Author: firstdelray

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Religious

The Christian Way of Life

“Rejoice always. Pray continually. Give thanks in every situation because this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” 1 Thessalonians 5:16–18 (Common English Bible)

CliffsNotes is a series of study guides in pamphlet form. Great works of literature and other works are redacted—or condensed—to present a larger work in a more accessible form for a quick perusal of the material. Some use CliffsNotes to determine if a large work is something they want to invest the time in savoring the entire volume. Others, usually students preparing for an exam, simply want the facts. In these three brief verses from Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians, Paul provides the CliffsNotes to the Christian way of life. In three rapid movements, God’s will for us is presented: we are to be a people who rejoice always, who pray continually, and who give thanks in every situation. Paul met with this young congregation only a few times before writing this letter, yet he has developed a deep affection for them—“like a nursing mother caring for her own children” (1 Thessalonians 2:7b)—and longs that they grow strong in these three common shared experiences.

What does it mean to “rejoice always?” When my son, Nathanael, turned five years old, his mother and I threw him a birthday party. Half a dozen of his friends were invited and, as traditional birthdays go, birthday presents were presented and opened before cutting the birthday cake. Opening one gift, Nathanael’s eyes grew wide with joy, and, looking intently at the toy, exclaimed with delight, “It’s what I have always wanted! What is it?” Knowing what the gift is or the function of the gift was not important. Something greater was going on. Nathanael was surrounded by people who loved him, who cared to show up for his birthday, and even now were celebrating him. There was a party going on, and Nathanael was at the center of it all! Paul’s entire ministry is an announcement that God has shown up for us and is active in all things. Though there will be much in life we don’t understand, God stands with us in all life’s circumstances. That is an occasion for rejoicing always!

To pray continually is not every moment but constantly, repeatedly, as an acknowledgment that God is standing right with us. Richard Rohr tells us that St. Francis used to spend whole nights praying the same prayer: “Who are you, O God, and who am I?” Rohr asks that we notice that St. Francis is not stating anything, is not sure of anything, but is just asking open-ended questions.[1] This is the prayer that Paul speaks of when he instructs us to pray continually. The continual notice that God is God, whatever that may mean, and that we are not, is humbling. Such prayer—a constant awareness of a God of infinite mystery—diminishes any notion that we are large enough or strong enough to face life on our own. There is tremendous freedom in that! We are not alone in this journey we call life. Whatever may come in our future is not solely dependent upon us. The great object of prayer is to get home to God even when we fail to receive from God compliance for what we ask.

Paul concludes his summary of the Christian life asking that we give thanks in every situation. The careful eye will distinguish between “give thanks in every situation” and “give thanks for every situation.” Even the smallest child has experienced enough to realize that life throws some things at us that one cannot reasonably be thankful for. What Paul is asking us is that a life that has mastered rejoicing always and praying continually is a life that knows there is more to come—that any hardship, any loss, or any suffering fails to have the last word. God is present in each moment of our life and continually seeks our good. God has determined in the resurrection of Jesus Christ to have the last word for us. It is a word of life abundant with God for eternity. William James writes, “The greatest discovery of my generation is that people can alter their lives by altering their attitudes of mind.”[2] Paul asks that we alter our lives simply by relinquishing control over our outcomes in life and approach all situations with a grateful heart that God moves us forward—even through the darkest shadows. Here, writes Paul, is the sum of the Christian life.

Joy,

[1] Rohr, Richard. Yes, And . . . Daily Meditations. Cincinnati: Franciscan Media, 1997, 102.

[2] Nightingale, Earl. Successful Living in a Changing World, Shippensberg: Sound Wisdom, 2021, 174.

Categories
Religious

Be Strong, Love Deeply

“Don’t fear, because I am with you; don’t be afraid, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, I will surely help you; I will hold you with my righteous strong hand.”

Isaiah 41:10 (Common English Bible)

We live our lives with a sense of the gravity of our times. The Bible speaks of war, and the rumor of war, and there is an unsettling awareness that these words are timeless, words that are as true today as they were when they were written. Politicians rise to power, as they have since the days of scripture, and, on occasion, some generate hatred and fear rather than a leadership of wisdom and courage for meeting the challenges of the day. Health can be fleeting. Just last week, a sixty-four-year-old man—a professional trainer in peek physical shape—fell down a flight of stairs; his head impacted a marble floor and slipped away. His wife speaks to the hospital chaplain about her anticipated retirement without a husband and now questions what is ahead for her. Uncertainty and fear are never very far from any one of us. Though both are part of the human experience and cannot be avoided, we can be paralyzed. Taken from us is the capacity to manage and master fear. The result is that we are wrecked by it.

These words from Isaiah shape a holy discourse from God to a people who are fearful. Paralysis has seized them. Such fear has overshadowed life with the result that all hope vanishes. It is a fear that robs the people of memory—a memory that they belong to a God that has been faithful in the past and remains faithful now. This discourse, this address to Israel follows a full and reassuring reminder of a past that included God. God established a peculiar relation with Israel that is governed, writes Walter Brueggemann, by the positive “chosen” and the negative “not cast off.” “The entire memory of Israel is mobilized in this moment in order to assure the exiles that this guaranteed relationship still operates and is decisive for the present and for the future.”[i] This address provides the basis for a movement beyond fear to trust. God asserts, “I am with you, I am your God, I will strengthen you, I will surely help you, I will hold you.” Israel is not alone in a world that rumors of war, evil politicians, and fleeting health.

These decisive words of God are a clarion call for the church to speak; to speak in a climate of fear and a sense of abandonment. If the church fails to speak at such a time of crisis, the church is an empty and hollow thing. The words suggested by God’s purposeful, strong verbs are “Be Strong, Love Deeply!” They capture the strength of God’s massive intervention in our lives that dissolves fear and replaces it with love. As we experience the unseen arms of God’s strength, we are then able to love others who are fearful, to give release to God’s love as it flows through us to others. Strength upon strength is released into the world as the subject of our fears dissolve and become as nothing. Brueggemann shares, “History is everywhere filled with examples of powers that evaporate when they run amuck of Yahweh’s (God) intention for well-being in the world.”[ii] Many crave to live in a world of certainty, free of fear. That is not the world we have been given, nor would such a world require a God. Ours is a world that asks that we rely upon God alone.

How might fear be managed and mastered? Three possibilities are suggested by this speech from God. First, acknowledge that many of our fears may be traced directly to self-interest. Fear is putting ourselves first. Discomfort is unpleasant, and we seek a remedy, an antidote, or a solution that drives the cause of fear away. We are much too wrapped up in ourselves. But God never promised many of the things we seek, such as our own comfort and material security. What is promised is that God accompanies us in life. We are not alone. Jesus taught that we are to deny ourselves first. It is only then that we can follow where God wants to take us. God first, others second, ourselves last. Second, spread out your fears before God in prayer. This example was provided by Jesus on the night he was betrayed. Following that prayer, Jesus was strengthened. Third, school ourselves that we are in God’s hands, “I will hold you with my righteous strong hand.” Anxiety will then diminish, and our life will become a comfort and strength to others who are fearful.

[i] Walter Brueggemann, Westminster Bible Companion: Isaiah 40-66 (Louisville, Kentucky: Westminster John Knox Press, 1998) 33.

[ii] IBID, 34.

Categories
Religious

To Those Defeated

“After his deep anguish he will see light, and he will be satisfied.”

Isaiah 53:11 (Common English Bible)

These words are spoken by God. They are spoken of someone who has hit a brick wall. Someone who is defeated. Like many of us, there exists a pervasive sense that if they failed once, they most certainly would fail again. They are not alone. It is likely many of us have experienced defeat following a failure—a defeat that whispers in our ear that we are not enough, that the failure is an assessment of our worthiness. Fear takes up residence inside of us and results in a lack of willingness to try something again. Such a position of the heart, a will to surrender when things get hard and avoid at all costs further failure results in a defeated life. Right here in Isaiah, God promises that the deep anguish of failure may seem like the end, but it is not. When life appears to have reached its end, we are not abandoned. God’s will for each of us is that we prosper. “He will see light, and he will be satisfied.”

Robert T. Kiyosaki writes, “Failure is part of the process of success. People who avoid failure also avoid success.”[i] This is one of the great lessons of history. In science, we think of Thomas Edison, who, following failure after failure, did succeed in inventing the light bulb. In politics, we think of Abraham Lincoln, who met multiple failures, and lost election upon election, before being elected to the United States Presidency. Professional sports are replete with stories of athletes who refused to give up, and because of their refusal to be defined by failure, embraced victory. Each one was driven by failure to continually improve, to do better the next time, until success was theirs. They are unconcerned with impressing anyone, do not worry about being perceived as a failure by other people. One person matters, and only one. That is themselves. Failure is not the end but the beginning. The journey may be long, but they refuse to accept anything but success.

Naturally, refusal to accept defeat demands personal responsibility. Deliberate attention to the particulars of any failure provides guidance on what to change, a recalibration of approach, an expansion of methods, and further development of skill. We may not initially understand the reason for our defeats, but we are responsible for the way we carry our defeats. God promises here in Isaiah that we will be satisfied. But we must be a participant; we must play our part. God holds us responsible for cooperating with God’s work in our lives. Membership in a gym and securing a personal trainer have no power to transform us physically without our participation. Nor is God a genie that grants our wishes apart from our engagement, our struggle, and our consent to join in God’s activity in our lives. Nothing tests us more than our response to failure. The way we take failure is a test of life. It is nothing to fail. It is tragic to surrender to it.

Defeated by Life (1922)
by Leopoldo de Almeida (1898-1974)

Finally, the promise of satisfaction is much richer than grasping victory, of realizing success in our endeavor. The biblical story of God’s engagement with God’s people bears witness to the truth that defeat increases the value of life. Moses’ forty years in the wilderness was not easy. Moses experiences defeat in his leadership with God’s people. Recall the people who chose to worship a golden calf during the long absence of Moses. The people of Israel experienced defeat. Remember the loss of hope in God’s future for them and a desire to return to Egypt. Every struggle, every disappointment, every defeat was matched by a fresh encounter of God’s grace, God’s patience, and God’s power. Each developed in Moses and the people a stronger relationship with God. In defeat, values were deepened, a nation was made braver, and a relationship with God was taken to a new level. As Israel entered the promised land, satisfaction was theirs.

Joy,

[i] Amy Morin, 13 Things Mentally Strong People Don’t Do. (New York, NY, William Morrow: An Imprint of HarperCollins Publishers, 2017)180.

Categories
Religious

Gratitude Begins with God

The following meditation is from Dr. Doug Hood’s upcoming book: A Month of Prayer & Gratitude: Five-Minute Meditations for a Deeper Experience of Gratitude.

“Though the fig tree doesn’t bloom, and there’s no produce on the vine; though the olive crop withers, and the fields don’t provide food; though the sheep is cut off from the pen, and there is no cattle in the stalls; I will rejoice in the Lord. I will rejoice in the God of my deliverance.” Habakkuk 3:17, 18 (Common English Bible)

In our nation’s ritual observance of Thanksgiving Day, we are summoned to express gratitude for what we have. We may have little when measured against our neighbor, but we are, nonetheless, called to acknowledge what we do have and express gratitude. We know the story, the origin of this national holiday well. English immigrants—later to be called Pilgrims—sailed by accident into Cape Cod harbor, staked their claim upon the land, and named it New Plymouth. These immigrants, these Pilgrims, labored hard working the land, fought disease, and defended themselves against every threat this strange new frontier presented. Life produced struggle upon struggle. But they persisted. Then, in 1621, the harvest exceeded every expectation. To celebrate their good fortune, a harvest festival was held to which they invited the native Americans who occupied the land first.

As a child, I would be reminded by my mother and father that Thanksgiving Day was an occasion to “count my blessings.” As I consider this instruction, it seems to me that there is nothing wrong with a regular habit of doing so—counting my blessings. I have provided the same guidance to my children. Focusing on what I have versus what I don’t have is a mindset that must be intentional. For some reason, I find that many of us have a default setting to do just the opposite. Many days, I am caught up in complaints—usually in silence. I don’t have enough, whatever “enough” may be. If I dwell there long enough, I grow convinced that I have been cheated. If you have traveled this same route, you know it is an unpleasant journey. Then, I am reminded of the wisdom taught me so many years ago—count my blessings, regardless of how meager those blessings may be.

The difficulty with this Scripture from the minor prophet, Habakkuk, is that it seems to invite us in the opposite direction. At first blush, this seems to be a well-rehearsed complaint: the fig tree doesn’t bloom, and there’s no produce on the vine, and on and on. Sounds familiar, like a child who is struggling through a difficult day. The only difference between the child and the adult is that many adults have learned restraint. We feel as strongly as the child about what we don’t have, but we have learned to keep our lips sealed. Our lips may conceal what is on our hearts, but rarely is it a secret to others. When our lips are sealed, our general continence betrays us. Others see our dissatisfaction, our annoyance, our general selfishness. Then, as we are reading the Bible, we stumble upon these words from Habakkuk. Permission granted for making our complaint! Or so it seems until we keep reading.

We are jolted by a speed bump in verse 18. After a considerable complaint, the prophet Habakkuk concludes with gratitude! A bleak and depressing picture is painted for us and is then completed with, “I will rejoice in the Lord. I will rejoice in the God of my deliverance.” It appears that someone has confused the lyrics of one song, a song of complaint, with the lyrics of another song, a song of gratitude. One doesn’t follow another, not smoothly anyway. Failure and loss move rather quickly to a celebration of hope and confidence. How does the prophet explain this disjointed movement? It may be that we have gratitude all wrong. Perhaps gratitude doesn’t begin with what we have. Perhaps gratitude doesn’t even begin with us. If we lean into the pages of this prophet, what we learn is that gratitude begins with God, with God’s fidelity, and that we are included in God’s redemption. Gratitude begins when we realize we belong to God.

Joy,

Categories
Religious

God’s Apparent Inattention to Prayer

The following meditation is from Doug Hood’s upcoming book: A Month of Prayer & Gratitude: Five-Minute Meditations for a Deeper Experience of Gratitude.

“How long will you forget me, Lord? Forever? How long will you hide your face from me?” Psalm 13:1 (Common English Bible)

The critic Guy Davenport wrote that translation is a game of two languages, and that “the translator is in constant danger of inventing a third that lies between.”[1] The language of the Christian faith is often characterized as one where God is responsive to prayer. The language of lived experience suggests that, on occasion, God is inattentive to prayer. What is the translator to do—how does a person of faith translate a “responsive God” to the occasional experience of an “inattentive God?” Often, the translation—or explanation—is that the prayer lacked sufficient faith or that the prayer failed to follow some prescribed rubric or pattern. The tragic result is a third language, a God that is responsive only if the prayer has been constructed properly or is undergirded by an unwavering and sturdy faith. The third language is unrecognizable to the people of the Bible, particularly the psalmist. It is a language that suggests that effective prayer is dependent upon us, not God.

Psalm 13 is the shortest of the prayers that seek help from God in the Book of Psalms. At the beginning of this prayer is a rhetorical question, “How long?” The question is asked four times in the first two verses. Information isn’t sought. A response is sought from a God that seems unresponsive. The individual who makes this prayer is in distress. An urgent neediness is presented to God, and the expectation is that God will show up and answer, consistent with the understood character of God. Excuses for God’s inattentiveness are not offered; God is not let off the hook. This is a powerful witness of refusal to inventing a third language. God is known as a responsive God. So, where are you God? As James L. Mays makes clear, “God does not help; there is no evidence of God’s attention and care. Anxiety tortures the mind with painful questions.”[2] The named experience resonates with our own when we are impatient and desperate. Our questions about God’s apparent inattention are not unfaithful.

It is important that the reader—the one who is eavesdropping on this urgent prayer—understand that the psalmist is not releasing their frustrations upon another. It isn’t unusual for the faithful to speak to another of their disappointment with God. Many times, that is the preferred approach—sharing with a friend, rather than directly to God, a disappointment or hurt with a God that seems inattentive. This seems safer, less dangerous, than a direct and frank conversation with God on such matters. What is suspended in such moments is the recognition that nothing can be kept from God. God is privileged to our conversations as well as our thoughts. Just as Adam and Eve sought to hide from God, we participate in the self-deception that we can vent our frustrations about God to another without God’s knowledge. Why risk stirring God’s anger with such a blunt approach? Here, the psalmist does. God has let them down, or so the psalmist believes. Why not an honest conversation with God?

This bold move, this courageous exercise of faith, in turning directly to a God who seems inattentive, grants permission to the reader to do the same. The psalmist’s unflinching honesty before God demonstrates a confidence in God’s love and care for the well-being of the faithful. This nervy move reminds the reader of another man of God named Job. Job never flinched before God in demanding an answer for his suffering. The answer never came to Job. Yet, in time, God does demonstrate faithfulness to Job with the return of good things. What we find in Job’s story is that the individuals who feared holding God accountable received God’s rebuke. The psalmist in this prayer doesn’t receive an answer either. What to do with God’s apparent inattentiveness? The psalmist chooses gratitude. “Yes, I will sing to the Lord because he has been good to me” (Psalm 13:6). Choosing to give up on God was not an option for this one who asks God, “How long?” Such a choice only results in a life of despair.

[1] Wood, Graeme. “The Iliad We’ve Lost,” The Atlantic, November 2023, 83.

[2] Mays, James L. Interpretation: A Bible Commentary for Teaching and Preaching, Psalms. Louisville: John Knox, 1994, 78.

Categories
Religious

Foundations

The following meditation is from Dr. Doug Hood’s upcoming book, A Month of Prayer & Gratitude: Five-Minute Meditations for a Deeper Experience of Gratitude.

“The Lord your redeemer who formed you in the womb says: I am the Lord, the maker of all, who alone stretched out the heavens, who spread out the earth by myself.”

Isaiah 44:24 (Common English Bible)

Foundations are important. In the construction of a building, a strong and reliable foundation is a primary consideration. The function of the building and its location are important matters for determining which materials are necessary. Without attending to the matter of a proper foundation, further construction becomes a foolish—and risky—enterprise. Similarly, a meaningful and purposeful life requires a sturdy foundation. The materials for such a foundation include unconditional love, encouragement, and support. But other matters are important, too! These include education or vocational training, a safe environment for failure and learning from that failure, and career guidance or mentoring. Yet, the most important matter is to know where we come from. Who are our parents? Were we adopted? What can we know of our heritage? Self-concept and identity are forged from this knowledge.

This passage from Isaiah shows that the people of Israel have lost their way. Their home, Jerusalem, has been destroyed, and they are a people in exile. Such disorientation is a poor foundation for rebuilding their future as a nation. It is in this disorientation, this emotional and spiritual place of despair and hopelessness, that the prophet Isaiah speaks. He reminds the people that they were formed in the womb by God—the same God who is the maker of all, who alone stretched out the heavens and spread out the earth. Israel, Isaiah cries, has not been left alone! And as a people who were created, fashioned, and formed by such a God, they are a people who belong. Isaiah reaffirms once again their relationship—their foundation—with their God. And it’s this relationship that has continued on throughout the ages unto this very day.

Understand, however, that we shouldn’t make the mistake of assuming that God belongs to us. Allan Hugh Cole Jr. shares a poignant metaphor he once learned that: “acting as if God somehow belongs to us can have a direct effect on prayer and faith. For example, it can lead to our viewing God as a commodity that exists primarily to serve us and our self-interests, rather than leading us to serve God and God’s interest. Moreover, we can begin treating God as ‘a cosmic Coke machine,’ such that we merely need to offer God some sort of payment (i.e., good deeds, the right prayers, acts of kindness, various sacrifices), put in our requests, and expect to receive something in return from God immediately.”[1] This incorrect notion that our relationship with God is purely transactional is a poor foundation for a faith that can navigate life’s discouragements and heartbreaks—it’s a foundation that cannot sustain us.

A life of faith and prayer that disappoints may be the product of a poorly laid foundation. Instead of seeking a relationship with God, we might pray, “God, I will give you this if you give me that.” Another poor foundation may be casting God in our own image rather than the other way around: we might depict God as an extension of ourselves, our desires, our needs, and our political ideology. We want God to see the world as we see it—we want God to be a certain way. This is a foundation that negatively impacts our prayers and shakes our faith. God does not operate under our control. As the prophet Isaiah reminds us, we belong to God. The only foundation for a robust life of prayer and faith is one where we seek to know God, God’s dreams, and God’s aspirations—it is one where we remember that God has created us and not the other way around.

Joy,

[1] Cole Jr, The Life of Prayer, 15.

Categories
Religious

Conditions of Answered Prayers

“If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask for whatever you want and it will be done for you.”

John 15:7 (Common English Bible)

Ernest Hemingway captures the deep disquiet among many who are faithful in the practice of prayer, Christians who go to their knees in prayer but quietly question just how much they can expect from God. Distressed by doubts, a lack of confidence in God’s ability—or desire—to respond to prayer plagues their practice of prayer. In his short story, The Gambler, the Nun, and the Radio, Sister Cecilia expresses her heartfelt desire to be a saint—a faithful, sincere desire that she has carried since she was a little girl. Sister Cecilia was absolutely convinced that if she renounced the world and went into the convent, she would become a saint. Now, years later, she still waits for her prayer to be fulfilled. Mr. Frazer, the protagonist of the story, responds to her, “You’ll be one. Everybody gets what they want. That’s what they always tell me.” But Sister Cecilia expresses doubt, “Now it seems almost impossible.”[1]

The great nineteenth-century preacher Phillips Brooks once addressed this common difficulty so many people have with prayer—explaining that the Gospel of John identifies two qualities shared by those who can hope to pray successfully. First, what does it mean to “remain in me.”?[2] It is a phrase that is familiar in the New Testament. To offer clarity, Brooks asks that we think of a child in their earliest years. Those are the years children are so completely absorbed or “hidden” in their parent’s life that you do not look upon them as a separate individual. They are expressions of their parent’s nature. The child’s thoughts and speech are nearly echoes of the parent. In these earliest years, we hear a child utter something, and immediately we know what has been spoken by the parents in earshot of the child. The parent acts and thinks for the child; the child acts and thinks as the parent. Similarly, we “remain” in Christ as we grow closer to Christlikeness.

The second condition of successful prayer is in the words “and my words remain in you.” This is the continual and instinctive reference of the definite, explicit teachings and commands of Christ, asserts Brooks. This second condition is not separable from the first—the first is remaining in Christ. In Christ, it is impossible to do anything, say anything, or desire anything but just what is the Lord’s will. Yet, that is incomplete, imperfect, and unreliable without some positive and definite announcement of it in our own words. Returning to the image of the child, words spoken are but echoes of what is heard. To “remain” in Christ necessarily produces the thoughts and words of Christ—a striving to full obedience to the teachings of Christ. Brooks eloquently puts it this way: the soul’s remaining in Christ makes ready to accept Jesus’ words, and then the words lead into a deeper utterance of the desires of God’s heart.

Returning to Hemingway’s short story, Sister Cecilia’s prayer for much of her life was that she might become a saint. Discouraged that the prayer remains unanswered she concludes that it may be an impossible prayer. Readers of this short story identify with her—we also have prayers that seem to remain unanswered year after year. How do we reconcile unanswered prayer with the promise that whatever we ask will be done? Perhaps the difficulty is that we jumped with hearts so eager to receive that we fail to notice the prior conditions here in John’s Gospel. Ultimately, prayer is about one thing—joining our lives so completely with Christ’s that Christ’s life and ministry continue through us. Prayer is a commitment to reverse the departure of our lives from the life and purposes of Jesus. As we strive to return our lives back to Christ and to “remain” there and have Christ’s words remain in us, our prayers take on fresh power.

Joy,

[1] Hemingway, Ernest. “The Gambler, The Nun, and The Radio,” The Snows of Kilimanjaro and Other Stories. New York: Scribner Classics, 2009, 49.

[2] Brooks, Phillips. “Prayer,” The Battle of Life and Other Sermons. New York: E.P. Dutton, 1893, 297.

Categories
Religious

Letting Go of Anger

“Let go of anger and leave rage behind! Don’t get upset—it will only lead to evil.”

Psalm 37:8 (Common English Bible)

“No man can think clearly when his fists are clenched,” writes George Jean Nathan.[i] We need to reach no further than personal experience to accept the truth of those words. Anger destabilizes and diminishes our capacity to make sound judgments. Chances are strong that many of the worst choices you’ve ever made occurred in moments of anger. Family disagreements result in family estrangements. Differences in political ideology result in poorly spoken words that magnify simple differences into vitriol—even cruelty toward another. Bad behavior flows from hearts that we once never imagined had such capacity. Anger becomes a palatable emotion that gathers strength unto itself as a tropical storm organizes into the destructive force of a hurricane. The teacher of the Psalms is correct—anger that isn’t released in a healthy manner leads to evil.

Here in Psalm 37, the people of God are angry. The source of the anger are people experiencing success though they do not honor God; do not follow the way of the Lord. It is a spiritual predicament very present today. When keeping the faith becomes difficult and honoring God requires a level of discipline and restraint and personal sacrifice, others ignore God and advance, even prosper in all their endeavors. Fairness seems absent. The result is a stumbling into frustration and destructive anger. We are bewildered by the incongruence of the equation of life: the faithful struggle and the faithless thrive. Mark Twain’s words are instructive, “Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured.”[ii] What is unfortunate, argues Travis Bradberry, is that this knowledge is rarely enough to help people keep their anger in check.[iii]

The teacher in this Psalm is asking God’s people to place their frustration and anger into God’s hands. After all, God’s hands have been shown again and again to be really good hands. These are the hands that separated the sea for Israel to pass through when they were pursued by the armies of Egypt. These are the hands that fed Israel for forty years in the wilderness. These are the hands that continue to direct the people in the way of faith and obedience.  Our hands are insufficient, certainly not sufficient for such a range of volatile emotions. Such provocation results in a mood that is unpleasant, uncertain, and destructive. The teacher knows that. So, the teacher urges that we do not allow anger to overtake us but to wait for what the Lord will finally do. Here is a lesson that Israel will learn again and again.

Psalm 37 invites the people of God to another way. It is finally the way of trust in God. Then, we are persuaded to hold to this other way—to clench this other way rather than to clench anger. Certainly, there will be moments when we will seek to take back into our own hands the anger stirred by injustice and hatred in this broken world. These will be moments when we fool ourselves into believing we would be better stewards of what is just and right than God. God’s hands are even large enough for such foolishness. And they are patient hands. Waiting for us to discover again that such anger in our hands become an irritant to our own sense of well-being. It is then that the great teacher asks us once again to hand the anger back to God. Once we are clear that this is where it belongs, we become less worrisome and more expectant of the wonder that God will reveal.

Joy,

[i] Mark Goulston and Philip Goldberg, Get Out of Your Own Way: Practical Lessons for Conquering Procrastination, Fear, Envy, Neediness, Guilt, and More. (A TarcherPerigee Book: New York, New York, 1996) 25.

[ii] Travis Bradberry, Emotional Intelligence Habits: Change Your Habits, Change Your Life. (TalentSmartEQ: San Diego, 2023) 157.

[iii] IBID, 157.

Categories
Religious

Summons to Gratitude

The following meditation is from Dr. Doug Hood’s upcoming book, A Month of Prayer & Gratitude: Five-Minute Meditations for a Deeper Experience of Gratitude.

“Truly God is good to Israel, to those who are pure of heart.”

Psalm 73:1 (Common English Bible)

The creation story of Genesis summons God’s people to gratitude. The Lord took Adam, the first man of God’s creation, and placed him in the Garden of Eden to farm and take care of it. Additionally, Adam is invited to “Eat your fill from all of the garden’s trees.” (Genesis 2:16b). Yet God’s abundance did not end with an orchard. God realized that being well-fed isn’t enough. God declared it was not good for Adam to be alone. So, God fashioned a woman and brought the woman to Adam, who embraced her as his wife. Together, they would share in the goodness and abundance of God. For this, Adam and his wife were created. For this, Adam and his wife were summoned to gratitude, and in this gratitude, they would find their happiness. Gratitude is how we measure what is made available to us, however much or little it may be. It is a spirit that positively shapes us and folds us into a life of faith.

The Seventy-third Psalm celebrates this summons with a ringing declaration, “Truly God is good to Israel, to those who are pure in heart.” But as the psalmist continues to write, we discover that gratitude had nearly been lost for a moment. Immediately after the bold declaration of the first verse, there is a confession that the psalmist’s feet had almost stumbled. The cause is quickly identified: human eyes turned away from what God is providing to look upon the prosperity of another. Comparison is measured between what we have and what another enjoys. The result of this comparison is a perceived imbalance—the other has more! Jealously poisons the heart, and bitterness, or anger, or both presses against a heart once pure. This sight of another’s prosperity created a sickness of heart and fueled a cynical spirit. And the psalmist’s feet nearly stumble beneath.

The antidote to this sickness, to this cynicism, is then announced: The psalmist went into the sanctuary of God. Eyes were directed away from another, and their prosperity to see God once again. In prayer, in reading the Bible, and in worship, we are reminded once again that we deserve nothing. Yet, in God’s grace, we have. We may have little or much, as the apostle Paul declares in one of his letters, but we have. Eyes directed back to God returns to us a true perspective—to view life, as it were, through the eyes of God. In the creation story of Genesis, Adam is placed in an orchard. Yet, careful attention to the story reveals that Adam is not to eat of one tree. Though this detail holds rich theological implications, let this one thing be understood: we were never created to have it all. Eyes turned away from God strive for much. But eyes turned toward God release gratitude for what we already have.

The Bible’s summons to gratitude does not minimize the pain of loss and disappointment. Each is experienced during life, though some may experience both in greater measure than others. There are people who have longed to marry and never do. Others have wrestled with the loss of marriage, either through divorce or the death of a spouse. Health challenges or the loss of a child challenge the maintenance of a robust faith. The apostle Paul speaks of an unnamed “thorn in the flesh” and asks God on three occasions that God remove this pain from him. God does not. What is important is that Paul turns his attention from his struggle to focus on something beyond himself—the building of the church. Paul demonstrates that experiencing gratitude is possible only when one can direct attention from what one lacks to the presence of God. And God promised Paul that God’s grace continued to abide.

Joy,

Categories
Religious

Borrowing Time for Prayer

The following is from Dr. Doug Hood’s upcoming book, “A Month of Prayer & Gratitude: Five-Minute Meditations for a Deeper Experience of Gratitude.”

“Jesus was telling them a parable about their need to pray continuously and not to be discouraged.”

Luke 18:1(Common English Bible)

Near the beginning of my present ministry, I placed a brass plaque on the pulpit, positioned just above the Bible. It reads, “The pulpit must be the grave of all human words” by Edward Thurneysen. We don’t come to worship for human advice. If we did, a church service would be no different than a TED Talk. I need to be reminded each week that people come not for an expression of my opinion; they come for the Word of God. Here in this teaching from Luke’s Gospel, Jesus is telling a parable about an opportunity to pray continuously. Jesus believed in prayer. Jesus prayed often. Jesus now wants us to know that prayer is nothing less than approaching the presence of an infinitely holy God. It is an invitation received from God. We must sense the gravity of that invitation and not be relaxed about prayer. Thought, preparation, and intentionality are a more responsible response to God’s invitation to prayer.

A shared difficulty with this approach to prayer is sheer busyness. A man I admire in my present congregation once told me that Jesus’ invitation for regular, daily prayer was a “tall ask.” He owned a business with nearly nine hundred employees. Regular demands upon him rarely left time for reading the Bible, a helpful daily meditation, and prayer. I sympathized and tried to understand. Yet, I also hear that God’s claim upon us—God’s claim upon the life of my friend—isn’t negotiable. Jesus asks that we pray continuously. That isn’t advice from the pastor. It isn’t the opinion of a human. It is all Jesus. A hit-or-miss casualness toward prayer is simply unacceptable. Close attention to Jesus’ life discloses that Jesus remained busy healing, teaching, and proclaiming God’s Kingdom. It would be an interesting debate between my friend and Jesus, which one of them worked harder.

What my friend failed to grasp is that the time borrowed for reading Scripture, a brief meditation, and prayer will not be lost from his work. The poise, steadiness, and increased wisdom granted from time with God each morning will be recompensed to him many times over. That great leader of the early church, Martin Luther, understood this. “Luther habitually prayed for three hours each day.”[1] There is simply no substitute for the value added to each day after being steadied and strengthened by God. Bruce Larson, a Presbyterian pastor of another generation, once spoke at a conference I attended on the value of prayer in his life. He said that if he missed a day of prayer, he noticed the difference. If he missed several days of prayer, his family noticed the difference. If he missed three days, his friends noticed the difference. If he missed for a week, his congregation noticed a difference. Bryant Kirkland shared in a sermon before the faculty and students of Princeton Theological Seminary something he once found on the wall of an army chapel. It said, “Nothing happens here unless you want it to.”[2] Naturally, the question for each of us is, what do we want to happen by prayer? What Jesus found in prayer was less a power to effect miracles and more a presence—God’s presence—that brought in generous measures of strength in weakness, encouragement in discouragement, and inspiration to reach for greater heights. More, Jesus found someone who would never abandon him. Anne Frank wrote that she was prompted to keep a diary simply because, “I don’t have a friend.”[3] Jesus doesn’t want that to be our story. Rather, Jesus desires to introduce to us, through prayer, a God who not only desires to draw close to us but will create in us a transformative story. Confidently, Jesus asks, “Pray continuously and not be discouraged.”

Joy,

[1] Buttrick, George A. Prayer, New York: Cokesbury, 1942, 265.

[2] Kirkland, Bryant, God’s Gifts, the Princeton Seminary Bulletin, Volume VII, Number 3, 1986, 268.

[3] Frank, Anne. Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl, New York: Anchor, 2001, 6.