the houses of Jerusalem, and you broke down the houses to fortify the wall. You made a reservoir between the two walls for the water of the old pool. But you did not look to him who did it, or see him who planned it long ago” (Isaiah 22:8b-11).

There’s a natural spring that rises on the east side of the city of Jerusalem. In ancient times it was the city’s only water supply and was located outside the walls of the city and thus was the point of Jerusalem’s greatest vulnerability. The exposed spring meant that the city, otherwise impregnable, could be forced to capitulate by the simple expedient of diverting or damming the spring. 

[At an early stage of Jerusalem's history the Canaanites linked the spring to a vertical shaft that rose inside the walls It was through this tunnel that one of David's mighty men, exploiting this weakness in the Canaanite defense system, gained access to the city (2 Samuel 5:6–8).] 

Much later, King Hezekiah addressed this weakness by driving a tunnel through 1750’ feet of solid rock from the spring into the city where it flowed into the “Lower Pool" (2 Kings 20:20; 2Chronicles 32:2–4). Additionally, he strengthened the defense system around the “old pool” by building another wall that enclosed it. Jerusalem was safe and secure.

But in all of this, Hezekiah "did not look to him who did it, or see him who planned it long ago.”  Did what? Planned what?  The weakness in the defense system of the city. 

God Himself “molded” the city of Jerusalem in such a way that its water supply was unprotected. The spring outside the wall was a constant reminder that the inhabitants of the city must depend solely on God for their salvation. (If you want to know what happened when Jerusalem, on this occasion, withstood a siege, read 2Kings 18:17-19:37.)

Has it ever occurred to you that your deficiencies were planned long ago for your good, that God made you as you are with your physical, emotional or intellectual limitations so that you could become a man or woman of great faith? Indeed, the apostle Paul said that he "gloried" in his limitations, because it was through weakness that the beauty and power of Jesus was manifest in him (2 Corinthians 12:9,10).

We should then regard each limitation as a gift that can make us more useful in terms of our particular service to Jesus. We can never be too weak for him to use—though, we can be too strong. “Not to the swift, the race: Not to the strong, the fight.”  It is in fear and trembling that we are made strong.

David Roper

"So" and "So"

So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary,

beholding your power and glory...

So may I bless you as long as I live... (Psalm 63:2,4).

A little adverb. A pint-sized word: “so."

David seems to be comparing two sets of circumstances: (1) when he was in the felt presence of God in the tabernacle, and (2) when he was in "a dry and thirsty land," an emotional desert.

So (or as) I long for God when my feelings run high, when I sense his presence and his love for me...

So may I will trust him "when my heart is as cold as a tile bathroom floor at 2:00 in the morning" (as my friend Ray Stedman once said) 

It's a request, a prayer, not  something I can do on my  own. 

David Roper