Enough!

When our furry friend, Luci, entered our lives, she was FULL of energy! She was the largest dog I'd ever owned, and we were in over our heads. In desperation, we sought the help of a trainer. I confess, more time was spent training me --teaching me how to speak to Luci firmly, establishing routine, making sure I employed ways to help her burn some of that energy in constructive ways. One command Luci and I developed was "Enough!" This word was used for behaviors which were permitted, behaviors we didn't necessarily wish to stop altogether, but we did want her to cease at that moment. Barking at the door, for example. We wanted her to alert us to activity, but once we were headed to the door, we wanted her to stop. Enough! Over the years, we've grown complacent in our training; I in my practice and enforcement, and Luci in her obedience. "Enough!" is one of those commands that, for whatever reason, Luci continues to obey.

I was listening to our church elder preach the other day. He was telling us that he received correction with regard to his prayer life. You don't pray enough. I say he received it but, like many of us, not at first; briefly, he confessed, he attempted to defend himself. That is, until he heard it in his heart: You and Me are sitting together and having a conversation. You're talking to Me about what you wanna talk about --bring My word with you when you do it --and I tell you what I want.  And it may sound strange or over simplified, but that's what prayer is. It could be a running conversation we have throughout the day. Jesus, I'm nervous about this appointment. Jesus, thank you for providing me with this job. It could be a time or place set aside; a candle burning or hymns playing. It could be a coffee and a comfortable seat in a hospital lobby. It could be prayer meeting in the middle of the week, or with your children as you run them to karate. It can be praise before the morning sun or lament at the end of the day. Prayer can be accompanied by fasting or poured out over the pages of your Bible. Wherever you might speak, wherever you might breathe, you can pray. And there is absolutely no shortage of things for which to pray! Save my mother. Heal my uncle. Change my heart. Stop the violence. Feed the hungry. Comfort the grieving. Change my heart. Repair their marriage. Supply the money. Protect the Christians. Change my heart. Disarm the dictators. Give her direction. Change my heart. God never says, "Enough!" He never turns away the supplications and outpourings of the hearts of His people. In fact, He says, You don't pray enough. We don't pray about everything. We don't pray without ceasing. We don't pray enough. 

It was 4 AM when I let Luci into the backyard. She immediately cornered the neighbor's cat behind our burning bush. Luci, come! I demanded into the darkness. No response. I stepped back inside and closed the door, resigned to wait it out until they'd had enough. Of course, I could always pray. I don't pray enough.  

Midweek: As Certain as a Sidelined Priest

One of the first Bible stories --I'm going to call it a story for the moment, as that is how it was presented to me, "a story" --one of the first Bible stories I recall being taught was the story of Samuel and Eli. I still have the vision of a dark tabernacle, mats spread on the floor, and a young boy in a striped robe walking by candlelight toward the sleeping Eli. I imagine him pulling back a curtain and speaking the words, "Here I am, for you called me." But, as we know from 1 Samuel 3, it wasn't the voice of Eli that Samuel was hearing; it was God. And the message this poor youth was given to take back to his master was a message that proclaimed judgment, judgment for his master and his master's household. And it did indeed come. I'm not certain how long after this proclamation, Eli and his sons were struck down, but God's judgment continued to echo through the years. It was a judgment for Eli's entire household, and God continued to impose it more than a century later by removing Abiathar from the priesthood under Solomon's reign (1 Kings 2:26, 27). We are given the privilege of reading this in Scripture: Solomon removed Abiathar "that he might fulfill the word of the Lord which He spoke concerning the house of Eli." It's made clear even to those who aren't even paying attention. Was it as clear to Solomon?

Most of us go through our day, moment by moment carrying out the things we have set to do. Walk the dog, pay the mortgage, help the kids with their homework, take a few minutes to finish that best seller we're not quite as in love with as the person who recommended it. Those things often seem insignificant or inconsequential. We move from one thing to another effortlessly, thoughtlessly; checking boxes and indulging the mundane. Even when the unexpected occurs, we don't make any more of it than just responding to what is right before our eyes. We tend not to think in terms of the big picture unless we're counting the cost. Like Solomon. Just responding to Abiathar's offense with an appropriate consequence. But God does not forget His vows. Ten years, thirty years, ten thousand years; it doesn't matter. God will keep His word. That's one of the most obvious lessons of the Old Testament. And one of the most reassuring. From Genesis to the Magnificat, Jesus is prophesied. Thousands of years. And God doesn't wake up one morning and say, "Oh, yeah! I'd forgotten all about that!" He is working it all out (to us) little by little, and maybe, quite slowly. But that is not the case. He is a perfectionist. Everything must be ready. Everything must be just as He has designed. Everything must be in place. Every t must be crossed. Every i must be dotted. He is not careless or impulsive. He is not reactionary. He is true to His word. And He is waiting for all who would come, desiring that none should perish; holding out the scepter of welcome for all who would bow before the King. What He has promised --we can be certain --will come to pass. 

And this is the promise that He has promised us—eternal life. (1 John 2:25) There is no "maybe." There is no waiting for someone to return from the afterlife with 5x7 glossies. God has promised. And the new life He will give us, the way He will transform us, the fullness of joy in which we will walk --it's all as good as done for those who believe! And it's all as guaranteed --and maybe even as predictable --as a king demoting a disloyal priest.

  

répondez s'il vous plaît or not?

I was about eight months pregnant with my daughter and standing in front of an ice cream stand --Where else? --when someone made a rude remark about a mutual acquaintance. I half-heartedly joined in with some of the others in their laughter. I knew it was wrong; I claimed to be a Christian, but I wasn't a stand-up sort of person in those days. And, if I'm being candid, the question I sometimes ask myself is, Am I a stand-up person now? If given the opportunity to play that moment over again, would I speak up, remain silent, flash a look of judgment, or join --uncomfortably or not --in the laughter? How would I respond? By giving the cruel remark nothing but a well-timed side-eye and changing the subject, do I signal agreement or do I rob its hate of the acknowledgment it seeks? If I speak up, am I promoting virtue? Or am I giving rudeness more breath, more effort, more time in the spotlight than it truly deserves? To fight for something is to uphold its value, to preserve and, perhaps, increase its worth. And if we are not clear in our purpose, to fight against something may also provide it with value: time, attention, even blood. Does the fight add credence to the truth or the lie? Are we defending good or fighting evil? 

Think of the non-starter that would have remained so had it not been for the exposure granted it by well-meaning people who railed against it. Recall boycotts that served as free advertising for a little-known business and protests that actually heightened sympathy for the protested. Think, for example, of Christianity. Throughout the Book of Acts, we see the early church experiencing a great deal of persecution. And persecution exists even today! The savagery of those intending to shut down a transformative movement like Christianity, worked to draw attention to the truth. Who would willingly die in such a brutal fashion for a lie? The confidence with which people faced lions was beyond inspirational: it was humanly inexplicable! And, I guess, we have to ask the question, When the world errs or seeks to do wrong, is it always our duty to always speak up for what is true? Does walking away disarm a bully, rob a lie of credibility, leave a non-issue a non-issue? I'm asking because I don't have an answer. And I'm not sure there is one answer. I'm not convinced it's formulaic. 

I think there's great importance in depending on Christ alone, having His heart, and relating to others as He did. 1 Peter 3:15 says believers should be prepared to defend the hope we have, and the Scriptures are clear on our obligation to share the truth of the Gospel with others. We are to stand firm in our faith. But does that mean we come against every false belief or wrong behavior in the world? Is being right the same as being righteous? I don't think so. Sometimes the greatest battles take place in our own lives, the false beliefs and sinful behaviors we have allowed within the gates of our own hearts. The doomscrolling. The judgment. The gossip. And that's not to say we have no authority to call out the error or disobedience of others (if those "others" are believers, we absolutely must correct them in love), but sometimes it's all we can do to pound out the chinks in our own armor. We're not fighting flesh and blood, and we're not called to right every wrong or save every degenerate. In fact, we can't save one.

I think there's a time and a place to speak up. But I also think some of the most successful battles have been won when the people of God are wearing out their knees. When the opportunity strikes --whether in front of an ice cream stand or in the workplace, whether our children have said something outrageous or a spouse has made an assumption, when you are tasked with the choice of boldly defending what's right or quietly allowing a lie to make a fool of itself, before we open our mouths, before we walk away, let's ask our King how He would have us respond.