From A Pastor Prays for His People by Wendell C. Hawley

Everlasting God, Lover of our souls,

Open our eyes to see your love for us—

your love which was established before creation

and continues unfailing and unending, even unto this very hour.

Your Word tells us that you had a plan for us a long, long time ago.

A love for us not based on

performance,

or beauty,

or inherent value.

A love which sent a Savior to the unlovely,

the destitute,

the helpless,

the condemned.

A Savior whose love prompted him to say:

“Come unto me all you who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

Lord, may you this day be the present help of all who turn to you,

whether hurt or ashamed,

whether sick or disheartened,

whether troubled or angry.

You have come to change the human condition drastically, totally . . .

the sinful heart,

the stony heart,

the rebellious heart.

Holy physician, divine surgeon . . . work in our lives that our souls might

prosper in spiritual health and vitality.

Thank you, Lord,

for hearing,

for answering,

for meeting every need.

Amen.

"Got Thorns?" by Steve Krogh

Pastor, missionary, new church-plant elder, Steve Krogh's musing is from his book, Topography. The essay "Got Thorns" was first published in 2007 and remains timely.

In the movie "Amazing Grace" (about William Wilberforce's lifelong quest to abolish slavery in the British Empire more than two hundred years ago), there is a great scene where Wilberforce, a member of parliament in his young twenties, and his good friend William Pitt, who became prime minister at the tender age of twenty-four, are enjoying some good-natured horseplay on a morning exercise run.

They have been at their responsibilities awhile, and they are no longer naive to the cost of public service and positions of responsibility.

Since they lived in the days prior to Nike footwear, they are running barefoot. As they finish their run and are walking home, one of them painfully steps on a thorn and says, "Funny, how when you are running, you don't feel the pain of the thorns." Then, referring to the significant tasks before them, he concludes: "Let's keep running!"

Life is the same way, isn't it? When we slow down, get tired, start to give up

. . . then we feel the thorns. Perhaps it is the thorn of discouragement. Or the thorn of doubt. Or the thorn of criticism. Or the thorn of fear. When we are running the race, for some reason, we can step on the thorns and keep going.

The writer to the Hebrews says, "Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith." (Hebrews 12:2)

As we grow older, our pace will decline a bit. That is natural. Yet sometimes we lose our momentum a bit too soon. We slow down too much and aren't running as we should.

Is there an area in which you need to pick up the pace a bit? Have you slowed down when it comes to serving others with zeal? Spending time in the Word? Keeping up with a friend? Spending time with your spouse? Getting in shape? Keeping your commitments to the church body?

Sometimes when you feel the prick of the thorns, it's just an encouragement, to "Keep on running!"

The Fire Dependent by Lorraine Triggs

Any memories I have of Yellowstone National Park were contained in my trusty View-Master. (Historical note: “The View-Master system made the use of small high-quality photographic color images practical. Tourist attractions and travel views predominated in View-Master's early lists of reels, most of which were meant to be interesting to users of all ages.”)

Thanks to a recent episode of “Aerial America” on the Smithsonian Channel, my view of Yellowstone expanded beyond the View-Master.

On that episode, the camera first flew over lush forests made up of Lodgepole pine trees; then cut to footage from the devastating wildfires in 1988. The lush pine trees had become black charred sticks and littered close to 800,000 acres. So how did the new Lodgepole pines grow? Was there a massive plant a Lodgepole pine campaign?

In his soothing voice, the narrator explained a rather remarkable trait of these pines—the intense heat of the wildfires opened the trees’ cones which released thousands of new seeds that brought “new life” to the forests. The Lodgepole pines are a “fire-dependent” species.

I am not such a species.

You might say I am a “fire-averse” species, especially to trials of the fiery kind that lie in my pathway. My first reaction to a trial is usually one of surprise. How did this happen? This trial wasn’t supposed to be part of God’s plan for my wonderful life. My plan included more comfort and ease than hard decisions and anxious thoughts.

My second reaction is practical. Hmm, how I do I maneuver around the trial? What can I fix or do to make everything turn out all right? I want to hurry to the other side of the trial, with a happy ending of how great everything turned out. Like I said, I am fire-averse.

I have a hunch that Peter and James were like the Lodgepole pines—fire dependent. In just one verse, Peter dismisses my first reaction to trials, “Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you.” (I Peter 4:12) Perhaps the strange thing is a life absent of trials and pain.

James, also writing to first century Christians, takes care of my second reaction just as succinctly, “Blessed is the man who remains steadfast under trial, for when he has stood the test he will receive the crown of life, which God has promised to those who love him.” (James 1:12)

Also, like the Lodgepole pines, Peter and James knew that the intense heat of trials would explode into revealed glory and crowns of life in the presence of Jesus. New life bursts out of heat and fire. It was true for those first century Christians. It is true fo my fellow Christians in places like China, North Korea, Pakistan and Nigeria. And, reluctantly, it has to be true for me too.

That trial of the fiery kind? It still lies in my pathway, but today, I inched a bit closer to its heat, singing softly:

“When through fiery trials your pathway shall lie,

my grace, all sufficient, shall be your supply

The flames shall not hurt you. I only design

your dross to consume, and your gold to refine.”

True to His Nature - a prayer by Dr. Wendell C. Hawley

Most gracious God,

You have promised mercy through Jesus Christ to all who repent and believe in him.

We know that our only salvation is in Christ Jesus.

In his Word is our hope.

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

"Faithful" and "just" - divine attributes that are alien to our nature.

You are reliable,

consistent,

dependable,

utterly true to your holy nature.

With you, God, there is absolutely no duplicity,

only absolute dependability.

That is why we rely on the promise of your Word -

that with our confession of sins committed

and belief in the cleansing of our hearts by faith,

we have the charge of "unrighteous" removed from our record

and the righteousness of Christ imputed to us.

Desiring such a divine transaction, we now confess our sins to you.

Thanks and praise be to God, for he has promised the removal of all unrighteousness.

Calvary's detergent makes us clean -

now, no condemnation;

now, peace with God.

This is good news:

We who are cleansed are reconciled.

May we be more thankful for your daily mercies.

May we be humble under your correction.

May we be zealous in doing your will.

May we be watchful against temptation.

May we be content under trial.

May we be what we profess.

Great Shepherd of the sheep -

Look with compassion upon our number experiencing the valley of shadows,

unpleasant, painful, disconcerting -

yea, devastating troubles affect some here today.

May the presence of Jesus penetrate such awful gloom and give joyful

victory to all who feel abandoned.

May all leave this place rejoicing and saying,

"It was good to be in God's house today."

Lovingkindness with a Limp by Wil Triggs

Pastor Stringer is in the process of packing up his office for the move to Georgia. I don’t like goodbyes.

Even though we will both continue to labor for the good news, it won’t be the same. I’ve been a little wistful, revisiting sweet memories over the course of the last ten years . . .

Sharing Josh’s enthusiasm for books during his resident stint with the bookstall

Talking with old and new friends over south campus dinners when we met at Edison Middle School

Having a resident butcher who helped me know what to do with a tenderloin or how to brine a turkey

Heeding the call for 500 cinnamon rolls on Easter Sunday (that was Josh’s idea)

Laughing, almost crying and praying with him and other men at Men’s Bible Study. (I know; he’s not taking our Bible study with him, but we will miss him.)

Watching Lorraine and his daughter, Annie, share an air hug at the end of a recent Wednesday night

This week, Josh offered some books to the pastors and directors. Looking through the stack, I took one: Evangelical Dictionary of Biblical Theology by Dr. Walter Elwell.

In February 2019, I wrote a Saturday Musing about the word lovingkindness and William Tyndale, the Bible translator who created the English word. This word has stuck in my head and heart since then.

So when I got to my office with my new used treasure, I immediately opened to the word "lovingkindness" to see what the author had to say about it. The entry runs a full column. Here is a bit of what it says.

“The translation of the Hebrew word hesed in the KJV,” the entry begins.“…The nature of the God of Israel is love. Even when Israel has sinned, they are assured that Jehovah is full of lovingkindness. …The God of the covenant shows his covenantal faithfulness by his loving commitment to his people, regardless of their responsiveness or righteousness.”

As I have ruminated on the word over time, it seems as if this loving impulse of God is so opposite of my human impulses. That distinct otherness of God, manifested most obviously and fully in Jesus. I want unconditional love from God, and I’m getting it, but I’m not so sure I want to extend that love personally to others.

Nevertheless, Elwell’s entry continues to a place I'm not sure I want to go:

“The God who is love also expects his people to be sanctified by demonstrating lovingkindness to their covenant God and to others.”

So Josh is leaving, and even in his departure, God is using him (and his dictionary gift) to remind me of who God is and how he is calling me to live. I can be like Christ. I can walk in hesed, but it’s lovingkindness with a limp.

The nature of God, so antithetical to my natural human instincts, is more wonderful and right than anything I can manufacture in my humanity. Somehow, the Spirit works in and through us. We trust and rejoice and move forward.

God calls the Stringers to a new place. I pray God’s lovingkindness will be manifest in this move and in their church. In a post on his website, Michael Card, who wrote a whole book on hesed, shares a definition for the Hebrew word: “when the person from whom I have a right to expect nothing gives me everything.”

Thanks Josh, for your lovingkindness with a limp. Thank you for giving, well, not everything exactly, but a lot.

I Saw One Hanging on a Tree - hymn by John Newton

On the day between Good Friday and Easter, it would do our souls well to sit in front of the silent tomb and confront our sin that swirled in the bottom of the cup that Jesus drank.

I saw One hanging on a tree,

In agony and blood;

He fixed His loving eyes on me,

As near His cross I stood.

Sure, never to my latest breath,

Can I forget that look;

It seemed to charge me with His death,

Though not a word He spoke.

My conscience felt and owned the guilt,

And plunged me in despair:

I saw my sins His blood had spilt

And helped to nail Him there.

A second look He gave, which said,

"I freely all forgive:

This blood is for your ransom paid,

I die that you may live."

Chorus

O, can it be, upon a tree

The Savior died for me?

My soul is thrilled, my heart is filled,

To think He died for me!

In Christ There Is a Table Spread by Zach Fallon

In Christ there is a table spread

The wrath of God revealed

His body bore the sin of man

And by His wounds we’re healed

Our sin was great we could not bear

The weight, the guilty fare

But sinners eat and never pay

Because the Lamb is there!

In Christ there is a table spread

God’s everlasting grain

For those who come and take by faith

His grace it will sustain

Where will we go when we are weak?

When starving flesh has failed?

We’ll cry to God and by His strength

See Christ with face unveiled

In Christ there is a table spread

God’s promises achieved

And we forever will be His

If we by faith receive

Come to the supper of the Lamb

And take the Bread, the Wine

Come find the resurrected Life

Abiding in the Vine

Reality by Wallace Alcorn

Jesus said: "I am the Way."

He did not say, I shall show you the way.

If he had, he would have been saying

that the way to reality

is a matter of correct behavior,

of following his example.

But we cannot copy what Christ did,

so we must accept what he is.

Reality is not a matter of

what we do with our lives

but what Christ did by his death.

The way is not symbolic; it’s redemptive.

Jesus said: "I am the Truth."

He did not say, I shall tell you the truth.

If he had, he would have been saying

the truth of reality

is a matter of correct knowledge,

of knowing his teachings.

But the kind of belief we need for reality

is not a knowing but a trusting belief.

Reality is not a matter of

reasoning until we possess new facts

but believing until we sustain new life.

The truth is not theology; it’s regeneration.

Jesus said: "I am the Life."

He did not say, I shall give you life.

If he had, he would have been saying

that the purpose of reality

is a matter of correct ideals,

of our living a good life.

But we cannot rescue ourselves from death

and, so, must be redeemed by his own death.

Reality is not a matter of

our living to achieve the ideal

but Christ's dying to sacrifice the perfect.

The life is not being better; it’s being born again.

Jesus said, “I am The Way.”

We cannot find our own way in ceremonies, 

which can only symbolize a way: 

we will find the way in the person 

who is The Way. 

This is the purpose of reality.

Jesus said, “I am The Truth.”

We cannot comprehend truth from theology, 

which can only systematize what we have been told:

we will embrace the truth in the person 

who is The Truth. 

This is the meaning of reality.

Jesus said, “I am The Life.”

We cannot sustain our own life by routine,

which can only organize behavior; 

we will live life in the person 

who is The Life. 

This is the worth of reality.