We Proclaim Him

My readings this morning included Colossians 1:13 – 29. Not only do I never tire of the beauty of Christ Jesus in this passage, but the radiance of His beauty increases as the years of my pilgrimage increase. If we do not behold the glory of Christ today, what shall we do tomorrow?

Colossians 1:28 (NASB) particularly captured my heart this morning:

“We proclaim Him

            admonishing [warning] every man

            teaching every man in all wisdom

                        so that we may present every man

                                    complete [perfect, mature] in Christ.”

We proclaim Christ so that we may present those to whom we minister mature in Christ. Who are we presenting every man to? To Christ. Those who proclaim Christ are charged with presenting others to Christ. What does our presentation look like?

We are called to present others not as babes, not as children, but as mature. Mature in what? Mature in whom? Not in the ways of this world, not in the ways of Christless Christianity, but mature in Christ. Not mature in us, not mature in Paul, or Peter, or John – but mature in Christ. Not mature in a pet doctrine, not mature in what we style “doctrinal distinctives”, but mature in Christ. Not mature in our denominations, nor in our non-denominations, but mature in Christ.

What a tragedy it will be to present others to Christ who are in an image other than the image of Jesus Christ.

We are called to proclaim, admonish [warn], teach, and present.

The Gospel, the Good News, is not something to be read in a monotone, it is not something to be communicated matter-of-factly, it is to be proclaimed, announced – just as a sailor on a ship would announce above the roar of the storm to a man in the water, “I’m throwing you a life preserver! Grab it! Hang on to it! I’m throwing you salvation from death! We’ll pull you in!”

When people have good news they tell it like it is good news. Imagine how the news would spread if a cure, and a vaccine, for Covid-19 were to be found – how long would it take for that news to spread? And how would it spread? Would it spread as if we were talking about the weather on a mild day? Would it spread as if we were talking about our daily agendas and things to do? We are called to proclaim!

We are also called to admonish, to warn. In our day of severe-weather alerts, would not the failure of the National Weather Service to warn a region of tornados be considered akin to criminal? Would not the National Weather Service be called to account? How much more will not our Lord hold His servants and His people accountable for not warning their families, their friends, their coworkers, their neighbors of God’s judgement on sin and death and rebellion? 

There are tornados on the ground everywhere around us, sweeping up men, women, and children into sin and death – hurling them into an eternal darkness – and yet God’s people stand mute. Doctors, nurses, hospital staffs, first responders, place themselves in danger in seeking to save lives during the present pandemic…and yet God’s people refuse to proclaim Christ and warn others of the tornadoes of sin and death on the ground because we seek protection for ourselves. Perhaps the doctors and nurses of our time will judge us on that Day. (2 Cor. 5:9 – 10).

We are not called to entertain – we are called to proclaim and warn.

But, how can we warn others if we, the church, will not receive warning ourselves? How can we warn others with credibility if we live like the world, as the world, embracing the temporal and rejecting the eternal? How can we expect others to submit to God’s Word of correction and call to repentance if we reject His correction and call to obedience? We do not want our pastors and elders and teachers to call us to account before the Word of God. We reject the idea of submitting to one another as members of the Body of Christ. Let us not forget that judgment begins at the House of God. Let us not live like fools, having a picnic on the lawn while a tornado descends upon us.

We are called to proclaim, and admonish, and teach; but not just teach, but to teach in all wisdom. What is wisdom? The answer is in Colossians 2:2 – 3 in which we see that God’s mystery is Christ and that in Christ “are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.” As Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 1:30, “But by His doing you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, and righteousness and sanctification, and redemption…”

To teach in all wisdom is to teach in Christ, to teach Christ, to teach unto Christ – to be bathed in Christ and to bathe others in Christ.

We are to proclaim, to admonish, to teach, and to present. Our goal is to present every man, every person, complete in Christ. If we don’t know where we are going we will get there. If we don’t have a target we will hit what we are aiming at.

Absurd? Of course it is. Yet, how many pastors and church leaders, how many congregational councils – have no idea where they are going? They have no goal but to meet the budget. They have no desire but to maintain buildings and programs. The idea of equipping the saints for the work of ministry (Ephesians 4:12) and of a fully-functioning body of believers growing up into Christ, obedient to Christ, is a concept not only alien, but often one that is opposed when presented. Whether people are growing in Christ individually and collectively is irrelevant as long as pews are filled and checks are written and no one is required take up the Cross and follow Jesus.

Note the emphasis on every man, or better – every person. We are to admonish every person, we are to teach every person, we are to present every person. Are we shepherding every person in our congregations? Are we proclaiming the Gospel to every person in our communities?

How are we measuring up to Colossians 1:28? How am I measuring up? How are you measuring up? How are our congregations and other associations measuring up?

There are tornadoes on the ground.

Let us not live foolishly – we will all stand before the judgment seat of Christ.

Who will you and your church present to Christ, and how will you present them?

Lord of the Cloud and Fire

My readings this morning included Ezekiel chapters 1 and 2; Ezekiel’s vision of the glory of Yahweh with living beings with wings and multiple faces, wheels within wheels, fire, lightning, an expanse of crystal, a heavenly voice, a throne with a Person on the throne, a rainbow – no wonder Ezekiel writes, “I fell on my face!”

I had great pleasure in this reading as I relaxed and received our Father’s grace through Ezekiel’s vision.

For the past couple of weeks I’ve been revisiting Dante’s Paradise, with the help of a dear friend as we both work through Hans Boersma’s chapter on Dante (Dante’s Transhumanizing Journey) in his Seeing God, The Beatific Vision in Christian Tradition, (Eerdmans, 2018).

On page 244 Boersma writes, “Dante remembers his vision of the cross; it is just that he cannot find the words properly to give expression to his memory. Similarly, Dante explains that his sight of Beatrice’s smile in the Primum Mobile has left an impression on him that endures, even though he cannot express it in words…” (Italics mine).

There are times when words indeed fail us, and I think in those times that it is better to ponder the vision, the image, the memory, than to risk desecration by reducing what we have seen and experienced to words which fail to transmit the grace and glory of the experience. I need not feel pressure to reduce Ezekiel’s vision to an explanation or a schematic, and I need not, indeed I should not, deconstruct what is holy…which is certainly to profane it.

On page 245 Boersma observes, “It is precisely when the light overcomes the power of his [Dante’s] sight that he is “transhumanized” [into the Divine life; Italian – trasumanar]…these encounters with the light strengthen his vision…” I am reminded of 2 Corinthians 3:17 – 18 and 1 John 3:1 – 3.

“Whether we use the discourse of seeing or of hearing, God must supernaturally and graciously transform us” (page 248). Yes indeed.

After my Scripture readings this morning, and then after my readings in Ephraim Syrus (a Church Father), I turned to The Valley of Vision with the intention of praying a particular prayer. However, when I opened the book I saw another prayer which I had not prayed for quite some time, and as soon as I saw the title I knew that turning to the page was no accident – for it was along the very lines of my reading in Ezekiel:

Lord of the Cloud and Fire

Lord of the cloud and fire I am a stranger, with a stranger’s indifference;

My hands hold a pilgrim’s staff,

My march is Zionward,

My eyes are toward the coming of the Lord,

My heart is in thy hands without reserve.

Thou hast created it,

redeemed it,

renewed it,

captured it,

conquered it.

Keep from it every opposing foe,

crush in it every rebel lust,

mortify every treacherous passion,

annihilate every earthborn desire.

All faculties of my being vibrate to thy touch;

I love thee with soul, mind, body, strength,

might, spirit, affection, will,

desire, intellect, understanding.

Thou art the very perfection of all perfections;

All intellect is derived from thee;

My scanty rivulets flow from thy unfathomable fountain.

Compared with thee the sun is darkness,

all beauty deformity,

all wisdom folly,

the best goodness faulty.

Thou art worthy of an adoration greater than

my dull heart can yield;

Invigorate my love that it may rise worthily to thee,

tightly entwine itself round thee,

be allured by thee.

Then shall my walk be endless praise.

    The Valley of Vision, Arthur Bennett, editor, The Banner of Truth Trust, pp. 198 -199.

Pondering Psalms This Morning

My readings this morning included Psalm 16 and Psalm 46.

"You will make known to me the path of life; in Your presence is fullness of joy; in Your right hand are pleasures forever." Psalm 16:11.

Is not Jesus the Path of Life? Do we not find fullness of joy in Jesus? Is not Jesus at the right hand of the Father, and in Christ do we not find overwhelming pleasures?

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, thought the earth should change..." Psalm 46:1 - 2a.

The children of God need not fear in the present distress; no matter how much change is happening around us.

"There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy dwelling places of the Most High. God is in the midst of her, she will not be moved." Psalm 46:4 - 5a.

Surely God's Temple, His People, are the dwelling places of God (Ephesians 2:19 - 22).

Yes, there is a river, a deep and abiding River (John 7:37 - 39; Revelation 22:1 - 5). We dwell in God in Christ and God dwells in us in Christ. Is this River flowing out from us to the nations? Or are the fountains of the Holy Spirit stopped up within by disobedience, the cares of this world, selfishness, and sin?

John 4:13 - 14. Aren't we tired of constantly going to the well of self, to the well of this world, to the well of self-righteousness, to the well of good works to find satisfaction? Isn't it time that we drank from the Well, the Fountain of Life - a Source from which, as we drink, we will never thirst again? When we drink from our Lord Jesus we are supremely satisfied and our source of life changes - from this world and self to Christ and Christ alone.

What a shame that there are those who try to make us feel guilty if we are not thirsty, if we are not down on ourselves, if we are not preaching condemnation - when Christ calls us to find contentment and satisfaction and peace and rest in Him. Christ is our Sabbath, our Fullness, our Fountain.

Let the River of Life flow from us, the Temple of the Living God, to the nations, to our communities, to our families - into a world engulfed in fear and uncertainty.

Why Easter?

Something to ponder and work through:

John 12:23 - 24.

Then:

Perichoresis: Definition: John chapters 13 - 17.

Through the Incarnation, the Cross, and the Resurrection we are called into the koinonia of the Trinity.

Romans 8:29; Hebrews 2:9 - 18.

HE IS RISEN!

The Piercing Sword

By: Robert L. Withers (by Christ’s grace)

“And Simeon blessed them and said to Mary His mother, “Behold, this Child is appointed for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and for a sign to be opposed— and a sword will pierce even your own soul—to the end that thoughts from many hearts may be revealed.” (Luke 2:34 - 35).

A sword into my soul?

What might this mean?

The fall and rise of many?

How might this come?

A sign to be opposed?

My baby boy, oh why?

Marvelous have these months been,

These strange and wondering months.

Gabriel, who had appeared to Daniel,

Invading the quiet of my day,

“Hail richly blessed! The Lord is with you.”

He tells me not to fear, but now this from Simeon.

My dear husband Joseph,

O how he was perplexed,

What a quandary he was in.

I trusted him.

God trusted him.

He trusted God, he trusted me.

My cousin Elizabeth exclaiming,

“Blessed are you among women,

And blessed is the fruit of your womb!”

I had not written her. No one had told her.

Yet she knew, yet she proclaimed.

My soul and heart were large then, they were whole.

But now, “A sword will pierce my soul.”

How? Why? When?

The shepherds, humble and kind and gentle.

Beholding a Lamb like no other.

Those strange and mysterious and generous men from the East.

They bowed before my son.

Then the warning to my husband,

“Flee, flee right now. Go to Egypt, rush,

Take the child and his mother, Herod comes to destroy him.”

Destroy my child? Moses was saved from mass slaughter,

But why single out my baby boy?

Was this what Simeon meant, that my soul would be pierced?

That time when we could not find him.

I thought, “Is this what Simeon means?”

Have we lost my boy, my Jesus?

How could we have lost sight of him?

We found him in the Temple, speaking with the rabbis and priests.

So strange, so very strange - I thought my heart would break in the search.

Then the tranquil years, peace in our town and land.

How I delighted in seeing him grow in favor with God and others.

What a joy to have him around, to see him with Joseph,

To see him with all in our town.

So thoughtful, so considerate. And O how he loved me,

How so very good and kind he was to me.

Then that day came, when he said he was going

To see that strange man John the Baptizer,

To the Jordan he was going. It was not like him

To chase after the novel, to run after the popular.

Yet I knew in his eyes and his voice that he was not running,

He was not hastening, there was something else within him.

As I watched him walk down the dusty road away from our home

I was reminded of two things in my heart, in the recesses of my mind.

At first I could not clearly envision them, it was as if the skies

Were changing from bright and blue to clouds bearing a storm.

Then I knew, coming up from the depths of my soul,

Tremors were shaking me, foreboding was enveloping me.

There was I again in the Temple with Joseph and Jesus.

Jesus was saying, “Do you not know that I must be about

My Father’s business?

Then in the Temple again, bringing our baby to dedicate,

“And a sword will pierce even your own soul.”

Is God taking my son whom we dedicated?

Could this be it? The piercing? The work of the sword?

That which was given to me I gave back in dedication.

Now I watch my boy, for my “boy” he shall always be,

Walk away to seek that strange man John,

Elizabeth’s child now grown, our sons’ paths now meet.

What strange thing is this? O my soul! O my soul!

That Sabbath back in Nazareth, when my Son stood before

The congregation, “The Spirit of the LORD is upon me.”

How angry they became, they wanted to kill my boy,

How frightened I was, and yet, and yet, peaceful at the same time.

I saw that He was at peace, I saw Him unafraid.

I recalled Gabriel’s words, “Fear not...Mary.”

How many times during the next few years

Did my heart and soul almost break?

I knew many meant Him harm, and yet when I saw

His love and compassion for others, His kindness,

His tears, His healing, His sorrow for others,

Surely, I thought, God will preserve Him.

And through all these years, from boyhood until now,

O how He has always loved and cared for me.

Even when I have not understood at times His words and ways,

He has been tender to me, caring for me, gentle with me.

He is now a Man, O but what a Man.

Yes, a Man, but also my son, my boy.

Terror! Terror! Betrayed by Judas.

His flesh lacerated! His brow bleeding from a crown of thorns.

Mockery! Drenched with spit! Hatred in the air!

Murder in their hearts! The crowd, the mob!

What of the palms? What of the hosannas?

No! No! I cannot bear to hear it! “Crucify Him!” they are shouting.

I follow with my friends, with Mary Magdalene and others.

They hold my hand and lead me, an arm around my waist

Supports me, I cannot see through my tears,

I cannot speak through my sobs.

My body is convulsed with sorrow.

I am in shock, I tremble, I tremble, one foot in front of the other.

O such cruelty inflicted on the One who loved as no other.

The hammer striking the nails - O that sound!

The jolt of the cross striking the earth.

My boy’s body shaken. He looks at me, He looks at John;

“Woman, behold your son! Behold, your mother!”

Darkness descends, it is night as the light of my life is snuffed out.

Darkness yes, but I am His mother. I hear Him.

My heart sees Him. He is there, night or no night.

He is my boy. But what is happening? Terror!

I sense terror. I sense something not of this world transpiring.

O my boy, my son - I am here my son. I love you my son!

Take me! Let Him go - take me...O please take me, take me, take me.

Mary Magdalene holds me on one side, John holds me on the other.

They wash me with their tears. We hold each other.

A cry, a piercing cry! “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

And I cry within, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken us?”

And as the light chases the darkness my beloved boy cries again,

“It is finished. Father, into Your hands I commit my spirit.”

Gabriel, you told me not to fear, that God was with me.

Elizabeth, you told me that I was blessed among women.

Shepherds, you told me that my boy meant great joy for all people.

Strange men from the East, you called my boy a king and worshipped Him.

Anna, you gave thanks for my Son in the Temple.

Simeon, Simeon, where are you now?

What did you say Simeon? What did you say to me?

That my soul would be pierced with a sword?

O Simeon, my soul is not pierced,

How could you be so wrong, why not tell me all Simeon?

My soul is not pierced, O no Simeon, it is not pierced,

My heart, my soul, my life...I am broken, shattered.

O MY BOY! MY SON! MY JESUS!

Rotting on the Ocean

“You know, we always cling to the hope something is going to happen. They're not going to let us rot on the ocean. I mean, something had to happen to us.” Gerda Blachmann Wilchfort – passenger on the St. Louis.

When fear overrides humanity (the better angles of our humanity), we ought to fear. That is when we become the animals who lose the gift of speech – to borrow from C.S. Lewis in The Magician’s Nephew.

“We will be your neighbor unless you are on cruise ship with a disease. We will be your neighbor unless you are on a cruise ship fleeing Nazi Germany.”

At least we are consistent.

The difference between the USA today and the USA preceding and during the Holocaust, is that we probably can’t measure how many lives were lost because we refused to allow Jewish refugees into our “welcoming” land. But we will probably be able to measure how many lives were lost because we shut our ports to those in need during the current crisis.

Perhaps those who survive the cruise ship tragedy will take another look at their attitudes toward refugees fleeing violence in countries south of our borders.

You can read about Gerda at this link:

https://encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/en/article/voyage-of-the-st-louis