Consult together, argue your case, and state your proofs that idol worship pays. Who made these things known long ago? What idol ever told you they would happen? Was it not I, the LORD? For there is no other God but me – a just God and a Savior – no, not one!

– Isaiah 45:21 (NLT)

I stumbled upon this passage in Isaiah tonight. I find the passages in Scripture such as this one where God engages His people in debate intriguing and powerful.

Here God seems to be nearly smacking us over the head, as if to say “are you guys nuts?!”. Frankly, in my observation, fallen humanity is nuts. I’ve marvelled at the crazy behavior of even the relatively sane people around me, and I don’t fare well either in this analysis. We humans have this mad tendency to set up our own gods. This isn’t a post where I plan on listing the evils of modern idol worship – the worship of money or pleasure or sports teams or fill-in-the-blank. I only make the observation that not much has changed in the last 2700 years since Isaiah penned these words. The human race still runs after idols at the drop of a hat – and usually we are the ones dropping the hat. Will we ever learn?

We can learn if we will just listen to the Lord. He continues, inviting, ever inviting us back to reason and to Him.

Let all the world look to me for salvation! For I am God; there is no other. I have sworn by my own name, and I will never go back on my word: Every knee will bow to me, and every tongue will confess allegiance to my name.”

I find in that last declaration several pivotal truths. First, God is not kidding – we can chase after idols as much as we want, we can be angry with God, we can shake our fist at Him or bargain with Him like He was some petty diety. We can pay Him lipservice one hour a week and live like hades the other 167. We can ignore Him in times of plenty, taking the credit for our own good fortune, and then complain to Him when times are tough. We can do all these things, but it won’t change the central Truth of the universe: there will come a day when every knee will bow, and every tongue will confess. This will happen – He has sworn it by His own name and has made very clear that He will not go back on His word.

And, not only will we bow and confess, some of us will also finally get our theology right:

The people will declare, “The LORD is the source of all my righteousness and strength.”

Yes He is. He is the Source of anything good or strong residing in me or you, much like an artist is the source of the beauty on a canvas. Paul takes up this theme in the second chapter of Ephesians, reminding us that we are God’s workmanship, created for the good works in Christ that God had in mind before He created the world. Today I was thinking about the artistry of God and His workmanship in our lives – what can we do but praise Him when we think of his patience and care in molding us, often painfully, into creatures that will truly reflect His glory?

Paul takes up the soaring refrain of Isaiah 45 in the second chapter of Philippians. Written anno dominie, Paul has the blessed advantage of knowing the One whom Isaiah could only glimpse dimly from his vantage point pre-Christ.

God raised him up to the heights of heaven and gave him a name that is above every other name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee will bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

“. . . to the glory of God the Father.”

Amen – may it be so.

. . . All of you, clothe yourselves with humility toward one another, because,

“God opposes the proud

but gives grace to the humble.”

1 Peter 5:5b

And what, then, is humility? Surely Peter is not referring to the image that many of us conjure in our minds when we hear that word – false modesty, the refusal to accept a compliment, the constant putting down of oneself. We’ve all been there before. For instance, have you ever had this experience? In church someone has sung a song beautifully that has inspired you to worship God. Seeking to bless and encourage them, and, frankly, to thank them for using their talents in this way, you offer a compliment:

When what would have been far more edifying (and, frankly, a whole lot simpler) would have been the following exchange:

Many of us have actually been on both sides of that exchange. I’m particularly bad about accepting compliments myself. And that isn’t humility. Neither pride nor false modesty equate to humility, because they both are attitudes of the heart that have self as their first concern. And true humility is not self-focused. True humility is rare – in fact some of the humblest people you’ll ever meet may not at first seem to be particularly humble. Because they don’t act humble, they are humble, and that is a subtle yet crucial distinction. True humility is the joyful forgetfulness of self that points one’s heart and attentions toward God and toward others. Being around someone who is truly humble is, frankly, a respite from the modesty and pride games that we so often engage in. It’s a treat!

Peter tells us to “Clothe yourselves with humility toward one another”. I’m intrigued by Peter’s use of the word “clothe” here (not being a Greek scholar I can’t move any further beyond “I’m intrigued” . . .). It’s an interesting concept. Throughout history, clothing has been an indicator of humility, of modesty. Here we are being asked to “clothe ourselves” with humility. Almost as if humility is something we “put on”, like clothing.

I’m treading on shaky ground here, perhaps, because I don’t want to misrepresent the command. But have you noticed how many times in the New Testament we are asked to “put on” something? We are told to “put on the full armor of God”, to “put on the new self”, to “put on love”. I believe that just as clothing is not part of our fleshly bodies, humility is foreign to the Flesh. It’s not a natural thing for us. It’s something that we have to “put on”.

There have been times when I have believed I was “clothing myself with humility” when actually I was, metaphorically, wearing an outfit that would make Liberace blush. And that’s the key – anytime in your heart of hearts you are saying “look at me!” you are a far country away from humility. Have you ever had this thought in that secret place your heart: “I hope people notice how humble I am”? I admit, I have.

No, true humility is the modest clothing of self-forgetfulness. True humility doesn’t get embarassed, and doesn’t guard its pride, because it’s not thinking about itself at all. I’m reminded of that famous and most ancient exchange:

How on earth had Adam and Eve not realized that they were naked? I believe it’s because, before the fall, they had never really thought of themselves at all, at least not in the way we think of ourselves. We can’t fathom how an unfallen mind considers itself. It’s not that they were dumb or blind. I can guarantee you, for instance, that Adam knew Eve was naked. “The man and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame.”

We won’t know what that was like until we stand redeemed in the presence of our Savior. So, in the meantime, we are to clothe ourselves.

With humility.

“In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world.”

Thus Luke starts the second chapter of his Gospel, linking the earth-shaking advent of Christ with a historical marker – the decree of a pagan ruler seated on his throne many, many miles away from this small, Judean backwater trouble-spot of his empire.

How long had the Jewish people waited for their Messiah? How many of the children of Abraham had been born, lived and died hungry for deliverance? In Romans Paul describes all of creation “groaning” for liberation from its bondage to decay. In the same way many of us groan under the burdens that life has placed on us and we long for deliverance.

When the time of their purification according to the Law of Moses had been completed, Joseph and Mary took [Jesus] to Jerusalem to present him to the Lord (as it is written in the Law of the Lord, “Every firstborn male is to be consecrated to the Lord”), and to offer a sacrifice in keeping with what is said in the Law of the Lord: “a pair of doves or two young pigeons.”

Luke 2:22-24 (NIV)

I can’t really imagine what was going through the minds of Joseph and Mary. They appeared to be like any other normal, young, devout Jewish couple bringing the offering designated for the less well-to-do (a pair of doves or young pigeons) in observance of the law of Moses – a law that called for sacrifice forty days after the birth of a firstborn son. But the events of their engagement, pregnancy, and, of course, the miraculous and no doubt nerve-wracking birth of the One the angel instructed them to name “Jesus” were anything but “normal”.

And, in wider context, it was just a hard time to be a Jew. Their country was under occupation by the ruthless Romans. The glorious days of Israel’s past were gone, and the people were anguished and troubled. Many awaited a deliverer to bring them out of this mess.

Among them was Simeon. I am humbled by the patience and perseverance of many of the people described in scripture, and Simeon is a prime example:

Now there was a man in Jerusalem called Simeon, who was righteous and devout. He was waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was upon him.

It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before he had seen the Lord’s Christ. Moved by the Spirit, he went into the temple courts. When the parents brought in the child Jesus to do for him what the custom of the Law required, Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying: “Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you now dismiss your servant in peace. For my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all people, a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.”

Luke 2:25-32 (NIV)

The old prophet took Jesus in his arms and praised God for this one simple look at his Deliverer. “You may now dismiss your servant in peace, for my eyes have seen your salvation”.

One look at Jesus was all this man had been waiting for his entire life. Think about that for a second. He had been promised by God that he would see the Messiah, and upon holding Jesus he knew that God had been faithful to keep that promise. Simeon got one look at the One who would not only redeem Israel but would also be a light of revelation to the Gentiles. He got one look at the One who would reveal God to those who were far away from God, mired in paganism and the vanity of earth. God would be revealed to them in Jesus because Jesus is God. Simeon was holding the King of kings in his arms. He looked in Jesus’ face and saw the salvation of God.

He had waited a long, long time for this moment. Yet he did not criticize God for being late – For Simeon, the whole of his life culminated here in this one look. And, satisfied, he was now ready to go home.

But not before gently revealing to the young, wondering couple that stood before him some hard truths:

The child’s father and mother marveled at what was said about him. Then Simeon blessed them and said to Mary, his mother: “This child is destined to cause the falling and rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be spoken against, so that the thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your own soul too.”

A sword will pierce your own soul too.

How true that was, although Mary could probably not see it fully then. This little baby was indeed the Redeemer of the whole earth, and a redemption of such magnitude would not be won bloodlessly. Simeon had waited his whole life for this moment. And Jesus would wait about thirty years for His moment, for the beginning of the “falling and rising” of so many in Israel, and for His own falling under the crushing weight of a crossbar laid on his shredded back and the rising up of his torn body on a cross – the lifting up of the Christ that would draw all men to Him. No – our redemption was not won bloodlessly. It would take the last full measure of devotion from the One that Simeon held in his arms.

The world had waited on God for a long time. You may be waiting on God too – for redemption, rescue, deliverance. Perhaps for the revelation of God to one you love, or for the resurrection of your joy, or for salvation. I pray that your eyes (and mine) will see God’s salvation. God’s sense of time is not ours, and the wait can seem long. But He is faithful (though in my weakness I don’t live that fact out all the time). I know that it is always worth waiting when the One you are waiting on is God.

I hope to thank Simeon one day for his example of what it means to wait on God, as we both drink in one eternal look at our beautiful Savior.

2 Samuel 22 is an amazing chapter. In it we read the song of David which the Old Testament warrior penned in exultation because God had delivered him from all his enemies.

I am struck by the power of these images.

In my distress I called to the LORD ;

I called out to my God.

From his temple he heard my voice;

my cry came to his ears.

“The earth trembled and quaked,

the foundations of the heavens shook;

they trembled because he was angry.

Smoke rose from his nostrils;

consuming fire came from his mouth,

burning coals blazed out of it.

He parted the heavens and came down;

dark clouds were under his feet.

He mounted the cherubim and flew;

he soared on the wings of the wind.

2 Samuel 22:7-11 (NIV)

The thought of the Lord mounting his cherubim and soaring on the wings of the wind . . . it sends chills down my spine. The dictionary defines the Cherubim as, basically, composite beings; the winged footstool and chariot of the Almighty. I can’t even picture that. Selah, indeed . . .

God heard David’s cry and He, basically, opened up a can on David’s enemies. The “entrance” God makes in the poetry of David as He comes to his rescue, well, is it not awesome? It takes seven verses just to describe it (2 Sam 22:8-14), and that’s just the entrance! Darkness envelops Him, bright light streams forth, bolts of lightening, His thunderous voice! We serve a mighty God!

And it fills me with awe that these apocalyptic images describe God’s rescue of David. For most of my Christian life the word “rescue” has held special significance. As one of my favorite worship songs puts it:

I need You Jesus

To come to my rescue

Where else can I go?

Just as David needed to be delivered from his earthly enemies, so we need to be delivered from our spiritual enemy, the accuser of our souls and the father of the iniquity we are born into. And the work of Christ to save us from our sin is the rescue and His fame and the wonder of His heroism echo resoundingly in eternity. The older I get the more I understand – there is no where else I can go, and no other place I want to be other than in God’s hands.

“He reached down from on high and took hold of me;

he drew me out of deep waters.

He rescued me from my powerful enemy,

from my foes, who were too strong for me.

They confronted me in the day of my disaster,

but the LORD was my support.

He brought me out into a spacious place;

he rescued me because he delighted in me.

Amazing. Our Father stands ever ready to come to our defense, to rescue us from our powerful enemy. Because He delights in His children.

I need You, Jesus, to come to my rescue.

The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge . . .

– Proverbs 1:7 (NIV)

Fearing God is not in vogue these days, at least not in the culture in which we live. It’s hard for us to wrap our minds around verses like Proverbs 1:7. The verse continues: “but fools despise wisdom and discipline.” This is scary in itself (speaking of fear) when I think about how much I despise discipline.

So I’m pondering this passage: “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge”.

Knowledge of what?

A possible answer comes to me. Fear of the Lord is – in part – the knowledge of how completely helpless I am without Him. Do I understand that? I’m an American, with a checking account and a college degree and a 401k and a house and three (three?) cars. It’s easy for the well-integrated unbelievers among us to not “feel” helpless. Our physical circumstances are not desperate.

Yet, without Christ we are helpless. There is no “pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps” in the Kingdom of God. We have so little power on our own. Christ died for us while we were dead in our trespasses and sins. You can’t get much more helpless than “dead”.

But if we’re in the Kingdom, adopted children and beloved by our Father, why the fear aspect? Why does fear need to intrude into my relationship with God? Wouldn’t fearing God interfere with my love for Him?

Oh, if I could only begin to comprehend His holiness, His power, His splendor and His glory, I might know real fear for the first time. Fear expressing itself in dumbfounded awe, trembling love, and prostrate devotion. Fear that only leads me to love Him more.

I leave you with a favorite passage from Job:

Then the LORD answered Job out of the whirlwind and said,

“Who is this that darkens counsel

By words without knowledge?

“Now gird up your loins like a man,

And I will ask you, and you instruct Me!

“Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?

Job 38:1-4a (NASB)

And on and on for 60+ more awe-inspiring verses.

And Job gets it. He knows where he was when God laid the foundations of the earth.

He was nowhere.

Nowhere, that is, except within the loving and holy thoughts of his Creator.

Then Job answered the LORD and said,

“Behold, I am insignificant; what can I reply to You?

I lay my hand on my mouth.

Job understood the fear of the Lord. And it made him wise.

I lay my hand on my mouth.

Wisdom calls aloud in the street,

she raises her voice in the public squares;

at the head of the noisy streets she cries out,

in the gateways of the city she makes her speech:

Proverbs 1:20-21 (NIV)

Wisdom – what is it? As you read the Bible you realize that, however it is defined, it is golden in God’s eyes. It seems to me that wisdom is not so much “knowledge”, and it is not high philosophy or an intricate system of logic. It is what God granted Solomon in 1 Kings 3 when he prayed for a discerning heart and the ability to distinguish between right and wrong. It is the ability to see clearly, and to judge rightly, and to know God’s will. True wisdom only comes from God.

And Wisdom is not something God hoards. No, the God whom Paul referred to as the “Only Wise” invites us to ask Him for it. He’s got a storehouse of it that He is ready to pour out on you and I, liberally and without reproach:

If you need wisdom–if you want to know what God wants you to do–ask him, and he will gladly tell you. He will not resent your asking. – James 1:5

How can we not fall head over heels in love with God after reading that? We all need wisdom – it keeps us from making dumb choices and messing up our lives and the lives of those around us. And God offers it lavishly. He wants us to ask.

And wisdom is persistent – she’s in the streets, crying out, rattling cages, practically whacking us over the head.

“You simpletons!” she cries. “How long will you go on being simpleminded? How long will you mockers relish your mocking? How long will you fools fight the facts? Come here and listen to me! I’ll pour out the spirit of wisdom upon you and make you wise. – Proverbs 1:22-23

Heh – I like the fact that God chose to personify Wisdom as a lady in this passage, and one not to be trifled with either. Wisdom is a commodity that we often think we can do without, and we – wait, let me just change that to “I” – flounder about, making my daily choices usually depending on my own increasingly faulty faculties.

I may not be a king like Solomon, but I am a dad, and I’ve got a family that is depending on me to lead them wisely, and we’re facing situations that we’ve never dealt with before, and, dear Lord, the stakes are high.

So I’m asking, Lord. Pour out a spirit of wisdom on us and make us wise. Lady Wisdom is invited to come make herself at home, rearrange the furniture, sing loudly at the breakfast table, and whack us over the heads if need be. Thank you for Your promise.

Lord, grant us wisdom!

I was reading the great and terrible third chapter of Lamentations this morning (just a little something light to start off my day) – I am struck by the honesty that can descend on a human being when he has reached the end of himself, and all his illusions are gone.

The great prophet wails in the ruins of Jerusalem:

I am the man who has seen affliction by the rod of His wrath.

He has led me and made me walk

In darkness and not in light.

Surely He has turned His hand against me

Time and time again throughout the day.

He has aged my flesh and my skin,

And broken my bones.

He has besieged me

And surrounded me with bitterness and woe.

He has set me in dark places

Like the dead of long ago.

He has hedged me in so that I cannot get out;

He has made my chain heavy.

Even when I cry and shout,

He shuts out my prayer.

Jeremiah suffered something that most of us have never faced – the complete destruction of everything he knew. And the absence of the God who had animated his bold and tragic prophecies for so long.

Even when I cry and shout,

He shuts out my prayer.

I appreciate (although I cannot articulate it well) the honesty of the prophet. He knows that it isn’t the cruel Babylonians who have destroyed him.

God has.

God is the one who has laid the siege, not Nebuchadnezzar. Do I understand these things?

No.

But my Lord is greater than I can understand, and His ways are higher, His thoughts deeper, and His purposes beyond comprehension. I tend to keep Him at a safe distance, and relate to him via the dry vehicles of logic and stated truths. Nice and safe. And God is indeed the great Logos and the Author of Truth. But my Lord is also a warrior poet, an artist without parallel. He inspired his weeping prophet to write these words in a Hebrew acrostic poem in the middle of the book of Lamentations, and in the midst of destruction and hopelessness. For some reason that amazes me. A poem when I would have simply been shrieking. If Jeremiah can write these words prostrate in the rubble and blood of shattered Jerusalem, surely I can cling to and hope in God in the midst of my easy, untroubled life?

This I recall to my mind,

Therefore I have hope.

Through the LORD’s mercies we are not consumed,

Because His compassions fail not.

They are new every morning;

Great is Your faithfulness.

“The LORD is my portion,” says my soul,

“Therefore I hope in Him!”

The LORD is good to those who wait for Him,

To the soul who seeks Him.

It is good that one should hope and wait quietly

For the salvation of the LORD.

It is good for a man to bear

The yoke in his youth.

Let him sit alone and keep silent,

Because God has laid it on him;

Let him put his mouth in the dust–

There may yet be hope.

Let him give his cheek to the one who strikes him,

And be full of reproach.

For the Lord will not cast off forever.

Though He causes grief,

Yet He will show compassion

According to the multitude of His mercies.

For He does not afflict willingly,

Nor grieve the children of men.

He does not afflict willingly. But He does afflict, in His wisdom and His love, and for a time. He will not cast off forever. Which means that we can hope! His faithfulness is great, and His mercies are new, every single morning.

I pray for a new morning in the life of the one who feels cast off, who has lost hope, who’s chains are heavy and who’s prayer seems shut out. God is not absent. The cynics and fools have it wrong – God is not dead. He is here, alive and the Author of life, and He will not cast off forever. His faithfulness is greater than we can imagine.

That’s one reason we sometimes have trouble imagining it.

. . . knowing that Christ, having been raised from the dead, dies no more. Death no longer has dominion over Him. For the death that He died, He died to sin once for all; but the life that He lives, He lives to God.

– Romans 6:9-10 (NKJV)

Thanks to Michelle Malkin for reminding me of this passage.

There is much in the surrounding context of these two verses having to do with us, our condition regarding sin, our life in Christ, etc. But I love these verses which focus on Christ’s complete victory, and the line that gets my heart pumping is this: Death no longer has dominion over Him.

Jesus, my Hero. He submitted Himself to death. And, for the joy set before Him, endured the cross and the shame and the torture. He made it through death and out the other side. He became the Dying God. For us!

And Death lost. It no longer has dominion over Him. It cowers, powerless, in the glorious light of the Life of Christ which conquered Death forever.

Of course, we still shrink before the mystery of death this side of Heaven, we still grieve terribly when those we love die. But with our eyes on Jesus we can take courage – He has defeated death, and not just “barely”. He has crushed death and won a victory so complete that it prompted this holy taunt from Paul:

“Death has been swallowed up in victory. Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” – (1 Corinthians 15:54-55).

Paul lived at a time when death was common and life was cheap. Yet he knew that the promise spoken through the prophet Hosea hundreds of years earlier had been fulfilled in Christ.

Thanks be to God.

Love is patient,

love is kind.

It does not envy,

it does not boast,

it is not proud.

It is not rude,

it is not selfseeking,

it is not easily angered,

it keeps no record of wrongs.

Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails.

– I Corinthians 13:4-8 (NIV)

Lately, for some reason, simple truths that I’ve read many times have begun to jump out at me (hence all the “wow, isn’t this cool?!” Bible posts).

I am especially struck by the last two passages above. Love rejoices in the truth. Truth – so important, so vital in an age where truth is mocked, where it is considered intangible and relative.

Love always protects. Yes. Love stands in the gap. It flings itself on top of the grenade. It rushes into battle for its beloved. Love spreads its arms wide to be nailed to a cross.

Always trusts, always hopes. Love is not naive. But love understands that with God anything is possible. Trust and hope are powerful weapons in a cynical and mocking world.

There are those who have no hope because they have never had anyone hope anything for them. “You’ll never amount to anything”. “You’re worthless”. These are the words they have been bathed in all their lives. And yet in Christ we can hope – we possess hope – because we know that He accomplishes in us His good pleasure, and builds us up into a beautiful work of art for His glory, no matter how ugly we may think we are.

We hope because love always perseveres. Love never fails.

Never. Love does not give up. Love will go to Golgotha for its beloved, even when its beloved is the one carrying the whips and the nails.

Amazing.

Oh, the joys of those who trust the LORD,

who have no confidence in the proud, or in those who worship idols.

O LORD my God, you have done many miracles for us.

Your plans for us are too numerous to list.

If I tried to recite all your wonderful deeds,

I would never come to the end of them.

– Psalm 40:3-4 (NLT)

It’s really good tonight to read God’s word!

And it’s good to be in His family. To be identified with God – to trust in Him and take no confidence in the gods of this world. It’s such a privilege. I’m reminded of Psalm 87: “This one was born in Zion.”

I picture the Lord wrapping His arms around His child and saying “this one’s Mine”. Mine – born in Zion. A Kingdom child of the promise.

God’s goodness and mercies toward us really are too numerous to count. Others may choose the gods of this world. I choose (or am chosen by, for reasons I’ll never fathom) the Lord of the Universe.

“For I was born in Zion

Awakened love is crying

Out for You. Oh it must be You!” – David Ruis, “No Other”