Dear friend in Christ,

Our 40 days of fasting and prayer to seek the Lord for 2015 has come to a close, and I am deeply grateful to you for joining with me on this journey.  I have been blessed and encouraged by the devotionals, and, as usual, fasting has helped me draw closer to God.  

How do I know when the Holy Spirit is active and present in my life?  What must I do to engage in the Spirit-filled life?  What sorts of criteria may I employ to recognize and discern the leading of the Spirit as I follow Jesus in faith?  Such questions are no less crucial for being so prevalent among earnest Christians who desire to please the Lord and experience His grace in power.

“Then the women said to Naomi, ‘Blessed be the LORD, who has not left you this day without a redeemer, and may his name be renowned in Israel!  He shall be to you a restorer of life and a nourisher of your old age, for your daughter-in-law who loves you, who is more to you than seven sons, has given birth to him.’” - Ruth 4:14-15

The apostle Paul famously engaged the citizens of Athens in his pursuit of proclaiming the Gospel throughout the Roman Empire. 

Acts 17 records:

So he reasoned in the synagogue with the Jews and the devout persons, and in the marketplace every day with those who happened to be there.  Some of the Epicurean and Stoic philosophers also conversed with him. And some said, “What does this babbler wish to say?” Others said, “He seems to be a preacher of foreign divinities”—because he was preaching Jesus and the resurrection.  - Acts 17:17, 18 (ESV)

"For God, who said, 'Let light shine out of darkness,' made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ.” - 2 Corinthians 4:6

As we fast, many of us are asking God to show Himself. We want God to reveal Himself to us and show us who He is. This is certainly not unique to human experience. If people are given the chance to ask God a question, many simply wonder, “Where are you?” We wonder, “If you’re present everywhere, if you love us and want a relationship with us, then why don’t we hear from you?” Fasting promises insight into God’s hiddenness. In many ways, we are like Moses in Exodus 34. Moses, wanting to know this God who has led the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt and is taking them to the Promised Land, asks God to show him His Glory.

Dear Friend in Christ,

I am wondering what sort of season this is for you. If it is one of prolonged hardship, I understand it can be especially challenging to hope in God’s goodness.

For this reason, I want to share with you about a very unique sort of healing offered to those who are struggling to persevere in times of trial.

Concerned for his weary congregation, the author of Hebrews writes:

“Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen your weak knees, and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint, but rather be healed” (Hebrews 12:12-13).

Although the apostle Paul did not write Hebrews, the theological viewpoints of the two authors are often remarkably similar. This theological consonance is seen especially in Hebrews 12 and Romans 8. The overall theme of both chapters is that of suffering. Specifically, both authors claim that, far from evidencing God's removal from and lack of concern for us, suffering is the very means by which we prove to be God's own sons and daughters:

"It is for discipline that you have to endure [suffering]. God is treating you as sons.” (Heb 12:7a)

Thus says the LORD of hosts: “‘Ask the priests about the law: ‘If someone carries holy meat in the fold of the garment and touches with his fold bread or stew or wine or oil or any kind of food, does it become holy?’”  The priests answered and said, “No.”  Then Haggai said, “If someone who is unclean by contact with a dead body touches any of these, does it become unclean?”  The priests answered and said, “It does become unclean.”  Then Haggai answered and said, “So it is with this people…” –Haggai 2:11-14a

And when Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down, for I must stay at your house today.”  So he hurried and came down and received him joyfully.  And when they saw it, they all grumbled, “He has gone in to be the guest of a man who is a sinner.”  And Zacchaeus stood and said to the Lord, “Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor.  And if I have defrauded anyone of anything, I restore it fourfold.” –Luke 19:5-8

“The point is this: whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully. Each one must give as he has decided in his heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work."  - 2 Corinthians 9:6-8, ESV

In 2 Corinthians the apostle Paul asks the Corinthian church to keep their pledge to financially help poor Christians in Jerusalem.  These and the following verses yield valuable insight into understanding money.  Few issues in our lives are more important for our godliness than handling money well.  Often our prayers and fasting can have little sway with God, in part, because we are not living in conformity with God’s principle of sowing and reaping.

“You’re all that, and a bag of chips!” Echoing from the halls of my childhood memories, I can still hear the preacher, in dramatic fashion, proclaiming this statement to the congregation. Like much of the Christianity practiced in our contemporary culture, the intended purpose of the phrase was to combat low self-confidence by infusing a sense of self-worth and value. On the one hand, there is absolutely nothing wrong with acknowledging the inherent worth and dignity that human beings possess as image-bearers of the one, true, and living God – such is an amazing truth! However, as Christians we understand that the central message of the Bible is predicated on another truth – a devastating one. The humanity that formerly held preeminent status in God’s “very good” creation has fallen. Sin and death now comprise the human condition. Simply put, we’re not “all that.” In commenting on the Fall’s effect and God’s judgment on human nature, Donald Macleod once stated, “The [human] race needs a redeemer, but cannot itself produce one.” In light of this dilemma, the person and work of Christ becomes not only all the more necessary but all the more glorious. This season of prayer and fasting is a demonstration that we understand our own fallenness, frailty, and finitude, and that Christ is our only hope. It is a demonstration of our desire to experience more of Him.

In a November 2014 op-ed titled “On Thanksgiving Day, Remember Fast Day,” Dean Grodzins, visiting scholar at the Massachusetts Historical Society and a research associate at Harvard Business School, traced the little-known history of Fast Day in the American historical memory. Grodzins writes:

“Around 1740 . . . the New England colonies (except for Rhode Island, which always went its own way) began observing regular annual fasts and thanksgivings, corresponding to the local agricultural year. Fast Day was held typically in April; farmers were in effect asking for God’s forgiveness and blessing before they planted. Thanksgiving was held in November, to show God gratitude for the harvest. Only at this time did Thanksgiving come to be associated with a feast.”

When was the last time you couldn’t fall asleep because your mind was racing, and you couldn’t slow down your thoughts? Or you woke up in the middle of the night, shaken out of sleep because of something which had not gone right that day or because of some worry for the upcoming day? I often wonder, when all I need is to slow down and rest, why am I awake with my mind running so fast?

When this happens, one trick my father taught me as a kid is to quote, in order, the Psalms (or, let’s be honest, maybe just remember a snippet from some of them) until you fall asleep. Granted, this is a lot easier to do if you grew up in a church tradition that sings the Psalms regularly.  Nonetheless, the point of this trick is rest comes from being in God’s presence through His word and prayer.

“The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” - Matthew 20:28.

This passage from the Gospel of Matthew has always struck me.  If Jesus came not to be served, then why do we call ourselves His servants?  He came to serve us!  This can be quite perplexing.  If Jesus didn’t come so we could serve Him, then why did He come?  If Christianity was like any other theism, serving (read: owing) would be the proper logical response.  But being the God of the Bible’s image bearers, humanity's existence is not merely one of subjection to a “higher power.”  Jesus came to show us what it actually means to be human.

“Be still, and know that I am God.

I will be exalted among the nations,

I will be exalted in the earth!” - Psalm 46:10

For quite some time, I wrongly believed this verse was a call to quiet my life and soul, to reject the world’s busyness, so that I may more fully know God. And, perhaps, there is a great deal of truth in such a premise, but as my seminary professor always liked to say, “right doctrine/belief, wrong text.” As I began to read the context around the verse, the entirety of Psalm 46, I noticed these poetic verses speak out of a troubled, perilous, and war-torn world, a tumultuous world created both by the evils of the earth and those of humanity. Verse 10, then, is not so much about quieting our inner-soul, as it is a call to place our confidence in the Lord amidst a dark and oftentimes terrifying world, to stop tarrying about like the rest of the fear-plagued world, and trust that all of history is moving toward God’s intended end, namely an entire created order singing His praise and honor (v. 10b).

“When one of those who reclined at table with him heard these things, he said to him, “Blessed is everyone who will eat bread in the kingdom of God!” But he said to him, “A man once gave a great banquet and invited many. And at the time for the banquet he sent his servant to say to those who had been invited, ‘Come, for everything is now ready.’ But they all alike began to make excuses. The first said to him, ‘I have bought a field, and I must go out and see it. Please have me excused.’ And another said, ‘I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to examine them. Please have me excused.’ And another said, ‘I have married a wife, and therefore I cannot come.’” – Luke 14:15-20, ESV

On a recent Sunday after church, when I picked up my two-year-old son from children’s ministry, I asked the volunteer how he’d behaved that day. To my surprise, she told me that he’d behaved well (he’s been going through a tantrum stage). She warned me that his pants were a little loose and had fallen down once or twice. Bored by our conversation, he wriggled out of my arms to return to play with the other children. As he ran away to play, I noticed his loose pants slide down to his ankles, revealing his chubby legs and diaper. Some of the kids pointed and laughed at his “nakedness.” Oblivious to their taunting, he continued to happily play with a toy train that was nearby.  As he shouted “choo choo!” to no one in particular, I thought to myself, my son is literally “naked and unashamed.” He had no idea that he was supposed to be embarrassed because he was exposed in public. Naked and unashamed. In our appearance-obsessed culture, we rarely use these two words to describe ourselves. We may use one or the other, but rarely both.

“Unless the Lord builds the house,

   those who build it labor in vain.

Unless the Lord watches over the city,

   the watchman stays awake in vain.

It is in vain that you rise up early

   and go late to rest,

eating the bread of anxious toil;

   for he gives to his beloved sleep.”

-- Psalm 127:1-2

In his Grace in Practice: A Theology of Everyday Life (Eerdmans, 2007), Paul F. M. Zahl writes, “The more dire the circumstance or checkmate is, the more heartfelt and spontaneous the prayer for help is.”  I love the image of a checkmate because it describes well the human condition: defeated and helpless apart from God’s grace.  Due to the invasion of evil we find in ourselves and our world, we are utterly impotent to change, improve, or save ourselves. We are surrounded by reckless rooks and cruel queens that render our personal kingships hopelessly conquered.  

Checkmate.

While this may sound pessimistic, it’s the only thing that makes sense of “heartfelt and spontaneous” prayer, isn’t it?  To the degree we are optimistic about our ability to save ourselves and change the world, our fervency in prayer will disappear.  But to the degree that we see ourselves accurately, as helpless, we will pray to God for help.  And perhaps this is why energetic and sincere prayer is so rarely found today: we don’t know that we’re in checkmate.

And there was a prophetess, Anna, the daughter of Phanuel, of the tribe of Asher. She was advanced in years, having lived with her husband seven years from when she was a virgin, and then as a widow until she was eighty-four. She did not depart from the temple, worshiping with fasting and prayer night and day. And coming up at that very hour she began to give thanks to God and to speak of him to all who were waiting for the redemption of Jerusalem. –Luke 2:36-38

Anna’s life didn’t turn out the way she’d planned. As a young bride, Anna envisioned herself like other women in Jerusalem who spent their days and nights attending their families. But after her husband’s untimely death, Anna never remarried. One can only imagine the combined agonies of widowhood and old age in first-century Jerusalem. But what did Anna do with the time God gave her? Was she to live out her days as an object of pity?