NEVER FORSAKEN

The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Deuteronomy 31:8

 

How many times have you quoted Jesus’ departing words to his disciples, those words that were intended to strengthen and comfort them (and us): “Surely, I am with you always, to the very end of the age” (Matthew 28:20). When we’re children, we remind ourselves of this word so that we’re not afraid – Jesus is with me. And when we’re navigating the rough patches of adulthood, those words still keep us going. Jesus is with me.
But, truth be told, the tangible presence of our Lord is sometimes missing during the unexplained. We may not see him when we’re suffering injustice. When the pain pushes us to the point of despair, we may look around for Jesus and wonder about that promise.
I was thinking about this word of truth from Matthew, and it must be true because Jesus said it, and wondering how it could occasionally seem so baffling. There are times when we just don’t see Jesus. So how can he always be with us—even until the end?
And then I remembered something we often proclaim—we are the hands and feet of Jesus, and he lives in us. With the Holy Spirit and Jesus living in us we are to be the fulfillment of that promise to one another and to a very lonely world. We are to comfort, love, encourage, uphold, bless, heal, and be everything God would minister through us for the occasion.
In my international work, we send teams around the world, but it’s always to places where we have established “feet on the ground,” those people who represent us and speak and act for us. Just like that, we are God’s feet on the ground acting and moving and speaking for him. We are God’s reminders that he’s always with his children.
Yes, we are all to live by faith, and we realize his presence never leaves us, and he won’t forsake us. We practice abiding, living, and having our being in him. And we know that nothing separates us from his love (Romans 8:35-39). But if we are to allow him to continue to grow in us, we must obey him in making ourselves available channels through which his Spirit can flow and bless and refresh. And we are to be humble and receptive to the other members of Christ’s Body who are sent to walk with us.
Do you know someone who needs to see Jesus just now? Someone who would love to have him show up? Be there—for him and for them.
Sweet Father, thank you that all your promises are yes and amen. Help us to see our part in their fulfillment. We give you all glory. In Jesus’ name. AMEN.

GIFTS

…Unto one he gave five…, to another two, to another one; to each according to his several ability…

 

One day a rather humorless CEO called in his three top managers to discuss his upcoming trip.  As they sat around the massive mahogany table sipping French pressed coffee, the CEO began barking his instructions.  To the first man, he said, “I’m having our financial officer direct deposit $5,500,000* into your account.”  To the second woman, he said, “The financial officer is depositing $4,500,000* into your account.”  And to the last person, he said, “You will be receiving $1,150,000*.”  He continued, “I’ll be out of the country for quite a while, and you are to invest these funds. When I return, I expect all the funds with a profit.  Is that clear?”

Each of the managers contemplated how best to follow their CEO’s directive.  The first two were more comfortable than the last.  Finally, the day of reckoning came.  The boss came home and called the managers back to his office.  Again, they were all seated around the mahogany table drinking their specialty coffee when the CEO began, “Now tell me what you did with my money.”  The first manager said, “I put it all in equities and made five times as much.”  “Great work,” the boss replied.  The second manager replied, “I invested your funds in bonds, and I realized twice as much as you gave me.”  “Good thinking,” said the CEO.  The third nervous manager said, “I knew you were a hard-nosed financier, so I took the money and locked it up in my desk.”  At that, the boss was infuriated.  “You knew that I’m a shrewd investor and yet you took the money entrusted to you and locked it in your drawer?  For all this time?  Go get that money and divide it between your two co-workers.  YOU’RE FIRED.”

Of course, this is a contemporary re-telling of Jesus’ Parable of the Talents from Matthew 25.  It is not instruction for how to handle money but rather how to handle the gifts that each of us is given.  (For lists of those gifts, see Romans 12:3-9, Ephesians 4:2-12, I Corinthians 12:1-31, I Peter 4:10, 11.)  The gifts are given to us to bless and strengthen the Church, those brothers and sisters we have in the Lord.  And while we’re at it, they can be used to attract what one writer calls pre-Christians.  In false modesty, don’t downplay and underestimate what God has placed within you.  Your gift may be something that not everyone will see or notice or it may be something that must be done with an audience.  Whatever it is, you are unequivocally told to use it.  You may never know how significantly your talent touches another life, but obedience is the mandate.  If you choose not to exercise, or to hide, your gift, the whole Church (not the institution, but the Body) will suffer.

Take time this week to prayerfully determine what special gift God has placed in you.  Take it out of the drawer and dust it off.  Then begin to use it for God’s glory, the blessing of his people, and your gratification.  Not my words—God’s.

 

Father, in all honesty, you don’t need us, but you’ve chosen to include us in your great Church.  Embolden us to present to you those gifts you’ve given us to use as you will.  In Jesus’ name.  AMEN.

 

 

*These funds are conversions based on the average U.S. manager’s annual salary in multiples of 1, 2, and 5.

HELPERS

So then, let us aim for harmony in the church and try to build each other up.  Romans 14:19 NLT

“I can do it,” my two-and-a-half-year-old daughter told her grandmother. Tish was sitting on Momo’s kitchen counter stirring her first cake batter, firmly convinced she had all the expertise necessary to produce a fine cake.  At two-and-a-half.  That’s understandable for a small child, but have you ever seen an adult who could do it all and never needed help?  Or have you been that person who, as the old saying goes, is independent as a hog on ice?

Do you know people you’ve offered to help–something as simple as giving a ride, setting a table, assisting with a task–who can’t seem to acknowledge the smallest need?  We build walls around ourselves so that we maintain an air of invincibility and inaccessibility.  As long as we’re self- sufficient, no one can require anything of us.  Our pride is nurtured when we delude ourselves into thinking we don’t need anyone.  And we can pretty easily shut everyone out.

But isn’t it interesting that the King of Kings was supported by women (Luke 8:1-3); that someone else was his banker (John 12:6); that he allowed Mary to wash his feet (Luke 7:38); that he asked his friends to pray with him (Matthew 26:49); and that Simon carried his cross?  The One who created all things humbled himself to permit others to help him.  He provided the space for intimacy that emerges when we open ourselves to being served.   His greatness disallowed pride but opened instead the door to love.

We sometimes erect walls to avoid pain but in so doing, we inflict pain.  Jesus “knew human nature” thoroughly (John 2:2), and still, he chose Judas.  And Peter.  And Thomas.  He lowered his own drawbridge to welcome flawed human beings in familiarity and mutual exchange.  Jesus’ sacrifice came long before his execution at the cross:  He gave himself—his time, his thoughts, his privacy, his preferences, everything—from the very beginning.  And from his loving sacrifices emerged the Church.

Father, we need your help in pulling down the barriers we’ve erected for selfish reasons.  Cast out our fear of being taken advantage of, and help us to become vulnerable, trusting in your protection.  Cause your love to open our hearts so that we gladly receive as well as give.  Thank you.  In Jesus’ name.  AMEN.

THE CHURCH AND SOME SAINTS

 

So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God…  Ephesians 2:19

My doctor is retiring.  I saw him this week for the last time professionally, and it was a bittersweet time for me.  Dr. B saved my life.

Many years ago when I was teaching and working on a graduate degree, I had to leave school one day because of intense back ache.  Back pain was nothing new to me; I was born with a mild case of spina bifida, which tended to affect many of my activities and complicate ordinary illnesses.

My mother gathered my two children and me to stay with her and my dad until this latest episode passed.  I took the pills that were my standby, but the pain increased.  After a few weeks, I was pretty much bedfast.  And then came tingling in my legs with visual and hearing impairment.

My doctor decided to hospitalize me for tests.  Batteries were run, and I tried to describe my symptoms to a noted neurologist.  Later, he called my mom to see if I was mentally stable.  When nothing of significance showed up, I was released—with intense back pain, tingling, visual and hearing impairment, and headaches.

We were praying in earnest for healing and diagnosis of the malady that for me was much more than mental instability.  All along Pastor Schwanenberg and Gloria had been visiting and praying with me.  One day they that said Dr. B, a church member, was interested in my case and wondered if my family would like him to give another opinion.  Without hesitation, we accepted his offer.

I was hospitalized again, and more tests were run.  Between tests church friends were visiting and cheering me on.  My friend, Linda, brought me a book and was with me when I received a call from my insurance agent.  I was waiting to see if coverage extended to the multiple tests and hospital stay.  I thanked my agent for calling, but somehow, without my saying a word, Linda left knowing my congenital malformation had exempted the company from covering conditions related to the back.

The next day or so, Dr. B came in with a smile.  He said they’d determined the problem; it was pernicious anemia, so called because before it was learned that vitamin B-12 injections could treat the anemia, most people who developed the disease died from it.  He began frequent injections of B-12 and within a day I was walking, and my symptoms were decreasing.

When I was released from hospital care, Papa came to pick me up.  He entered my hospital room with a smile and an envelope.  He always loved to joke, and he kept me in suspense about the contents.  Finally, Papa told me that when Linda had left the hospital, she went straight to Pastor Schwanenberg telling him about my insurance dilemma and wondering what the church could do.  By the time I was ready for release, my dad had in hand an envelope from my church with a check to pay all the hospital expenses.

Within a few days I was back at home and then back to work.  I called Dr. B’s office to see about paying his bill, which I suspected would be quite large.  Instead, the bookkeeper told me that the doctor had written it off in its entirety.  I’m not sure they make doctors like Dr. B anymore, but I am grateful that God brought this one and all those saints into my life.

 

Loving Father, thank you for the Church, your Body, and all the saints who bless us in so many ways.  Help me to love in deed just as I’ve been loved.  In Jesus’ name.  AMEN.

SAM IN GOLI

…a little child shall lead them. Isaiah 11:6

I was assigned to serve in Uganda for about seven months. For years, Grandson Sam had accompanied me to work in a church community center, so it wasn’t unusual for him to accept my invitation to spend the summer in Goli. Sam was about to turn eighteen, and I’d gotten a placement for him in the village clinic with Sister Kim.

That summer Sam worked in the tiny lab peering at slides of native bacteria and local diseases, learning more than he would have from a text. He worked in the pharmacy dispensing drugs, and he accompanied doctors on their routes around the district and watched them perform surgeries. (He even picked up some of the local “bugs” on his visits.)

The business director of the diocese was a regular morning visitor in our little cinder block house and loved to share our hot tea and chapatti (local flat bread). When Rev. Martin discovered that Sam played an unusual instrument, a violin, he asked if he would play for Sunday service in the cathedral. Sam was thrilled and practiced a lovely Beethoven selection. He was already a local favorite, so when everyone learned that he would be playing a “western” instrument for church, there was great anticipation. That Sunday, the music stand was set up, Sam tuned his instrument, and began to play. Not a sound was heard other than the beautiful notes from Sam’s gifted fingers. And then the giggling began to ripple through the congregation. No one had ever heard such an instrument. Sam played on and on and finally ended to great applause and laughter.

Sam’s popularity grew, and he was often assaulted by the children who loved to pull him into their games. He hung out with the bishop’s children, and they all became fast friends. When he came down with malaria, despite taking his preventive meds and lathering himself with Deet, the whole diocesan compound was alarmed. Malaria was not something muzungus handled well. Sam was confined to his bed with fever, weakness, and all the dangerous symptoms brought about by the bite of an Anopheles mosquito. Nurses from the clinic came to treat him, and Sister Kim directed her cook to make special broths for Sam. Villagers made enquiries about him. But two of my Ugandan friends did even more. Evaline and Esther sat up all night praying for him. No fanfare. No big deal. They prayed until they sensed Sam would get better. No one was surprised when he made a full recovery.

The time passed too quickly as we worked throughout the warm days and read to each other late into the night. One day we sat together in our little cinder block house sharing a companionable meal in silence. The doors were left open to catch any passing breeze, and our dogs and an occasional goat wandered in and out. I had given up on teaching our sweet cook how to prepare some of our familiar dishes, so we learned to take advantage of the fresh fruits and vegetables growing all around us.

In the middle of this idyllic situation, Sam spoke up. “Grandma, these people have nothing.” I waited. “But they’re happy,” Sam added. I had to agree. Did Sam recognize that the faith they had was worth more than any material blessing we Westerners value so much? “I’m so happy,” Sam went on. “I’m glad I’ve learned this at my age.”

How soon that summer was gone, and Sam left, taking with him the treasures he had gathered in Goli.

Father, you told us a little child would lead us. Sam saw and lived with God’s joy evidenced through the lives and love of our Goli friends. May he never forget, and may we always cherish those eternal things that can never be taken away. In Jesus’ name. AMEN.

O LITTLE TOWN OF BETHLEHEM

But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times. Micah 5:2 (NIV)

Several years ago, I participated in a pilgrimage to Israel where I saw the major sites of Christendom and rubbed shoulders with Jews, Muslims, Druze, and Kurds. In this complex smidgeon of real estate about the size of Rhode Island, one can drive from one side of the country to the other in less time than it takes to get from San Antonio to Austin. And yet, so much of our faith was birthed in this tiny land.

At Bethlehem I waited inside the crumbling Byzantine Church of the Nativity with throngs of pilgrims to see the spot where Jesus was welcomed into the world by his mother Mary and Joseph and the shepherds. There was a large group of Japanese faithful who waited with us for a glimpse of the holy site. Down the narrow stairway amid flickering candlelight, I spoke with Romanian Christians who had come thousands of miles to sing hymns and worship the One who had been born to take away the sins of the world. There were Orthodox believers who gathered in another corner to venerate a beautiful icon representing Mary and the Christ Child.

We were a potpourri of wayfarers at the same sacred spot at a unique moment in time.  We looked and dressed differently from one another and were a polyglot of persons, but we were united in our longing to ponder and be present at the place of his incarnation. And outside, a few of us lingered to visit with the radiant little Muslim schoolgirls who had come to greet visitors and to practice their English. “What is your name?” they asked and giggled at our responses.

What will it be like on the day when “a great multitude that no one [can] count, from every nation, tribe, people and language” gather together for worship?

O holy Child of Bethlehem
Descend to us, we pray
Cast out our sin and enter in
Be born to us today
We hear the Christmas angels
The great glad tidings tell
O come to us, abide with us
Our Lord Emmanuel.

Father, at Advent our hearts wait in anticipation for the day you will bring your children together and when we all will be one in you. Let your love flow out of us to embrace those who do not yet know you, and may we gently invite them to join us in your Kingdom. In Jesus’ name. Emmanuel. AMEN.

THE GREATEST NAME

For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counseller, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace. Isaiah 9:6 (KJV)

Almost ten years ago my son and daughter-in-law walked into my house and said they had something to tell me. This wasn’t a casual visit, I could tell. I sat down on one of the sofas, and they sat across from me. They had come to tell me that my daughter had just been diagnosed with leiomyosarcoma, a rare form of cancer. Without pausing to think, words popped out of my mouth: “God isn’t surprised.”

And with that announcement our family launched the support mechanism that springs into place in crisis. Some began researching for best doctors and hospitals, others made provisions for her two little girls, and we all put together a prayer campaign that spread around the world.

I sat with family members for the twelve-hour surgery that was part of Tish’s treatment regimen. With us was a sweet rabbi who read to me a Psalm that was used every day at his synagogue to pray for Tish. Each of us passed the time in terse conversation and responding to calls and emails for updates. And then I received a beautiful message from a clergyman in Rwanda: “This cancer may have a name, but we know the GREATEST NAME.” He had joined us in invoking that powerful name above all names, foretold by Isaiah, asking for healing.

That was ten years ago. This week I will accompany my daughter to M. D. Anderson for her regular check up and to celebrate the prayers that were answered by the One whose birthday we celebrate during this season. The greatest name, Emmanuel, God with us.

Father, all praise and glory be to you for your wonderful gift of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. May this season of celebration be centered on Emmanuel who came to meet all our deepest needs. In his name. AMEN.