So, Where Was That Spirit From Again?

Now the Spirit of the LORD departed from Saul, and an evil spirit from the LORD terrorized him.  Saul's servants then said to him, "Behold now, an evil spirit from God is terrorizing you.  Let our lord now command your servants who are before you. Let them seek a man who is a skillful player on the harp; and it shall come about when the evil spirit from God is on you, that he shall play the harp with his hand, and you will be well." (1 Samuel 16:14-16 NASB)

On the 14th, I wrote an entry in this blog about what it meant for me that my Master would send an 'evil spirit to torment'.   My conclusion was that all things come from my Master, and therefore I will praise Him more.  It's one thing to say that, and sing nice and lovely to praise my Master more.  But what about when bad things happen?  Oops, hmm, didn't thing about that.

So, while I write a lot of blog entries on theology and philosophy, what I do to put bread on the table is sales.  Part of my struggle with that is that I'm not really a 'salesman'.  I'm really a teacher who teaches people to buy smarter.  Sometimes that works well and in my favor, and sometimes it doesn't.  But it always works in the customers favor.  Because of this, I have developed a long relationship with several of our customers.  Recently my company put forth a company-wide effort to delight our customers.  It hasn't quite trickled down yet.

In my sales department, we have a rule that says that if a sales rep leaves a voicemail with a customer, they own the sales for the next two weeks.  The idea is that we recoup sales lost from customers hearing the message but calling into the general queue without mentioning the rep who left the message or who order online.  This protects the sales credit for the rep who prompted the sale.  Sounds good right?

What happens when my long-time client (seven years!) calls me direct for their annual order, and as I go into their account, I find that one of my teammates has left a message a few days ago?  Now I have a choice.  I can pass off the customer to that sales rep since I don't get credit, and let that guy do all the work.  Or I can  keep the customer, enter the order, but just put the other rep's credit on it; maintaining the relationship but without the benefit.

I have complained about this, and have been shot down every time.  I leave a lot of messages for customers, but I very rarely get much in the way of sales from it.  The idea is that if I leave more messages, I'll get more sales.  I hate that idea.  It does work, just statistically speaking, it has to.  But it's without skill, without relationship, and fails to measure anything but the ability to leave more messages than the next guy.  It drives me nuts.

So, I do two things in protest.  First, I maintain my sales relationships I have with customers to the degree that I can; I enter the orders, even with other reps credit (as I did in this case).  Second, I give those sales away when I have left a message but someone else has an established relationship.  If they get the call back because they have an established relationship, I believe they should get the sale (I'm not as generous when the customer doesn't call them back though).  Both of these things only hurt myself.  But both actions preserve my values.  My values aren't in line with what I do, the rules under which I do them, nor the wishes of my managers.  I hold my values anyway.

But what does this have to do with my Master and sending evil tormenting spirits?  Well, I also believe that while I do a lot of 'planting' and 'watering' of customers and sales processes in my job, it is my Master bringing the results.  If all things are from Him, and He knows all things, then He knew and arranged to have my co-worker leave that message days before my customer called me.  I can get frustrated with the system, I can get frustrated with my co-worker (for doing his job, right, that makes sense), I can get frustrated with my manager; but each of those things is the wrong response.

What I am learning through this is to receive from my Master's hand whatever He decides to give me; when and how He decides to give it.  But also to let go from my hand whatever He wants to take.  If He really brings the sales, than they are His not mine.  Can I let go of what I believe I am entitled to receive?  Can I relent with my Master?  It's one thing to say all things come from Him, it is another to be okay with it.  Can I be okay with it?  "Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked I shall return.  The Lord gives, and the Lord has taken away, Blessed be the name of the Lord" (Job 1:21).

Will I accept this?  Will I still praise my Master when He takes away sales on which I was counting?  Will I, having lost almost nothing compared to Job's loss, say as he said, "Blessed be the Name of the Lord"?  This is where my 'culture' and 'society' influences begin to weaken, and the message of Scripture begins to come home to me.  Yes, I will accept; I will praise my Master; I will bless His name, sing songs of praise all the more intensely, and live out the belief that all things do in fact come from my Master.

No, Seriously, What's Really Bothering You?

Now the apostles and the brethren who were throughout Judea heard that the Gentiles also had received the word of God.  And when Peter came up to Jerusalem, those who were circumcised took issue with him, saying, "You went to uncircumcised men and ate with them." (Acts 11:1-3 NASB)

When Jesus ministers on earth, several of his most poignant services are to Gentiles.  For instance, Matthew records the centurion who came to Jesus asking that his servant be healed, but only that Jesus say so, not that he come to the centurion's house.  Jesus makes an interesting comment in this account (Mat. 8:11-12) where He says that "many will come from east and west, and recline at the table with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven; but the sons of the kingdom will be cast out into the outer darkness"

You might be led to believe that Jesus was referring to Gentiles.  After all, the context was His comment on the faith of a Gentile.  Yet, we find that Jesus' disciples seem to miss this reference, even after His resurrection, after the filling by the Spirit on Pentecost, and after Jesus tells them to spread His good news to the ends of the earth.  So, why the confusion?  Perhaps it lies in that there was an assumption that the disciples carried with them as they heard these words, saw these things, and looked around them to follow suit.

Those in Jerusalem in this passage are referred to as "the circumcision" (literally, "the ones from out of circumcision").  It is an odd designation to give to disciples in Jerusalem.  It gives the impression that it doesn't refer to all of the disciples, but to some.  Yet weren't they all Jews?  Why refer to some of them as "from out of circumcision"?  I suspect that this group was marked by views that were specifically tied to this distinguishing feature of Judaism.  It was one of two that marked Jews distinctly from the people around whom they lived.

When they hear of Gentiles receiving the word of God, they go to Peter, but ask a different question.  It's not that Gentiles heard the word of God.  It's not that Gentiles had faith in Jesus.  Their issue is that Peter ate with the Gentiles.  He had crossed a line of demarcation between the Jews and Gentiles.  He had ignored a separation that this group held sacred.  An assumption is revealed:  To come to God through Jesus, one must first be a Jew.  Peter's testimony reveals that God has accepted these Gentiles as they are without requiring them to separate from the rest of the Gentile world into Judaism.  Suddenly the comment made by Jesus that many would come from the east and west and that the children of the Kingdom would not takes on a more dire meaning.

Two thousand years later, it's easy to look back at these people and scoff.  But don't I do that?  Don't I assume that my Master only accepts people like me?  Seriously, if I don't go to all sorts of people, (and I live around all sorts of people) then am I really declaring that my Master calls and draws people of all sorts?  Or is it that I really want to reach people like me, people in my comfort zone who are easy for me to talk with?  It is difficult for me to say that I believe as Jesus said, that many will come from all over (east and west, not just west) and dine in the Kingdom of my Master, yet withhold myself from those from all over.

I admit that I hear of the work of my Master and rejoice.  That's good.  These of the circumcision didn't, so I'm better off right?  And this issue isn't over for them, they cause trouble over and over throughout Acts.  So, I'm totally better off, am I not?  I'm not.  I'm can't speak for you, but I can tell you that I haven't gone to the weird people around me.  I can tell you that those around whom I'm not comfortable, I keep quiet about the amazing truth in which I live.  Jesus, the Maker and Sustainer of this universe, loves me.  But He loves them too.  They need to know that.  They may reject the knowledge, but they need to at least hear it to reject it.  I've kept quiet.  Shame on me.

Saved By the Well

So Abraham rose early in the morning and took bread and a skin of water and gave them to Hagar, putting them on her shoulder, and gave her the boy, and sent her away. And she departed and wandered about in the wilderness of Beersheba.  When the water in the skin was used up, she left the boy under one of the bushes.  Then she went and sat down opposite him, about a bowshot away, for she said, "Do not let me see the boy die." And she sat opposite him, and lifted up her voice and wept.  God heard the lad crying; and the angel of God called to Hagar from heaven and said to her, "What is the matter with you, Hagar? Do not fear, for God has heard the voice of the lad where he is.  Arise, lift up the lad, and hold him by the hand, for I will make a great nation of him."  Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water; and she went and filled the skin with water and gave the lad a drink.  God was with the lad, and he grew; and he lived in the wilderness and became an archer. 21 He lived in the wilderness of Paran, and his mother took a wife for him from the land of Egypt. (Genesis 21:14-21 NASB)

This is one of the saddest most pathetic stories in Scripture.  Hagar leaves the household of Abraham, again.  Only now she hasn't done anything wrong.  God told her to go back and submit, and she did.  Now here she is again, but innocent.  This time her son is with her (he who shall be nameless).  Abraham gives them bread and water and sends them off on a donkey.  Even before the water runs out, the donkey disappears (oh sure they'll take the donkey back!).  But the water does run out.

When the water is gone, Hagar throws the boy under a bush, and goes a distance away because she doesn't want to see her son (the boy) die.  It's gut wrenching, dramatic, you almost weep with her it's so sad.  She cries out in mourning.  Oddly, it seems "the boy" is crying as well, only he's crying out to God; and it works (go figure).  God calls long distance from heaven and in His customary gentle, soothing tone, says, "What's the matter with you!"  I love that.  And before you begin to get all huffy with God, go back and read chapter 16, especially verses 7 through 12. 

God called Hagar on her faith.  She should have had confidence in God, that He would fulfill His promises to her and "the boy".  She had been promised that her son would be the father of a great nation, much like Isaac, only her son would be a "wild donkey man" (okay, so it wasn't all good news).  God had promised Hagar, then Abraham, then Abraham again, and now Hagar again.  But it's not the promise of God for the future that saves them.  It's not such words that she's encouraged to go on and make it some how.  The human spirit was not going to persevere beyond the need for water, not this time.  God provided their need for water, not just promises of a future.

The reality of their need didn't change because God promised a future.  In order to fulfill His promise of a future, God also provided for the present need.  This is where I need to camp out for a while.  There are a lot of promises of God in Scripture, many that can be claimed by modern believers (and many that can't).  I can go on and on about the uncomfortable promises of punishment that apply as well, but that's not where I see the point here.  One prominent promise of God is that followers of the King of Kings will one day stand in His presence before His throne and worship.  That's a promise which requires some present support.

For me to believe and accept that I will one day stand in His presence and worship Him, I have to believe in a lot of other stuff as well.  I also have some needs in the present that have to be met some how.  I have to believe in Jesus, that He existed, exists, and has provided for the restoration and preservation of my relationship with my Maker and Master.  That's not an option, I have to believe that.  I also have to believe that my Master loves me (which is why Jesus accomplished all that stuff).  That's warm and fuzzy, and I like that part.  But I also have to believe that my Master has my back, that He is my protection.  But this is a deceptive belief that requires understanding and acceptance of another belief (it's sort of like a line of dominoes).

I have come to accept that my Master is concerned about my life here and the details of it only to the extent that He can use my life and those details for His kingdom.  When He promises to preserve my life eternally, He understands life to mean my relationship with Him, and in no other way.  That is what I am promised will never end, not my physical existence here.  Here I may find difficulties, pain, sadness, and injustice.  He never promised me that I wouldn't.

But because of this promise of an eternal relationship with Him, I have some present needs He also attends to.  He takes care of a "bully" that threatens to take me out.  Seriously, the adversary and enemy of all humanity can only taunt me through a fence.  Sure it's a chain-link fence and it seems awfully close, but it's also tall, topped with serious razor wire, and guarded by the armies of Heaven.  My part is not to listen to the taunts (which I have difficulty with).  But I live, breathe, and walk through my life behind this impenetrable fence.  My relationship with my Master is a life where I walk about in His presence and only the taunts of my enemy can reach my ears, and only then when I listen for them.

Sure, this world in which I experience my life with my Master is hard, but that life with Him is protected by Him.  I can engage in all things in this world with the confidence that the fence is secure.  He could splash me with gas, toss a match, and still, my life would be safe with my Master (I may be much darker, but my life with my Master would be in tact).  When my Master has my back, the important, eternal things are secure.  The events of this world are merely taunts of a imprisoned defeated enemy.  I just have to turn that male skill of "selective listening" to my advantage and focus on my Master.  Which also means I probably should give up control of the various TV remotes.  Dang, I hate that.

Trial and Error or Recon by Fire: An Option To Find The Will of God

So Sarai said to Abram, "Now behold, the LORD has prevented me from bearing children. Please go in to my maid; perhaps I will obtain children through her." And Abram listened to the voice of Sarai. (Genesis 16:2 NASB)

In the Ancient Near East (ANE), surrogate motherhood was not an unheard of solution for barren women of wealth and status.  In that culture the woman acting as the surrogate gave birth sitting on the lap of the intended mother in the birthing chair.  The child was then "born into the lap" of the intended mother.  Not terribly comfortable for anyone.

So, in the case of Abram and Sarai, the option of surrogate motherhood seemed like a valid one.  After all, God had said the promised child through whom would come the descendants like the dust and stars would come through Abram.  He hadn't mentioned Sarai in His promise.  Given the length of time between discussions, it could easily be assumed, God was not waiting on them.  Typically, Abram and Sarai (particularly Sarai) get a bad reputation here, and it probably isn't deserved.  In fact, their search technique for finding the will and direction from God is actually fairly common.

Don't just stand there do something!  We say it, we think it about ourselves.  Our culture tells us that activity is better than passivity.  I have bought into it, and I'm not alone.  I'm told this axiom by my employer, by my friends, wife, family where I came from, and myself.  On the other hand, over a decade ago, a new version had become popular, "Don't just do something, stand there!"  It's not as popular as it used to be.

One of my weaknesses is procrastination.  It's a weakness I plan on working on one of these days.  I am an avoid-er of things I should do, I know it, and I beat myself up about it.  I feel shame about it.  I sense the failing, the fear, the empty courage.  But in coming out here to Nevada, I had to face the fear of acting according to everyone else.  I waited on the opportunities and direction of God, and moved to obey without waiting for resources to do so.  It was one of the most faithful processes I have ever had the joy of participating in.

So, I know that sometimes what my Master tells me is to wait.  Then, for me, waiting is an act of obedience.  And at times, He says to go or move or do, and to then to wait for more from Him is to disobey.  In Genesis 16, Abram has been waiting, but it doesn't say how long.  The word from God at first was lots of descendants.  Then it was expanded to be lots of descendants from Abram.  To this point, Abram has moved and been obedient to the vague direction of his God.  He has believed his God, and that belief has been credited to him as righteousness. 

One detail he was given was that his descendants innumerable would not possess the land until after 400 years of slavery.  In other words, after waiting a long time.  So, Abram knew that waiting was included in the promise.  But the child to come through him really couldn't wait all that long, at some point Abram would die.  So, while he had been waiting and knew that waiting was included in the "land" part of the promise, he also knew that there was a limit on how long he could wait for the "descendant" part of the promise.

In this passage, really the only clue we have that this option was wrong was the discussion between the Angel of the Lord and Hagar.  There we discover that Ishmael would be blessed (sort of) as well, but was not the child of the promise.  So, the option of a surrogate mother was not how God intended to fulfill His promise to Abram.  The practical conventionally wise solution under the circumstances was not the leading of God.  But it didn't bother God either.  In fact He wove the child of Hagar into His will and work all throughout the life of His chosen people. 

In this instance trial and error wasn't working for Abram and Sarai to find the path to the promise of God.  This would have been an "error".  That's an option I often choose to find the will of my Master.  I can always tell by the "error" result that it's not working.  And I'm not really sure when I don't fail that I've truly found His path.  I wonder if He is "permitting" something I've chosen to attempt, as in His blessing of Ishmael; not great, but useful for later.  I realize that not knowing the will of my Master is never comfortable.  Sometimes I need to wait for His direction and act.  Sometimes I need to act when He speaks while I'm still blind.  The key is listening for His voice.  Actually, no, the key is hearing His voice, and receiving the whole message.

So, wait or not to wait.  How do I know?  Do I attempt to discover His will by trying various things until something works?  In the military we called that "recon by fire" where we would direct fire into an area where we suspect the enemy might be hiding.  Sometimes we would hit them, but most of the time we didn't.  Either way, we didn't loose a soldier.  Is that the way my Master wants me to find His will?  It doesn't seem so from this passage.  Perhaps I should put away my "guns" and make myself comfortable in the gallery outside the Throne Room of the King of Kings; read a book, drink coffee, pace the floor, I know the drill.

The Righteous Request for Proof?

Then he believed in the LORD; and He reckoned it to him as righteousness.  And He said to him, "I am the LORD who brought you out of Ur of the Chaldeans, to give you this land to possess it."  He said, "O Lord GOD, how may I know that I will possess it?"  So He said to him, "Bring Me a three year old heifer, and a three year old female goat, and a three year old ram, and a turtledove, and a young pigeon."  Then he brought all these to Him and cut them in two, and laid each half opposite the other; but he did not cut the birds.  The birds of prey came down upon the carcasses, and Abram drove them away.  Now when the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell upon Abram; and behold, terror and great darkness fell upon him.  God said to Abram, "Know for certain that your descendants will be strangers in a land that is not theirs, where they will be enslaved and oppressed four hundred years.  "But I will also judge the nation whom they will serve, and afterward they will come out with many possessions.  "As for you, you shall go to your fathers in peace; you will be buried at a good old age.  "Then in the fourth generation they will return here, for the iniquity of the Amorite is not yet complete."  It came about when the sun had set, that it was very dark, and behold, there appeared a smoking oven and a flaming torch which passed between these pieces.  On that day the LORD made a covenant with Abram, saying, "To your descendants I have given this land, From the river of Egypt as far as the great river, the river Euphrates: (Genesis 15:6-18)

Abram has just had his belief credited to him as righteousness by the Creator of the heavens and the earth.  The statements of God continue, and Abram asks, "How may I know that I will possess it?"  How may I know?  Show me a sign.  Prove it.  Things I would consider gutsy to ask of God.  Abram's just been credited with righteousness for belief, so did he just use up his credit?


It seems that God doesn't have a problem with the question, and proceeds to provide the proof.  It is an odd way to do it for our culture, but essentially what God does is bind Himself in a Suzerain Treaty.  What He has said with the divided carcasses is that, "If I don't make good on my promise, may this happen to Me."  God would be destroyed, laid in half, before He would break this promise.


But when I consider the One making this promise and binding Himself to it in such a dramatic fashion, I understand better the sense of verse 12, "Now when the sun was going down, a deep sleep fell upon Abram; and behold, terror and great darkness fell upon him."  God had arrived.  The One forming stars and laying out the patterns for quarks shows up.  Unimaginable awesome and utterly destructive Presence emerges into His creation, clothed in darkness to preserve His servant, but the terror remains.


This was not some earthly king laying out victims of his latest battle for those who remain to walk between; binding them to a covenant of servitude.  This is the King of Kings moving between the victims.  The smoking oven and flaming torch passing between the divide carcasses seems to bind Him to Abram, as if Abram is the king, and God serves Abram.  


How does my "theology of God" incorporate this concept?  How does this not threaten or negate the "Sovereignty of God"?  How is it that the Maker of all Matter will bind Himself to one of His human creatures in such a fashion and not give up His status and place as Ruler of all?  Who is this Abram that he should witness such a thing, preserve such a story?  And why would it be recorded, inspired by the One binding Himself?  This is something that the King of Kings wants me to know about Him.


One reconciliation that I can make between this event and the Sovereignty of God is that the King of Kings binds Himself to His promise rather than Abram.  Yet, the form of this event matches the form of such treaties among men, and that is not the case for them.  Did Abram understand this as his God binding Himself to a promise or to Abram?


I believe God bound Himself to the promise, and that Abram understood this.  Here's why: After this, Abram continues to submit himself to his God as Lord.  He doesn't change his view and understand God as submitting to him.  Secondly, Abram asked how he would know the promise would be fulfilled, and this is the answer God provides.  The connection would make sense to him as an answer to his question.


So why does my Master want me to know this about Himself?  Does He still do this?  Does He still bind Himself to His promises?  From this account, and others, I believe that the King of Kings, my Master, still considers Himself bound to His promises.  I believe that my Master would cease to exist  before He would break a promise.  I can be more sure of Him and His promises than of the sunrise, even the one I witness now.  Though I can see His creation, He is more sure and trustworthy than what I see.  I believe.  Perhaps that will be credited to my account like Abram's.

Belief Clubbing: A Bad Habit Gone?

One of my struggles while in vocational ministry was heeding the line between what was my opinion and what was my Master’s perspective.  I would have very high regard for my own positions and opinions, and those who did not agree with me just didn’t understand.  So I had to explain it again, change up my word-pictures, work through my limitations as a communicator, and so on.  I had two theological positions which were not in line with “everyone else” but were also not difficult to support.  I had a host of others that were not in line with everyone else, and not so easy to support.  Like positions on women in ministry, the use of dramatic spiritual gifts, post-tribulation return of my Master, just to name a few.  I had my explanations, but these were not easy to support because so much depended on minutia and prejudice.

In Galatians 5:1 Paul is wrapping up his letter moving the church back into right response to Jesus and away from legalism.  At this point he has supported the position that to relate to the Master through legalism was to be again in slavery to a master exterior to God.  Now he admonishes them to remain in freedom, and not return to that yoke of slavery.  Since the context is about legalistic practice and using that practice to justify spiritual claims, it really does apply beautifully to the problem I suffered in ministry.  I wanted my church to follow my beliefs about our Master.  That was fine.  But I also judged them by whether they did or not.  That was not fine.

I was used to being judged regarding beliefs, and still am.  In fact, I rather get too much perverse joy out of messing with the belief structures of other believers.  Go ahead, bring it on, let’s talk about it!  But when I realized I had flipped the table around and was feeling spiritually superior and that others were less because of differences in belief structures I saw that I had crossed a dangerous line.  I had moved over into the judgment seat reserved for my Master; a seat I had stood before while others tried to occupy it.  I should have known better, but acted as if I did not.  It was a poor example of leadership to tell my people to stop judging me and judging them for judging me and for not subscribing to my fringe theological beliefs.

Now, there is a remote possibility that my fringe positions may be right.  But the only way to really know is for my Master to return physically to this world.  At that point, it really won’t matter much if I was right or not.  This story will be over at that point, and a new one begun.  So, why would I think it made sense to focus and judge according to such beliefs?  If the only “proof” is in how the story ends, why would that be such a sticking point.  That may seem like I’m throwing out way too much, but consider this detail I have omitted.  The people with whom I disagreed also believed that Jesus was the Son of God, that He entered this world (which He created) through a virgin-birth, that He lived a perfect sinless in this world, allowed His creatures to take His life to pay a death penalty for their sin, that He was raised on the third day, that He ascended back into heaven, and that He will return one day.  On that we agreed.  It becomes obvious when that detail is added, that we had more in agreement than in dispute.  So why focus on the silly, unimportant details?

My hope is that I now do not hold the fee of others to fire in order to convince them that I am right, and they are wrong.  I hope I now admit more often that I am wrong when I’m wrong, which is more often than I like to admit, but I should (yes, that was an intentional verbal loop).  I am not convinced that I admit that nearly enough, that I have not idolized my ideas to some degree, that I do not judge others by my standards.  But I am more aware of it when I fail in this area.  I am more accepting of others (while not necessarily of their views).  I jump into these discussions less than I used to and with less intensity.  I am more aware of my Master now than I have been.  And I am aware that He is changing me in spite of my fighting Him on that change.

I know that my Master loves me, that He has my back, and that I am supposed to be at His service.  I know that He has called me to wait, worship, and walk before Him.  I have confessed Him as my Master, and believe in my heart that He has risen from death.  I live out, day to day, that belief to varying degrees of success.  I am a common, typical believer in many respects.  I hope that one day I will be able to relax into my various fringe beliefs, and let others wrestle with their own without feeling I need to bludgeon them with mine.  Perhaps when I am confined to a comfy rocking chair, blanket over my knees, spectacles on my nose, and a sleepy hound at my feet (oh, and a porch, the scene definitely requires a porch).

Oswald Chambers' "My Utmost For His Highest": May 6th.

Living in Belief From Enlightenment Past

There are times when I have lucid moments with my Master.  He shows me something and I get it, I see it, it makes sense, and I get excited (because they’re rare).  What Chambers writes about here is making use of those times to act on that experience on the way down or out of it.  I should not be amazed at how often that I fail exactly at that point.  I am so shocked to be in the moment, it fades before I act and then I don’t act since it passed. 

I have had some very lucid moments, and I have had times of semi-lucidness, and so on.  But the common element to each of them is the sense of truth.  I would have a revelation of something new (to me) about my Master, or about my relationship with Him, or insight about needs of those around me.  While in ministry, it was easy to act on them, since that was expected.  Now it is unusual, and somewhat disruptive, possibly embarrassing or vulnerable.  But those times, since they are from my Master, are also calls to action.  Chambers is exactly right there.  The passage he uses is John 12:36, and this passage follows the resurrection of Lazarus after being dead over three days.  The people around Jerusalem want to see the One who raised Lazarus.  The Elders want to kill Jesus and Lazarus.

While on His way into Jerusalem, the Father speaks audibly in response to Jesus, Greeks seek Him, and He speaks of the sort of death He will suffer.  John makes the comment that though Jesus had performed this sign of raising Lazarus, they still did not believe in Him.  Jesus says to them, “While you have the light believe the light.”  The light, one of several thematic references in John, will be leaving; and with Him, an opportunity, a “kyretic” moment will pass.  The people have an opportunity to respond to Jesus as their Master, but they are to tightly married to their desire for a political king.  They can see only as far as their subservience to Rome, not their slavery to sin.  This is me.

When I get so distracted by my woes at work, am I any different than these souls who witnessed the death of the Creator?  When I lose my cool driving eight miles in traffic, am I better off or clearer of vision than they were?  How about when I get angry with my daughter because she was mean to me instead of using that as a teachable moment to calmly provide guiding consequences?  Or when I am sarcastic or cynical with my wife over some meaningless comment or action, am I still in touch with the amazing revelation of grace of my Master?  Does the reality of the Savior with which I have been provided sink below my conscious into the fiber of my personality?  When I am by myself, no one sees what I do, I feel the tendrils of my old behavior and I wish for it, whether I give in or not, that I wish for it shames me!  Jesus loves me, He has my back, and I am at His service.  Yet when I do these things, I stand over His cross, hammer and spike in hand, ready to add another stroke to his pain.

What do I believe, and what do I do, and do they match?  What light have I been given, and is it fading?  And when it fades, what will I do then?  Will I believe still, will I act as if it’s true, and will I continue to obey?  Or will my actions, thoughts, behaviors, and attitudes look more like those who live as if there is no Savior except themselves?  Even now, thoughts move through my mind, memories of things I have seen, things I have done.  Even as I pray in electronic form, my mind still is not clean.  What light do I have, and will I believe while I have it?  Perhaps the term I need to adopt is becoming a “Son bather” and soak up the light of the Son.  I hope for a fourth degree burn to the bone from light of His face, so He can rebuild me from the core in the form He desires.  Wow, sounds painful; like being crucified (Ephesians 2:20).

Oswald Chambers' "My Utmost For His Highest": April 16th.