Nurture Faith with Dr. Doug Hood

Acts 26:1 (Common English Bible)

            Along the coast of the Mediterranean Sea, between Tel Aviv and Haifa, rises the restored city of Caesarea, built by Herod the Great in 20 B.C. and named in honor of the Roman emperor Caesar Augustus.  Caesarea served as the Roman capital for the province of Judea for nearly 600 years and was the official residence of its governors, including Pontius Pilate who sentenced Jesus to death. It is here that several major events in the formative years of the Christian church took place including the baptism, by Paul, of a Roman military officer named Cornelius (see Acts 10:1-8)

            For two years, the apostle Paul was imprisoned in Caesarea for preaching Jesus Christ and Christ’s resurrection from the dead. During his imprisonment, King Agrippa and the king’s sister, Bernice, came to Caesarea. During a conversation with Porcius Festus, the current governor of Caesarea, King Agrippa and Bernice learned of this man, Paul, and that he was being held there in that city as a prisoner. Fascinated with the story of Paul, his preaching and teaching and Paul’s imprisonment, Agrippa said to Festus, “I want to hear the man myself.” The very next day, King Agrippa and Bernice entered the auditorium of Caesarea with considerable fanfare and Paul was brought from his prison cell to address the King and honored guest.

 

For whatever reason, I have entered a place in my life where I sense things more deeply than ever before; I am easily brought to a place of tears. Seated in that ancient auditorium, looking down to an empty stage, a place that was once occupied by Paul in chains, I pictured him making that hand gesture and I had to hide my tears from my colleagues. Paul thought nothing of his present humiliation, a prisoner in chains, and placed all his energy into one thing, the message of Jesus and Jesus’ power to change lives.

Joy,

If you found this meditation helpful, please forward to a friend and invite them to subscribe to this free blog.

John 2:5 (Common English Bible)

            Jesus’ first miracle was in Cana, on the occasion of a wedding celebration. David A. Redding, a Presbyterian pastor, declares that this one miracle is a masterpiece to love.[i]Jesus makes an unforgettable impression that he knew how to laugh and have a good time. Though it goes without saying that moments of grief need God’s help, says Redding, this miracle demonstrates that gladness needs it, too. What is dominant in this story is not the miracle, or the wine, but Christ’s presence. Jesus showed-up when people were celebrating and having a good time. This says a great deal about Jesus. Jesus came to live with people and to love them – both in the midst of sorrow and loss, as well as in times of gladness and celebration.

            From this miracle we make another discovery about Christ; Christ has both the power and desire to help people, even ordinary people like you and me. It is important that the wedding couple is never identified by name. Their name is irrelevant. They are, perhaps, ordinary people like us, busy celebrating their wedding with family and friends when something embarrassing happens – they simply run out of wine before the celebration has concluded. So, Jesus’ own mother comes to him and asks for his help. It is the most basic pattern of prayer; simply asking God for help.

            Naturally, Jesus does help. Jesus performs the first miracle of his ministry. But to read this story swiftly, without careful attention to how John, the evangelist, tells the story, is to miss a most powerful dynamic of how Jesus works miracles. Notice, Jesus never touches the six stone water jars mentioned in the story. Jesus turns to servants and asks that they do the work of filling them with water. Notice again, Jesus doesn’t draw water from the six jars. Jesus never touches the water at all. Jesus simply asks the servants to draw some water and deliver it to the headwaiter and they do. When the headwaiter tastes what has been drawn from the jars he comments that it is the finest wine of the celebration! The miracle of Jesus, the miracle of turning water into wine, follows when others first do what they can.

            When there is a need or a problem in our lives, Jesus is concerned and stands ready to help. But this story teaches that we are expected to participate in our own miracle. Before Jesus fed the thousands, Andrew, one of Jesus’ disciples, first brought a little boy, with his lunch, to Jesus. Before a sick woman was healed, she touched the hem of Jesus’ garment. Before a blind man could see, he obeyed the command of Christ to go and wash his face in a pool. To receive a miracle from Christ, each one of us must do what we can. No person’s situation is so bad that they can’t do something. But it is after we have done what we can, that Jesus does what he needs to do. It is then that miracles happen.

Joy,

---

I Samuel 24:10 (Common English Bible)

            En is a Hebrew word meaning, “spring,” while Gedi means, “young goat” or “kid.” Placed together, the meaning of the name for this location is, “spring of a kid.” Many springs are found throughout this area but only two are fresh water, the others providing water that is tainted with salt or Sulphur. The En-Gedi is one of the freshwater springs and is still visible today, flowing-up from beneath a rock more than four hundred feet above the Dead Sea. This spring of fresh water, flowing down a cliff into a pool before finally emptying into the Dead Sea, is made all the more spectacular by its contrast with the drab, dry desert that surrounds it. During his years as a fugitive, David hid in one of the numerous caves among the cliffs that surround this spring.

            Except for a green oasis immediately surrounding the En-Gedi, the barren mountains and plains that extend out from this spring have been called Israel’s “bad lands” – a place of such desolation that it feels abandoned, even by God. Less than an hour’s drive from Jerusalem, my initial response, upon my first trip here, was that this was the most inhospitable place on earth, a lonely place, a desperate place. Appropriate then, that David sought refuge here while on the run from King Saul who sought David’s life. Hiding in one of the numerous caves that dot the mountains that surround this spring, David’s future was uncertain. He was a wanted man and King Saul commanded a powerful army with one determined mission, the death of David.

            Absorbing all the desolation, loneliness and fear of this land into his own body and spirit, David received a gift from God’s hand. During Saul’s pursuit, he went into one of these dark caves to use the restroom, the very cave where David was in hiding. The good news for David, and one common to our own experience, is that David’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness of the cave as David looked toward the bright entrance. Saul entering the cave could see nothing, including the man he was pursuing sitting right in front of him. Here was David’s chance to strike first, to kill the man who sought his own life.

            David did not. Rather, David snuck up on him and cut off a corner of Saul’s robe while Saul was relieving himself. After Saul left the cave, David also went out of the cave and yelled after Saul, “My master the king!” Saul looked back, and David bowed low out of respect. Then David showed Saul the piece of the cloth that he had cut from Saul’s robe. This was to demonstrate that David could have chosen to kill Saul and did not. David would not respond to Saul in fear and hatred, even though Saul sought David’s life. David offers Saul his reason, “You are the Lord’s anointed.” Even in fear of his own life, David remembers who he is; David is a man who has given his life to one purpose, the service and glory of almighty God.

Joy,

Portion of Matthew 11:29 (Common English Bible)

     I never imagined that I would have the opportunity to travel to the Holy Land. Colleagues in ministry have spoken of how this holy pilgrimage changed their life in deeply profound ways. I accepted their words as sincere. Yet, I had no capacity to understand. Such a trip seemed out of reach for me. Now, through the gracious and generous gift of one family in this congregation, my wife, Grace and I have returned from Israel. In the span of eight days we followed the way of our Lord along the shore of Galilee, the Mount of Beatitudes, entered the gates of Old Jerusalem and walked the Via Dolorosa – the path taken by Jesus with a cross on His back. The impact of that experience is still emerging. I anticipate it will continue to present surprises – in thought and emotion – for some time.

     There are two impressions, in particular that have pressed against my heart from this sacred pilgrimage: the sense of memory that remains in locations known to our Lord, and the recognition that the Lord has moved on. Both bear the capacity to impress a deeper reflection upon personal discipleship; the personal quest to acquire the Lord’s thought, to carry on the Lord’s spirit, to participate in the Lord’s vision of a new world and to embody that vision in our own lives. The abundant wealth of such a robust discipleship requires attention to three words of our Lord, “Learn from Me.”

     Today people of many different nations make the journey to Israel for just this purpose, to learn more of Jesus. Though motives for the journey may be expressed differently, all come because of a basic curiosity. And curiosity is always the pursuit of information, of deeper understanding.  They have come to learn of Jesus, to learn from Him. Someone once remarked that the secret of learning is to ask much, to remember much and to teach much. This provides a helpful pathway for our own discipleship. It is a fruitful approach to successful learning in the school of Jesus. 

     Each disciple of Jesus must devise their own curriculum to learn from Jesus. But let no one assume that they are alone in the labor of learning. Standing in a footprint of Jesus along the shore of Galilee or walking along the way of the cross may stir remembrances of our Lord and inspire the heart to know more of Him but none of us are alone in this labor to be students of Jesus. The absence of Jesus embodied in flesh at each sacred location reminds us that He has now come in spirit as a great helper in the sacred work of discipleship. That, perhaps, is one of the glories of the ministry of Jesus Christ. While we seek to learn of Jesus, He is at work within us in such a manner that the beauty of the Lord grows upon our vision.

Joy, 

Reprinted from Doug Hood, Heart & Soul: Meditations to Encourage the Heart & Refresh the Soul, (Xulon Press, 2014).

            There is, perhaps, no greater disappointment in life than to experience disappointment with God. Missed opportunities, unrealized dreams and friends who fail us are no small matter. They can be debilitating at times. Yet, most people also recognize that such disappointments are the stuff of life. With a strong network of family and friends, many find that they are able to push through such disappointments. But what are we to do with our disappointment with God? This is the most shattering of disappointments. “No longer is there a wide, comfortable margin between peace and the edge of doom,” writes that great Scottish preacher, James S. Steward.[i]  Disillusionment with God is startling, surprising and overwhelming. In a deep spiritual sense, such disillusionment is taking-up residence in the desert.

            Isaiah has a word for those desert moments – or days. In dramatic fashion, Isaiah speaks of a grand reversal, “The burning sand will become a pool, and the thirsty ground, fountains of water.” With incredible verve, he takes the most frightening and cynical judgment of the world that says that this life is nothing more than “burning sand” and reverses it. God is not absent nor will God remain silent. The word from the Lord is that the desert places of life will become an oasis; living water that quenches our fears and dispels the darkness.

            What does this mean? In effect, Isaiah acknowledges his common experience with ours that life is full of disappointments, broken dreams and dashed hopes. More, Isaiah is no stranger to fears that come like a bolt of lightening, unnerving our sense of comfort and security. But he also wants to remind us of history; Israel’s history of a God that is never far off, a God that appears in the midst of struggle and uncertainty with the hand of a shepherd, confidently leading us forward into God’s future for us. In every situation, even when the darkness of the hour seems to have the upper hand, grace reigns.

            Understand, of course, that the very struggle with disillusionment dispels any notion that faith is always experienced without struggle. Any spiritual journey occasionally moves through desert places, where the ground is hot and parched. But, Isaiah asks that we steadily move forward, particularly when our steps are labored and weak, for a wonderful discovery lies ahead of us, the same discovery that Isaiah made. Present circumstances that seem as burning sand will, by God’s promises, become a pool of cool water. Additionally, you will find yourself in the company of those who have discovered that they would rather travel the most difficult road with God than any other road without him.

Joy,

Luke 5:8 (Common English Bible)

            Harry Emerson Fosdick once commented to his congregation, the Riverside Church in the City of New York, that “Many people have pretty much reduced their Christianity to admiration of Jesus.”[i]Initially, this seems rather harmless. Jesus is a glorious character – a G rated individual in an R rated world. The beauty and strength of Jesus provides comfortable – and safe – fodder for family-friendly conversation, a Disney-like character to share with children at bedtime. His compassion, his high moral code, and his extravagant forgiveness remain beyond reproach. Here is an individual that sets the bar high for our own living. It would be difficult to find anyone who does not admire this man.

            Yet, it is precisely that admiration of Jesus that creates so much difficulty. We cast our eyes upon Jesus, note his exceptional life and obedience to God, and then we look in the mirror. There is present a gulf, as wide as the east is from the west, between the man Jesus was, and is, and who we are. Yes, our admiration for Jesus is great. But consider the effect that has upon our own self-image. Few of us will possess the musical greatness of Mozart, the artistic talent of Michelangelo or political savvy of Lincoln. And no one will possess the lofty moral greatness of Jesus. We admire Jesus from a distance. But who can ever approach his character in their own life? That is why Peter said to Jesus, “Leave me, Lord, for I’m a sinner!” Jesus’ flawlessness also makes him the most disturbing personality we ever face.

            It is precisely this reason, says Fosdick, that we don’t instinctively run to Jesus. Instinctively we try to escape him. We cannot live with ourselves and with Jesus.[ii]Anyone who takes Jesus seriously moves quickly beyond admiration to echo Peter’s anguish. Jesus is reduced to an extraordinary man that no one can ever, adequately, emulate. Jesus may be our ideal but the contrast between who we are and who Jesus is stirs exhaustion and despair. Anyone who doesn’t experience the hopelessness of Peter simply hasn’t taken Jesus seriously.

            The Good News is that the Bible has more to say about Jesus. Jesus is extraordinary in love and obedience. This is all true. But more than this, Jesus is the revelation of God’s desire to infuse our lives with the same strength and power we see in the person of Jesus. If Jesus were only a teacher, telling us how we ought to live, then despair would be ours. By our own strength and determination of will, we cannot live as Christ teaches. But what the disciples soon learned is that Jesus not only presented a clear vision of another way of life, Jesus was the conduit of God’s power for moving toward that vision. What a difference that makes! And it is that discovery by Peter that turned his first revolt from Christ to abiding, joyful hope.

Joy,

---

Revelation 3:20 (Common English Bible)

            There comes the moment for each of us when we can no longer deny our inner darkness and weakness, our deficiency against the common struggles of daily life and we become weary. Exhausted, we surrender our grasping to be in control, to be strong and without need for anyone, and we seek something else – a union with some strength and purpose beyond ourselves. This verse from Revelation comes to us at such moments. Here we are told that Jesus stands at the door and is ready to come in, if we allow it, and to take possession of our lives, to re-create our inner life and fill it with light and strength. As we stop grasping and are, rather, grasped by Jesus, we are gradually lifted by him, in spite of ourselves, and, from degree to degree, changed into the likeness of Christ.

            For this to proceed in our own life we must first recognize the knock of Jesus. How is that done? It may not be immediately recognizable. It may only be a vague sense of dissatisfaction with the movement of your life; a growing discomfort with the hopes, desires and ambitions that have fueled your daily decisions. Perhaps the knock is found in protest, deep in your heart, about what others are saying to you about this, or that, or another person and you sense that all of it is wrong. Something stirs within you for another conversation, one that is nobler, more loving, and lovelier. It may even be the Christ-like manner you witness in another and find that you desire to share in that behavior. The knock may simply be an impulse, a nudge, a longing of the heart.

            But to recognize the knock is insufficient. It is inconceivable that anyone would hear a knock on the front door of their home and simply ignore it. To ignore an unsettled heart is just as inconceivable. A knock demands to be answered, the door opened. What stands on the other side may be refused but it must be acknowledged. For a disciple, the door is opened and Christ is admitted at once. There should be no postponement. A postponement weakens the spirit and may result in missing Christ altogether, Christ possibly never returning again. To welcome Christ is to learn of him, to listen deeply to what he teaches and then to obey all that we understand of him. It is to acknowledge that life without Christ was failing us and to utterly reject any notion of negotiating with what Christ demands.

            What remains is a promise. The person, who hears the knock, opens the door and admits Christ into the inner place of their life discovers a deep and abiding communion with him, “and (I) will have dinner with them, and they will have dinner with me.” This is a relationship with Christ that moves way beyond simple obedience. It is the richest and most intimate of relationships; a relationship where one heart deeply shapes the heart of another and two are like one. Christ becomes more than a savior. Christ becomes one who makes us a better person and shares the journey of life as a contemporary, providing life with a peace and joy and adequacy that is simply unavailable without him.

Joy,

Colossians 2:14 (Common English Bible)

             There is a primary tendency to think of the cross of Jesus Christ as something that was inflicted upon him; that Jesus was a passive character in this narrative, bowing his head in meek submission to this terrible unfolding of events. Yet, in these words from Paul to the church in Colossae, that clearly isn’t the case. The cross was a demonstration of God’s power. According to Paul, the cross was actually God’s decisive response to our sin. God’s desire was to destroy the record of sin against us. This God accomplished by “nailing it to the cross.” Often we see in our mind’s eye that the Roman government was doing the nailing that day – the day that Jesus was crucified.  Clearly Paul’s words do not fit such an account. It was God doing the nailing that day.

            Jesus could have escaped the cross. He spoke during the evening meal with his disciples that one of them would betray him. Following dinner, in the garden, Jesus spoke to God, in prayer, about the cross that was now imminent. The cross was no surprise to Jesus. And armed with this knowledge, Jesus could have left the city of Jerusalem entirely and escaped. But he did not do so. Jesus deliberately directs his steps to the cross. There is present in this story an atmosphere of mastery about all of the unfolding events – a sense that all of it had been carefully choreographed. Resolutely, Jesus sets his face to the cross. Jesus is in control, not those who hate him.

            This profound, and often overlooked, truth offers deep insight into how we understand and live into our faith. First, it makes a considerable difference to understand the cross as God’s intentional and active will dealing with us. God isn’t passive. Often we think of God’s power as some sort of great reservoir that is available for the asking. It is there for us to seek out, to explore and draw strength as the need arises. Our misunderstanding is that God waits our decision to be engaged in faith formation and then answers the door when we knock. Except the witness of the Bible is just the opposite. God is active, always taking the first step toward us. The cross demonstrates God’s movement toward us, involving us in a most personal relationship as God grabs hold of our sin, “nailing it to the cross.”

            The second thing is this: the cross of Christ is not simply God’s activity toward us, but also God’s activity through us for the sake of the world. It is insufficient to understand the cross as God’s salvation for individual men and women. Both the Old and New Testament gives witness to a God movement to reclaim the world. And that movement is accomplished through individuals gathered together in a faith community. Those God calls and separates apart from the world eventually become the bearers of God’s universal activity of salvation for all the nations. At the center of our faith is the conviction that followers of Christ do not simply find themselves passive bystanders to what the mission of God accomplishes. Our sins are nailed to the cross; our relationship to God is restored, all for the larger purpose of making us partners in God’s redemption of the world.