No pain ever again

For most people, the joy of something new does not last very long. For most, the honeymoon is over in six to eighteen months. A new car loses its shine even faster, as do new shoes, clothes and other material things. The delight of a new baby might stick with us, but all parents know how that joy also has its ups and downs.

Pain is another thing. It can stay with us for years, which means that our capacity for pain is greater than we would like it to be. Jesus was fully God was also fully human. He sweat blood in the garden and endured pain on the cross that we cannot fathom, demonstrating the human capacity for pain. Joy does not last that long, at least here and now. Yet one day both capacities will change when…

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away. (Revelation 21:4)

I’d like to avoid pain right now. The pain of childbirth is one thing, and for most is quickly forgotten, but other suffering is not so quick to disappear. However, today’s devotional reading reminds me that that pain is at the root of life and growth, so much so that through pain we are carried to higher levels.

In suffering I was born. Pain informs me when something is wrong and teaches me lessons I do not forget. By the pain endured by Christ, I was redeemed and set free from the power and penalty of sin. Yes, pain is a curse, but it also has power. The devotional writer points out that we owe our laws to it, and all our art, our immortal books and especially our salvation.

Also, in every country and in every age people have looked on suffering and pain as something that was acceptable to God. What is so mysterious about pain that folks instinctively sense that in bearing it, God will be pleased? While such thoughts can have their twisted side and motivate bizarre methods of “pleasing the gods” such as walking on fire or sacrificing children, this universal instinct points to a reality; God says that sorrow is better than laughter (Ecclesiastes 7:3). The New Testament adds that…

We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. (2 Corinthians 4:8–11)

Pain and affliction bring death to the old nature that God might bring forth the life of Christ that is in me. Sin is such that I cling to what is easy, familiar, and especially what gives me comfort and even glory. God’s way is self-denial, not to earn His favor but to get out of His way. Jesus lives in me but I can block Him by wanting joy all the time. Yet in this body and life, I do not have the capacity to be joyful all the time. In fact, supreme and extended joy can actually give me a supreme and extended headache.

The good news is that God’s Word also says the pain I dread now will be wiped away. God will give me a new capacity for joy, one that can handle an eternity full of it. Until then, these words encourage me…

So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. (2 Corinthians 4:16–18)

The life of a branch

We have a fruit tree in the back yard that blossoms each spring, but it bears little fruit. It needs another tree nearby as a ‘cross pollinator’ and without it, nothing happens. The other tree does not need to be the same variety. It just needs to be there.

I’m not a horticulturist, but as I observe the behavior of my plants, I’ve noticed a few other interesting things. For instance, one lovely perennial produced incredible flowers the first two years that I had it. Then it began to spread and move. The third year it came up about a foot from where it was planted. The next year there were three plants. One of them was about five feet from the original spot and blooms were spotty. The year after that, it disappeared altogether.

Plants can be finicky, even those with a reputation for being easy to grow. Of that category, I have other perennials that grow so well that they take over the space that they are in, and if each plant is not controlled and pruned, it becomes so rampant that it begins to choke itself to death.

In John 15, Jesus uses the image of a vine and branches to describe how I am in relationship with Him. He is the vine, His Father is the vine dresser, and I am a branch. He warns that any branch that does not bear fruit will be lopped off, but if I bear fruit, I can expect to be ‘pruned’ that I might bear even more fruit.

I’ve done that to trees. I remember a crab apple on our farm that had dense branches. It never had apples, so I thinned it out according to something I read about a tree; it should look as if a bird could fly through it. The next year nothing happened, but the second year we had a bumper crop of apples.

Jesus clarified that pruning isn’t necessarily about sin (although it usually is). He said I am “already clean because of the word which I have spoken to you.” When He saved me and came into my heart, He also forgave all my sin, past, present and future. Pruning is about getting rid of those dead branches that do not produce fruit. It might be a sinful pattern or way of thinking that needs to be cut away, but it might also be some activity that simply has no value to His plan for my life. It isn’t sinful and dead, but it blocks fruit production.

Then He says (John 15:4), “Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in Me.”

My part is sticking close to Him. I’ve always come away from this verse with that understanding. However, this morning’s devotional reading challenges me to look again. Three little words make the difference — “I in you.”

Jesus lives in me. Without that, I could no more stay close to Him than a dead branch could produce fruit. He is my life. He is holding on to me, pouring out His love into my heart, and producing evidences of His life so that I can be like Him, my Vine. That life originates in the Vine, not the branch. I have been grafted in through the powerful work of the Holy Spirit. I didn’t jump up there myself; He put me there. I am in Christ, but more important; Christ is in me. The graft holds, not because I abide in Him, as important as that is, but because He abides in me.

Unity of the Spirit

More often than not, the topic of the class I teach Sunday morning and the topic of the sermon preached right after are similar. Yesterday my class studied the obedience of Jesus Christ and how obedience to God could be costly, but was worth it. The sermon title was “A Painful Obedience.”

When I looked at the sermon outline in the bulletin, I chuckled. How does that happen? I’ve no idea what the pastor is going to do, and he certainly does not consult with me about my class. Actually, someone from one of the other classes said their discussion also involved obedience.

For anyone outside the Body of Christ, this looks like a coincidence. For those of us who know the Holy Spirit, we recognize that He is speaking to us and it is not a great surprise if His message comes the same way yet through various sources.

This morning I read this beautiful passage from Colossians 3:12-17. It talks about the ideal and joyful relationship between the people of God as we obediently walk with Him.

Therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, put on tender mercies, kindness, humility, meekness, longsuffering; bearing with one another, and forgiving one another, if anyone has a complaint against another; even as Christ forgave you, so you also must do. But above all these things put on love, which is the bond of perfection. And let the peace of God rule in your hearts, to which also you were called in one body; and be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom, teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord. And whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him.

These words are not to one person, but to all who are in Christ. It speaks of a bond, a unity, a mutual attitude and care for one another that we have because Jesus lives in our hearts. When all of these things are in place, it should not be a surprise that the expression of the Holy Spirit coming from each mouth and life is in harmony with everyone else.

Further, if God’s concern, or warning, or encouragement, or exhortation to us is for the whole Body, it ought not be a surprise that each one in the Body needs and hears and passes on that same message. It might be presented in different forms (Sunday lessons, preaching, music, personal conversation), but it will be in harmony with the Spirit because He gives it to each one.

My favorite part of this particular passage is verse 16: “Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly. . . .” I love the Word of God and am certain that all who know it are far better equipped to live out the lovely unity expressed here. The Scripture is powerful and “given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, thoroughly equipped for every good work” (2 Timothy 2:16).

When the Bible is taught and takes up a firm and lasting place in our hearts, it unfolds to us a wealth of treasure, opening up to us the wisdom of God and the mystery of godliness. If we search and study the Bible with prayer and are continually seeking to understand what God wants for us and from us, God not only gives each Christian personal instruction, but that instruction is in harmony with what He is giving the others. Because of His Spirit, we have a bond that would not otherwise be ours.

Obedience is key, but obedience is not to rules or lists of do’s and don’t’s. Instead, it is simply a response of trust to the Lord and to what He opens up to us through His Word and His Spirit. Sometimes, when a Christian is in tune with God, that response is so natural that we are not even aware that God is in the thing we are doing. I imagine myself as a glove with God being the hand. He moves and I move with Him.

Of course this is about the ideal. As my devotional reading for today says, “we very easily fall off from abiding in Christ.” It warns that we cannot “expect to keep up sensible union and communion with the Lord Jesus if we neglect those means of grace which the Holy Ghost has provided for the nourishment of the life of God in the soul.”

Those means of grace include reading His Word with prayer and faith so as to feed the spirit and the life of God in my heart. Communion with Christ results in unity and communion with His people because He lives in me and also in them. He is our bond, our common ground.

Yesterday was rich and wonderful. Today God reminds me that this richness is from Him, yet it requires spiritual discipline from me. Today might be a national holiday, but that is never an excuse to take a break from spiritual disciplines or risk doing (or not doing) anything to impoverish my own soul or break that incredible bond that He gives me with His people.

Eagles and Robins

I found a dead bird in the backyard yesterday. It was only a bird, but there is a sadness in that lifeless form. I didn’t feel good about this small event in a big world.

Oddly enough, this morning my devotional guide leads me to a verse about a bird. A man called Agur writes in Proverbs 30:18-19, “There are three things which are too wonderful for me, yes, four which I do not understand: the way of an eagle in the air. . . .”

My study Bible links this verse to the passage that follows. It is about an adulterous woman. The notes say that the eagle is an analogy of hypocrisy and concealment in that no one can see its trail left in the air, just like the way an adulterous woman hides the evidence of her shame. (These notes include the other three things of verse 19, a serpent on a rock, a ship in the sea, and a man courting a virgin, in that analogy.)

Another commentary tells me that some say the ways of these four are mysterious; others say their ways are not traceable; others suggest that they each easily master an element that is seemingly difficult. Another suggestion is that they each go where there are no paths.

After all that, I’ve still no clue what Agur was thinking when he wrote these verses. It seems to me that Proverbs doesn’t often fit into the idea of “interpret in context” because the topics run one after another without apparent connection. While some connect this to the next passage about adultery, but it could just as easily connect to the previous one about greed, or it simply could stand alone.

It could also connect to earlier statements Agur makes in this chapter. He says, “Surely I am more stupid than any man, and do not have the understanding of a man. I neither learned wisdom nor have knowledge of the Holy One.”

He goes on then about the marvel of God and His works and the purity of His words. By starting out in awe of God and in admission of his own lack of comprehension, verses 18 and 19, and other parts of this chapter, could very well be a poetic continuation of those thoughts.

So, what do I know about eagles? They eat carrion and are magnificent in flight, soaring without getting weary. The Bible talks about them in both capacities.

In Alaska we used to watch the bald eagles circling high above the mouth of the Kenai river. Once I saw one of them being harassed by two crows. As they flew at him, he closed his wings and I thought he had been hit. Not so. One crow flew away and the other one dropped like a stone. The eagle used its powerful claws and killed it in mid-flight. I understand Agur’s awe at the way of an eagle in the air.

The writer of my devotional, Watchman Nee, says this verse reminds him that eagles fly without being overcome by the law of gravity. The law is real, just like the law of sin and death, but for an eagle, flying in the air illustrates how we who believe overcome that law through the spirit of life in Jesus Christ. His life in us takes us above the law of sin and death just as an eagle can defy gravity.

That brings me back to the dead bird in my yard. My first thought was that this little body is just a body. The life is gone from it, and without that life, it might as well be a leaf or twig or stone. It cannot overcome anything without life.

Earlier in the day, and in sharp contrast to that deadness, I heard another bird singing very close to me. Slowly moving to my open window (second floor), I spotted a robin on the small roof ledge about three feet from me. It was expressing its life in music.

An eagle expresses life in flight, a robin in song. With the thoughts Nee gave me, I am thinking how shall I express the life of Christ today? Maybe, for me, this is why I’m reading this odd verse in Proverbs. The life of Christ in me is just as mysterious and wonderful and beyond understanding as the “way of an eagle in the air,” yet God gives me that life to joyfully and without effort express. Maybe someone will see me soar and be filled with the same sense of wonder and delight that I have at the memories of eagles in flight or of a little robin singing at my window.