The Gift of Goodness

Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened. Or what man is there among you who, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will he give him a serpent? If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask Him!" (Matthew 7:7-11). 

Verse eleven would be better translated, "How much more will your Father who is in Heaven give good (goodness) to those who ask Him." ("Things" does not appear in the text).

Here "good" is not ease and affluence, the so-called good life, but a quality of life defined by "goodness." In the parallel saying in Luke (11:13) Jesus promises that our heavenly Father will give the Holy Spirit to those who ask, using "Holy Spirit" by metonymy for "goodness," for God's Spirit is the essence and source of all goodness. "The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, gentleness, goodness..." 

John reports a similar promise in his Gospel: "If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit..." (John 15:7–8). "Ask and it will be given." The promise seems like a carte blanche, “Ask for anything and receive it.” But the  promise is qualified by the purpose: "that (in order that) you may bear much fruit" (the fruit of the Spirit).

So, if we want to be good children we must ask God to make us good. "Keep asking." Keep knocking." "Keep seeking." For as a doting father seeks the best good for his children, "how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good gifts (the gift of goodness) to those who ask Him!" 

David Roper

1.8.19

Taking it Easy

The sacred weeks, with unfelt pace,

    Hath borne us on from grace to grace.

—John Keble

My father and I used to fell trees and buck them with a 6’ two-man crosscut saw. (It now adorns one wall of our son Josh's patio.) Being young and energetic I tried to force the saw into the cut. “Easy does it,”my father would say. “Let the saw do the work.”

I think of Paul's words; "It is God who is working in you…(Philippians 2:13). Easy does it. Let Him do the work.

C. S. Lewis explains the process this way: “Put right out of your head the idea that…Christians are to read what Christ said and try to carry it out—as a man may read what Plato or Marx said and try to carry it out. They (the Gospel writers) mean something much more than that. They mean that a real Person, Christ, here and now, in that very room where you are saying your prayers, is doing things to you…gradually turning you permanently into a different sort of thing; into a new little Christ, a being which, in its own small way, has the same kind of life as God; which shares in His power, joy, knowledge and eternity” (C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (1952; Harper Collins: 2001) 191-192).

Turning us into “a new little Christ,” takes time—actually a lifetime—but God can begin the process today. Sit at the feet of Jesus and His Apostles and take in what they have to say. Say your prayers. "Keep yourself in the love of God" (Jude 20,21), reminding yourself all day long that you are His apple of his eye, resting in the assurance that he is “gradually turning you permanently into a different sort of thing.”

“Shouldn’t we hunger and thirst for righteousness?”you ask. Doesn’t that desire come naturally? Even the worst of us long to be better. An analogy comes to mind—a small child in Toys “R”Us, holding up his hands, reaching for a gift high on a shelf beyond his reach, his eyes glittering with desire. His Father, sensing that desire, retrieves the gift and brings it down to him. 

Indeed God will bring change to us, quietly, invisibly, inexorably. He will "complete" us in due time (Psalm 57:2).

Thou sayest, "Fit me, fashion me for Thee."  

Stretch forth thine empty hands, and be thou still;  

O restless soul, thou dost but hinder Me  

By valiant purpose and by steadfast will.  

Behold the summer flowers beneath the sun,  

In stillness his great glory they behold;  

And sweetly thus his mighty work is done,  

And resting in his gladness they unfold.  

So are the sweetness and the joy divine  

Thine, O beloved, and the work is Mine. 

—Ter Steegen

The work is his; the sweetness and the joy are ours. Easy does it. We shall get there some day.

David Roper

12.29.18

It’s Impossible!

"Thus says the LORD of hosts: 'Old men and old women shall again sit in the streets of Jerusalem, each with staff in hand because of great age. And the streets of the city shall be full of boys and girls playing in its streets.’” 

“Thus says the LORD of hosts: 'If it is marvelous (impossible) in the sight of the remnant of this people in those days, should it also be marvelous (impossible) in my sight,' declares the LORD of hosts?’" (Zechariah. 8:4–6). 

Jerusalem had been reduced to rubble, like the ruined, bombed-out villages of Anbar Province that we see night after night on newscasts, entire cities completely destroyed by air strikes and urban warfare. Many will never be rebuilt and will be abandoned. Jerusalem, in like measure, was ruined beyond repair.

Yet, as Zechariah assured God's people, the city would be built again and restored: old men and women would gather in the parks and squares of the city to kvetsch and kibitz; little children would once again play unmolested in the streets. 

"Impossible," Zechariah's critics said. “No way, never happen."

But we should never allow reason or common sense to tell us what God can or cannot do. He is the God of the impossible, the one who created perfect order (cosmos) out of primal chaos (Jeremiah 32:25). Nothing is too hard for him! (cf. Genesis 11:14; Job 42:2; Matthew 19:26).

He can reclaim a life that has been ruined beyond reclamation. He can find a prodigal that is irretrievably lost. He can soften hearts that have hardened into stone. He can restore a heart that has been broken beyond repair. 

Indeed, "you will see greater things than this." There is nothing that God cannot do 

David Roper

12.25.18

The Sign

Now there were in the same country shepherds living out in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. And behold, an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were greatly afraid. Then the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be to all people. For there is born to you this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. And this will be the sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths, lying in a manger” (Luke 2:8,9).

The angels bypassed Jerusalem, where the scholars and the clergy were ensconced. They passed up Herod’s summer palace, Herodium, his villa near Bethlehem, and appeared instead to shepherds out in the fields, tending their flocks, minding their business, doing what shepherds do.

Few, back then, would have thought that shepherds would care about spiritual things. They were a hard bunch, more like Owyhee County buckeroos than the sanctified shepherds we associate with the story these days. 

But truth be known, we’re all religious. Incurably so, looking for that elusive something or other that haunts our souls. “You don’t know what it is you want,” Mark Twain once said in a reflective mood, “but it almost breaks your heart with longing.” 

The angel’s words were simple and direct: "This day in Bethlehem, a Savior has been born for you. This is how you will know him: You will find a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a feed trough."

And so the shepherds went off to search for the child. They didn’t bother to look in Herod’s summer palace though it was nearby; there were no feed troughs up there. They skirted the resorts, the spas and the lodges of the rich and famous and went looking for a stock yard, or a feed lot, or a cattle pen, or a corral, or one of the small caves into which shepherds drove their flocks at night. 

They found the child near their field—they had no idea how near he was—in a dank and filthy stable, where Joseph and Mary, having been turned away from the inn, found shelter from the cold. 

Who is this child? He is “Christ the LORD; the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and end of history. The one who created the universe and holds it together. The Creator became a creature of time; the one who fills all space was contracted to a span; the Infinite become infinitesimally small. The one whose hands created the universe put himself in our hands, made himself incredibly small, weak and vulnerable—to bring us salvation. 

Salvation! That’s the word that got the shepherd’s attention and should get ours. Here’s a savior for the likes of us. Here’s a God who wanted to save so badly that he got down and dirty. The only God for you and me. 

The shepherds looked until they found him. I hope you’ve found him too. If you’ve not yet found him, I hope you’re looking for him. Wise men and women do. 

If you’re looking for the child, I can tell you where to find him: “You will find a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.”

David Roper

Christmas 2018

An Exceptionally Good Christmas

"I think we're going to have an exceptionally good Christmas."

If I had written these words I would probably have been thinking that our family would all be together for a white Christmas. I would probably imagine that well ahead of time all the cards had been mailed, all the preparations made and everything would be "just so." We would have a brightly lit tree and lovely red and green decorations, filling my heart with good memories. There would be the just-right presents to bring delight and joy to each one. There would be singing and laughing, playing games and a festive meal, with everyone decked out in their Christmas finery and caring for one another.  And I would find a fresh way to present the Christmas story at just the right time, which would be meaningful to all. There would be no worries, no loneliness, no health issues, no one missing from our family circle, either spacially or emotionally. At our house Evie would be singing "Come On Ring Those Bells" to welcome everyone in!

"I think we're going to have an exceptionally good Christmas."

Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote those words to his fiancée while he was isolated in a dark, cruel Germany prison as World War II was raging. He went on to explain:

"The very fact that every outward circumstance precludes our making provision for it will show whether we can be content with what is truly essential. I used to be very fond of thinking up and buying presents, but now that we have nothing to give, the gift God gave us in the birth of Christ will seem all the more glorious, the emptier our hands, the better we understand what Luther meant by his dying words: "We're beggars: it's true." The poorer our quarters, the more clearly we perceive that our hearts should be Christ's home on earth." —Letter to fiancée Maria von Wedemeyer, December 1, 1943

Because of God's priceless gift of His Son, may each of us have an exceptionally good Christmas, content with what is truly essential. Content whatever our Christmas looks like this year.

Blessings,

Carolyn Roper

Christmas Eve

The selection from Bonhoeffer comes from the work, God Is in the Manger: Reflections on Advent and Christmas; compiled by Jana Riess.

The Christmas Mouse

by Carolyn12.22.18

My friend Ellen had been out of town for a week when she told me that her living room was filled with boxes of Christmas décor waiting to be placed in festive array to make her home welcoming and orderly for the season. She was tired and behind in her planned schedule for such work. 

Not long after this conversation I emailed my friend to ask what the Lord had said to her about her Christmas preparations. Ellen wrote back and said, “I am the bondservant of the Lord.” Of course my friend was thinking of Mary’s humble response to the angel who told Mary she was to bring Jesus and His salvation into the world (Luke 1:26-38).

I emailed again and said what a helpful outlook that was, especially with Christmas fast approaching.

A day or so later, she wrote again to tell me that indeed her house was still not decorated and much on her “list” was not done. Ellen wrote that now, not only was she sitting in the midst of decoration boxes, but the whole of her kitchen cabinets was spread out around her, all items needing to be thoroughly cleaned and replaced on carefully scrubbed shelves. While they were away on their trip, a mouse was stirring and had crept into Ellen’s home, an unexpected and unwanted intrusion into her home and into her plans.

Oh my! I quickly answered her and said I was so sorry. I told her I was praying for peace for her as she set about on this unanticipated task that kept her from her Christmas preparations. 

Right away an email came up with her response. My friend said simply, “I am at peace. I am the bondservant of the Lord.”

In a flash God spoke to me through the response of my friend. She was the Mary of my December.

This picture was breathtaking to me as I imagined Ellen, peaceful and calm, scrubbing cabinets in the midst of chaos. And this was also an incentive to me to on the alert for any Christmas Mouse that might and probably would intrude into my house or my heart. 

As I thought I realized that my Christmas Mouse could possibly take many forms, some small, some huge.  My “mouse” could be:

• a work spoken that I was not expecting. 
• the loss of something I thought I really needed. 
• a person who hurried the gift opening or dashed other of my “perfect” Christmas plans.
• a trip to the hospital with a loved one.
• the loss of a family member through distance or distress.
• the candles that drip, the bread that won’t rise, or a Prince Charming that isn’t.

Any of these could be my Christmas Mouse. Some of them have been. A mouse often appears where you least expect it. But the inconvenient surprise never surprises God. I want to be the bondservant of the Lord, as Mary acknowledged in her angelic conversation and as Ellen embraced when she found a mouse in her house.

But how can this be, this attitude of humbly accepting the challenging situation before us, especially one that is unexpected? This is the same question Mary asked in the first chapter of Luke. 

Jill Briscoe points out the true and bracing answer.

When Mary was visited by Gabriel and told she was to have a baby—and not just a baby but the baby, the one every Jewish girl hoped she would be privileged to bear—she didn’t ask why but rather how. She could have quiet understandably have asked, “Why? And why now? Why here?” Instead, she simply asked, “How?”

 The answer to “How can I possibly do the will of God in this incredible situation?” was quiet simple, given by the angel visitor: “The Holy Spirit…” Immediately Mary responded with a glad, “I am the Lord’s servant.”

— Jill Briscoe from the book Heartstrings

By believing God’s message, relying on His Spirit, accepting the unique situation in front of them, and offering themselves to God as His servants, both Mary and Ellen gathered the harvest of peace. They saw that God meant the intrusion for good, not only for themselves but for others. Including you. Including me.

Sometimes it takes me longer than a moment to recognize a particular situation for what it is, a “mouse” and an opportunity. However, God is patient and I walk in His mercy. As do you. He will help restore our true vision of things when we draw near, either in anticipation or anguish, in repentance and rest, and ask His Holy Spirit to strengthen our souls so that we can humbly bow to Him, offering ourselves as His servants. Our humble obedience will make a difference in God’s big story and in our own story. 

So Merry Christmas and be on the alert for that Christmas Mouse!

Lord, of Life and Light, help me be alert to see intrusions as Your unique opportunities in my life to be Your servant, for my good and Your glory. Thank You, for the people who acknowledge You, especially in the hard times, and light the way for us to walk with You.  Thank You for the everlasting love that sent Jesus to us to be our Savior, our Friend and our Shepherd. We come in His name with glad and thankful hearts, offering ourselves to You Who first loved us. Amen

Singing His love, mercy and grace,

Carolyn

The God Who Would Be Man

“The Incarnation is the central miracle asserted by Christians; they say that God became a man.” —CS Lewis

Matthew and Luke explain Jesus’ entry into the world as a virgin birth, or more correctly, a virgin conception, for it was Jesus’ conception and not his birth that was unique. Mary was a normal woman in every way and Jesus’ gestation and birth was normal in every way that matters. But his conception was unique for he had no human father. As the old text puts it, Mary “had never known a man.” 

Mary herself was concerned with this question, for nothing in her schooling necessarily led her to the expectation that Messiah would be virgin born. Isaiah's prophecy—“A virgin shall conceive..." (Isaiah 7:14)—did not necessarily raise this expectation. The word Isaiah used, “almah” means “a young woman of marriageable age.” Originally it may have referred to Isaiah's wife who was not a virgin. (She had already borne children.) Matthew, following the Septuagint, the Greek version of the Old Testament, translates and interprets Isaiah's prophecy with the Greek word, pathenos, a Greek word that is not ambiguous and unequivocally means "virgin" (Matthew 1:14). 

“How can this be?” she asked the angel, who then explained, “The Holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. So the holy one to be born will be called the Son of God” (Luke 1:34, 35). This is a great mystery.

Every conception, of course, is mystery. No woman ever conceived a child, no mare a foal, no doe a fawn apart from God. But once, for a very special purpose, God dispensed with natural process and a long line of descendants. With his naked hand he touched Mary's womb and made a wee bairn who was…well, himself. 

Here’s where clinical explanations falter. I can only say is what the first writers said: the child was “conceived by the Holy Spirit” (Matthew 1:20). This was inexplicable then as now, and yet was acceptable, a staunch belief enshrined in the earliest creeds, a fundamental test of doctrinal orthodoxy. Today it stands at the center of our faith.

“But does it matter?” you ask. Of course it does. “All this took place,” Matthew informs us, “to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet:  ‘The young woman will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel’—which means (Matthew translates), ‘God (is) with us’” (Matthew 1:23). 

God is with us. That’s what the virgin birth meant and still means. This is an answer to the old question: Does God care? Does disease, pain, infirmity, handicap and death overwhelm him as much as it does us? Does God weep? Does it matter to him that babies are hooked on drugs and infected by AIDs in utero? Dostoyevsky’s cynic, Ivan, asks of human suffering, “What do the children have to do with it?” Does it matter to God that children suffer? 

The answer is the Incarnation, for in it we see the compassion and the love of God. In this act God entered fully into our suffering. Pain was his lot in the slow ascent from a struggling, kicking embryo to an utterly dependent baby, through gangling, awkward adolescent to young manhood. Throughout, he was a “man of sorrows.” Through all, he was “acquainted with our grief.” “In all our afflictions he was afflicted.” Indeed God understands; he cares as no other.

Dorothy Sayers says it far better than I: “For whatever reason God chose to make man as he is—limited and suffering and subject to sorrows and death—He had the honesty and courage to take his own medicine. Whatever the game he is playing with His creation, He has kept his own rules and played fair.  He can exact nothing from man that he has not exacted from himself.  He has himself gone through the whole of human experience, from the trivial irritations of family life and the cramping restrictions of hard work and lack of money to the worst horrors of pain and humiliation, defeat, despair, and death.  When He was a man, He played the man.  He was born in poverty and died in disgrace and thought it well worthwhile.” 

Jesus’ conception, though one of a kind, is timelessly typical of what is eternally true of God. He “never undoes anything but evil, never does good to undo it again. The union between God and (human) nature in the person of Christ admits no divorce. He will not go out of nature again…” (C.S. Lewis, Miracles, p. 124). He has always been and will always be Immanuel: God with us.

David Roper