Musings on 1 Peter (3:17)

17: We have been encouraged to live well before all men. To live in such a way that warrants the question, "Why do you have such hope?" is to live the life of the Spirit. Psalm 118 speaks of the stone that the builders rejected, the stone that became the chief cornerstone. This stone is the one which the whole building rests upon. This stone determines our own position in the building. This building - made with living stones, little peters, both broken and unyeilding, fallen and firm, wretched and redeemed, sinner and saint  - this building will rise and will stand in the face of a cruel and wicked world. Can we not expect eggs to be thrown, windows to be broken, graffiti on the walls? We live in a world that hates Christ. As Christians, as little Christs, will not the world hate us as well? Will they not see our testimony of hope and despise us, ridicule us, revile us for it? Why would they not? To their eyes it is foolishness. In the light of their wisdom it is nonsense. To live by dying, understandably, does not at first seem like a good idea. It is not a safe place for the one protecting his own skin. But what the world does not understand is that we all live by dying. Either others die to our needs and demands - in which case, a tyrant emerges - or we die at the needs of others. Something must give. We, by the Spirit's leading, have chosen a life of selfless giving. This flies in the face of self-preservation, and therefore the world labels it suicide. But it is at precisely this point that they fail to understand how God's world works, not having eyes of faith. All the world is a tomb; this they understand well enough. But it is an empty one. And that has changed everything. Creation, fallen and broken, longs to see the physical and temporal restoration of all things, a restoration that has begun in the hearts and lives of the people created to inhabit it. To the blind world, we are rejoicing in a mausoleum. We are setting up shop in the cemetery. "Why?" they say. "What do you hope to accomplish?" "Spring," we reply. Spring. To the eyes of winter, spring seems ridiculous. The bare branches, shivering in the snow, will laugh at ideas of warmth and foliage. And so they persecute. They scorn. They despise. Even if the faithless world leaves us alone, we still must deal with a fallen wintered world, where bodies break and the ice grows strong. It is the testing ground of our hope. Do we really believe in a spring? Do we really believe that the tomb is empty, that all will be resurrected? Do we think Christ-like in all things, for the joy set before us? Do we endure our cross? Or do we complain, and whimper, and actually consider our sufferings - these momentary light afflictions - as something worthy to be compared to the indescribable glory to come? To put flesh on Paul's words, it is like preparing for a ten-year, all- expense-paid vacation to your dream-location. A few seconds before you board the plane, you get a toothache. Not even a very bad one at that. In those brief moments, would we despair of ever seeing our waiting paradise? Would we say to ourselves, "It just isn't worth it. It just hurts too much. Maybe there won't be a vacation. Maybe there is no such thing as a dream-location at all,"? Of course not. The joy of a ten-year paid-vacation would be overwhelming. So overwhelming that a little toothache would probably go completely unnoticed. Now, I do not wish to make light of our present sufferings. They are many, and they are real. But neither do I want to make more of them than the apostle Paul does. And when it comes to toothaches, he had the worst. We are going to suffer, because Christ suffered, and we are not better than our Master. It is better to suffer for the right reasons than for the wrong ones. Suffer for hope rather than for stupidity. Suffer for trusting in truth rather than doubting what is real. When we suffer for righteousness' sake, we suffer the blows on the outside. By the mercy of God, we are given armor for this, and its name is Hope and Joy. But if we suffer for wallowing in our own filth, we suffer the blows on the inside, and no armor in the world can protect us from that. In the mire, we call our sin by another name. We spew our own filth onto those that rub us the wrong way, on those that expose the sin we are hiding. So trust not in yourself. Hope in God. Spring will come. These branches will bear fruit. The Sun has already risen, and the snow has already begun to melt.

Psalm 36

Sin is a talker. Sin saddles up next to the wicked and whispers sweet nothings into their ear. David says of the wicked, "Sin speaks deep in his heart." There is no God, it says. These words tickle the ears and comfort the hearts of unrepentant sinners. No God, no consequence for action. No God, perfect liberty to live in such a way that pleases and gratifies every desire. "My sin can never be found out," they say. "My sin cannot be hated." An interesting and telling fear. Innate in every human is the need to be loved and respected. The lack of these two gifts, often self-induced, leads to all manner of rebellion, under the name of 'compensation.' We convince ourselves that our own actions and personalities cannot be hated or despised. The problem could never reside in us. More sweet nothings spoken deep in our heart. Aptly named, for they are sweet to the ear, but have no substance. We lie to ourselves, convinced by our own sin, that no one will hate our iniquity. It is the rare individual who works evil out of pure apathy. The common sinner will truly believe his sin will be seen as noble and true. David speaks rightly, "he has ceased to act wisely." A nice way of saying he has descended into nonsense. He who becomes wise in his own eyes becomes a fool in the eyes of everyone else. The deceived sinner turns inward, seeing no one else, trusting no one else. He lies awake at night, trusting his own counsel. He has lost all discernment.

What a contrast with the mercy of our heavenly Father! David makes the difference plain to see. The wicked turn inward, almost collapsing into themselves. The steadfast love of the Lord however, "extends to the heavens, Your faithfulness to the clouds." As high as the mountains reach, so too His righteousness; as deep and as unfathomable as the great ocean depths, so too are His judgements. The salvation of the Lord spans His creation, to both man and beast. This point exemplifies the nature of both sin and righteousness. All sin is inward focused. Love and righteousness are entirely outward in their trajectories. Sin lies in bed at night, plotting pettily. Righteousness sheds light on all, brings light to all, becomes light in all that dwell in truth. It seeks not only the wellbeing of others, but of all creation. It views this world as a garden to be tended, as a gift to be enjoyed, and as a city to be filled.

David encourages us with the truth that there is no where we can go where the faithfulness of God has not already gone. Whether it be the uttermost depths of the sea, or the furtherest reaches of the stars, He is there, and there He loves. This love is precious precisely at this point. It is a treasure more valuable the gold. For in His love we rest, we feast, we drink, we see. In the shadow of wings we take refuge. On the abundance of His house, we feast. From the river of delights, we drink. In His light, we see light. The children of mankind partake of the fountain of life, life that is breathed and spoken.

Father we ask that you would continue to show us your steadfast love and your righteousness. We only know you because you have known us. We are only upright in heart, because we dwell in Christ. Keep us Lord, from the arrogant one, and do not let the wicked drive us away from Your presence. Indeed, how could they for You are all places. All places are before Your face. And there the evil cannot stand. Wickedness and injustice have no strength in their knees. They collapse before you, unable to stand before you. They seek to use their borrowed strength to rise against you, but they cannot. In this truth we rest, knowing our cause will be heard, and our righteousness, which is Christ, will be upheld. Blessed by the Name of the Lord. And Amen.

Thanksgiving Day 2011

Thanksgiving Day. The parade is on the TV, Reformation-era Thanksgiving hymns are on the stereo, and two eager carcasses are bubbling away on the stove in a warm bath of onion-apple water and brandy. I lean over to my wife and tell her "thanks honey." She asks what for, and I reply, "I don't know. It's just Thanksgiving." She chuckles, and I get back to finishing the dishes. As I'm loading silverware into the dishwasher rack, I'm thinking about what I just said. What is gratitude without reason? Honestly, it isn't anything. It's just words. Thanksgiving must have a reason because it is a response, not the initial act. I am thankful for something and to someone for services rendered unto me. I am thankful to my wife for her love, and her patience, to name just two from the warehouse of reasons. If I am to be truly grateful, I must know what it is I am grateful for, what it was that someone did for me.

In this regard, Thanksgiving Day is not unlike every Sunday of the year. In fact, Thanksgiving Day is only possible because of the year's abundance of Sundays. Every Lord's Day we celebrate what our Fathers called The Eucharist, a greek word simply meaning "I Thank." This term was applied to the Table because it is at precisely there that we, as God's guests, say thank you to our Host. We have been invited into the household of God. Our feet have been washed. We have entered the door. We have sat at His feet with Martha's sister and listened to His word. We are now called to the table: "Dinner is ready!" comes the longed-for voice. At the table we find a feast of bread and wine spread before us. And we are bid, "Come and eat. This is given for you." The only response is to say "Thank you" and eat.

Those two carcasses bubbling away on the stove speak volumes of the true meaning of Thanks. Every "thank you" finds that it is a response to some form of sacrifice. Someone did something for you that took, at the very least, time that could have been used doing something else. Instead, they sacrificed that time for your benefit, and in response we say "thank you." Every true and loving sacrifice finds, at its root, the cross. Death for life. In the death of the God-Man there is life, for in His death, death died. Death is no longer our enemy, but our mode of life. As we love others more than ourselves, we are picking up our cross, we are dying daily. It no longer carries the stigma of fear and the unknown. Rather, death now has become the very way of life. It is the very basis for our thanksgiving.

And so I give thanks for the turkey. I give thanks for the carcass that, even in death, is giving us not only mere sustenance, but depth of flavor and rich joy. It is by means of death that we live and enjoy our table today. It is by means of the Death, and the subsequent conquering of Death, that we live and enjoy life at all. So let us live. Let us enjoy. By doing so we say, "Thank you."

Musings on 1 Peter (3:15-16)

15-16: Have no fear, Peter encourages us. Do not fear the one at whose hand you suffer, for you endure in the hands of one far stronger. In the inner man honor Christ. With not only your outward actions, but with the inward thoughts of the heart, honor Christ. In honoring Him we acknowledge that He is God, and that we are not; we confess our complete dependence on Him, owning our own inability to live uprightly in our own strength; and we trust the story that He is telling through the different chapters of our life, knowing, as we do, the last page of the book. We honor Him as holy. We acknowledge Him to be set apart, a name above all names, the name which every tongue will confess, and in front of whom every knee will bow. He is the Lord, and there is no other. We confess our own unholiness, our falling short of the standard. But we trust that His righteousness, and the beauty of His holiness covers us, and transforms us into sons and daughters worthy of the Name, made holy and set apart for service under His banner. It is through acknowledging, confessing, and trusting that we are able to give a defense of the hope that resides in us.

We are to be ready at all times to defend the faith to those who question our hope. This presupposes a transparent cup, where the outside allows outsiders to see what the cup contains. If our external lives do not give anyone the notion to ask about our hope, we are failing to honor Christ the Lord as holy. If to the watching world we look no different than every hopeless son of Adam among their ranks, then we need to take a hard look at the inside of our cup, and ask if there really is hope within. What hope do we have that our lives have purpose, that our suffering has meaning, that every day is drawing us closer to a three times Holy God who has declared Himself our Father? Do we live in such a way that such hope is plain to see? We are children of the Living God who made all things. He is in the process of making all things new. He has taken us out of the kingdom of darkness and placed us in the kingdom of everlasting light. If there is no hope in Him, there is no hope anywhere. But indeed there is hope, for we belong to Him. Therefore be at ease to live in such a way that banks on that hope. This hope is not a wishing well, it is a foundation of solid stone. It will hold the house of life through wind and storm. And this is the defense that we give when onlookers see our house standing firm against the rain. Why do we hope, they ask? What reasons do we have for hoping against all hope that our lives will not crumble into nothingness and eternal void? Our defense is this: First, we are already nothing. In our own shirts we are of no importance. We can crumble no further than our father Adam already did. Secondly, there is no void, for the God of Heaven and Earth has filled every conceivable and inconceivable space with the beauty of His holiness. The risen Christ has turned the world upside down and emptied its pockets. Light has filled the dark corners. The mountains have been brought low, and the valleys are lifted up. The world is a different place. It has a new center of gravity. He sits enthroned in Heaven, and He has called us friend. Who can help but hope? This is our defense. This is the reason for the hope that is within us. We are in the middle act of a three act comedy. Everything is jumbled and confused. The villain is still at large. Not all wrongs have yet been made right. But they will. The sun rises and we know that day is here. The Son has risen, the Day is upon us. Therefore Christian, hope. As the with the passing of night, so too with our sufferings. After winter, spring.

But be gentle in your reasoning. Trust the sovereignty of God in the manner of your defense. Show respect to all, so that through the purity and grace of your response, the Lord might put to shame those who slander your good name, and revile your upright behavior. It is not our job or our place to convince the unbelieving world that we are in the right. We can no more convince an unbelieving heart than turn coal into diamonds using nothing but our words. Our words carry little power, only reflected power. The One who holds all things by the power of His word, His words have creative power. His words become galaxies of stars, thick with matter. Only such a Voice can speak life where once was death, flesh where once was stone. Our role is to defend with a cheerful and gentle heart. If we do so trusting God for the outcome, the burden of saving people will be lifted from our shoulders and we will be free to simply share what God has done for us. If we are reviled for trusting in such a God then we put to shame those who revile, for their taunting carries no water. They reduce themselves to a playground bully, insecure in their own skin, forced to find fault in others, lest they are overwhelmed by the emptiness within. But this is exactly why we defend our hope in the face of such harassment. God brings low those who lift themselves up. In bringing them low He exposes their need for grace, their need for the hope that is within us. Then we see that He has placed us in just the right spot to not only defend the hope, but also offer it to the lowly. In such a way, the Father brings all His children home.