I love you, Lord, my joy, not for all you give but who you are-- and yet your gifts drench me in kindness. Each one speaks the soundless words of a true lover delighting in the search for ways to slip his message to me. Joy wraps my moments, weaves into my days.
Lights: candle flickers, lamp glow, liquid moonlight, firefly stars, sunbeams shafting into gold, fires in my husband's eyes
Music: my child's new song, mesmerizing balophones, rippling jazz, endless possibilities of tones and rhythms, harmonies
Laughter: slapdash wordplays, comic kittens, shared delight, incredible good news spilling over into shouts
Shouts of joy, indeed, the psalmist said, would be our true response to wonder. We mostly miss our cues, I know. The days grind on, our senses thickly cushioned against pain but also joy, for fear that it will prove capricious, all too transient, seducing suckers into silly passion. The world stays dressed in gray this safer way.
But I am sight-starved for Reality. Wash the windows clean, Lord! Laser the lenses of my soul until I see truly all the love notes left for me in hidden places and right under my nose.
May I hope in you, not in the sense of "maybe" but "I know," and freely gather joy until, heaping, these extravagant provisions overflow and bathe the hurts around me with healing balm.
And so, Lord, may the inevitable gray be streaked with light in radiant jewel colors, swirled with melodies and pulsing rhythms, and always punctuated by clear laughter turning gladly into shouts of joy!
Do you sometimes wake up to a new day but find joy elusive? That happens to me. Sometimes I know what is heavy on my heart. Other times it is just a kind of overwhelming fatigue. Whatever it is, how can I obey this command:
Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! (Phil. 4:4 NIV)
A few days ago I realized that I needed to shift my focus from my worries to my Lord and his blessings. Finding this poem that I wrote 23 years ago reminded me of how that practice changed things for me during a very tough time. I needed to shift my thinking to what he had given me to enjoy, to notice his creative handiwork and the loving essence of his character.
So today I began that same process while on my morning walk. What did I see? Green grass. Flowering bushes. Sunlight gilding the artistically crafted gray clouds covering it until it found a crack to break through. Young squirrels chasing each other up a tree. A pheasant calling from a rooftop. Dark violet irises blossoming in my yard and down the street.
And indoors, a hot shower and my favorite breakfast of homemade granola, nuts, fruit and yogurt. Glenn busy at work on the first-floor extension, preparing to put in the insulation. My computer working well, waiting for me to come work on Nyarafolo Bible translation with my coworker over there in Ferkessédougou, the Internet making it possible. Digging into Isaiah’s rich poetry with him.
When I count my blessings like this, joy rises. The joy of the Lord is always available; he has given us his Spirit who gives joy even when times are hard:, when we listen to his message, first the Good News of rescue, then also the blessings of knowing him:
You became imitators of us and of the Lord, for you welcomed the message in the midst of severe suffering with the joy given by the Holy Spirit. (1 Thess. 1:6 NIV)
Even Jesus was filled with joy by the Holy Spirit during his ministry when he took note of how God was at work:
At that time Jesus, full of joy through the Holy Spirit, said, "I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and learned, and revealed them to little children. Yes, Father, for this is what you were pleased to do. (Lk. 10:21 NIV)
So let’s remember to wake up to his Presence, his goodness, his creativity, and find joy. I am constantly challenged by the many times in the Word it is mentioned that there are “shouts of joy.” Most of us don’t do that in our culture—some of us are learning! Why should we shout out our joy?
The first reason that comes to mind is the focus of Psalm 65 on praise to the God who answers prayer, who fills his people with the good things of his house—this is the joy of connecting with him in worship. Then he also details wonders in creation like the mountains, dawn and sunset, rain, produce for food, water in streams and the glory of grasslands. Even the meadows “shout for joy” and sing (v.13). So shouldn’t we?
And there is that hidden treasure in Psalm 23:
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. (Ps. 23:5 NIV)
My cup overflows with his blessings! Included in those blessings is his provision of joy. We just need to be open to it and let the Spirit pour it in. When it overflows, that joy can bless others too. You can notice the gilded clouds of sunrise and share the wonder with a friend. You delight in the abundance of fruit from your tree and share it with a neighbor. You find out your hibiscus bush is blooming and shout out in wonder. You see the cross-stitched cross your daughter made for you, now a precious encouragement by your desk, and feel gratitude. Joy! Even if it is not “shouted” vocally, your heart can leap and express the message.
And when the news headlines make your spirits drop, these reminders can lift them up:
Shout joyfully to the LORD, all the earth; Break forth and sing for joy and sing praises. Sing praises to the LORD with the lyre, with the lyre and the sound of melody. With trumpets and the sound of the horn shout joyfully before the King, the LORD. Let the sea roar and all it contains, the world and those who dwell in it. Let the rivers clap their hands, let the mountains sing together for joy before the LORD, for He is coming to judge the earth; He will judge the world with righteousness And the peoples with equity. (Ps. 98:4-9 NAU)
This also reminds me of songs that have strengthened me on my journey, like this one by Richard Blanchard:
Like the woman at the well, I was seeking for things that could not satisfy. And then I heard my Savior speaking— “Draw from my well that never shall run dry!” Fill my cup, Lord, I lift it up Lord; Come and quench this thirsting of my soul. Bread of Heaven, feed me till I want no more. Fill my cup, fill it up and make me whole.
Living water, Spirit-inspired joy: this leads to shouts of joy in my heart and sometimes out loud, an overflow that can bless others!
You hold my hand, Lord, always: King of this whole world, you lead me, making my right hand your chosen tool so that each act becomes a holy service in your master plan.
You hold my hand, you love me: Lover of my soul, you treasure me and nurture every gifting given and make each weakness a new way to intervene with strength.
You hold my hand, you hold me: Father-love that cares for me that clears the rubbish from the path that grasps me tight when gale-force winds would sweep me off my feet.
You hold my hand, you fill me: Spirit-love that fills me up and squeezes out the selfishness so that instead your love and joy reach out with grace to spread your peace.
Have you ever been in such a tough spot that you were in despair? Were you ever totally discouraged by corruption and violence that was hurting people you cared about? Maybe it wasn’t even that serious, but you were caught between some choices and needed clear guidance about what you should do.
I felt that way when war broke out in Côte d’Ivoire back in 2002, and during the long years following that when rebels held control of the northern region where we lived. They were desperate to maintain power, and there was no rule of law. On the other hand, the government in the south had not been meeting the needs of those in the north for years. The people around us were in a desperate state.
On the other hand, we were seeing our Lord work in us and in his people, challenging us to keep on reaching out in love to each other and to the oppressed around us. I know I could not have managed that hard path unless my Master had given me confidence in his constant Presence, along with guidance every day. That is when it became truly meaningful to me that “he holds me by my right hand:”
Yet I still belong to you; you hold my right hand.24 You guide me with your counsel, leading me to a glorious destiny. 25 Whom have I in heaven but you? I desire you more than anything on earth. 26 My health may fail, and my spirit may grow weak, but God remains the strength of my heart; he is mine forever. (Psalm 73:23-26 NLT)
I was translating the Pentateuch with my Nyarafolo coworker; when we finished those we moved on to the Psalms. All through those parts of the Old Testament the “right hand” kept coming up, which struck me with new meaning because in the Nyarafolo culture they completely understood its importance. For them, like the Israelites, the right hand is the “good” hand, the one you use for action and for courtesty; the left hand is your dirty hand, used for wiping your nose and other body parts. You only eat with your right hand, the clean hand, not your left hand. This was a challenge for my husband Glenn, who is left-handed, but he learned to comply!
So looking at the occurrences of “right hand” in the Scriptures, I was learning that this was the hand of blessing (Gen. 48:13-18). When it is God’s “right hand,” it is also his hand of power and action (Ex. 15:12,20; Deut. 33:2). Then came the Psalms! These verses are particularly comforting and meaningful to me:
I constantly trust in the LORD; because he is at my right hand, I will not be upended. (Ps. 16:8 NET)
You give me your protective shield; your right hand supports me; your willingness to help enables me to prevail. (Ps. 18:35 NET)
My soul pursues you; your right hand upholds me. (Ps. 63:8 NET)
. . .because he stands at the right hand of the needy, to deliver him from those who threaten his life. (Ps. 109:31 NET)
The LORD is your protector; the LORD is the shade at your right hand. (Ps. 121:5 NET)
Even when I must walk in the midst of danger, you revive me. You oppose my angry enemies, and your right hand delivers me. (Ps. 138:7 NET)
If I were to fly away on the wings of the dawn, and settle down on the other side of the sea, 10 even there your hand would guide me, your right hand would grab hold of me. (Ps. 139:9-10 NET)
And then there is this verse in Psalm 73, that inspired the poem above:
But I am continually with you; you hold my right hand. (Ps. 73:23 NET)
I began contemplating what difference it means, that he constantly holds my right hand. That is my hand of action, the one I can use to bless others, meeting needs or giving encouragement. It is the hand symbolizing right action that corresponds with his commands. Of course if I do not follow my Master’s directions, I could use it to hurt others, to do what is wrong. But if I let him hold my right hand and I pay attention to the way he moves it, that will not happen.
I remember the days my dad used to walk with me, holding my hand and keeping me from stumbling, showing me the beauty of nature or cities wherever we were. I remember holding my kids’ hands, keeping them safe so that they would not run out into a street or stumble. That is what God does for us when we are securely attached to him, and therefore we let his love fill us and give us guidance and strength.
That is what Paul was reminding his “son” Timothy about when he wrote to him, urging him to hold tightly to his faith and to courageously share the Good News with others:
For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline. (2 Tim. 1:7 NIV)
When we remain attached to God, letting his Spirit fill us and direct us, we then have the power and strength that we need to accomplish whatever he wants us to do. It may be learning a brand new skill, like installing electricity (as in the photo above). It may be passing on what we’ve learned to others through words or by example. And Paul underlines that the Spirit fills us with his love, love that “reaches out with grace” to spread his peace to others. When we are filled with that divine brand of love it does not stay cooped up inside us. It promotes action and overflows for the benefit of others. We are no longer timid, but can push away fear or pride, exercising self-discipline to follow his directions and do just what he wants! The self-discipline part often means that we resolve to follow his lead, not just our own desires.
Thinking back through the truths brought out in the Psalms the imagery of the right hand, when we let God’s right hand take the lead, he keeps us from being upended, he empowers us to “prevail” when faced with challenges beyond our normal strength to deal with. When situations heat up, he is our “shade,” our protection, our safe place. Because he loves his own people, he actually grabs hold of us, wherever we are.
In Psalm 73, the psalmist admits that he was so overwhelmed by the evil around him that he forgot that God was his protection. It wasn’t until he spent time with the Lord that he remembered the truth:
“. . .at the time he was deeply troubled by the prosperity of the wicked and the struggles of the innocent. But a turnaround came when he entered the sanctuary. The sanctuary of God could refer to the tabernacle or the temple, where God made his holy presence known among his people. In other words, the psalmist’s experience of the presence of God recalibrated his perspective. He now realized that present realities are not ultimate realities.”[1]
So then the psalmist wrote:
21Yes, my spirit was bitter, and my insides felt sharp pain. 22 I was ignorant and lacked insight; I was as senseless as an animal before you. 23 But I am continually with you; you hold my right hand. 24 You guide me by your wise advice, and then you will lead me to a position of honor. 25 Whom do I have in heaven but you? I desire no one but you on earth. 26 My flesh and my heart may grow weak, but God always protects my heart and gives me stability. (Ps. 73:21-26 NET)
We each need to remember: he is always with us. He holds us! He directs our actions! He fills us with strength and with his love so that we can fulfill his purposes!
[1] Tremper Longman III, Psalms: An Introduction and Commentary, ed. David G. Firth, vol. 15–16, Tyndale Old Testament Commentaries (Nottingham, England: Inter-Varsity Press, 2014), 276.
Yearning to be filled, filled up to capacity to the full measure of God's own fullness— possible? --to be filled like the ocean, deep, with its waters reaching always heavenward, splashing to the shore— possible? --to be filled like the skies, air and clouds all rising higher with the glory of the sunlight reflecting everywhere— possible? It's more than what I pictured, thinking of a cup filled up to the brim. For he fills everything— so is it possible for me to be filled to the full measure of God, the Creator, Maintainer, the King of Everything, him filling it all, totally? I'm yearning. Fill me! (cf. Ephesians 1.23)
When I woke up this morning and sat in my quiet space, looking east out the window of our “skyhouse” (repurposed attic), I was stunned by the colors in the predawn sky. Instantly I thought of the verse that captured my attention last week and has become a theme:
Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days (Ps. 90:14 NIV)
In Nyarafolo the translation says: “fill us up in the morning with your unending love. . .” The Hebrew word rendered “satisfy” or “fill us” in English translations actually means to “be satiated, have had enough.”[1]
In Psalm 90, Moses begins with meditation on how brief life is, like grass that springs up green then withers by evening—the heat has taken its life. He then thinks about all the sufferings he and his people have been through, and how time is passing. “How long will this last?” he begs Yahweh. And then he asks for the one thing that can refresh them, God’s compassionate love:
[Satiate] us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days (Ps. 90:14 NIV)
We cannot know how many days we will have on the earth, but as time passes we can either wither in soul as well as body, or be so nourished by Yahweh’s endless love that we are “full,” needing no other food in our souls.
Once again I think of the imagery of the Vine and its branches, and what it means to be fully attached to the main trunk of the Vine: our Lord and Savior. It makes me grin to think about being one of those “sappy” branches, constantly drenched with sap from the trunk. But that is exactly the nourishment I need for daily strength to run to the finish line, and the love I need in order to be fruitful. This brings the whole picture back to what it means to be “filled with the Spirit.” Jesus promised us that through his Spirit living in those who love him, he and his Father would come to them and make their home in them—live there! (John 14:23). He will teach us what we need to know, and give us peace (John 14:26,27). Next he went on to the imagery of our need to be attached to him: the Vine and branches.
Then comes an explicit application: if we stay attached to him, doing what he says, then we actually live in his love—as though it is our home. That is what the word “remain” means in this English translation of the Greek word μένω (meno): to stay (in a given place, state, relation or expectancy):—abide, continue, dwell, endure, be present, remain, stand.[2]
If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commands and remain in his love. 11 I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. 12 My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. (Jn. 15:10 NIV)
There is a prerequisite here: to constantly live in Jesus’ love, firmly attached with no breaking off, we have to do what he says! And his first command is to love the others in our community. We all know how hard that is. Some are easy to love; others require a kind of love we don’t normally have available. They may just annoy us; they may be truly opposed to us. How can we do what Jesus says, then, and love them?
The answer is to be filled with his love! Then we can live it out, letting it overflow to others. Like the lovely colors of sunrise that promise light that will soon be filling our world, like my teapot filled with my favorite hot drink that I can also share with someone near me (filling their cup too!), being filled with God’s love is our source of strength to do what he says and pass it on.
This is what Paul wrote to his beloved Timothy:
For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline. (2 Tim. 1:7 NIV)
That is how we can do what he has commanded us to do: he gives us the power and self-discipline, as well as the love.
Back to Psalm 90: First of all, we have God as our dwelling place, just as his chosen people did:
Lord, you have been our dwelling place throughout all generations. (Ps. 90:1 NIV)
This is permanent, ongoing. We live in him—firmly attached. When he fills us with his love in the morning (present moment) of our lives, it goes on all our days:
Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days. (Ps. 90:14 NIV)
His love fills us and lasts into the evening of our lives—“all our days.” Not only that, it gives us joy and gladness!
I count the blessings of remaining firmly attached to this God who is love, and I am filled with gratitude. The incredible truth is that the God who made the universe, filled the oceans with water and the sky with light and space with so much that discovery is ongoing forever, this same God loves you and me and wants to live in us! He gives us his Spirit, who supplies all that we need (he fills us up) to actually do what he says and to love doing it!
Now this hymn is humming in my heart:
Verse 1
There is joy in serving Jesus
As I journey on my way
Joy that fills my heart with praises
Every hour and every day
Chorus
There is joy, joy
Joy in serving Jesus
Joy that throbs within my heart
Every moment every hour
As I draw upon His power
There is Joy, joy
Joy that never shall depart
(Oswald J. Smith)
[1]Holladay, Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the OT, in BibleWorks, שָׂבַע
What do people think they see when they take a look at me? A pious, clean exterior or a holy, pure interior?
Am I set aside for God or content to merely plod along at my own pace, even stumbling in the race
to confirm my own high call? No! I’ve given him my all! Attached to him, I grow more like this Lord I know!
His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. (2 Pet. 1:3 NIV)
I had never realized the treasure of teaching that Peter put in his letters until I was faced with the challenge of translating them into Nyarafolo. As often happened in that work, it was hard to find easy equivalents for some of the vocabulary. Here, it was “godly” that stumped us for a bit. What does that word mean, anyway? I realized that I had always pictured “godly” to refer to someone pious, perhaps an older person who was a devoted church attendee, known as a strong Christian, who always dressed appropriately and did not indulge in bad habits.
It turns out that this is a common American English understanding of the term! Here is the definition given in Collins Dictionary: “A godly person is someone who is deeply religious and shows obedience to the rules of their religion. Synonyms: devout, religious, holy, righteous.”[1] And “godliness” is “a word which has sadly disappeared from the vocabulary of many Christians.”[2]
The common understanding does not adequately match the meanings of the Hebrew and Greek words that are usually translated as “godly” in our Bible versions. So there are translations that are trying other solutions, for example:
Love the LORD, all you faithful followers44 of his! The LORD protects those who have integrity, but he pays back in full the one who acts arrogantly. (Psalm 31.23 NET)
Here is the translation note for “faithful followers” in the New English Translation (“godly” or “saints” in other versions):44 tn A “faithful follower” חָסִיד), khasid( is one who does what is right in God’s eyes and remains faithful to God.
Yes, a faithful follower is someone who stays committed to Jesus. That does apply! In the New Testament, the word translated “godly” (εὐσεβής ) is explained this way in the Gingrich Greek New Testament Lexicon: devout, godly, pious, reverent. These words round out the meaning, but they did not help us find an equivalent in Nyarafolo!
Then, when we got to 2 Peter 2:9, we ran across another way to express it. In the Bible en Français Courant, there is a rendition that made sense in Nyarafolo and also to my seeking heart! If you know French, you will understand how they did it:
Ainsi, le Seigneur sait comment délivrer de l’épreuve ceux qui lui sont attachés, (2 Pet. 2:9 BFC)
. . . then the Lord knows how to rescue the godly from their trials, (2 Pet. 2:9 NET)
The “godly” are those “attached to the Lord”! It made so much sense to us! Think of what Jesus said:
“I am the vine; you are the branches. The one who remainsin me – and I in him – bearsmuch fruit, because apart from me you can accomplishnothing. (Jn. 15:5 NET)
When a branch is actually living in (remaining or abiding in) the vine, it must stay firmly attached to the trunk. Otherwise it sags, breaks off, withers and dies.
So if I am attached to Jesus, I am fed by him (like sap to a branch) and am able to become increasingly like him! Peter really digs into this as he continues his introduction. He himself had experienced huge transformation in his faith-walk, changing from a fearful denier to a truly faithful follower and emissary of his Lord. In the following Scripture passage I have substituted “to live firmly attached to him” in place of “for godliness”:
To those who through the righteousness of our God and Savior Jesus Christ have received a faith as precious as ours: 2 Grace and peace be yours in abundance through the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord. 3 His divine power has given us everything we need [to live firmly attached to him] through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. 4 Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through [these promises]you may participate in the divine nature, having escaped the corruption in the world caused by evil desires. (2 Pet. 1:1b-4 NIV)
What could that mean, to “participate in the divine nature”? The NIV Study Bible has a good explanation: “Share God’s holy character, especially qualities that help Christians resist sin.”[3]
He has promised to listen to his faithful ones, to protect them, and in the Old Testament he also tells them not to sin by being unfaithful to their spouse or by straying off the right path:
But know that the LORD has set apart the godly for himself; the LORD hears when I call to him. (Ps. 4:3 ESV)
Therefore let everyone who is godly offer prayer to you at a time when you may be found; surely in the rush of great waters, they shall not reach him. (Ps. 32:6 ESV)
Did he not make them one, with a portion of the Spirit in their union?And what was the one Godseeking?Godly offspring. So guard yourselvesin your spirit, and let none of you be faithless to the wife of your youth. (Mal. 2:15 ESV)
You shall be careful therefore to do as the LORD your God has commanded you. You shall not turn aside to the right hand or to the left. (Deut. 5:32 ESV)
When I contemplate what it means to stay firmly attached to Jesus, I realize that I am dependent on his nourishment, like sap flowing from the vine’s trunk into the branches which then can produce fruit. And it is clear from Peter’s words that this growth comes from knowing him, repeated three times in 2 Peter 1:2,3, and 5. This does not mean just knowing about him, but truly becoming intimate with him—firmly attached, living in him. Then we get what is needed to become like him. We develop the qualities increasingly, joining in the process by “making every effort” to focus our maturing process on what matters to him:
5 For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge;6 and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; 7 and to godliness, mutual affection; and to mutual affection, love. 8 For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.9 But whoever does not have them is nearsighted and blind, forgetting that they have been cleansed from their past sins. (2 Pet. 1:5-9 NIV)
So becoming “godly” is not just a matter of appearance and outwardly devout church attendance or legalistic rule-keeping. It is knowing Jesus, walking with him constantly, making every effort to know what matters to him and then to pursue that. It is like the process of getting to know a spouse: you learn who they are, day in and day out, what truly touches them, what they care about, and you build unity in purpose. Without that a marriage gets weak and dissipates.
Think about the sequence of characteristics that matter to our Lord Jesus, starting with goodness and knowing him, moving through perseverance to that secure attachment (“godliness”), and ending with those two kinds of love. Wouldn’t the community of brothers and sisters in Christ be truly delightful if we each would determine to put our all into this transformation? It is up to each and every branch to be firmly attached, producing fruit through that relationship with the source of strength, the trunk!
In this slippery tilting world your heart is one sure thing. You love me always, whether I am striding in the right direction or fallen in a patch of thorns, listening raptly to your voice or indulging my addictions, desperately trying to feel good.
Unfailing love: hesed, the Hebrews said. This is what we long for all our lives, and this is Who you are!
We cannot shatter, disillusion, wear away your tenderness. You are true love with no beginning and no ending, always potent, always steady, always ready to receive the bullheaded son or daughter who returns to you, and finds at last where the source of meaning is.
Your heartbeat never falters, never skips a beat, won’t race or turn erratic. You are love, and I can crawl into your lap or batter you with angry fists or crucify you, tearing at your heart. I've done it all, and more, unfaithful to the core.
Yet you keep right on loving, though I know you’re disappointed with this inner instability and all the hurt it means for me; though you would be sad if I would turn away from all that's good and choose instead what turns to rot and spreads infection through my soul.
The perfect Parent, you forgive your child when I run to you for pardon, acknowledging my fault. And finally I am ready to accept your loving smile when I succeed, your loving hand-up when I fail, your totally consistent love. I cannot make you love me more.
Your love just IS, and I will dive into the wonder of it all and live inside unfailing love.
During my last year in seminary my husband and I took out a loan to buy tickets and joined the group of students traveling to Israel to fulfill a course requirement. I learned a lot as we visited sites where key biblical events took place long ago.
One afternoon we were sitting at an outdoor table when a craftsman came around to see who might want to order a silver ring with a name or name abbreviation carved into it, whatever you might choose. He was speaking English, obviously used to working with tourists. When he came to me I told him that yes, I would order a ring. On it, would he please carve this: חֶסֶד !
“Hesed!” he exclaimed. “How do you know that word?”
“Well, we are seminary students,” I answered. “We study Hebrew!”
He was startled but obviously delighted. And so was I. That ring is still on my hand, 19 years later. It is a constant reminder of a precious truth that comforts me.
When our Hebrew professor had introduced that word hesed to us, I had been stunned. It was the word used for God’s love, a word so full of meaning in Hebrew that no one word by itself in English could match it. Suddenly many biblical texts had new meaning for me.
Of course the context of a word matters. Think about this: do you love coffee? Do you love going to concerts? Do you love your spouse? Do you love that best friend who is your safe place? Do you love the difficult neighbor next door?
That key Hebrew word hesed can have a slightly different connotation depending on the context, too. But even in the same context our great English translations have chosen different ways to communicate its meaning. Compare these:
ESV Psalm 36:7 How precious is your steadfast love, O God! The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings.
NAS Psalm 36:7 How precious is Thy lovingkindness, O God! And the children of men take refuge in the shadow of Thy wings.
NET Psalm 36:7 How preciousis your loyal love, O God! The human race finds shelter under your wings.
NIV Psalm 36:7 How priceless is your unfailing love, O God! People take refuge in the shadow of your wings.
NJB Psalm 36:7 how precious, God, is your faithful love. So the children of Adam take refuge in the shadow of your wings.
We struggled to find a way to translate this into Nyarafolo! The one that worked best was bànguɔ dɛnigɛ, “love without end”. The word for love, dɛnigɛ, had been created by new Nyarafolo believers, adding a noun suffix to the verb that means “to please or delight, to like”. This concept of a love that never ends, never changes when its object does wrong—is always ready to forgive when repentance is there—was astonishing to them. And working through this made it deeply astounding to me.
I realized that I had not grappled with the depth and breadth of God’s love. Just referencing the various translations noted above, it is steadfast, lovingly kind, loyal, unfailing and faithful. When you look up hesed in the Holladay lexicon, this is a summary of what you get as a definition: a) obligation to the community—loyalty, faithfulness, b) kindness, grace. The word “love” does not even appear! Others add these qualities to their definition: goodness, mercies, fidelity, lovingkindness.
You can see the challenge that it is for us to try to understand and express the incredible goodness and multiple facets of God’s love. Human love (between husband and wife, family members, friends) is expressed by a different word, even when it refers to loving God—there, it is אהב (ahab/ahav) which can mean: like, love, feel affection for (depending on the context). It is the one that tells us, humans, to love God:
You must love the LORD your God and do what he requires . . . (NET Deuteronomy 11:1a)
As the ISBE Bible Dictionary says of these terms for love:
“Love, whether used of God or man, is an earnest and anxious desire for and an active and beneficent interest in the well-being of the one loved. Different degrees and manifestations of this affection are recognized in the Scriptures according to the circumstances and relations of life.”
Now let’s think about the boundless mercy and grace that is included in hesed, the love that God has for us humans. Why should we trust it? Because it is the reason why he pays attention to us, earnestly desiring our well-being—even to the point of becoming human to rescue us by paying the penalty for our wrong-doing. And his love is trustworthy, with no end or beginning, completely good, and loyal to those who belong him to him.
So how are we to “love” God? As I said in the poem above, one way is to respond to him by living inside his love. We open ourselves up to all that he wants to pour into us. We do what he wants us to do, as Deuteronomy 11:1 and many other verses remind us. Living that way shows that we appreciate his goodness and love, that we trust his infinite wisdom. It shows that we care about him and his plans for us. We do not want to disappoint him.
It’s like when, as children, we looked up to someone who truly showed love for us and then did what we could to make them know that they were appreciated. My dad was delighted in my avid reading when I was only seven, and gave me a notebook; I was supposed to make a list in it of every book I read. I knew that I was missing putting quite a few into the notebook, just racing to the next story I could find. The list didn’t matter much to me personally, but I wanted to make him happy. So when we evacuated from Congo a year later, sneaking out of our area at night, and I was only allowed to take a small backpack stuffed with a change of clothing and one precious object I wouldn’t want to lose, I chose that notebook! Why? Because I loved Dad and wanted him to know it, to be pleased. When we love Abba God, we obey him like that—not just to escape punishment but to delight him.
God’s unending lovingkindness, his firm concern shown in loving attention, this is a treasure beyond words. So we show it by our commitment to him and our respect for his wishes that we love him in return. We live in a way so attached to him that it impacts everything we do and say. And we rest inside that constant goodness, like a child that crawls onto his parent’s lap, knowing he is welcome there—in fact, invited to be close to them always. That is what it means to belong to our Heavenly Father and live inside his love.
So turn to him now, thank him for his hesed, and rest in the best peace ever!
I live in darkness, a world that snuffs out lamps and candles wherever it can. But your Light dawns on those who wait, who keep looking up not down. And then
you reveal your plans in the network of sky and clouds, tree limbs reaching and touching, your soft light glowing on water as well as on busy streets and through my windows.
I am commissioned to share that light while my life melts away like a candle, still bright, glowing in its designated sphere, right here— loving you, Yahweh, and those around me.
I was setting the table for Easter dinner, trying to put together a centerpiece that would speak a theme vibrating in my heart: sharing the Light. I love candles, so of course I grabbed some. But this time they were unique, two candles in glass mugs made for me by my daughter years ago, saved for some special occasion. I added other candles in holders that had been revamped. And to evoke what Easter is about, I added a cross-stitched cross (empty, of course) that she had also made—it had accompanied me at my desk in Ferkessédougou where I worked in Bible translation. The cross and candles were set on a cutting board engraved with a heart. The messages were merging in my heart: Jesus died for us all because he loves us, and he is the Light of the world who shines in the darkness. Unaccepted by many, he still became the revered Rescuer of millions of humans, and he expects them to be lights in their dark world too. That includes me. I need to be sharing that light!
Do you dread the turmoil already beginning to boil around us as this year moves forward? Are you still dealing with hurts that have come from people you thought were your brothers and sisters? Are you able to shine like pure light?
Becoming a light that neither flickers nor burns your neighbor is a process of growing in intimacy with Jesus, with the Trinity, and allowing God to refine you so that you can fulfill his purpose for you. This is what Paul wrote to believers in Philippi:
. . . for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure. 14 Do all things without grumbling or disputing, 15 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, (Phil. 2:13-15 ESV)
We just witnessed the solar eclipse, and here in Detroit we were in the path that observed 99.2% totality. When the moon gradually came between earth and the sun there was growing darkness all around, then potent darkness at the moment of full eclipse. But as the moon moved on and the crescent of the sun began to increase in size, the power of sunlight began changing everything around us. It lit up the Detroit River (we were sitting on rocks on its shoreline) as well as the sky. Just a tiny sliver of more sun made a huge difference!
We noticed that because of its effect on the darkness. Which makes me wonder: how can I shine as light that shines in the darkness?
Those verses in Philippians make a strong point: “do all things without grumbling or disputing” so “that you may be” pure, like God wants—then “you shine as lights in the world!” The following verses amplify the positive ways that we should be acting when it is God’s Spirit that is accomplishing the Lord’s purposes through us:
But the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23 gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against these things! (Gal. 5:22 NLT)
When we have allowed the Spirit to produce this fruit in us, we can then do all things without grumbling or arguing. Gentleness, self-control, peace, patience, kindness—these all moderate our behavior. The point is not that we should never speak out against injustice; no, that is necessary. We are not to be passive, retreating from all interaction in the world. The point is that we should speak and act in a way that reflects the true Light, with loving self-control for instance! Then we “shine as lights in the world.”
A little artifact that I added to the centerpiece was a tree with multi-colored stones as its fruit. This reminds me of the different ways our actions can have impact for good. Our light in this world will be temporary, since our lives here on earth will not go on forever. But it can have effects we don’t even know about. I just read a story about how the kindness of a little boy to another kid who had been bullied prevented him from committing suicide. I know of a case where sharing life with a loving Christian family convinced a university student that relationship with Jesus was possible, something she then wanted to choose. The fruit has all kinds of colors!
And last of all, there is a little clay pot sitting by the candles on the board. What is inside it? I have always related to the imagery of believers being like clay pots being formed by the Potter, each one useful in the way chosen for it. The pot may look empty. But if a person is filled with the Spirit, who cannot be seen, they can be empowered to fulfill the purpose they were made for.
I just finished reading The Challenge of Jesus: Rediscovering Who Jesus Was and Is,” by N.T. Wright. Many sections impacted me powerfully. I love key notes in his summary near the end of the book:
“The way of Christian witness is neither the way of quietist withdrawal, nor the way of Herodian compromise, nor the way of angry militant zeal. It is the way of being in Christ, in the Spirit, at the place where the world is in pain, so that the healing love of God may be brought to bear at that point.”[1]
Yes, we are each in a place where “the world is in pain.” We may be groaning. What to do?
“The Christian vocation is to be in prayer, in the Spirit, at the place where the world is in pain, and as we embrace that vocation, we discover it to be the way of following Christ, shaped according to his messianic vocation to the cross, with arms outstretched, holding on simultaneously to the pain of the world and to the love of God.”[2]
When we live like that, in communication with and submission to the Spirit, we can grow in our ability to shine Light in the very spot where we have been placed, impacting the darkness. I am a candle in my “designated sphere, right here—loving you, Yahweh, and those around me.”
[1][1][1] Wright, N.T. The Challenge of Jesus: Rediscovering Who Jesus Was and Is. (Downers Grove, Illinois: InterVarsity Press, 1999), 189.
Hope rises in your Presence
like the misty vapors
gently swirling off lake waters
as dawn glows golden in the east.
It is the warm light streaming
from the essence of You
that deletes the hopelessness
of darkness, and reminds us that
a new day is coming,
one overseen by your loving care
and faithfulness.
I wrote this poem at Piatt Lake in the Upper Peninsula, exulting in the soft cloud of mist rising before me. I sat in darkness, in the shade of pines. There was no wind, but the white essence of slow movement upward was fascinating.
Today I was walking in the city of Detroit, the streets quiet before the rush of daytime. The sky was covered with thick clouds—except on the eastern horizon, where gold as rich as pure butter was shining through a crack.
Both of these scenes are pictures of hope, confident hope. The glimmer of dawn signals that soon the sun will be shining brightly. The warm air over lake water hits the colder air left by night and condenses. The steam hovers there, waiting for full sunlight to appear and warm the world. In the city, you know that even though there is complete cloud cover, the sun will indeed move higher than that gold lining and light up the streets.
The sun is not yet visible, but we know it will rise. That is a confident expectation, and to me it defines the kind of hope that we Jesus-followers have. It is not a “maybe-it-will-happen” or “I hope so.” It is recognition of truth that has not yet been fully revealed to our sight (like the sun behind clouds).
At Easter I was impacted by how many times contemplation of the resurrection led to discussion of what is next in the line-up: Jesus’ Second Coming and the New World. I see this springing from the “living hope” in this verse:
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, (1 Peter 1:3 NIV)
Because the Father loves us, he has caused us to be born into a new life, a life that does not stay stagnant but that keeps on growing. The reason that we have access to this life is the fact that Jesus is alive. Yes, he was nailed to a tree and he died there in agony. He was buried in a tomb. But death could not hold him! He is alive forever, and he brings us into that same new kind of life when we accept his merciful offer of access to it. We do not yet experience the full reality; our bodies are temporary. Death comes. But our person, our essence, is made new spiritually. And although we are not yet fully “resurrected” like Jesus, it is coming! As surely as the sun rises, that New Day will come and all the darkness around us will be gone.
Yes, this world is dark. I have been to funerals lately and keep hearing of other ones. You read today’s headlines and there are always too many that refer to war, murder, famine, tyranny, epidemics, destruction. If you do not know that there is a perfect world coming, a place where true goodness rules and evil is completely eradicated, then there is only temporary hope in some political figure’s promises or some new invention. None of it is sure.
In the verse above, when Peter says that this hope is “living” what does he mean? For one thing, it does not shrivel up and die. Once planted, it keeps getting stronger. As Wayne Grudem says: ”it grows and increases in strength year by year. If such a growing hope is the expected result of being born again, then perhaps the degree to which believers have an intense, confident expectation of the life to come is one useful measure of progress toward spiritual maturity.[1]”
How can my hope keep growing? What Peter said in his second letter gives the answer:
17 Therefore, dear friends, since you have been forewarned, be on your guard so that you may not be carried away by the error of the lawless and fall from your secure position. 18 But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To him be glory both now and forever! Amen. (2 Peter 3:17-18 NIV)
It is easy to get distracted by voices in the darkness around us. It is easy to get led in the wrong direction when they do not follow our Father’s principles. It is easy to fix our heart’s gaze on the temporary world around us and put all our efforts into success or pleasure according to its standards.
But if we keep our heart tuned in to what our Master says and get to know him better and better through increasing intimacy with him, he continues to graciously work in us to produce greater spiritual maturity. He has promised us that he lives in us through his Spirit, who counsels and encourages us. We do need to listen. We do need to keep our inner person focused on Jesus, just like so many others have done before us. It is deeply encouraging to read biographies of Jesus’ servants who went through tough times and yet stood firm and made impact on the community where they lived and on us. When we study certain characters in the Bible we can be encouraged this same way. We can even see their imperfections and failures, but also God’s grace in forgiving them and helping them move ahead. The writer to the Hebrews makes it clear that this can help us to push forward in our lives towards that joy that is waiting for us. This is our living hope, that gets stronger as we run—as long as we are feasting on the nourishment of God’s Word and the Living Water that gives us the energy we need to reach our goal!
Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. (Heb. 12:1 NIV)
The sun rises. The Son rose. Someday we will live surrounded by his pure, lasting light!
And this is comfort: that when the children cry the Man of Sorrows suffers too. Eternity encircled and enclosed the crossbar of his suffering with the pain of ages, all our griefs and every ruination choking out the Breath of Life.
Heart broken under awful weight of every horror, crime and burden, he was crushed. His throbbing lifeblood spurted down a tree he sculpted, soaked into the soil he made, soil filled again with loathing at the brother’s blood poured down its gullet.
And so the curse was nullified, the gaping break repaired, innocence and love the capital that freed us. He knows our tears from inside out; he cried them all. And now he holds the hurting world in his embrace and waits for us to hug him back.
Have you seen “The Passion of the Christ”? That film details the suffering of Jesus in a way that chokes me up. Hearing that “he died on a cross” is easier to take lightly; seeing the agony that those crucified endured is nauseating. It was intensely cruel.
Jesus knew what was going to happen to him—he even tried to prepare his disciples (Matthew 16:21). He knew that his body would be broken, torn like a loaf of bread. He knew he would bleed to death. The Passover Feast that featured a sacrificial lamb was given new meaning as he added these metaphors concerning his role as that sacrifice. His disciples did not understand it at the time. But he did.
Yet he entered Jerusalem willingly, humbly, knowing that the crowd welcoming him would be replaced by crowds booing him. He was being lauded as the one come to save them from colonial rule, their hero and rescuer. They didn’t know that he had in mind a much deeper purpose: saving them and everyone from the rule of sin and death. They thought the main enemy was Rome, and it’s true that Rome did not accept this champion’s challenge to their goals. The true Enemy thought he was going to erase this supposed savior, using Rome’s desire to maintain their power as his weapon, not understanding that he himself was fulfilling God’s purpose by making sure that the Lamb was killed.
Jesus understood. Nevertheless he moved forward. After feasting with his disciples and trying to prepare them, he downloaded his grief and foreboding to the Father in the Garden of Gethsemane. He knew that what awaited him was going to be even worse than physical suffering; he was going to take on himself the blame for all the sins of the world. I think about the violence we see even now, the killing sprees done by nations and by individuals, the oppression of those with no hope or resources, the wounds made by verbal vitriol. And those are only now. He would bear the weight of those future horrors and also all the ones of the past centuries.
Yet he gave himself up, the Messiah whose power came not from resistance or attack but from passively allowing the opposition to insult him, whip him, and nail him to a cross. He was the Word that breathed creation into existence. He was Life. But he had willingly taken on human form in order to take my place, your place, and break the Curse, conquering death and the plans of the Enemy. (For more background on his suffering, see Isaiah 53.)
The title “man of sorrows” paints a picture of that other side of the crucifixion. He suffered incredible physical pain, yes, but the worst part was the weight of our sin. But he obeyed, he did what had to be done. He seemed weak to those tormenting him. His passivity seems beyond belief to those who don’t understand the beauty of his purpose. It was actually not feeble “giving in.” Instead, it was inner strength; he was moving forward to do what needed to be done out of love for the world. So to those who have opened themselves up to receive God’s gift of cleansing love, it is powerful!
For the message about the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God. (1 Cor. 1:18 NET)
And that power not only opened up the Most Holy Place to us so that we have freedom to approach the King of the universe, it also works in us to empower us to be like him. What? Be like him? I cannot picture myself walking willingly toward suffering the way that he did. I have been through wars; I did not accept the possibility of attack with any kind of peace. Interpersonal conflict is scary enough for me—I dread being misunderstood or being insulted. Jesus knew his self-sacrifice would include all of that: the Almighty would be treated like scum.
So how is it possible that I am supposed to “take up my cross and follow him”? Jesus warned his disciples even before he went to Jerusalem to be crucified that this kind of self-denial would be essential for anyone who wanted to join his cohort!
Then Jesus said to his disciples, “If anyone wants to become my follower, he must deny himself, take up his cross,and follow me. (Matt. 16:24 NET)
Here is the context to that warning:
20 Then he instructed his disciples not to tell anyone that he was the Christ. 21 From that time on Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer many things at the hands of the elders, chief priests, and experts in the law,and be killed, and on the third day be raised. 22 So Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him:29 “God forbid, Lord! This must not happen to you!” 23 But he turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me, because you are not setting your mind on God’s interests, but on man’s.” 24 Then Jesus said to his disciples, “If anyone wants to become my follower, he must deny himself, take up his cross,and follow me. 25 For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it. (Matt. 16:20-25 NET)
This happened, of course, before he entered Jerusalem and went toward the agony of Friday. He had his heart and mind set on God’s purpose: rescue for every person who would accept his outstretched hand of love.
Losing my life for Jesus’ sake means to let go of control of my plans and let him be the Master. I need to set my mind “on God’s interests.” That is the only way to be a true follower, a disciple on the Way that leads to unending life and perfect peace. The Way is full of challenges, even suffering. But the goal is worth it all. And along the Way there is this amazing privilege of companionship with the one who pulled me out of the dung heap of meaninglessness.
When I was in college I attended Urbana ’70, the InterVarsity conference that cemented this for me. I realized that I was afraid to trust God to direct my life path. I could say he was “good” but I didn’t trust his goals for me to be what I wanted. Then I released my clinging grip and said, “What you want, may it happen!” And I began to learn what it meant to “lose” my life (my own priorities) and rest in God’s wisdom and purpose. I began to learn because it has been a lifelong journey, one I have increasingly realized means to live life resting in his loving arms, letting him choose the path ahead as he directs each step.
Jesus prayed conderning that self-denial in the Garden, knowing the suffering that was ahead of him. He said, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup away from me. Yet not my will but yours be done.” (Lk. 22:42 NET)
Not my will, but yours! That is what it means to follow Jesus. It means letting go of my sensitive fears and letting the Good Shepherd direct my path. There are so many ways to illustrate it! That is what the apostle Paul learned, too. Let’s take Paul’s words to heart, let our Lord embrace us—and hug him back!
More than that, I now regard all things as liabilities compared to the far greater value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things – indeed, I regard them as dung!– that I may gain Christ, and be found in him, not because I have my own righteousness derived from the law, but because I have the righteousness that comes by way of Christ’s faithfulness– a righteousness from God that is in fact based on Christ’sfaithfulness.
My aim is to know him,to experience the power of his resurrection, to share in his sufferings,and to be like him in his death, 11 and so, somehow,to attain to the resurrection from the dead. 12 Not that I have already attained this – that is, I have not already been perfected – but I strive to lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus also laid hold of me.(Phil. 3:8-12 NET)
“I have not already been perfected”! Amen! What is essential is pursuing what Christ has in mind. I need to put my energy into it—that is what is called “devotion.” It is becoming mature in my faith, learning obedience to the One who suffered to give me unending life, a secure hope. If he himself “learned obedience” through what he suffered, then I know that what comes my way is teaching me that as well. He has an excellent purpose! And he understands my struggle, because he struggled too:
During his earthly life Christ offered both requests and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to the one who was able to save him from death and he was heard because of his devotion. 8 Although he was a son, he learned obedience through the things he suffered. 9 And by being perfected in this way, he became the source of eternal salvation to all who obey him, 10 and he was designated by God as high priest in the order of Melchizedek.11 On this topic we have much to sayand it is difficult to explain, since you have become sluggish in hearing. (Heb. 5:7-11 NET)
And so we must each pray: “Dissolve my sluggishness! Make me like you, Christ, willing to take up my cross and accomplish what my Master wants: his will not mine!”
Like a child running in trust to his father, settling into his loving embrace, we can then show our love by embracing him and his priorities in return. After all:
We love because he loved us first. (1 Jn. 4:19 NET)
If I truly crave you the way I feel hunger pangs on a day of fasting, not forgetting to seek you like I do when I am “fed”, satisfied with earthly food,
if I really listen for you, and let those pangs alert me to pause, to hear what you say, hungering for your words, the bread we undervalue, and let you satisfy my soul,
then I need to respond, to turn and put in action the words that you speak. What you want me to do is to help others, be merciful– it matters more than sacrifice.
And then, you say, I will be like sunrise breaking through dark clouds: bright light! I will be the very water thirsty souls are looking for, an orchard full of fruit!
Meaningful celebrations are getting closer every day: Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem (then his betrayal by the people), his gift of love when he became the sacrifice that saves us, then his resurrection—the grave could not hold him! During these days leading up to those crucial memorial holidays, we are in “Lent,” a season of preparation for them. It has morphed from an exclusively Catholic observance to one that is meaningful to many Protestants as well. The practice that most often comes to mind is fasting during the forty days leading up to Easter. It is self-denial—which could be traditional fasting from food during certain hours or days, or even from social media or some other “addiction” or habit in order to focus more time reflecting on all that Jesus gave up for us. That can be very worthwhile when it is accompanied by digging into the Word and time in prayer. But, as my Master told me when I wrote that poem above, “then I need to respond, to put in action the words” that he speaks.
There is nothing wrong with fasting—Jesus himself fasted for forty days and nights in the wilderness before launching his ministry. It also prepared him to go through intense temptation (Matthew 4). The widowed prophetess Anna fasted and prayed day and night (Luke 2:36-37). Early church leaders fasted so that they could listen more clearly to the Lord’s leading in decision-making (Acts 13:2; 14.23).
The danger is that it can become yet another religious rite. And just giving up something for a few days certainly does not earn us points with God—there is no way we can increase our standing with him just by changing a habit for a short while. It depends on how it is done and for what purpose.
Jesus made it clear that one must never do it to show off (Matthew 6:16-18); only if fasting is done solely in the presence of God will it ever be rewarded. And the reward seems to be mainly spiritual growth, and renewed sensitivity to our Lord’s voice as certain distractions are removed. The yearning for whatever it is that we give up can become an incitement to focus more on him. I tell myself: May each hunger pang turn my heart toward Yahweh, to listen and to converse! This produces the reward’s healthy spiritual fruit that can nourish others.
There is a powerful passage concerning this in Isaiah 58:1-11. Moïse and I were just working through translation of these verses into Nyarafolo last month, and I had to digest it once again. In the context, God is explaining to his people why they have deserved the punishment he has inflicted on them. They wanted him to answer their prayers, to give them a smooth road. success (Isaiah 57:1-18). But their hearts were divided: They also wanted to commit sexual sin, to worship false gods. Many of us could shrug that off as irrelevant to us (depending on how one interprets other ways of adoring physical satisfaction or a seemingly powerful person).
But then Yahweh becomes explicit about another thing that made him truly angry: sinful greed (v.17). Each one was going on “in the way of his own heart.* (Isaiah 57:17 ESV) They wanted to manipulate God to give them what they needed or wanted, but reserved the right to make their own choices, do their own thing.
For day after day they seek me out; they seem eager to know my ways, as if they were a nation that does what is right and has not forsaken the commands of its God. They ask me for just decisions and seem eager for God to come near them. ‘Why have we fasted,’ they say, ‘and you have not seen it? Why have we humbled ourselves, and you have not noticed?'” (Isa. 58:2-3a NIV)
Sound familiar? A person like this could be a faithful church attender, or even one who regularly listens to sermons online. It could be an American who only cares about certain issues that are biblically based, while others are discarded as irrelevant. Let’s consider the principles that Yahweh underlines:
Yet on the day of your fasting, you do as you please and exploit all your workers. Your fasting ends in quarreling and strife, and in striking each other with wicked fists. You cannot fast as you do today and expect your voice to be heard on high. Is this the kind of fast I have chosen, only a day for people to humble themselves? (Isaiah 58:3b-5a NIV)
They were not caring appropriately for those they supervised. And in their own fellowship group they were quarreling, lashing out at each other. In this political season it is all too easy to fall into this latter trap.
So then Yahweh explains that practicing self-denial as a way to get God to act as they please is useless. He goes into detail about the kind of self-giving that matters. It demonstrates an undivided heart, one totally in submission to the Master’s values:
Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:
to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke,
to set the oppressed free and break every yoke?
Is it not to share your food with the hungry
and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter-
when you see the naked, to clothe them,
and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?
Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness1 will go before you, and the glory of the LORD will be your rear guard. Then you will call, and the LORD will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.
“If you do away with the yoke of oppression,
with the pointing finger and malicious talk,
and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry
and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday. The LORD will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail. (Isaiah 58:6-11 NIV)
I propose that in the days of Lent that remain, we consider how we can actually do what Yahweh, the Almighty Sovereign of the Universe, our Father and Master, says we must do—if we really want him to guide us and provide for us, making us shining lights and refreshing sources of food and water for those around us!
My Congo! Oh, to be out in your cold morning air, To feel the chill bite of your wind, To see the red sun peeking over your pines Hear hummingbirds humming a hymn!
I long to be there when the sun spreads her warmth To the black, rich dirt at my feet, To walk between violets, and pansies, and moss, To hear a young lamb’s hungry bleat.
I long to climb into the sheltering cave Of a giant, loose-hanging vine, To pick a “matunda” and taste its sour tang-- Oh, I wish you were once more mine!
When the sun says good night at the close of the day, Turning pink your blue mountains of snow, I’ll wait for your stars and your moon to come out, And watch for your sky’s midnight glow.
The beauty of Congo – there’s nothing can match Your mountains, your jungles, your plains. Who can blame me, my Congo, if the one thing I want Is to see you, be with you, again!
When I drafted this blog I was sitting in a home in Belgium, but Congo was all around me. We were visiting Philip (with me in the photo above), someone who had meant a lot to me when I lived there where my parents served as missionaries until we were evacuated in 1961. I felt like I was going back to Congo as memories and a key relationship were renewed.
When I was yearning for my first childhood homeland and wrote that poem, I was just 13 and it was the landscapes that I focused on. War had forced us to change countries, and although Côte d’Ivoire was beginning to work its way into my heart, I was longing for the beauty of my Congo nature playground. My new “home” was so dry and flat, such a contrast. It took some years of digging, of letting my feet run in the dust, to uncover new treasures. Later I began to realize that what I missed even more about Congo was my friends.
It was much harder as a child to find African playmates in Côte d’Ivoire where we moved in 1961. The hospital compound was outside the town and children were not encouraged to come our way. In Congo we not only had many comrades from the village right next door, but there was also the close relationship with Philip, our big “brother.” He was sent to our family during the vacations from his boarding school from 1957-59, when I was 5-7 years old. Our mission had started the school for mixed-race kids, called “métisse” there in Belgian Congo. They were denigrated by both whites and blacks in that culture and usually ended up abandoned, like orphans. We found it a delight to welcome Philip. He was eight years older than I was, so already a teen, but had a gentle fun way with us kids.
When independence came to Congo in 1960 unrest was rising all around, especially in the eastern region where we lived. My dad and his brother, Dwight and John Slater, had taken our families out of Katwa, Congo, to spend some of the summer in Kampala, Uganda, for safety; they had stayed behind to continue their medical work. The missionaries working with the métisses had evacuated those kids to Kampala as well, given the dangers heating up. They were given the choice of going to America or Belgium. Philip and his younger brother chose Belgium, and off they flew. It was the beginning of many long-distance separations.
I didn’t see Philip again until December of 1978, when Glenn and I were studying French before heading to Côte d’Ivoire as missionaries ourselves. We left Albertville, France, to travel to Brussels, Belgium, to meet up with Philip. It was refreshing for me, and the immersion in French really helped Glenn’s language facility take off.
Then life took over for us all. Philip was now a high school math teacher, and a couple of years later he married a widow who was also from Congo, Léontine. Family became a wonderful, major focus for each of us. We were focused on our new ministries: the hospital in Ferkessédougou, Nyarafolo learning and linguistic endeavors, church development in “our” village, Tiepogovogo, and our children. Philip and his wife ended up with five children.
After a while we lost touch with Philip. Mom and Dad Slater visited him, but the last time he saw them was when they were retired and returning from a visit to Uganda—Mom was hospitalized in Brussels with severe malaria. Then their retirement life in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, followed by the challenges of old age, quieted their communication with him as well.
Glenn and I retired in 2019, not ever having stopped by to see Philip all those years. I so wish that we had; I had lost all of his contact information. I was astonished and delighted when I suddenly got a WhatsApp message from him last August! He had been trying to contact Mom and Dad by their email address, not realizing they had already passed away in 2017. Then he got in touch with the daughter of other former Congo missionaries and she gave him my phone number, so he reached out to me on WhatsApp! When he urged us to stop by the next time we traveled the U.S./Côte d’Ivoire/U.S. route, it really hit home. “Home” in more ways than one! Here was my “big brother,” lost to me for so many years, longing to see me and get family news. So this time, we chose to spend a week in Belgium with him as we returned from our two months in Africa.
I was so glad we did that! We caught up on details I didn’t remember, since I had been so young back when he spent time with us in Congo. He says it was my mom who really made the Good News about Jesus clear to him, and who made sure that Pastor Berg was the contact he had in Belgium when he evacuated there. The Bergs took him in, as well as his brother, giving them the support they needed as they finished high school and took further training. Philip was baptized at his church. His brother is no longer alive, and neither are the Bergs. But Philip’s faith has stayed strong over all the years.
I have never been back to Congo, physically. But Philip and Léontine went back in 2000 for a visit. Some of their children have also gone to visit, and even to work there for a time. Philip has become a connector for other métisses and Congolese immigrants in the Brussels area, so they are constantly receiving gifts from Congo from any who travel back to visit. Here in their house there is Congolese art all around, in addition to all the family photos. And Léontine keeps sharing delicious food treasures given to them—like smoked chicken!
They took us to the Matonge quarter in Brussels, a basically Congolese-style market area with so many stalls and shops with Congolese goods that, if it weren’t for the ancient European buildings, one could find themselves with feet back on the ground, back there. I felt it. And Léontine came alive. It was “home.”
So there we were, “family” reunited, sharing our Third Culture life stories. Probably most of you are familiar with the term “Third Culture Kid (TCK),” which describes especially a child who grows up in a culture different than his parents’ original culture and develops a personal mixture of those cultures. I am one of those, I was born to American parents and was periodically re-entering the U.S. but spent most of my growing-up years in Congo and then Côte d’Ivoire. Philip was born to a Belgian father and Congolese mother (that he didn’t know), raised by Americans in his boarding school and our Slater family home, then transferred to life in Belgium.
Having this kind of mixture can be challenging, because you don’t fit completely into any one of those cultures that have formed you. You are different. But it can be viewed as a rich treasure that brings unique understandings of different cultures, often with skills about living cross-culturally. And I see the same kind of Third Culture development in adults that adapt to different cultures that they integrate into this way—like in my husband Glenn.
It is very evident in Philip. There is constant African music playing in the dining room. When their toddler grandson comes over for the day, French/Lingala/Swahili children’s programs play on the tv. The phone rings, and the conversation might be French, might be Swahili. But the house is Belgian in furniture and equipment. The neighborhood stores are Belgian, so most food is as well. Philip had taught high school math there in public high schools until retirement.
I was not only delighted to be found by my brother again, but to be able to tie our bonds more firmly now that we are in the evening of our lives. It was amazing to discover how many ways we share the same values and worldviews!
A psalm that has spoken to me in a personal way concerning this kind of multi-cultural lifestyle is Psalm 139. Ever since a friend studied it with me while we were both at Wheaton Graduate School in 1977, I have resonated with its strong message that Yahweh is present no matter where his people are, in the far east (where the sun rises) or the far west (where it sets). For me, that was Africa and America.
5 You fence me in, behind and in front, you have laid your hand upon me. 6 Such amazing knowledge is beyond me, a height to which I cannot attain. 7 Where shall I go to escape your spirit? Where shall I flee from your presence? 8 If I scale the heavens you are there, if I lie flat in Sheol, there you are. 9 If I speed away on the wings of the dawn, if I dwell beyond the ocean, 10 even there your hand will be guiding me, your right hand holding me fast. (Psalm 139:5-10 NJB)
I can’t escape his accompanying presence, and that is great comfort for me. He will always guide me and hold me securely in his grip. He has done that for me in the 46 years since I last saw Philip, He has held Philip in the same way. And he made both of us, created us, with our life stories in mind. Philip, who had no close relationship with his original father or mother, learned to deal with that trauma by sharing life with other kids who had the same experience. He says that boarding school experience was healing for him, and it shows up now in the way that he reaches out to others to be sure that they feel familial love. God knew him and shaped him, bringing healing even after he had gone through so many wrenching losses.
13 You created my inmost self, knit me together in my mother’s womb. 14 For so many marvels I thank you; a wonder am I, and all your works are wonders. You knew me through and through, 15 my being held no secrets from you, when I was being formed in secret, textured in the depths of the earth. 16 Your eyes could see my embryo. In your book all my days were inscribed, every one that was fixed is there. 17 How hard for me to grasp your thoughts, how many, God, there are! 18 If I count them, they are more than the grains of sand; if I come to an end, I am still with you. (Psalm 139:13-18 NJB)
Yahweh has used Philip in Belgium to help other immigrants find their way forward, and to keep close connections to those in his expanding family (many who now live in several other countries!). He who had no relationship with his birth parents found acceptance in Mom and Dad Slater, and then the Bergs. Now he fervently lives out family love.
Yahweh formed me to live my life in Congo and Côte d’ivoire, preparing me to reach out to the Nyarafolo, and in retirement to live out his truth in Detroit. He also put that same extended family love in my heart through my parents’ open arms and open home.
Father Yahweh knows our days and what he has planned for us. And that is true whether we grow up in a strong, stable family or go through the kind of challenges that Philip faced all his life. Our part in the story is how we respond to his guidance, whether we trust him and his unending love! How can you trace his design?
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