What my Jewish brother taught me
Some of my best friends are Jewish.
To start with, there’s Jesus. You know, the one they crucified so that you and I could be born anew into resurrection life. He’s my friend. He’s Jewish.
Oh, and then there’s Paul. You know, the one who told Gentiles (non-Jews) about Jesus, and wrote all those letters explaining what Jesus had done that was so important, and what it means to belong to Him. I’ve never met Paul, but I have read what he wrote about Jesus — quite a few times in fact — and I’ve learned a lot from him. His writings are one of the reasons I believe in Jesus. I think that makes Paul my friend, even if not in the usual way. By the way, he’s Jewish too.
But Jesus and Paul aren’t my only Jewish friends. Let me tell you about Jean-Claude, who has been a friend and mentor to me for over two decades.
When I first met Jean-Claude, I didn’t know he was Jewish. Neither did he. I thought of him as a gentle French-Canadian pastor with a gift for building bridges between people of different languages and cultures, and an uncanny ability to see into people’s souls – well, mine anyway. I often found myself telling him things that I probably wouldn’t have said to anyone else, and he always seemed to understand.
A few years ago, Jean-Claude learned through genealogical research that several of his ancestors on both his father’s and his mother’s side were Jewish. They had hidden their Jewish identity to avoid being persecuted by the Gentile church. History shows that this was not an unfounded fear. So, they lived as Jews at home, observing Shabbat in secret every week, hiding their Jewish identity behind a Catholic exterior as they attended Mass every Sunday.
I was in high school (where I had several Jewish friends) when Fiddler on the Roof had its first run on Broadway. Although the story is fictional, it is based on events that were repeated many times over, throughout many centuries, in “Christian” Europe. When I first saw the film version, I remember being deeply ashamed of the hateful actions of the Tsarist soldiers towards the Jews of their village – actions they justified by labelling the Jews as Christ-killers.
When Jean-Claude first told me of his Jewish roots, he seemed unsure what response to expect from me. I didn’t call him a Christ-killer. I gave him a hug and told him how delighted I was to discover that I had a Jewish brother.
It is true that the leaders of Israel rejected Jesus, and conspired to have him killed. But that does not make me – a Gentile – innocent of his death. I am as guilty as they, and like them I am declared innocent through His sacrifice, not because of my own righteousness. As a Gentile believer, I live only because He shed his blood and rose again for me, as does every believing Jew. And I cannot overlook the fact that while a majority of the Jewish people rejected Jesus as Messiah, there were also many in Israel who received his message with joy. Most of the first generation of apostles were Jewish. They took the gospel to many Gentile nations, often at great cost. Without their testimony, none of us who believe in Jesus today would ever had heard his name.
True, Jesus prophesied great wrath and distress against Jerusalem because of her rejection of her Messiah. But he spoke these words more in sorrow than in anger, weeping over this city which he so dearly loved. And even in his warnings of wrath and desolation, there was also a promise that one day Jerusalem would again welcome him and bless his name.
And what about Paul, the Jewish apostle whose main ministry was to the Gentiles? What did he have to say about his own people, Israel? On the one hand, he called his people enemies of the gospel because of their rejection of Jesus. On the other hand, he yearned for their salvation, called them beloved by God and affirmed that they had not been rejected by him. And he looked for a time – a time for which my Messianic Jewish friends still yearn, and for which they labour – when all Israel would be saved.
There are many issues regarding Israel that are beyond the scope of this post. My only goal here is to stir up love and prayer in the hearts of Gentile believers towards the people of Israel, from whom our Messiah, the Son of David, was born. Christians may legitimately differ on many things, but when it comes to love, we are not given any option.
It is true that Israel is not innocent. Nor is any people group on the face of the earth. But it’s not up to me to judge Israel. I am deeply grateful for the people of Israel, through whom the blessing of the gospel has come to all nations of the earth. As a Gentile believer in Jesus, I am instructed by Paul, my Jewish brother, not to be arrogant over Israel’s failure, but to walk in humility and love towards this suffering, hardened, blinded people until that glorious and long-awaited day comes when their eyes are opened and they receive the mercy of God.
It is my belief that this day is fast approaching, though it will not come without turmoil and suffering. So I will continue to pray for my Jewish brothers and sisters who love Jesus as I do, and believe with them for the day when the rest of their long-suffering people receive their Messiah.
New Year’s Letter
What follows is a New Year’s letter to my children. I decided to post it on my blog because I realized that the things I wanted to say to my children are really a message from the Father’s heart, things he wants everyone to hear. My prayer is that these words from my heart will be an encouragement to your faith.
To my dear children, whom I love with all my heart.
As we enter a new year, there are three simple things that I want to say to you.
The first thing I want to tell you is how much the Father loves you.
As I get older, my faith is getting simpler and simpler. I have been wrong – or at least partly wrong – about some things that I was once sure of. That’s because I was sure of far too many things. But in his mercy, God has been at work in my life, shaking everything that can be shaken, so that what cannot be shaken may remain. We can have opinions and preferences about many things, but there are only a few things that really matter. God Himself – His goodness and holiness and love and trustworthiness – is the most important foundation stone of all.
Despite my best intentions, my own capacity to show you a true father’s love has been imperfect, limited and inconsistent, but His love never fails those who trust Him. Beyond the shadow of a doubt, no matter what happens to you, to those you love, and to the world, the Father is completely trustworthy. He is consistently faithful, merciful, kind and good to those who put their hope in Him and in His Son Jesus.
Yes, the Father loves you. He made you for love, He knows your name, He knows everything about you – even the worst parts – and still He loved you enough that He gave His Son to redeem you. He loves you enough to pursue you until you have yielded fully and freely to His embrace – until you have surrendered every corner of your life to His transforming power.
The second thing I want to tell you is that in this world you will have trouble. I’m not just talking about the personal troubles of illness, grief, poverty, and other misfortunes that can afflict us. In a world that has been marred by the evil one, these things are real enough, but they will not endure forever.
No, I’m talking about something bigger. For reasons that would take too long to list here, I have come to believe that the final great crisis of history is drawing near. The age-old battle between dark and light is becoming more intense and more prominent.
I won’t get into the game of predicting details or dates, because there is nothing to be gained by speculating on things that Jesus has told us we cannot know. It only leads to fear and disillusionment. But Jesus does instruct us to pay attention to the signs of the times. All over the world the message of the Kingdom of God is spreading. At the same time, all over the world the powers of darkness are increasing their attacks on the people of the light.
In the midst of such a time, I want to plead with you not to let the Enemy lull you to sleep with apathy or false security, or blind you with despair or cynicism. Stay awake! The troubles of life – both your personal troubles, and the upheavals of a world in crisis – are not just things you have to endure helplessly. They are signposts to point you to Jesus. God is able to provide for His people no matter what is going on around you. He has given you strength to stand – and not only to stand but to triumph.
The third thing I want to tell you is that as troubles increase, so will opportunities also increase. Marion and I have been experiencing the drawing of the Holy Spirit in recent months. God has been opening doors of faith to us as we have become more watchful, more expectant and more attuned to the leading of the Holy Spirit. All around us there are people who are hungry to know the living God. All around us there are opportunities to serve, to do good, to bless others, to sow the seeds of the Kingdom of God – the Kingdom that will come openly on the earth when Jesus returns.
Creation is groaning with the birth pangs of the age to come. Our final redemption is drawing near. This age is coming to an end, and the Lord is returning. The Holy Spirit is awakening the people of God, calling us to fresh faith and love, so that those who belong to Jesus will be ready for Him when He returns, as a bride who has made herself beautiful for her wedding day.
So be encouraged, be full of faith, be watchful. Don’t build your lives, your hopes, your expectations on things that will crumble. Build on the one foundation that will stand secure when everything else falls apart. He is changing everything. He is making everything new. He is shaking all things so that He may restore all things. Those who put their hope in Him, and do not waver or lose hope in the midst of the shaking, will see His glory.
That, and nothing less, is what you are called to. Marion and I are believing for every one of you to shine like the sun in the Kingdom of your Father. We love you and Jesus loves you.
Why I celebrate Christmas
A couple of weeks ago, Marion and I watched the 1984 production of Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, in which Ebenezer Scrooge is set free from his addiction to greed, and discovers again the joy of celebrating Christmas.
Lots of people have tackled the topic of what Christmas is really all about. Dickens addressed this topic in an uncommonly memorable way. I’m no Charles Dickens, but at the risk of repeating the obvious, here are my thoughts on why Christmas is still worth celebrating.
When you get right down to it, Christmas is about hope. Lately I have been re-reading the words that the angel Gabriel spoke to Mary and to Joseph in the months leading up to Jesus’ birth. Something unprecedented was beginning! A new age of hope and salvation was about to dawn with the birth of this child.
Earlier this year, my friend Ken Hall lost his son Rob to an untimely death. Rob had been serving as a missionary in Zambia, teaching Bible and sustainable agriculture, when he was killed in a freakish construction accident just shy of his 39th birthday. He left a wife and three children as well as many grieving loved ones and friends.
Were it not for their hope in Jesus, Ken and Lois could easily have given way to despair in the face of such tragedy. Instead, because of their hope in the resurrection, they have been afflicted … but not crushed by these events. In his Christmas letter, Ken writes that he and Lois have found strength in their season of need through meditating on the words of Paul in Colossians 1, where he speaks of the hope that is stored up for us in heaven.
Ken goes on to explain,
The hope Paul was talking about is what comes from the resurrection of Jesus from death. He proclaimed it as an observable time and space fact, not a subjective religious experience or psychologically induced wish. He says over 500 people in different places and at different times encountered the risen Jesus [...] He said Jesus’ resurrection was the basis of our hope that those who die in faith in Him are not “lost”; that our hope for an age of peace and justice is founded on the resurrection; that an end of the obscenity of sickness, aging and death was assured because of it. He said that from this hope, faith and love would spring [...] This year we have been in need of it and no other religion or world-view gives any [emphasis added].
I couldn’t have said it better. If Jesus has truly been raised from the dead, then He is the only Saviour of the world. If not, he is a fraud. There is no middle position. Ever since I yielded my life to Jesus over twenty-five years ago, I have carefully examined his character and the fruit He produces in the lives of those who genuinely love and serve Him, and I am fully convinced that Jesus is no fraud. In the face of sickness and death, personal loss, economic uncertainty, and the rising tide of brutal oppression in many lands, Jesus gives hope that is real, not counterfeit.
No other man has ever had such insight into the human heart. No other man has ever been so truthful and yet kind, so gentle and yet tough and uncompromising, so consistently faithful, so willing to pay the price of his proclamation with his life. No other man’s character has ever qualified him to pay with his life for the sins of the world. No other man has ever been raised from the dead never to die again. The only conclusion open to me is that Jesus is exactly who His first followers proclaimed him to be – the Messiah of Israel and the hope of all the earth, who is coming again in glory to restore all things.
This is the Jesus of Christmas. This is the one whose birth the angels heralded with their songs of praise. This is the one whose coming we celebrate. All other powers will eventually be dethroned by him. I am fully convinced that Jesus is the only credible hope we have, and there is nothing intolerant about saying so openly. On the contrary, it would be a great injustice to those in need of hope to give them any other message.
So, I will celebrate Christmas. And it will be Jesus, not Santa, that I am celebrating. Don’t get me wrong - I have nothing against reindeer and fat men in red suits, I like cold snowy winter days and Christmas lights, I enjoy giving and receiving gifts, I love roast turkey, and I appreciate the other seasonal treats and goodies as much as the next person. But when the angels appeared to the shepherds on the first Christmas Eve, they did not announce a new season of snowflakes, Christmas trees, reindeer, fat men in red suits, cookies and turkey. They announced that the Messiah had been born. So, the focus of my celebrations will be the One who came to earth to bring the hope of forgiveness, restoration and resurrection to a lost race. He, and none other, is our hope.
Jesus has conquered sin and death, and he is alive today! He is present with his people in this age by the Holy Spirit, and he is coming again on the clouds of heaven to bring in a new age when all things will be made new. That’s a hope worth celebrating. That’s why I celebrate his birth.
Merry Christmas!
Lighting up the neighbourhood
This year I went all-out on Christmas lights. Well, all-out for me, anyway. Back in November I took advantage of Home Depot’s special offer on new Christmas lights for customers who bring in their old lights for recycling, and bought several strings of new energy-efficient LED lights. Our house is now brightly lit up for Christmas, both outside and inside.
So what? No big deal. Lots of people buy Christmas lights.
Still, for me, this was a significant departure. I have always been a minimalist as far as outdoor Christmas lights were concerned. Conservation and environmental preservation were important values to me. We only ever had one small string of lights outdoors, and they weren’t very visible from the street.
This year, encouraged by the fact that our old lights would be responsibly recycled and that the new LED lights would be more energy-efficient as well as brighter, I broke with my minimalist past. Now we have two much longer strings of lights in the front yard, and another two along the fence in our back yard. The new lights have really made a difference. Our house looks much brighter and more attractive from the street. Even the ones in the back, as well as being nice to look at from our kitchen window, are visible from many of the neighbouring homes, and also from the street behind us.
Marion and I live in Vanier – a part of Ottawa that has been known as the home of crack houses and brothels. This is an unfortunate caricature. Although Vanier is not completely free of problems (and probably never will be on this side of Jesus’ return), it is in many ways a delightful place to live. Crack houses and brothels still exist, but their numbers are greatly reduced. More and more people are fixing up their homes, cleaning up their parks, planting flowers in the summer and flooding skating rinks in the winter, walking the neighbourhood to keep an eye on problem properties, holding community parties and in various ways choosing to love the place they call home.
All of this is wonderful, and to a great extent it is an answer to prayer. But as a believer in Jesus, I am hungry to see community transformation taken to a whole new level. Vanier has been known as a dark place, and Marion and I want it to be a place where the Light of Christ shines brightly as more and more people recognize Jesus as their Lord.
So, I decided to buy more lights.
At first I didn’t quite know why I was doing this. But gradually it dawned on my that my out-of-character decision to splurge on Christmas lights was a prophetic statement about what Marion and I want to see happen in our home and on our block. We want our home to be a lighthouse – a place where it’s easy to get connected with the goodness of God. We want our block, and the blocks around us, to be full of the glory of Christ as more and more people get to know that God is good and that they can trust Jesus to be the Lord of their lives. Lighting up our home for Christmas was a way of declaring all this – to ourselves, to the Lord, and to our neighbours – anyone with eyes to see.
Jolly old St Nicholas
When I was a child, December 5 – St Nicholas Eve – was an important and tremendously exciting date on our family’s holiday calendar. In the evening, we children sang our songs to Sinterklaas and put our wooden shoes by the fireplace in expectation that the kindly old man would visit us with gifts of chocolate, mandarin oranges, and other treats. And he never failed. At some point during my growing up years, I began to notice some clues that my parents seemed to have a lot to do with Sinterklaas’ annual visit, and it dawned on me that Sinterklaas might not be real. I remember being quite disappointed at this revelation.
Several weeks later, when Christmas arrived, the centrepiece of our family celebration was a Christmas Eve carol service. This event took place not in a church building, but in our living room by firelight and candlelight, and was followed by a story which usually conveyed a message of kindness, mercy and hospitality. And so, in our not-very-devout home, we nevertheless heard each year the age-old story of the coming of Jesus into our world as bringer of forgiveness, light and hope. Somehow, I absorbed the message that Christmas was not about stuff. It was primarily about Jesus, and secondarily about showing kindness to each other and to others in need. My parents were wise enough to realize that it wouldn’t work to completely insulate their children from North American ways, so in deference to the customs of our new land we did also exchange gifts with one another on Christmas Day. However, I remember the gift-giving as relatively modest – although still accompanied by lots of fun and excitement.
In eighteenth century New York (formerly New Amsterdam), where Dutch and English speaking settlers lived side by side, Sinterklaas morphed into Santa Claus and became part of North American Christmas tradition. Over the years, many layers of mythology and tradition were added. My wife having grown up in a more typical Canadian home, the Santa Claus tradition was deeply embedded in her family’s Christmas observances, and as a young married couple we had discussions about how we would observe Christmas. Both of us wanted the main focus of our Christmas celebration to be on Jesus, not Santa Claus. I also had a concern about telling our children stories which we would later have to retract. So, after much discussion in the early years of our marriage, it was decided that in our home, we would give Christmas gifts to one another and to those in need, but there would be no gifts from Santa.
We did, however, read our children a variety of Christmas stories. Among them were a couple of renditions of the life and deeds of the historical St Nicholas, who was a pastor in Asia Minor (present-day Turkey) during the fourth century AD. Although it’s difficult to accurately separate legend from history so many years after the fact, the web site of the St Nicholas Centre paints quite a believable picture of what the real Nicholas may have been like. If the stories are reliable, it seems that Nicholas was known as an advocate for victims of injustice, and a friend to the poor who often gave financial help to those in distress. Was he jolly, as the Santa Claus legend indicates? I don’t know, but I hope so. The Bible says that God loves a cheerful giver. When our children were young, our family went through several years of living on a very modest budget. Still, as a father, one of the Biblical values I wanted to impart to my children was the value of giving to those in need. We used to have an offering box for missionaries, to which our children all contributed out of their allowance and other earnings. I loved the story of St Nicholas partly because it reinforced this core Biblical value, and helped provide a balance to the consumerism that has infected Christmas in our culture.
My children are grown up now, and two beautiful granddaughters have been added to the family circle. I love giving gifts to my children and grandchildren. I know that the best gift of all is Jesus, and I know that he takes great delight in lavishing His mercy on us. But I also know that he doesn’t care only about me and my family. He is delighted when our lives overflow with generous love towards those in material or spiritual need. I’m grateful for the example of Nicholas, a man who was a generous conduit of God’s love to the lost, poor and oppressed. I want my family’s values to reflect the generous heart of a good God who has taught us that it is more blessed to give than to receive.
Letting Jesus shine through the cracks
I grew up in a Dutch immigrant family. When I was born, my family had been in Canada for only two years, and during the early years of my childhood, the Dutch identity was quite strong. I grew up speaking Dutch, though by the time I went to school, English had become predominant in our home. But the differences went deeper than language. Not that I realized this at the time – young children don’t reflect on how their family operates, they just accept it as the way the world is – but looking back, I realize that even though we were light-skinned like all our neighbours, in many ways we were quite different from the other families around us.
One of the times of year when the differences were most evident was in the way we celebrated Advent and Christmas. Although my family was not particularly devout, during December we had regular times of singing Christmas carols, using an Advent calendar as a worship centre. The Advent calendar in our home had nothing to do with chocolate. It was made of coloured cardboard (bristolboard) with a wax paper backing, and consisted of a Bethlehem scene, showing the shepherds on a hillside overlooking the town, with a dark blue sky full of stars. The stars were cutouts, so that at the beginning of Advent there were no stars in the sky, and then on each day of Advent another cutout piece would be removed and another star would appear. There were larger stars for the four Sundays of Advent, and the largest one of all – situated right over the stable in the Bethlehem scene – was reserved for Christmas Eve. In the evenings, the family would gather around the Advent calendar, the youngest child would remove another star from the sky, an older child would light a candle behind the calendar, we would turn out most of the lights, and the light from the candle would shine through the wax paper backing in the places where the cutout stars had been removed. We would then sing a few Christmas carols by candlelight. We did this most evenings during Advent, culminating in a special family Christmas Eve service of readings and carols.
As a young child, I didn’t fully understand why we were doing this, but I used to find it tremendously exciting. The beauty of this observance awakened a sense of wonder in me, and a simple understanding of the gospel message was planted in my heart through the Christmas carols – some in Dutch and some in English. Of all the Christmas customs that I grew up with, this is one that I have been able to pass on to my children. Marion and I have had an Advent calendar in our home for years, and when our children were growing up our family, too, used it as a focus for family worship every December.
This morning, the Advent calendar is in place in our home, ready for the annual ritual. There are no stars showing yet in the night sky, and the cardboard scene is stiff and stands up easily. As the cutout stars are removed day by day, one of the side effects is that the whole structure becomes more flexible because it is full of holes. The star-shaped holes are what make it beautiful – they allow the light to shine through – but they also mean that the calendar has to be handled with care and a gentle touch. At the beginning of the annual ritual, the whole structure is fairly strong and stable. It can stand by itself with no problem. By the time Christmas comes, and all the cutout stars have been removed, it is full of holes and therefore much weaker and more flexible. But if the candles are lit and the light is allowed to shine through the cracks and holes, it is also far more beautiful than in its original state.
This morning it occurred to me that my life is like that Advent calendar. If I want the light of Christ to shine through, I have to be willing to let the cracks and holes in my life be uncovered. We all like to present the image of ourselves as strong, self-assured, in control, with our weaknesses well covered up. But Jesus exalts those who humble themselves. If I succeed in convincing those around me that I am capable, knowledgeable and in control, they may be impressed. But if I humble myself and allow my cracks and weaknesses to show, without pretending to be more than I am, then the light of Christ can shine through my life in increasing measure, bringing glory to Jesus and hope to those around me who also have lots of cracks in their lives.
For Christ’s sake I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:10)
The power of hospitality
Most Christians, if asked to list five of the attributes of God, would probably come up with words like loving, powerful, forgiving, just, holy, and so forth.
These are all important descriptors of God’s character as it is revealed to us in the Bible and supremely in Jesus Christ. But today I am thinking of another word that powerfully sums up how God deals with sinful, weak, needy people.
The word is hospitality. I was reminded of this attribute of God’s character by a recent post on Richard Long’s excellent blog at Together Canada. Hospitality is a trait that I would normally associate with people, not with God. Yet, when we understand Him as He is described in Scripture and portrayed by Jesus, we see that our God is amazingly hospitable.
Looking at the gospels, we see that in one of his parables, Jesus depicted God as a concerned father welcoming his runaway son home to his household and throwing a party for him. Jesus tells us elsewhere that in his Father’s household there is room for all his children to find a home. Jesus himself is depicted in Scripture as the coming Bridegroom who welcomes all who place their hope in Him to His wedding banquet. Our God longs to welcome people in, that they may find their home in Him.
When we look at the qualifications for elders in the New Testament, we discover that the New Testament church placed high value on hospitality as a trait for leaders. Evidently, the first century apostles understood that Jesus’ sheep need leaders who reflect His generous, hospitable heart.
Last night Marion and I watched Harvey, a movie from an earlier era of cinematography. Harvey was originally filmed in 1950, and I found it interesting to see how movie making has changed in 60 years. But beyond the technical aspects, what struck me most in this movie was the generous and hospitable nature of the film’s lead character, Elwood P. Dowd, played by Jimmy Stewart. Dowd is portrayed as a middle-aged eccentric who has inherited a fortune and does not have to work for a living. Rather than pursuing the business opportunities that would have been wide open to someone of his means, Dowd goes through life talking to an invisible 6 foot 3 inch rabbit. He spends most of his time at the local bar (where his invisible friend is quite welcome), listening to people that no-one else except the bartender has time for, and frequently inviting them to his home for dinner. This exasperates his sister and niece, who share his home. To be truthful, almost any normal person would find it difficult to live with someone as impractical, unpredictable and eccentric as Elwood P. Dowd. That said, he is an uncommonly likeable character, who excels in kindness and generosity.
When I woke up this morning, I realized that God was speaking to me through this aspect of the film. He showed me again the power of a hospitable life to communicate the good news of Jesus to people who are hungry for spiritual reality.
When we open our homes and our lives to people who are hungry and thirsty for true life, and become their friends, our understanding of what it means to share the gospel of Jesus undergoes a radical transformation. Instead of being a project, evangelism truly becomes a way of life. It is no longer just a matter of verbally communicating spiritual truth, or even praying with people for them to receive Jesus or for the Holy Spirit to touch their lives – although both of these aspects remain important. When we open our homes and our hearts to people, trust is fostered in the people we befriend, and over time, God uses this atmosphere of acceptance and friendship to prepare their hearts for genuine conversion. This, of course, requires that we be transparent with those we are reaching out to, so that they can see us as we really are. That’s how disciples are made – through relationships of honesty and trust, in which the good news of Jesus is communicated on many levels.
Marion and I have been rediscovering the transforming power of hospitality over the past several weeks as the Holy Spirit has opened the door to a friendship with our next-door neighbours. It all started this past summer when Orlando Suarez, a church-planter from Cuba, visited our life group on several occasions this past summer. Orlando spoke to us of his passion for sharing the good news of Jesus with the people in his neighbourhood. As I listened to him, I realized that the Spirit of God was speaking to me and telling me to become more active in reaching out to our neighbourhood. Marion and I invited several people to our home to watch the Alpha videos and talk about the true meaning of life. The couple next door accepted our invitation, and it has been a delightful experience getting to know them better. We had already been on good terms before beginning this process. But now, the relationship is changing from cordial to intimate. As we talk about the Alpha videos and their growing realization that Jesus is alive, we are becoming spiritual friends. In this atmosphere of friendship, lives are being changed.
This, it seems to me, is what happened over and over again in the ministry of Jesus and the Apostles. I once did a survey of pivotal or life-changing events in the gospels and the Book of Acts, and discovered that a great many of them took place in someone’s home. When Jesus dropped in to Zaccheus’ house for dinner, someone’s life was changed because Jesus took time to accept hospitality from a man that any self-respecting religious teacher wouldn’t go near. Jesus knew Zaccheus needed to repent. By inviting himself to Zaccheus’ home for a meal, Jesus honoured this man whom others rejected, and offered an atmosphere of acceptance that made it easy for Zaccheus to turn away from his self-focussed life and make things right with God.
So – how are you doing with hospitality? It’s not really about how nice a home you have. That doesn’t matter. Your home doesn’t have to be spotless or elegant. Hospitality is not entertainment. And you don’t have to be limited to offering hospitality in your home. You can also offer hospitality in a friend’s house or apartment, a restaurant, a bar, a hospital, a workplace, a prison, or even on a street corner. It’s really about making time for relationship and having an open heart.
To be truthful, I’m not very good at this. I’m still learning. But Jesus is very good at it, and he is teaching me how to let my life be a vehicle for His ministry of hospitality. It’s all about learning to rest in the Father’s goodness, and invite others to come into His household and discover His delightfully generous love.
How shall we now live?
This Remembrance Day evening, my family and I are watching the 1998 World War II movie Saving Private Ryan. I find this movie mostly disturbing rather than enjoyable. It does have its moments of beauty, but mostly I appreciate it because it provides such a powerful opportunity for reflection, making it well worth the investment of time and emotional energy.
I won’t attempt in one blog post to explore all the levels of meaning that can be teased out of this complex story, but will content myself with the one over-riding question that it poses.
In the opening and closing scenes of the movie, Private Ryan returns as an old man to the grave of the officer who died leading the mission that rescued him. He remembers the awful horror of the battle for his freedom, and looks for some reassurance that he has lived a life worthy of the sacrifice that was offered up for him. He recognizes that his life in some sense is not his own. He says that ever since eight brave men died so that he could live, every day of his life he has thought about the debt he owes to those eight men who gave up their lives so that he could be saved from death and restored to his family.
The great question posed by this movie is also the great question posed by Remembrance Day, and – on a different level – the great question posed by the cross of Jesus Christ. In response to the sacrifice that has given me my freedom, how am I to live?
One of the sad ironies of the current state of Western civilization is that while on Remembrance Day we claim to appreciate the sacrifice of those who paid for our freedom, most of us have a very truncated view of what freedom really is. We seem to think that thousands of men died so that we could have freedom to do as we please, to gratify our desires without anyone making unreasonable demands on us or infringing on our personal space, to amass increasing material wealth, and to provide for our personal comfort and security. We salve our consciences by saying that of course we want to do all this while not harming anyone else.
Yes, I know, not everyone lives as I’ve just described. Some of us are a little more idealistic than that. But let’s be honest – Western civilization doesn’t look very noble these days. We are mostly focussed on trying to keep ourselves comfortable and reasonably prosperous. Not many people understand what true freedom is, where it comes from, and what our response should be to this amazing gift and the price that was paid for us.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m not against prosperity. When acquired without sacrificing integrity and justice, prosperity is a blessing from God, and it can be used to accomplish great good. But whenever we make pleasing ourselves the primary goal of our lives, it ends up robbing us of the freedom that Jesus desires to give us – the freedom to lay down our lives in service. Jesus said that no-one can serve two masters. If we truly value what he has done for us, only one response is possible – to surrender the rudder of our lives to Jesus, and let Him and His Kingdom become the goal of our living.
I love the words of this song by Brenton Brown and Tom Slater
Let My Life Be Like a Love Song
Lord, the love you give
You give so generously
You were my sacrifice
You gave your life for me
So let my life be like a love song
Let my life be like a love song
Let my life be like a love song
To your heart
(Tom Slater and Brenton Brown, © 2001 Vineyard Songs UK/Eire)
That’s the kind of response that Jesus’ sacrifice is calling forth from my heart. I want to live a life that is poured out in service, motivated by gratitude to Jesus for His amazing sacrifice for me. I know that I am weak, and can only sustain such a life by His help, but with the Holy Spirit’s enabling power, that’s how I am determined to live my life. How about you?
What, me worry?
What, me worry?
When I was a boy, this slogan was made famous by the fictional character Alfred E. Neuman, who graced the cover of Mad Magazine.
Many years later, Hilary Clinton used the now-famous slogan to caricature President George W. Bush’s approach to economic policy, clearly implying that disaster was looming and Bush was ignoring it.
Whatever you think of Clinton, Bush, Obama and US politics, the slogan suggests an unthinking, uncaring approach to life. What, me worry? What could possibly go wrong?
Although I found Neuman’s carefree approach to life appealing, as a young man I was never much good at the “not worrying” thing. Looking back, I realize that much of my thought life in those days was negative. I worried about many things. In my case, it wasn’t so much that I worried about things that would happen to me. I worried about bigger things. Before I had children, I worried about the state of the world, poverty, environmental problems, war, peace and so forth. Once I had children, I began worrying about their lives. I wanted to be a good Dad and felt responsible for how their lives would be affected by powers that I had no control over – sickness, war, economic problems and so forth.
Some people will tell you that you can conquer worry by making a decision not to worry. I never found that worked very well, because for me, worry was linked to my over-developed sense of responsibility. I felt responsible for everything. For this reason, I was also constantly plagued by feelings of guilt and failure. Slogans like “What, me worry?” or “Don’t worry, be happy” might have been appealing, but they weren’t how I lived my life. I was much too responsible for that. Far better – so I thought – to go on living under my cloud of worry, doubt and fear than to be an irresponsible fool.
As you can imagine, I became very difficult to live with (just ask my wife). Not only that, all this worry, guilt, doubt and fear wasn’t doing much for my ability to actually do something constructive about the things that I worried about.
Of course, I would have denied most of this if you had asked me. I was addicted to worry, and that’s what addicts do – they deny their addiction. It’s part of the Devil’s deception – although I didn’t see that the time, because I didn’t really believe in the Devil – or in my own need for help, either. I came from a line of strong-willed, capable, opinionated Dutchmen. Others might have problems, but not us. Others might need help, but not us.
Whenever I met people who had a simple faith in Jesus and were full of the Holy Spirit, I recognized that they had a joy and peace that I craved. I wanted the joy and peace, but mocked and caricatured the simplicity of their faith. Yet the mocking voice wasn’t the only one inside my head. There was another voice too – a voice that told me, with increasing insistence, that what they had was exactly what I needed.
Eventually I met someone whom I would allow to help me, and under his influence, I surrendered control of my life to Jesus. I didn’t understand all that was happening at the time, but I knew this was something I had to do. It was at that moment that the worry and fear, anxiety and guilt began to lose control over my life. A few months later when I was filled with the Holy Spirit, I took another big step forward into freedom. Some time later, I was baptized in water. This was the death blow to my old identity as a worrier. I now understood that I was a new person with a new identity, and that the old Peter had been put to death and buried.
Still, it sometimes seemed that he wouldn’t stay buried. I wish I could say that the change was immediate, but that wouldn’t be truthful – and maybe it wouldn’t be all that helpful either, because I’ve found that many people are just like me. At times things seemed to be getting worse before they got better. Looking back, I now see that in reality the Holy Spirit was showing me things that had always been there, but which I previously had been unable to see, admit or face. I was like a new recruit who has left civilian life behind and joined the army. From the time he puts his uniform on, he is a soldier, but he still has to learn to think like one. In the same way, as a former addict to worry, I had to train my mind to think in new ways, and this was not an instant process. Learning to think like a believer takes time. Surrendering to Jesus, and allowing His Spirit to rule and guide my life, were the keys to my freedom.
Today, many years later, I can truthfully say that worry no longer has any control over me. Does that mean I never worry? No, that would not be honest. All of us are tempted at times, and one of the main ways we get tempted is by negative thoughts. So, at times I am tempted to worry about various issues, and occasionally I don’t recognize the temptation right away, so I have to battle with worry for a while. But I seldom spent much time worrying, because I have learned that it is unproductive and unnecessary. As soon as I realize what is happening, I know what to do. When I recognize what voice I’ve been listening to, I can change channels, and listen to the voice of God instead. I can do this because I now have a new identity. My identity is no longer that of an insecure, anxious worrier. My identity is that of a warrior – a conqueror, a son of God who is destined to live and reign with Jesus.
But what about that overdeveloped sense of responsibility? What about all the things that I once felt responsible for? Well, one of the amazing freedoms that has come from walking with Jesus has been the ability to distinguish between things that I am truly responsible for, and things that I am not responsible for. I now know that I do not have to fix the universe. Jesus has already looked after that. He has paid the necessary price for all things to be restored. I do have people and situations that God has assigned to me, but I don’t have to handle them on my own. In every situation that I am truly responsible for, I also have authority from Jesus to do whatever He directs me to do.
This is so wonderfully freeing. There are many things that I can’t control, but every time I am tempted to be anxious, I only need to remind myself that I have a good and trustworthy Lord, and the future is in His hands.
I am a child of God. If you have put your hope in Jesus, so are you. Jesus and the Father aren’t sitting in heaven worrying about how they are going to manage things. Victory over the darkness has already been won. Even though the battle is still ongoing, the outcome is certain. Everyone who trusts in Jesus gets to share in that victory.
What, me worry? No way. I’m not playing that game any more. I have better things to do. I get to be like Jesus, share in His life and His victory, and invite others – like you – to walk in His freedom. Even after many years, I am still learning to walk in this new way, but I have found that it’s way more fun than worry, and way more productive too. Wanna come along? You’ll never regret it.
Of whom the world is not worthy
Asia Bibi is a forty year old mother of two. She has been in prison in Pakistan since 2009. Her only crime was telling her coworkers about Jesus. For this she was charged with blasphemy and sentenced to death. Although she remains alive up til now, one of her jailers recently tried to strangle her, and an Islamic cleric has offered a reward of $8000 to anyone who kills her. Her husband and two daughters miss her terribly. She is allowed to see them once per week for an hour. In a recent interview, Asia Bibi stated that she spends her time fasting and praying and has forgiven her accusers.
In March 2011, Shahbaz Bhatti, Pakistan’s Minister of Minorities and the only Christian in the Pakistani cabinet, was assassinated. Prior to his assassination, he had been working for a softening of Pakistan’s blasphemy laws, which mandate the death penalty for anyone who insults Islam. The Taliban claimed responsibility for his death, stating that it was his punishment for blasphemy.
Youcef Nadarkhani is a thirty four year old father of two. He is the leader of a network of house churches in Iran. He was imprisoned in 2006, released for a time because of international pressure, and then imprisoned again in 2009. Raised a Muslim, originally he was charged with apostasy for renouncing Islam. As Iran’s constitution officially guarantees freedom of religion, and does not support a sentence of death for conversion, the charges against him were later changed to rape and extortion – allegations that both he and his church members strenuously deny.
On several occasions Pastor Nadarkhani has been offered release if he will recant his conversion to Christianity, or declare that Muhammad was a prophet sent by God. He has consistently refused to make any such confession. Reportedly, Iranian government officials, who want Iran to be a monolithic Islamic republic, are quite concerned about the spread of Christianity in their country through the house church movement.
Kim Sung Min, a former propaganda officer for the North Korean Army, is now fighting for the freedom and faith of his home country. According to the Voice of the Martyrs, “once a diehard socialist, Mr. Kim became disillusioned when he saw the lack of freedom and opportunity in North Korea while serving in the military. After defecting, being arrested and escaping again, Mr. Kim began spreading a new message of hope and liberty”. He is now part of a team that broadcasts messages of freedom in Christ into North Korea.
Recently, Al-Shabaab, an Islamic terrorist group based in Somalia, sent a letter to Christian missionary groups operating out of Kenya that were working among Somali refugees. The letter warned missionaries to stop infecting Somalis with what it termed “the cancer of Christianity” and threatened to attack and kill them.
These are just a few of thousands of cases of Christians who have been imprisoned or otherwise persecuted for their faith. While some of this persecution is at the hands of radical Hindus in India, or Communist governments in North Korea, Vietnam and China, by far the majority of cases of persecution are at the hands of Islamic governments or mobs. But all persecution, whether at the hands of radical Hindus, Communists, or Islamists, can be taken as a sign that the oppressors fear the spread of the gospel because it represents a power that they cannot control.
Satan is the source of the rage that fuels these attacks. He hates the spread of the gospel in totalitarian regimes because it is a sign of his impending doom. He knows that the Lord will not return until the gospel of the Kingdom has been proclaimed to every people group on earth, and the Bride of Christ is prepared for her husband.
In 2003, two Chinese house church leaders were asked what the church would be like without persecution. They responded that it wouldn’t grow. They said they saw persecution as a gift from God to the church, to bring about the purification of our faith. So, ironically, the very persecution that Satan incites in his rage and fury is turned by God into an instrument to bring Jesus’ bride to glory. This has been happening for a long time. During the days of the Roman Empire (AD 197), Tertullian famously wrote in his work Apologeticus “the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church”. But even though these periodic storms of hostility against believers are nothing new, we can expect them to become more frequent and more intense as Jesus’ return draws near.
This is not the kind of talk that tends to make Western Christians comfortable. We like our freedom, our prosperity, and the relative peace and safety of Western societies. While it is undoubtedly true that freedom, prosperity and peace are great blessings, they can also tend to make us forget our dependency on God.
There is a wonderful chapter in the letter to the Hebrews that recounts stories of some of the martyrs and heroes of faith among the people of Israel. Towards the end of the chapter, the author describes these heroes as people of whom the world was not worthy. I feel the same way when I read stories about believers who are suffering torture, imprisonment and separation from their families for the sake of the gospel. What especially moves me is the testimony of the love that Jesus frequently deposits in the hearts of these suffering ones towards their captors. It makes me want to pray for them. And when I pray, although I do ask God for their deliverance, I ask Him even more passionately to grant them a revelation of His glorious presence with them in their suffering. We are told in the book of Daniel that when the three young men were in the fiery furnace in ancient Babylon, the king saw a fourth man with them. I believe the fourth man was Jesus who had revealed himself at their time of need. We are told in the book of Acts that when Stephen was being stoned, he looked up and saw Jesus standing at the right hand of God, ready to receive him. My prayer is that those who suffer for their faith in our times will have a similar experience, and that if they have to die, their blood will be the seed of the church as Tertullian prophesied long ago.
We are sometimes tempted to feel helpless, hopeless and fearful when we hear stories of persecution. The best antidote for such gloomy feelings is prayer. All of us who believe in Jesus can pray for our brothers and sisters in prison. We can also write simple letters of encouragement to them. Such letters and prayers may seem like weak tools, but that is because we do not think the way God thinks. Words of encouragement are powerful. Prayers are even more powerful. They have power not only to bless others but also to change us. If you want to know more about what you can do to stand with persecuted believers world-wide, the following links would be a great place to start. God bless you.
Voice of the Martyrs Canada
Open Doors Canada
International Christian Concern
23. January 2012 by Wisdom Hunter
Categories: Eschatology, Evangelism, Faith and Justice, Faith and Suffering, Social Commentary, Transformation | Tags: eschatology, hope, suffering, transformation | 2 comments