Where Did That Come From?!

A couple weeks ago, as I prepared to hunker down with my boys, awaiting the "Big Snow," I stopped at a local ice cream parlor to grab a couple pints for the milkshake making that would surely be a part of our snow days. The weather had been a bit wonky. Just the previous day, it had been 50°, and here we were, awaiting several inches of snow and a deep, deep freeze. As I parked a good distance away (Gotta get those steps in for the old ticker!) and headed into the store, the air was chilly but still. Less than fifteen minutes later, I stepped out of the store and into a wind tunnel. And it felt as though the temps had dropped by twenty degrees! Where did this come from?! That only goes to show how stunned I was: I ended my question with a preposition AND, I believe, I exclaimed it aloud! (I'm not an "aloud" exclaimer, nor would I be caught dead ending anything with a preposition. But I digress.)

This morning, as I read John 3:1-21, Jesus' teaching to Nicodemus, verse 8 reminded me of that abrupt change in the air that evening:

The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from and where it goes. So is everyone who is born of the Spirit.

To us, a world of simple observers, the wind appears to come and go as it pleases. We feel it on our skin. We hear its roar and whistle. We see its effect on trees and trashcans. We have even found ways to "harness" it for our own purposes. But when it stops or when it starts, where it goes or at what rate of speed is ultimately beyond our control. And it can take us by complete surprise one way or the other.

Jesus tells Nicodemus, and by extension, all who would hear, the Holy Spirit's work is like the wind. To us, a world of simple observers, His work may seem wild and unpredictable. We feel His regeneration in our hearts. We hear His voice speaking through the Scriptures. We call on Him to accomplish those things we are unable to accomplish. We even witness His transformation in the lives of others. But how He works, when He works, if He will work in the way we anticipate, the speed at which we will see the results of His work --all these things are beyond our control. The work of the Holy Spirit takes us by surprise one way or the other. Direction, intention, method, and mystery.

The wind obeys its Master, the Master Creator who holds all things together as He wills. The Holy Spirit is that Master! He is not wild and unpredictable --not in the way the wind can rip through a town cherry-picking home after home and leaving lawn furniture untouched and in place. He is not reckless or chaotic --not in the tohu wa-bohu way of Genesis 1:1, 2; chaos and nothingness. It was the Holy Spirit Himself who hovered over that emptiness. The King James Version of the Bible says, The Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. There was movement, like a flutter; a hummingbird, its wings beating furiously as it hovers above a flower, drawing of its nectar; a helicopter whirring over a vast sea, as it pulls survivors from the wreckage of a storm-slain ship. And from that flutter, from that whirring, from the rushing wind of Holy Spirit activity comes order and life (Acts 2:1-4).

When the Day of Pentecost had fully come, they were all with one accord in one place. And suddenly there came a sound from heaven, as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled the whole house where they were sitting. Then there appeared to them divided tongues, as of fire, and one sat upon each of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance.

Life! for all who would hear the Word of the Lord and believe! Is that you? Or is that someone for whom you have been praying? I urge you not to lose hope. The Holy Spirit is at work. When or how, from where His mighty (or gentle) wind will blow, we cannot control. Like stepping out of an ice cream parlor and being met with a "rogue" wind, like the soft but feverish flutter of a hummingbird wind, like the daring rescue of desperate men, like the mystery of void and chaos taking form. The Holy Spirit is at work in the Kingdom of God, and as such, we as God's citizens, can find great comfort and strength to continue our petitions.

Midweek: Turning Over Tables

Whenever I read about "violent protests sweeping the city" and people "turning over tables," I wonder if what people are saying Jesus would have done is really what Jesus would have done.

In John 2:13-25, God, through its writer gives us the account of Jesus clearing the Temple during Passover. I think you all know the specifics: a city crowded with devotees coming to present their sacrifices, a Temple crowded with merchants looking to take advantage of the influx of consumers, and onto the scene arrives Jesus. Verses 15 and 16: 

When He had made a whip of cords, He drove them all out of the temple, with the sheep and the oxen, and poured out the changers’ money and overturned the tables. And He said to those who sold doves, “Take these things away! Do not make My Father’s house a house of merchandise!”

What's interesting here is that no one, apparently, questions the manner or necessity of Jesus' doing so. What they question (v. 18) is His authority to drive these people back to the streets. The Complete Jewish Bible renders their question in this way:

What miraculous sign can you show us to prove you have the right to do all this?

They wanted proof --tangible, over-the-top, immediate proof --that He was authorized to demand the House of God be respected and kept pure. Imagine that! People who were chosen by God, who had come to --allegedly --honor Him with their Passover sacrifices and feasts, wanted to know what right this man had to cleanse the place where God's presence dwelt of the familiarity and opportunistic exchange that had overrun its holy spaces. Surely, these worshippers should have joined Him in this restoration. At the least, shouldn't they have cheered His actions? What had they been doing when the first tables were put in place? Jesus' disciples, in looking back to these events recalled the psalmist's words in Psalm 69:9, Because zeal for Your house has eaten me up. As Jewish observers, where was their zeal? Weren't they all madly in love with the God who had chosen them and brought them out of Egypt? Isn't that the very thing they had come to celebrate --God's deliverance and mercy toward His people?

Their question proves just how they'd become people of hierarchy, laws, and manmade structures. Without a title or the sanction of religious leaders, they questioned anyone's authority to stand up for God's honor. They demanded Jesus do some sort of sign that He was entitled to respond to what they never should have allowed in the first place. (More on that sign another day.) They stood back and challenged Him because they didn't even understand what zeal for God's house should mean; the zeal that should have consumed every person present! They were, instead, methodical and cold. Their methodology did not stoke their fire but extinguished it.

We have, in this country, many Christians who demonstrate their love for fellow human beings, performing daily on a worldwide stage. But is this God's love? At times, God's love can seem harsh, disciplinarian, even unfair. But those are human terms formed as we see things from a finite and fallen perspective. Even we, however, can see that love sometimes requires inconvenient and unwanted boundaries, stern words or painful lessons. There are laws in this country which some may believe with all their hearts are unjust and harmful. There are events occurring which they may believe are despicable and discriminatory. But these laws, civic laws are designed to keep people of many different backgrounds, beliefs, and communities safe and in order. The zeal with which protests occur and opinions are exchanged is a wonderful thing to contemplate if that zeal is for the Lord above all. Jesus' turning over tables, Jesus' fury was for His Father and His Father's house which men had defiled. He pointed His attention toward God and God's holiness, not toward the deception of the moneychangers, the merchants selling inferior sacrifices, or even the unsuspecting victims of their corruption. There were civil courts to deal with all of those things. Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's, Jesus said; but render unto God that which is God's. 

God tells us that as Christians, as individuals chosen by Him, we are to welcome the stranger, love him as we love ourselves. He tells us to visit the prisons. First of all, these are commands for God's people. IF we were doing the job we are supposed to be doing within the confines of law established by the government of the land in which we live (for we are told also, to obey the authorities God has allowed to be put in place), IF we were using the voting power, the freedom to proclaim Jesus, and the God-given health and wealth to do as we have been commanded, we might see a different America. But the fiery protests and dangerous acts we see occurring today are attempts to close the gate after the horse has left the barn. And they are in direct disobedience to what God orders in Scripture. Which brings me to a second point.

Revolt against government is revolt against God. Who would throw stones at an undertaker because their child has died? Who would jump on a moving vehicle because the brakes on their own car failed? The Lord gives and the Lord takes away; blessed be the name of the Lord (Job 1:21)! In everything give thanks (1 Thes. 5:18) This is the nature of life on this orb. Sometimes we find ourselves in unwelcome situations and unfavorable places. That is not to say we don't work to change them, but we do it within the parameters of the law, obedient to God's Word and grateful for the opportunity He has given.

Lastly, to clothe the naked, to anoint the sick, to feed the hungry, and visit the imprisoned --these are Christlike habits formed within the confines of a heart turned toward Christ. They were never meant to legislated by the social justice police or the government. When was the last time you saw a protest demanding laws which compel every retiree to visit a prisoner at least once a month, or every childless couple to adopt at least two children? We vehemently reject the notion of a "God-fearing, Christian" country, a country where babies are not murdered in the womb and self-indulgence and debauchery are not celebrated in every aspect of culture; but then we call on our government, the leaders of this nation to force the rich to give to the poor and allow the stranger to reside among us unvetted and unaccountable. Kindness in its most authentic form, love as God loves cannot be legislated --least of all by a nation that rejects Him! True goodness and mercy can only be the evidence of a heart transformed by God's Holy Spirit (Gal. 5:22, 23). 

These unchecked, unpeaceful protests are not what Jesus would have done. His Word bears that out. Our goal is not radicalism, the turning over of tables or the fashioning of whips; it wasn't Jesus' either. As believers we are subject to the authority of our Redeemer and King, Jesus Christ; we act in obedience to Him and for the glory of our Father, going to all the world and making disciples (Mt. 28:19), consumed by zeal for our Lord and His name. 

Life Together

I came home to my husband, sitting silently at the kitchen table, his head bowed. Believing him to be in prayer, I silently began stowing away groceries. A minute later, he spoke.

I think I had another heart attack.

He described to me his symptoms, and we were on our way to the hospital. 

Hospital closures in our area have caused ridiculous wait times in the closest facility available, and while I certainly wanted my husband to receive good care, I was annoyed with the conditions. I was annoyed that this was going to be "today." I was fearful this could be the start of many "todays" like it. It was hours later when I returned home with our youngest. My husband had been kept for observation, and we had routine minus one to rejoin. As I moved about, I was reminded how interrupted the day had become. The laundry I was planning to fold still peeked at me from the dryer window. The ingredients for what was supposed to be dinner greeted me when I opened the refrigerator. The bills I hadn't gotten a chance to pay remained piled on my desk. Books I was preparing to ship out were stacked on a corner of my desk, the box empty on the office floor. I'd had big plans for the day, and yet, life had somehow interrupted my living. Knowing how tedious the discharge process could be, I knew the following day didn't hold much more promise. I could feel the stress and anger rising. When is all of this supposed to get done? Why does our life seem to be one step forward and two steps back? What is the meaning behind all of this? The questions, the mania, the fears --all things that will derail us when problems arise.

The following morning, as I awaited my husband's Good-to-Go, all of my earlier disappointments (?) annoyances (?) interruptions (?) came to mind. I mean, laundry, meal prep, paying bills, standing in that line at the post office. Is that really living? I guess it could be. Liturgy of the Ordinary. And Every Moment Holy. Right? Any other day, I might be griping about all of the mundane tasks that plague my calendar. What had I gotten to do the previous day? I got to sit in a hospital waiting room and pray. For my husband. For the woman who was threatening to leave if she wasn't treated immediately (She was still there when we left for the day). For the man who was unconvinced he should be sent home. For the person with dizzy spells and the child bitten by a dog and the man who couldn't see. Prayers that would have never made it past my lips had I been matching socks or chopping carrots. I got to read a great book; not in the normal way --read a page, let the dog out, start the next page, let the dog in, notice the time, rush through the second page, forget who Turner is, go back to the first page... I got to sit and read! Absorb it, enjoy it! I got to have dinner with two of our children; I got to spend the following morning with our son. Not atypical things, but there was a sense at that table and in starting our day, that we somehow needed the company of one another more than usual. I got to smile at someone on the elevator and have a friendly chat with someone at the registration desk. I got to taste the hospital cafeteria's Tikka Masala (which proved to be pretty good). I got to enjoy the sunshine as I walked to and from the car. I got to do a lot of things that I had not scheduled but were instead given me by the Heavenly Father who works all things together for my good.

My husband is well, praise God. He is definitely going to live. And, it appears, we'll live together!