Month: January 2025

The following meditation was written by Dr. Michael B. Brown.

Matthew 14:13, “When Jesus heard about John, he withdrew in a boat to a deserted place by himself.” Matthew 14:13 (Common English Bible)

An out-of-state tourist in Florida was fishing in a marshy inlet when his small boat capsized. Hanging onto the side of it, the man feared there would be alligators in the inlet and his life would be at risk. He cried out to an old fisherman on the shore, “Help me! Please! The alligators will attack me.” The old guy didn’t even look up. He just called back, “There ain’t no gators in this inlet. There used to be, but they’re all gone now.” With that, the fisherman relaxed. The sun and water were warm. He decided to enjoy it and did a slow, lazy backstroke toward land. Growing curious, once more he shouted to the man on the shore and asked, “What did you do to get rid of the alligators?” Again without looking up, the old man answered, “We didn’t do anything. The sharks ate `em.”

Daily life with its rapid pace, incessant demands, strains and stresses sometimes makes us feel like we’re surrounded by sharks. Financial crises. Relational estrangements. Health concerns. Social pressures. Guilt. Grief. Loneliness. The expectations of others that seem impossible to fulfill. There is no magic wand to wave that can make it all disappear. So, how do we cope with our pressure-laden reality? How do we survive the sharks in our waters?

When the stresses of the moment and the needs of the masses bore down upon Jesus, scripture says “He withdrew … to a deserted (solitary or quiet) place.” (Matthew 14:13) He didn’t run away from life, but he did retreat long enough to “restore his soul.” (Psalm 23:3) He understood that in order to continue pushing forward with strength and effectiveness, sometimes temporarily we have to pull back just to breathe.

Norman Vincent Peale used to tell a story about his close friend, Desi Arnaz. Both as a  performer and, especially, as head of Desilu Productions, Arnaz’ responsibilities were mammoth. He told Dr. Peale that one way he coped with that was to slip away from time to time to a small house on the Pacific coast. He would take off his watch as soon as he entered and not put it back on till he left. While there, he ate when he was hungry and slept when he was tired. Otherwise, he would bathe himself in solitude and silence, watch sunrises and sunsets, and give his mind a chance to rest. He said he always returned home with renewed energy and deepened creativity. “He withdrew … to a quiet place.” We all need that. For you it may be reading, quilting, biking, hiking, gardening, golfing, swimming, fishing, museums, movies, or a host of other things that restore your soul. You cannot outswim the sharks if you are weary. You cannot be of significant help to anyone else if you are exhausted. That’s the reason The Ten Commandments include the instruction to set aside personal time for sabbath (rest). “He withdrew … to a quiet place.” If Jesus needed it, so do we. Take care of you. It’s the only way there will be enough you left to take good care of anyone or anything else.

Joy,

“‘Come to me, all you who are struggling hard and carrying heavy loads, and I will give you rest. Put on my yoke, and learn from me. I’m gentle and humble. And you will find rest for yourselves.’” Matthew 11:28, 29 (Common English Bible)

There is a saying among pastors that in every congregation a third of the people are in a crisis, a third of the people are coming out of a crisis, and a third of the people are about to go into a crisis. If you are not in a crisis, chances are, there is something out in front of you heading your way. Anxiety and uncertainty seem to mark the countenance of many people today. Everywhere there is evidence of a certain strain—exhaustion from struggling to carry more than one person can reasonably bear. Attempting to face challenges that are beyond our strength, people move with fear, the wrinkle of worry etched deeply in their faces. Absent are the rest, the assurance, and the strength available in the person of Jesus Christ.

We require the stimulus of companionship with Jesus—the restful realization of God’s presence and care for us. Such rest is offered here by Jesus, “Come to me . . . I will give you rest.” This rest is always a gift. It is not earned. This rest comes as the fruit of a relationship. It is not from our labor. It is an immediate gift but its value is continuously experienced as we probe deeply into the riches of the relationship with Jesus. Much as falling in love, there are continually rich discoveries that are uncovered and realized as the relationship grows deeper, is explored, and cherished. The invitation to, “Come to me” prepares for, and actually leads to, the second part of the invitation, “Learn from me.”

Author, and teacher, Richard Foster once declared that if you are too busy to read, you are too busy.[1] Similarly, if we are too busy to spend time each day with God, to read the Bible and devotional literature, to “learn of Jesus,” then we are too busy. Each day is then powered by our own strength, which, eventually, becomes exhausted. Writers cannot write from exhaustion. Musicians perform poorly without adequate rest. Those who fight experience defeat without the replenishment received from time off on the battlefield. Woven into the fabric of God’s good creation is the “seventh day” that is for rest and simply knowing God. Jesus asks that we learn from him that the gift of rest might be fully experienced.

Instead of living with aimlessness and exhaustion as though we were on our own, Jesus invites us to a sure and restful intimacy with him. A person who comes to Jesus and spends time in that relationship—learning from Jesus—discovers someone whose strength and force are tremendous! Such people move through the darkest storms of life with apparent ease. But it is the ease that is linked with the infinite—the very God who created all there is. Such people possess spiritual energy rather than manifest symptoms of panic. They recognize the wealth and power of allies in God and face the difficulties of life with restful assurance. “Come to me” invites Jesus, and we will be distinguished from the world. We will have rest.

Joy

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[1] Foster, Richard J., Freedom of Simplicity, New York: Harper Collins, 1981, 160.

“But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength; they will fly up on wings like eagles; they will run and not be tired; they will walk and not be weary.”

Isaiah 40: 31 (Common English Bible)

J. H. Jowett offers a fresh hearing of this singular verse of Scripture from the prophecy of Isaiah—that “hope in the Lord” is not merely a passive activity but one of active intimacy with God.[i] As with a relationship with a spouse or a dear friend, intimacy moves deeper than a mere acquaintance. Intimacy reflects continued growth in a relationship, resulting in the capacity to “know the mind, the thoughts, and desires” of the other. It isn’t unusual for intimate friends to complete the sentences of the other. Nor is it unusual for one spouse to sense when the other is troubled though no words have been spoken. These riches of intimacy are not available with an acquaintance. Isaiah wants Israel—and us—to know that God is directly attentive when weakness and powerlessness seek to intrude in our lives. When our energy is depleted, God supplies strength. Yet, that strength flows through the aqueduct of intimacy with God. Such a channel is absent with a meager acquaintance.

The promise in this teaching of Isaiah is that those who “hope in the Lord” will find a marvelous addition to their resources. God is the difference. Those who lack intimacy with God are on their own. They will become depleted. Those who regularly cultivate intimacy with God find energy and power flowing into them. It is either weakness or God. Or, as Isaiah further develops, we will be flightless or be endowed with the wings like eagles and soar into the heights—soar to places above our present difficulty and exhaustion. Taken at face value, to be endowed with wings like eagles is real equipment! Imagine when we have spotted an eagle soaring high above. Collapsed into that singular experience is strength, and majesty, and awe. That is ours when we “Hope in the Lord!” New power, immeasurable capacity, and a buoyancy over what is below. As Walter Brueggemann so strikingly imagines, “The very God taken to be obsolete is the one who governs and gives strength, who makes it possible for life to be taken up again.”[ii]

The question, then, is one of intimacy; how might we pursue such intimacy with God that we might “fly up on wings like eagles” in moments when we are depleted? That answer is no different than building intimacy with a spouse or a friend—we spend time with God, through prayer, and pay attention to God. Early in my relationship with my wife I learned she liked yellow roses more than any other color. I also learned that she doesn’t particularly care for red roses. Whenever I am grocery shopping and pass the floral department, I look for yellow roses. If they are particularly beautiful, I purchase them for my wife. There need not be an occasion such as a birthday or anniversary. I simply purchase them for her because I find every moment with her to be extraordinary. And I want to bring her delight. I know she likes yellow roses because, when I am with her, I pay attention to her. Prayer is paying attention to God. And time with God is both speaking and listening—sharing deeply with God and listening deeply for God.

Here, in this teaching from Isaiah, is the promise of a strong and joyful life. A life that is not defeated when our personal strength, our personal stamina is depleted. The management our own resources is inadequate.  Isaiah invites us to a relationship with God that is transformative. An intimacy with God endows us with the power to rise above things rather than being held in bondage to them.  A focus on difficult circumstances quickly depletes a woman or a man. But when we direct our focus to God, God renews our strength. Available resources are multiplied. Our life takes flight as wings lift an eagle and we soar above our present difficulty. The difficulty may remain but as we take flight and rise above it, we see the difficulty in proportion to all our life. The difficulty becomes “right sized”.  A difficulty from the ground may appear titanic. Viewed from the heights where eagles fly, they appear so much smaller. What a view God offers us! Isaiah declares that those who hope in the Lord shall have this!

Joy,

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[i] J. H. Jowett, The Silver Lining: Messages of Hope and Cheer (London and Edinburgh: Fleming H. Revell Company, 1907) 136.

[ii] Walter Brueggemann, Isaiah 40-66: Westminster Bible Companion (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 1998) 28.

“I was given a thorn in my body.” 2 Corinthians 12:7(Common English Bible)

Few things are as unfortunate as to see a woman or man losing heart and all sense of hope, drifting into apathy, and finally despair. When a sense of defeat is permitted to take residence in life, frustration and inaction are too frequently the results. The face becomes sullen, the head is held low, and the shoulders sag. Bitterness grows, the result of an erroneous belief that life has dealt a raw deal or that others have received better opportunities. Left unchecked, the self-pity sentences them to low levels of achievement. A strange comfort is found in simply giving up—experiencing a certain allure of being defeated.

History is replete with men and women who have experienced hardship, anguished over setbacks, and struggled with handicaps—physical, mental, and emotional. Anyone of them may have been resentful and rebellious—and many have—with bad behavior the consequence. Yet, there are others who rise above the circumstances of their lives, press forward with unbelievable determination and consecrate their lives to the service of others. The apostle Paul stands among them. Paul moved through life hindered by “a thorn in the body” but produced nearly two-thirds of our New Testament.

Rather than giving up and accepting defeat, Paul labored under his handicap. Naturally, Paul—like any of us—preferred that the handicap be corrected, the difficulty removed. On three occasions Paul asked the Lord for this. But the handicap remained; the thorn wasn’t removed. But Paul’s prayers were answered. “My grace is enough for you,” answered God. With God’s answer, Paul committed himself to do the very best he could do with what he had. His life and ministry were a vessel of hope for everyone he encountered. To his children, Theodore Roosevelt continually cultivated a hopeful disposition—and in doing so charged the atmosphere of his home with hope.

Paul sought to demonstrate in his life that there is no limitation, no misfortune, no burden of sorrow, suffering, or loss that the human spirit cannot rise above. He endured much of each. But Paul went deeper than self-discipline and self-determination. Paul triumphed over it all because he sought God. Perhaps this was the finest message that Paul left the church—that when the allure of defeat tempts the heart Paul calls us to that deeper place where our life is open to the grace and power of Almighty God.

Joy,

“Be still, and know that I am God!

 Psalm 46:10 (New Revised Standard Version)

I have been married for nearly 38 years. Throughout each of those years, I have found every moment with my wife to be extraordinary, even when we have nothing to say to one another.  Walking quietly, holding hands, or traveling together on a Sunday drive, words are not necessary. I am with the love of my life, and that transforms every moment into an extraordinary moment. Just yesterday evening, Grace and I enjoyed dinner at my favorite restaurant, Houston’s. During a large portion of the meal, we did not speak. We both were taking delight in being in a beautiful restaurant, enjoying one of our favorite meals, and simply looking at one another. It was enough. Words were not necessary. Grace and I were together—alone. As I look back over our 38 years together, I am aware that each of those quiet moments together nurtured our relationship perhaps more deeply than conversation.

A common obstacle to prayer is that too much importance is placed upon speaking. Prayers of intercession for others, prayers of gratitude for blessings experienced, or prayers for our own needs are encouraged in the Bible. Each of them flows from the lips of the disciples. Each flows from the lips of our Lord, Jesus. Yet, pay attention to the teaching of Luke 6:12, “Now during those days he went out to the mountain to pray; and he spent the night in prayer to God” (NRSV). It is difficult to believe that all that time in prayer was filled with Jesus speaking. Prayer also involves listening; listening to God through hunches, nudges, and insight. People who are unpracticed in prayer often believe that no prayer is being offered unless they are speaking all the time. They miss the value of quietly listening to God or enjoying moments of God’s presence as I quietly enjoy my wife’s presence.   

During my college studies in Coventry, England, I asked one of my instructors, a clergy of Coventry Cathedral, about his practice of prayer. He shared that each morning, he would spend approximately one hour in prayer. He would read a story from one of the gospels and then sit with that story—sit with the story, listening to what God may be sharing with him that day through that story. It would be a wordless prayer. It is through this practice of prayer that he credits his strongest growth as a disciple. On another occasion, I asked a businessman about his daily practice of prayer. He worked in Manhattan, so he would enjoy a quick sandwich at lunch break and then go into one of the large churches in the city and fix his gaze upon a stained-glass window. For thirty minutes, he would sit silently, his attention focused on one portion of the window, listening for God to speak to him.

Silence before God presents an opportunity to get a new perspective on things. When grief, disappointment, or fear rob us of words, silence before God becomes the most powerful prayer. Our devotion is not dependent upon words. Often, when I experience the need to pray and words fail to show up, I will ask the Holy Spirit to search my heart and make a prayer on my behalf. It is then that I am confident that an articulate prayer is received by God. Psalm 46 is a specific call to Israel to desist from busy activity that seeks to protect them from an enemy. It is a call to attend to God’s presence in silence. It is then that Israel becomes aware, once again, of God’s presence that looms over them. It is an awareness that cannot be known when our mouths or hands are occupied. Simply sitting in the presence of a God who knows our hearts and loves us will be enough.

Joy,