“And to the angel of the church in Smyrna write: ‘The words of the first and the last, who died and came to life.

“‘I know your tribulation and your poverty (but you are rich) . . .

– Revelation 2:8-9a (ESV)

I’ve been thinking about tribulation lately. I have been blessedly free of it for most of my adult life, which seems strange. And somewhat disconcerting. The biggest opposition I face, in general, is of the level of someone misunderstanding or misrepresenting something I posted.

Don’t get me wrong; I do not strive for tribulation. And I thank God every day for the goodness he has showered on me.

But I also am beginning to understand, I think, why tribulation is good. I may put this into words soon (just not right now – I think I’m too tired to do it justice). So instead I just wanted to point out the virtue of Smyrna, that embattled and poverty stricken little church that Christ honors in the early chapters of the Revelation. Jesus reminds them that he is the one who has died and come back to life.

Knowing this, what on earth can we fear? He is alive, and even death was unable to defeat him. He is the first and last. When you think of it, he is the first and the last Word. There is nothing to fear.

And he blesses little Smyrna, one of the two churches (the other is Philadelphia) of which nothing bad is said in the letters to the churches of Revelation. He sees their poverty, and pronounces them rich! He sees their tribulation. And he honors it.

More on tribulation later (I hope). But I’m inspired by Smyrna, in their poverty glorified and in their tribulation comforted by Jesus Christ himself, who became poor for us and suffered for our good. Praise his name forever!

And whenever the living creatures give glory and honor and thanks to him who is seated on the throne, who lives forever and ever, the twenty-four elders fall down before him who is seated on the throne and worship him who lives forever and ever. They cast their crowns before the throne, saying,

“Worthy are you, our Lord and God,

to receive glory and honor and power,

for you created all things,

and by your will they existed and were created.”

Revelation 4:9-11 (ESV)

It’s all him. Our Lord deserves all the honor and praise and glory. This is evidenced by the willing worship of the elders in the throne room, who with joyful abandon cast their precious crowns at his feet.

He is worthy – really, the only one who is worthy. I was pondering this as I prayed over a matter heavy on my heart. Where human hope runs out there is always hope. Because he died and rose again, and on the cross he paid for all of our sins, Indeed he took them upon himself. The torture and passion of that central fact of history and eternity stands, on its own, as the evidence: he is worthy. He is worthy! And in this world of trouble and woe, the worthiness, power, and glory of the Lord remains. Nothing is too hard for him. Not even dying for unworthy creatures like you and me. He can heal anyone, he can raise anyone, he can reconcile anyone – both to himself and to those around them. And while, through human eyes, we often think that he has not worked, it’s just because we only see a small sliver of reality. He went to the cross for his creation, a creation in rebellion against him. He went to the cross and his blood covers the vilest of us in its purifying flow. He came to reconcile, and to make perfect that which seems unredeemable. He is patient, and – in the best way – stubborn, and determined, and powerful, and terrible in his wrath in his zeal for his name and for his children. Even when his children run from him.

He is worthy. And, thought we often hold on tight to them, when we finally see him as he is we will understand how foolish it is to covet our crowns. He alone is worthy, and in the light of his face we will joyfully cast the crowns he himself made for us at his wounded feet.

The Spirit and the Bride say, “Come.” And let the one who hears say, “Come.” And let the one who is thirsty come; let the one who desires take the water of life without price.

Revelation 22:17 (ESV)

But he, desiring to justify himself, said to Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”

– Luke 10:29 (ESV)

Those of us who are deep thinkers (note: that’s not necessarily a good thing) often are guilty of making things too hard.

Who is my neighbor? This one I am to love and sacrifice for?

Yesterday I felt that still, small voice remind me who my neighbor was. And – a rarity – I did something about it. It was a small thing, but I’ve found that the Kingdom of heaven is built out of a billion small things. Me being one of them.

When asking “who is my neighbor?” I’m hoping that I’ll learn not to ponder so deeply, adopting “a chin in a hand and a thoughtful pose” as the Indigo Girls once sang, and instead walk to my front door, take a step out onto the porch, and turn to my right or left.

Do all things without grumbling or questioning, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world, holding fast to the word of life, so that in the day of Christ I may be proud that I did not run in vain or labor in vain.

– Philippians 3:14-16 (ESV)

Blameless.

That is what we are called to be. In reading these lines from Philippians 3 I am reminded of the description of the blessed man of Psalm 1:

There is an aspect to this that I hadn’t thought of before tonight. Look at these commands: don’t walk in the counsel of the wicked, or stand in the way of sinners, or sit in the seat of scoffers. Do everything withough grumbling or complaining. Why? Well, the first answer is, of course, because these actions dishonor the Lord.

But we should also avoid them because they waste time.

When a lamp is lit, it shines. It doesn’t grumble or complain about the lighting, or what it is illuminating, or the fact that its lampshade could use some dusting.

Sitting for a time with the scoffers can be enjoyable; most of us enjoy venting our cynicism and getting our vitriol on now and then. The self-indulgence of perceived hurt carries with it a perverse pleasure. But what a colossal waste of time. I’m reminded of the scene from the movie Gettysburg in which Robert E. Lee scolds general Jeb Stuart for the late arrival of his cavalry to the battlefield. Lee states that Stuart’s honor is being questioned by the other officers. At that Stuart becomes indignant and demands a chance to settle the score with his accusers. Lee will have none of this nonsense, however. “There is no time!” he shouts.

We live in a world that pulls at our cynicism, trying to drag it out of us. These are, indeed, evil days. The natural state of man is to complain, to grumble, to scoff. Yet we are called to have none of that; there is no time! Why delay the shining of the light of Jesus into the darkness? And why let the fog of our sarcasm and bitterness cover it up?

Do everything without grumbling or questioning. That is the command. It may not seem natural, but we are children of God now, called to live blameless lives and to shine the light of hope in this dark, smoky world. May I take this to heart in my own life. It’s incredible, the effort it takes me just to cast a dim glow through the lampshade I have pulled so tightly around myself. Yet for some soul I meet tomorrow there may be no more time.

I was just thinking about hope. It’s a wonderful thing! I hope to write more cogently and thoughtfully about it in the near future. I hope that you are experiencing hope today.

I will start updating regularly again, soon (I hope!).

Have a great day, blogosphere!

As quoted on Some Thoughts:

For even though our eyes, in whatever direction they may turn, are compelled to gaze upon God’s works, yet we see how changeable is our attention, and how swiftly are dissipated any godly thoughts that may touch us.

– From John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, I.xiv.2.

Man, ain’t that the truth!

Some undissipated godly thoughts would be wonderful. I think those long neglected disciplines of meditation, stillness, and silence perhaps hold the key.

Praying for undissipated meditation on the One most deserving of our attentions today . . .

[Hat Tip: Gratitude & Hoopla]

For some reason my time and mental energy have seemed limited lately, at least in this space. I can’t point to any one thing, though there are a few suspects. My attentions have been focused elsewhere, and this may explain both the dearth of posts and their relative lack of depth.

J.R.R. Tolkien once wrote that “It is a curse to have the epic temperament in an age devoted to snappy bits.” Unfortunately, snappy bits seem to be all I can produce these days. But I think that will soon change.

I am learning more about myself. I find that I live to fix, I live to create. Opportunities to “fix” I’ve had in spades recently, as a website that I do the webmastering for has had numerous performance problems recently. All appear to be resolved now. Wooohoo! [Bill does the Dilbert engineer’s victory dance. Be glad you can’t see it]

Then there’s creativity. I’m not a particularly good artist, but one area where I have (if I can say it) been gifted is in the area of software development. I consider it more art than science, and I believe God himself is a programmer. The proof I have is the DNA in every cell of your body. In a small, imperfect, and infinitely less elegant and innovative way, my work on the code for Bloo has been an inspiration to me, because it is my imitation of the creativity of God.

I have been working quite hard on Bloo, preparing to put it into the public domain. I wonder sometimes if this is worth it. I’m not doing it for money, certainly (it will be free, after all). For pride? Possibly. I would be a liar to say that I don’t take pride in my code, because I do. I think every good developer does. But in some ways I believe that this is almost an act of worship. Hear me out: we are told to do everything heartily, as for the Lord and not for men. Maybe God will be pleased with my imitation of him, in ways I don’t understand. And perhaps someone will take pleasure in being able to use Bloo to create their blog.

So in my free time-slices I am working heartily on Bloo. I have a lot to do before the end of the month. I’m taking risks in the code, re-factoring some pretty important parts, to get it in the most understandable and maintainable form possible. I’m very thankful I get to work on this. I’m hopeful that when Bloo is released I will be able to devote more time to other creative pursuits, such as writing my stalled novel, or playing my guitar more.

And teaching. That’s one thing that I am concentrating very hard on these days, regardless of the doings in Bloo. I’m so thankful that God is allowing me to teach again!

Good night Blogosphere. God loves you!

Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men . . .

– Colossians 3:23 (ESV)

“Towels and dishes and sandals, all the ordinary sordid things of our lives, reveal more quickly than anything what we are made of. It takes God almighty in us to do the meanest duty as it ought to be done.”

– Oswald Chambers

I’ve added this quote to my quote rotation.

I love that line: “It takes God almighty in us to do the meanest duty as it ought to be done.”

Most of us spend a lot of our time doing “mean duty” – all those thousands of trivial things we do each day. And yet God can glorify even the meanest duty. He can bring significance to what appears to be the most insignificant task at hand.

Thinking interpersonally, he can make the smallest gesture or the most innocuous sentence, when embued with His grace, become something that lights the grey life of the broken and wounded other.

May my thoughts and actions be full of towels and dishes and sandals . . .

For what is our hope or joy or crown of boasting before our Lord Jesus at his coming? Is it not you? For you are our glory and joy.

– 1 Thessalonians 2:19-20 (ESV)

I am beginning to understand something (not that I have attained to it!).

As we grow in faith, there is a necessary shift in our focus that I believe must take place. And it is a joyous shift! It’s a changing of our focus from inward to outward. I have not attained this yet! But I can see it shouting from Paul’s exclamation above, and I can glimpse it now and then beginning to emerge in me.

“For what is our hope or joy or crown . . . is it not you?” Paul loved the people that he discipled and pastored and evangelized. Absolutely loved them. And you can see in his words above what his hope and joy and crown was. It was them. How far Paul had come from the dazed and fearfully joyous ex-persecuter of the church, blindly sitting and fasting with scales on his eyes, to the man here speaking hope and joy to the Christians of Thessalonica.

It’s the subtle moving from “Lord, thank you for saving me”, to “Lord, thank you for saving them!”

I begin to feel it. I received two emails today from past band members that filled me with joy. I see Christ move in my own children and my hope shines brightly. It’s a better feeling than just knowing the hope inside me. It’s knowing that that same hope is inside them. It’s praying that they will live the life more deeply, worship more freely, and love more recklessly than I. It’s akin to the joyous wish of the Green Lady in C.S. Lewis’ masterful Perelandra: to one day fall at the feet of her children, now grown in their love for God far beyond where she had ever gone.

There’s nothing like it.

“And the Lord restored the fortunes of Job, when he had prayed for his friends . . .” – Job 42:10a

There is something deeply profound about that verse.

A challenge for you, and for me too: think about the one person on earth that irritates, or hurts, or frustrates you the most, and begin praying for that person every day.

I believe that nothing but restoration and good can come from that.

(and if you ever just want to have your mind blown, read the last few chapters of Job!)