Jesus Wept

Did the human Jesus utter

a cosmic ‘why?' at Lazarus’ tomb?
Were His tears a gift from heaven
meant to baptize the holy gloom?
Or was His grief a token,
just an off-hand, stagéd nod
to sanctify...to sanitize
an anguished, weeping God?

I ask, for Jesus surely knew

His friend would soon arise;
He planned to ‘rob’ that grave before
those mourners’ very eyes.
So, why the crying? Why the flood
washing my Saviour’s face?
He felt the rending we all feel
when loved ones leave this place...

Perhaps it was at Joseph’s tomb

Jesus first learned to mourn,
separated from the man who
guarded Him since He was born.
O yes, He knew the God of life
rules, likewise, over death:
the only fitting answer for
our rank unrighteousness.

It was to bear that very sting
that he was born at all--
to offer His unblemished life
as payment for our Fall.
‘When you see Me, you see the Father,’
Jesus clearly said.
What kind of tears eternal fell
when from Him Adam fled?

...when David took Uriah’s life

...when Jonah ran away...
and what a cloudburst when His wrath
pours out on Judgment Day!
His awesome plan...His glorious plan
includes this bitterest cup.
We’re loath to look into its depths;
we blithely doll it up...

But this monstrous thing’s a picture

of a severed heart divine--
of a paradise forsaken
by a lost and loved mankind.
Christ prayed, ‘My will, My Father,
is for mine to be with Me--
all the lost and found believers
I shall hang for on that tree.’

What if Jesus was not weeping

that His dear Lazarus was gone?
What if He truly was grieving
that His friend was now at home,
and must now be called back earthward,
must abandon heaven’s bliss,
only then to die a second time...
What a paradox is this!

We are told a second death

awaits beyond the grave:
a separation...fiery wrath
from which none can ever save.
And yet, an endless paradise
awaits our souls as well,
where tears of grief give way to joy--
more joy than tongue can tell!

So many feelings filled His breast

that day when Jesus wept;
that heart is full of passion still--
promises made...and kept:
‘I go to prepare a place for you
to come and be with Me.’
So...death is but a doorway for
the blind who finally see.

When our loves are interrupted

by this fearsome, fatal foe,
we are wise to recall Jesus:
separated here below
from eternal praise and worship
to endure abuse and scorn.
On the cross He was forsaken
as the temple veil was torn...

But, alive again, ascended,

our victory is now won,
and the Father’s flock shall gather--
joined by His belovéd Son.


MNA
1/23/14
in honor of Ed Withrow and Dennis Hoskins

Philosophy and Christian Truth -- Part 1

Ancient Greeks up to Socrates

In the Bible the person of faith is warned not to be led astray by the “wisdom of this world.” Yet, on the other hand, writers such as Paul make it plain that our Creator has made certain truths about His own existence and nature accessible to all men, even to those who choose to deny or suppress those truths.

The history of our civilization is fascinating partly because it contains a parade of brilliant thinkers whose ideas about the nature of creation have steered the course of our culture down through the centuries. With or without the availability of the Scriptures, men have sought to reason out systems of thought that best explain reality as they judged it to be. As Christians, it is helpful to have a basic familiarity with these various ideas, so that we might better understand the changes of culture that have faced the church throughout its history, as well as the background behind the secular thinking of our own era.

In the 6th century B.C. a Greek scientist named Thales (THAY-leez) correctly predicted a solar eclipse, establishing him as a first-rate thinker, engineer and mathematician. He was also engaged in the first recorded work in what could be called philosophy--not, as the word suggests, a mere “love of wisdom,” but the search for ultimate truth about the universe. A kind of scientific paradigm that would explain reality with the fewest possible anomalies or “loose ends.”

The first Greek philosophers concerned themselves with locating a substance that would give a kind of unity to all the particular things they saw around them. They looked at their world and saw a dizzying array of living and non-living things, and they wondered if there was an underlying “stuff” out of which all things were made--a substance that would explain the diversity of things.

Some of them, like Thales, believed the ultimate substance was a singular, physical material such as water. Others were convinced that there were several different materials that were equally ultimate, like earth, air, fire and water. Still others looked beyond the physical world,  believing the ultimate essence of things was a boundless energy that could not be seen or touched by our senses.

Later on, two intellectual giants came along who gave convincing arguments for seemingly contradictory theories. Parmenides claimed that all things that truly exist, must have a kind of permanent being that cannot undergo change. If something appears to undergo change, that change must be an illusion. To conceive of a being going through change, it must be what it is and at the same time be what it is not, which is absurd. To Parmenides, “Only that which IS...is.” Everything else, he insisted, is only an illusion.

“Nonsense!” said the other mental titan, Heraclitus. To him, the only permanent fact about our universe is that everything is undergoing change all the time! All of reality is like a flowing river. You can never step into the same river twice, because from the time your right foot is in the water to the moment your left one gets wet, the river has moved on and changed. Even while you are reading this sentence, the very cells of your body have changed and gotten another few seconds older. Nothing has absolute being, because everything is in the process of becoming.

Parmenides and Heraclitus were both so convincing, their hearers pretty much gave up the hunt for absolute answers for a while. If two such brilliant teachers couldn’t agree on a single theory about reality, what hope was there? Philosophy got “stuck in neutral” and began concentrating on things like rhetoric and political theory. Rather than arguing about ultimate truth, focus instead on using debate to persuade the most people to side with your way of thinking--your partisan position. Forget about discovering ideal truths; what matters is the nitty gritty of life in the here and now.

Fortunately, a man named Socrates appeared on the scene in ancient Athens. Born in 470 B.C., Socrates fought against the cynical sophistry of his time by insisting that there must be ultimate answers out there for things like justice and certainty of knowledge. He was convinced that, through a process of provocative questioning, discussion, and careful reasoning, truth, knowledge and, ultimately, wisdom, were attainable. He insisted that right reasoning could lead to virtue, that is, right living.

What can the Christian learn from the history of philosophy up to this point? Well, clearly, the pre-Socratic thinkers like Thales were engaged in a methodical examination of their natural world. They were not put off by the old superstitions that discouraged human thinkers from examining the scientific realm because evil spirits lurked in every rock and tree! They could tell by observation that there is a definite pattern of intelligent design and regularity to our universe, a pattern that may be discovered and followed and mapped out with the aid of reason. God has made mankind with the capacity of curiosity about his own nature as well as the order of things around him. It is a gift we ought to be thankful for and use to our advantage as we seek to communicate the gospel to others.

And what of Socrates? Many historians credit him with saving western civilization by standing up for the ideals of rational thought and scientific inquiry, without which the Greek culture may have devolved into barbarianism and chaos. Instead of weakening and collapsing, Greek civilization became a kind of protective cradle for the proclamation of the gospel of Christ in the first century A.D.

Lifted Eyes

When threats and perils dog my path ahead,
When enemies invade my tranquil glade,
I often think, amid those hours of dread,
About a shepherd-lad who, unafraid,
Takes up a sling to save his captive lamb
From beastly jaws, returns it to his flock,
Then sings of his own Shepherd--the I Am--
Who ever will be David's solid Rock.

I ponder his anointing by the seer,
Though eighth in line of Jesse's strapping sons;
His courage as the Philistine draws near,
Though every seasoned veteran turns and runs.
In exile, hounded by the wounded king
Who'd never watch his son ascend the throne,
The outlaw David even yet may sing
Of One who, like him, bears His cross alone.

Does David, like I, struggle to believe,
Even remember, pledges God has sworn,
After a lifetime waiting to receive?--
For only firm in faith can such be borne...
He calls upon the God whose help he needs:
The Maker of the heavens and the earth
Who needs no help, yet daily tends and feeds
A flock all but unmindful of His worth.

I lift my eyes, with David, to the hills
And wonder what new form my help may take...
But David's greater Son my tempest stills.
He's ruling over all things for my sake.

Stretching into a New Year

As the year has reached its close and snow blankets our landscapes, we are all prone to take some moments for peaceful reflection. My company ceases production to perform its annual inventory, and I believe each one of us should pause from the holiday frenzy and do the same.

One of the wise old Greeks told us that the unexamined life is not worth living, and he makes a lot of sense. Only a fool would insist, looking back on any given year, that all of his words, thoughts, actions and circumstances were completely to his liking. Not to mention morally ideal.

But the fact that I'm prone to sins, weaknesses, mistakes and failures need not paralyze or discourage me as I look forward to a new year. As a human being, and as a Christian, the impulse toward self-assessment and self-improvement is built into my natural and spiritual makeup. I look beyond myself and survey this world's vistas, filled with both wonderful delights and dreadful sorrows; I experience both the wonder and the fear as I take stock of how I've either enriched or impoverished my own little slice of reality, as well as creation at large.

It bothers me that so much of my time, energy, money and attention has been focused on myself.

My own recently published novel looms large in this arena of self-absorption. While I sincerely believe my book contains material that could prove beneficial to my readers, I have to admit that the attention I've sought to draw to the book wasn't purely for the edification of others. Far from it.  I'm enough of an egotist to enjoy...revel in...sometimes wallow in the positive feedback I've gotten (even the meager "compliment" that I hear so frequently: "Wow, it's really big!").

And this is only one of my many weaknesses that haunt me with regret as I survey 2013.

I suppose my world has a tendency to shrink inward, like pizza dough when one seeks to stretch it out to fit a large pan. A small, selfish world is easy to manage, and a larger world that includes God and His creation (with all kinds of people) features risks, pains and inconveniences along with the beauty and the wonder. And I wonder: Do I truly care about "making a difference"? And, if I do care, am I truly convinced that what I'm able to do really matters?

My pastor once used that pizza dough analogy to describe our view of God--it, too, tends to shrink. I tend to forget just how big and in control the Almighty is.

Hasn't God assured us in His word that the prayers of a righteous man accomplish much? When Christ's righteousness is reflected in my life, I have His promise that my prayers can move mountains.

Lord, please forgive my selfish shrinking...make me willing to look outward, to you and to your world of possibilities...make me willing to have you stretch my world, and my faith, in 2014. Amen.