Be Still

 

I awoke with the thought this morning, “Be still.” It comes from the oft-quoted verse, “Be still and know that I am God.” The full verse is:

Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.” (Psalm 46:10)

So we can be still, because God is not remaining still. God is on the move, both on the earth and in our lives. Indeed, what causes us to lose our place of stillness is the fear that no one but ourselves is moving: That we are the only ones in charge of this operation, and if we do not do something about it, catastrophe inevitable.

And this feeling can come in all shapes and sizes. We need not be eyes-bulging and paranoid to be one who has lost our peace. Sometimes we can be quite accomplished. Or, we are not fearing big things, like death, but quite small things like managing a trip to the airport. Virtually anything can be a cause for lost peace.

The other day, I found myself in our sun room (which also serves as a place of prayer). The days leading up to that day, I had felt such a sweet, continuous presence of God upon me. But this particular morning, I seemed to be feeling nothing but the hard cold facts of my situation. I felt anxious and finally said to God, “I can’t do this” with tears. Immediately I felt God say, “I am at work; I am doing a deep work.” With that I lay down and fell asleep.

The Lord once said to my wife, “Do not underestimate the power of My comfort.” And the same I feel is true about God’s peace. When we lose His peace, we are not just irritable: We are vulnerable. We were never designed to take matters into our own hands and meet our own needs. It is counter to our true nature. We were made to partner with God in all we do. And when we break that bond (always because of lack of trust) we end up partnering with something else. And it is never good for us.

I think it is often difficult for you and me to understand being still because we do not realize God is at work and is always doing a deep work. We are told often what we must do to better our lives: There is a message broadcast constantly that implicitly assumes we are all alone and on our own. So when we try to practice stillness, it does not work.

But stillness is about realizing God is always at work. That Jesus chose us, that He began a good work, and He is bringing it to completion.

Often I find: The moments I am tempted to think God is not at work are those important moments in life when God is pushing up to the surface a thing in my life He wishes to heal. That is, the times I fear God is not at work are the times God is most at work.

At times I will feel God’s sweet presence and favor; at other times I may recognize God is bringing correction and healing to an area of my life. But there are other times — or shall I say other areas — where God’s work in me is so delicate that my response is not stillness but fear. And fear always leads to control. It may not feel like control to me. The area of my heart demanding control may have been with me for so long that control is unconscious. In those areas, it may seem to me God is nowhere to be found. But this is where He is doing His most profound work.

And this is where stillness is most powerful. For as we come to rest, we let God in. God will be exalted among the nations, He will be exalted on the earth.

And he will be exalted in those places of our hearts where we have long given up hope we can ever be rescued.


Photo by Shane Stagner on Unsplash

 

 

Life is Beautiful

 

My five-year-old granddaughter Anna, who was close to my wife Catherine (who, as many of you know, passed away unexpectedly this month), was over with her mom and dad to celebrate the college graduation of my daughter (her aunt). There were about thirty people at the house and this house is not big, so there was lots going on.

Suddenly, Anna says to me from across the room, “Grandpa! I see something in this house that was not here before!” And with that, she walks over to an end table beside me where the guest book and brochure from Catherine’s memorial service had been placed on display. The brochure had Catherine’s photo on it.

“Yes, that’s Grandma,” I said. I waited to see what her response would be — and so did her dad, not far away. Several days before, Anna’s mom had explained to her that her grandmother had gone to be with Jesus in Heaven, and that God would surround her with other family members who loved her, and they would take Grandma’s place till we all saw her again. Anna had taken the news seriously but with surprising acceptance. But our journey through this loss has just begun, and today was a new day.

Anna studied the photo for a bit, then turned to her dad and said, “Isn’t today just wonderful?” And then she proceeded to take two flowers that had been attached to one of her aunt’s gift bags and place them carefully on the book stand, just above Catherine’s photo.

It has been a little over three weeks now since my wife Catherine passed, and as you might guess, many, many people who loved her and who love me have reached out and asked how I am doing. It has been difficult to answer with any form of honesty or credulity, not because I am too devastated to form the right response, but rather because of the opposite. How I, and my children, are doing has been a rich composite of many tears but also of unspeakable joy.

It has been characterized by unprecedented vulnerability and unexpected strength. It has been a tender marriage of both unprecedented grief and unfathomable grace. It has been a college graduation without mom here, but with sweet little Anna placing flowers next to her photo and declaring, for all the world to know, that this day, even with its sorrow, is just wonderful.

So my response to my loved ones, if it were a text message, would be simple and concise, amounting to four words: Life is still beautiful.


Photo by Jarl Schmidt on Unsplash

 

The Christian Mind: Modern

The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge
(Psalm 19)

I wish to return to and idea that has to do with the parable in our last post, and that is: Consciousness, free will and thought are non-negotiable: No theory can deny them without destroying itself in the process. If I say, “I propose I am not thinking right now,” then the proposal itself loses all credibility, for if I am not thinking, then I am not proposing. You cannot propose a thought without thinking.

Similarly, we have also said that no moral system can deny that morality is objective without destroying itself in the process. If I say “morality is merely an illusion” then any moral pronouncement I make (“thus and such is hateful”) becomes meaningless.

This is a recap of course. But what these two ideas have in common is that both are key features of the modern mind. We modern people like to think (or accept as unquestionably true) we are educated and sophisticated and are so much more advanced than our forebears. But we claim morality is merely a byproduct of evolution and yet continue to make moral pronouncements and live as though things like right and wrong actually exist. And we say consciousness is merely a chemical phenomenon, not realizing the very claim we are making is a product of that same phenomenon. For being so educated — and pardon the bluntness — we come across a bit dim.

There is also something troubling about such claims. It means things like beauty and truth and virtue and awe and splendor and compassion and love do not exist. These things seem core to who we are as human beings, even vital to what it means to be human. And yet we — as modern people — are willing to part with them. Quite easily, in fact. We are willing to part with them even if our very claims about truth that cause us to part with them are logically incoherent.

Why is this? I think it is because of the alternative. If we allow ourselves to recognize the logical incoherence of our conclusion, we would have to acknowledge that one of our assumptions is invalid. In the case of human thought being an illusion caused purely by chemical reactions, we would have to say, “Wait, no. That cannot possibly be true.” And then we would have to challenge the assumption that gave rise to that assumption: That humans are no more than biological machines. But what gave rise to that assumption? That reality itself is purely physical. This is the base assumption that cannot possibly be true.

But if our whole notion that reality is purely physical is not true, by definition that would mean reality is more than physical; it is more than nature. It would mean we live in a supernatural world. And this is something the modern mind is simply not prepared, or perhaps willing, to accept.

It is more willing to divest itself of all that is sacred and destroy itself in the process than acknowledge what cannot be denied. In short, it seems the modern mind would rather become nothing than acknowledge God.


Photo by Denis Degioanni on Unsplash

The Christian Mind: Parable

The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech; night after night they reveal knowledge
(Psalm 19)

Two individuals walked along a solitary road at night. One looked up and said, “What immense beauty; what magnificent splendor. Certainly there is a God.”

The other turned and said, “What you see as beauty and splendor is neither. It is merely matter and energy and space. Look more closely: There is no God.”

The two continued walking. Moments later, the first said, “Behold how fearfully and wonderfully made we are. We can walk along this road, converse, reflect upon the world, know truth, know right from wrong, and even ponder God Himself. Certainly there is a God, and we are made in His image.”

To which the other said, “What you call fearfully and wonderfully made is neither. It is merely a result of accidental forces of nature. And what you call conversing and reflection is merely a chemical phenomenon. And what you call right and wrong is merely a survival mechanism. And what you call God is merely wish fulfillment. Look more closely: There is no God.”

“It is worse than that,” the other replied. “There is no us.”


Photo by Jakob Puff on Unsplash

The Christian Mind: Feminism

A little over a year ago, self-described feminist Samantha Johnson penned an editorial for the Huffington Post titled When I Became A Mother, Feminism Let Me Down. In it, she writes:

We are teaching our young people that there is no value in motherhood and that homemaking is an outdated, misogynistic concept. We do this through the promotion of professional progression as a marker of success, while completely devaluing the contribution of parents in the home. 

As we turn to discuss how Christianity fits with the modern idea of feminism — arguably a topic that covers a lot of territory — I wish to zero in on those three words I have bolded above for emphasis, for the purpose of this essay. Continue reading “The Christian Mind: Feminism”