Aquariums

My cousin has recently gotten into “fishkeeping.” He has a huge aquarium and he is “god of his own little world,” creating the environment and sustaining the life of a variety of exotic fish. One of the trappings he has added to his aquarium is a fluorescent light above the tank which is kept on during daytime hours. The rationale, he explained to me, is that fish determine their sense of direction largely by the source of light. Light is up. (It makes sense – light only enters the sea from the surface.) If there is no light source above them during the day, and they sense a light from somewhere else in the room, they will start “floating tilted to the side.” Amusing!

The god of that microcosm is borrowing a principle from the God of the Real World. Jesus said “I am the light of the world” (John 8:12). He knew that people need light to make sense of things. We too get our “sense of direction” from a “light source.” All those who have not received Him “remain in darkness” (John 12:46).

That explains why those who have not received the Blessed Revelation have a hard time finding a solid, satisfying purpose in life. The masses are aimless. We do not know where we are going, or where we came from, or why we are on this journey at all. We stumble in the dark.

That’s part of what Jesus meant when he called himself “Light.” He said, “I am the anchor, the compass, the solid rock that can help you get your bearings in life.” On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand. When we can finally grasp Something absolute and firm, there can be an end to the swirls of relativity and uncertainty. Life makes sense.

“I believe in Christianity like I believe the sun has risen. Not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.” – C.S. Lewis

Migdal-eder

Migdal-eder, translated “tower of the flock”, was a shepherd’s watchtower near Bethlehem, between Bethlehem and Jerusalem. In the photo above, the town of Bethlehem can be seen in the background, Migdal Eder is to the left of the valley, in the center, on the high hill. Thanks Rabbi Michael Short for this source.

Jacob camped there briefly in Genesis 35:21, and the following was prophesied about it in Micah 4:8:

“As for you, tower of the flock, Hill of the daughter of Zion, To you it will come— Even the former dominion will come, The kingdom of the daughter of Jerusalem.”

Perhaps this could be a poetic metaphor for Jerusalem itself, but it could also be a reference to this more specific place. If this is true, it would be fascinating to note that the shepherds “in the same region, out in the fields” near Bethlehem (Luke 2:8) were likely in Migdal-eder. When the angels appeared to the shepherds, they were fulfilling prophecy.

Additionally, in Targum pseudo-Jonathan, an Aramaic translation of the Hebrew scriptures that served as a paraphrase or commentary to the Jews, there is a note about the verse in Micah: “It is the place where the Messiah will be manifested in the end times.”

Praise be to God for his prophecies, all fulfilled in Jesus Christ!

These scriptural observations were presented this morning by Larry Jaffery of Middle East Ministries at Centreville Baptist Church.

When God died

“Ha! Where is your God now?”

Jesus looked to his left side, where his companion always stood. Gone.

His best friend, who was always whispering in his ear the messages of their father, wasn’t standing there where he always did. His companion, gone. His only connection to home, since he had come down on this distant mission. His absence sent another burst of despair throbbing through his heart.

In a flash he remembered their last, pained conversation. “We won’t be able to communicate for a while,” his companion had said.

“How long?” Jesus asked.

The companion shook his head sadly. “Father won’t tell me.” He took a breath. “I must leave now.” He set a the iron goblet on the table, jerking his hand away from it as soon as he had done so, as if it stung to the touch. The companion stared at the goblet in horror and confusion, backing away, then raised his eyes to Jesus’.

“I know,” Jesus said, acknowledging the tacit meaning in his eyes. “All of it.”

His disciples hadn’t known that night that the wine that bound them to his divinity also bound him to their cursed humanity. In their cups that night had been the wine of fellowship with his father, but in his, the wine of wrath.

Now, hanging there, Jesus was drawn back to his misery by jeers from the red-plumed helmets below.

“Where is your God now?”

Jesus knew scorn – he had experienced it ever since this flesh he had donned was young. Instinctively he craned his head to the left. The companion always used to whisper the truth into that ear, “Father says don’t listen to them. You are his son, and he is pleased with you.”

Silence. Another wave of misery crashed over his soul, and he cried out. “My God!” He looked right – perhaps the companion was there. No. He craned his neck to look up, but the heavens were shut tight with iron doors. He was abandoned. “My God! Why have you forsaken me!” His voice broke as he muttered it, and he began to weep.

“If you are God’s son, come down from there!” shouted an old pharisee, and spat at him.

If you are God’s son. Jesus was bewildered – without the companion he didn’t know where, or even who he was. The wine. He could feel it coursing through his veins, whispering, “Depart from me, I never knew you.” Cursed is he who hangs on a tree, the scripture echoed. A voice slithered into his mind, “You are damned. You are lost in darkness.”

Then, for the smallest part of a second, he forgot. He stopped breathing. He forgot who he was, his intimate connection with the father. For an instant God’s rejection of him seemed eternal. The eternity of his rejection fell upon him with infinite weight. And in that moment, he died.

Then, like a distant light, the thought formed in him, “This is what father wanted, because he loves the sons of Adam. For you, father. I die for you. For you, because I love you, so be it.” Then love filled his heart for his father, deep and rich. And as love entered, suddenly he remembered. Love, the lifeblood of his father’s heart, the essence of their connection, warmed him with familiar strength. He knew who he was and what he had come to do.

And then, as the last drops of his own blood dripped down the pole on which he hung, as his human life faded, his soul was resurfacing. His head began to sag as his consciousness faded to black, but his soul was rushing up from the abyss of abandonment toward the light of paradise. He was going home.

So he whispered, “It is finished,” and breathed his last.

A grateful foreigner

“Also the foreigners who join themselves to the LORD,
To minister to Him, and to love the name of the LORD,
To be His servants, every one who keeps from profaning the sabbath
And holds fast My covenant;
Even those I will bring to My holy mountain
And make them joyful in My house of prayer
Their burnt offerings and their sacrifices will be acceptable on My altar;
For My house will be called a house of prayer for all the peoples.”
The Lord GOD, who gathers the dispersed of Israel, declares,
“Yet others I will gather to them, to those already gathered.”

(Isaiah 56:6-8)

Here’s one foreigner who’s grateful to God that He has always intended to welcome ignoble blood into the house of prayer.

Returning

Here’s my prayer

Just don’t let me go back there

I was frozen cold and scared

You warm me

Here’s my praise

You let me in anyways

Though like a fool I ran away

You chased me

Here’s my plea

Send your angels, surround me

The holy mountain is so steep

You lift me

Here’s my wish

To never waiver never miss

Your presence even for a glimpse

You keep me

Here’s my life

Though dragging mangled cords of strife

My soul begs for your arms, and I’m

Returning

Pre-tribbers, a little explanation?

“But the one who endures to the end, he will be saved.” (Mark 13:13)

“Unless the Lord had shortened those days, no life would have been saved; but for the sake of the elect, whom He chose, He shortened the days.” (13:20)

“But in those days, after that tribulation…He will send forth the angels and will gather together His elect from the four winds, from the farthest end of the earth to the farthest end of heaven.” (13:27)

At the coming of the Son of Man with power, after the tribulation, that’s when he will gather his elect. How do we reconcile a pre-tribulation rapture with this? It seems quite difficult to me.

Circle

We go around again

Around the world in 80 years

There’s nothing new

We still seem to be missing something

That’s what we get when

We look for meaning in a world that’s a circle

The spinning cycle of a world that’s a circle

Let’s exit orbit

Up in the heavens we’ll find our answer

But to see glory

In Apollo’s vain ambition, it will melt our wings

So we need someone to

Take us out of a world that’s a circle

Lift us out of a world that’s a circle

And give us meaning in the world that’ s a circle

http://www.youtube.com/get_player

Wood or God – tough choice

God is very self-centered.

In Isaiah 45, he is really trying to bring attention to himself.

“I, the Lord, am the maker of all things, stretching out the heavens by Myself and spreading out the earth all alone.” (44:24)
“It is I, the Lord, the God of Israel, who calls you [Cyrus] by your name.” (45:3)
“I am the Lord, and there is no other; Besides Me there is no God.” (45:5)
“It is I who made the earth, and created man upon it. I stretched out the heavens with my hands and I ordained all their host.” (45:12)
“I am the Lord and there is no one else.” (45:18)

God is just exasperated with the foolishness of people who worship and serve created things rather than Him, the Creator. Take wood for instance. “They have no knowledge, who carry about their wooden idol, and pray to a God who cannot save.” (45:20)

He wants the worship, and he will have it, whether we choose it or not.

“Is it not I, the Lord? And there is no other God besides Me, a righteous God and a Saviour; there is no one except Me. Turn to Me and be saved, all the ends of the earth; For I am God and there is no other. I have sworn by Myself, the word has gone forth from my mouth in righteousness and will not turn back, that to me every knee will bow, every tongue will swear allegiance. They will say of Me, ‘Only in the Lord are righteousness and strength.’ Men will come to Him, and all who were angry at Him will be put to shame. In the Lord all the offspring of Israel will be justified and will glory.” (45:21)

Yes, I get the picture, God is saying “It is me! Hello there! Hello! I am God. You don’t have any other options for God- I’m the only one. I am responsible for the universe, for your existence. Quit worshiping wood! Worship me!”

So God is touting his sovereignty here, putting himself front and center, claiming exclusivity. God is being very self-centered, and he expects us to be him-centered too. Is his self-centeredness self-ishness?

No, I would say selfishness is claiming to be the center of things of which you aren’t the center. No one would blame Leonardo DiCaprio for making a fuss if Ben Affleck got an Academy Award for Inception. God’s self-centeredness makes perfect sense. It’s right. It’s good.

Praise be to God that he isn’t content with us worshipping wood.

Bonking out

In long-distance running, “bonking” is when you just hit a wall and loose energy. It’s no longer a matter of willpower—you just crash and your body can’t go on. When I ran ultramarathons I would try to avoid bonking at all cost, because once you bonk you are doomed to walk at least a several miles before you can regain your energy. You might not be able resume running at all. It will ruin hope of a strong finish.

There’s something besides ultramarathons in which bonking out is bad. Life. Life is a journey, they say, and a “very tough uphill climb” at times. Sounds like an ultramarathon to me. Paul calls it “the race marked out for me.” And in life too, we want to finish strong. Everyone can start out great, with plenty of energy, optimism and dreams, but how we cross the finish line is another story.

Hezekiah started out very strong. “Hezekiah trusted in the LORD, the God of Israel. There was no one like him among all the kings of Judah, either before him or after him” (2 Kings 18:5). He was one of the most god-fearing kings of Judah, famous for praying to the Lord and experiencing deliverance from the army of the Assyrians. (Remember the time the angel of the Lord killed 185,000 Assyrians encamped around Jerusalem in one night?) But Hezekiah had an anticlimactic finish—he whined to God about sickness, boasted in the material wealth of Israel to the Babylonians, and, when he was told that all the things he boasted about would be taken into captivity, said, “Eh, at least it’s not in my lifetime. Fine with me.” Doesn’t sound like the idol-smashing man of God that took over the kingdom at age 25.

And if you add them up, more leaders in the Bible ended poorly than ended well. Even take David and Moses—after exhilarating careers, they expressed adultery and anger near the end, respectively, and about the last we hear of them is the consequences those sins.

Now I’m not deriding the prophets. What I’m getting at is that I see a tendency in followers of God to “bonk,” to lose their spiritual energy and end up “walking the rest of the way.” I want to avoid that as much as possible.

How?

A suggestion from the world of ultrarunning is: breathe. Yep, it turns out the secret to ward off the bonk is to keep your cardiovascular pace low enough so that you don’t kick into anaerobic respiration. Regulating your breathing so that your muscles only engage in aerobic respiration keeps lactic acid from building up in your muscles, which causes cramping and burnout. Breathe steadily and your endurance skyrockets.

It’s also crucial to eat. Yeah, you have to keep your blood sugar at sustainable levels or you’ll get dizzy and your muscles will get weak, leading to a bonk out. Ultrarunners bring electrolyte drinks, energy bars, gel packs, and the like in order to keep a steady stream of carbohydrate energy to their body.

How do you spiritually “breathe” and “eat” so that you spiritually “finish strong”?

We are familiar with the spiritual concepts of breathing and eating. We breathe the Breath of God, the Holy Spirit. We eat the Word of God, the Christ and the message he embodies. Breathing means communing with the Holy Spirit and letting him live and breathe in me, for me; it’s maintaining a constant consciousness of God’s presence and yielding to his will, no matter what I happen to be doing. Eating means treasuring, digesting, buying into, and banking on the words of God and the Word of God—the divine message communicated through the scriptures and any other means, and ultimately Christ himself.

This hit me. In running this race of life, I cannot please and serve God and “run the race marked out for me” by pushing through with willpower and adrenaline. It’s easy to get so excited with the race of serving God, to get big aspirations for crossing the finish line to thunderous applause, that I push myself too fast and far. My spirit will build up acids and lose sugar, if you will—and my vaulting ambition will have the reverse effect. I’ll “burn out.” It’s a term that was part of the commonplace jargon among those of us in Liberty University’s student leadership program. Ministry, service, and more ministry—all throttle and no fuel.

The way to win the race is to finish strong, and the way to finish strong is to keep a steady input of God into my life. His Spirit, His Word. They have to be entering me constantly to replenish me, or a bonk out is only a few miles away. A lifetime of daily breathing, drinking and eating God, of steady communion and communication with Him—that’s how to run the race. Because when God is in you, he will make you keep running by his own life energy.

“You, LORD, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light. With your help I can advance against a troop; with my God I can scale a wall.” (Psalm 18:28-29)

A hard thing to give up

To be used by God requires that I give up knowing how I will be used by God. For a planner and controller, this is exceedingly difficult. I always thought that my drive for success, my motivation to excel, to hew out a name for myself by years of early mornings and late nights–this was virtuous. Hard work is praised highly in both the American dream and mine. Laziness is damnable.

But it seems that America wants it for material prosperity, and I for spiritual legacy and “apostleship.” The life of Christ was simple obedience, an attentive ear to the Father, and the relinquishing of all prominence and honor. God, I will give up anything so that I would just be used by you. But can I give up being used by you?

Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest, November 10:

“After sanctification, it is difficult to state what your purpose in life is, because God has moved you into His purpose through the Holy Spirit. He is using you now for His purposes throughout the world as He used His Son for the purpose of our salvation. If you seek great things for yourself, thinking, “God has called me for this and for that,” you barricade God from using you. As long as you maintain your own personal interests and ambitions, you cannot be completely aligned or identified with God’s interests. This can only be accomplished by giving up all of your personal plans once and for all, and by allowing God to take you directly into His purpose for the world. Your understanding of your ways must also be surrendered, because they are now the ways of the Lord.”