Commit Yourself to No Great Endeavor...

...That is not worth washing dishes for.

I think this reflection requires very little explanation.

So I'll save us all the time.

Not All Philistines Are Philistines

The Philistines have not fared well, historically speaking. The name which once applied to a people group now is a pejorative term for someone who lacks culture and/or is guided by more base impulses.

Back in biblical times the Philistines were mortal enemies of the Israelites. A Philistine was someone you met in pitched battle. The giant Goliath was a Philistine.

So whether the word is used today or is taken out of the ancient scriptures, it's not a nice word.

It's our natural inclination as humans, I think, to avoid nuanced views on peoples and perspectives. Nowhere is this seen more starkly than in Washington, D.C., where our nation's leaders fight for supremacy, and where partisan politics now runs absolutely rampant. Democrats? Republicans? Much of the nation now despises either one group or the other.

And I am inclined to despise both. I don't trust either group, to be quite frank. I don't trust their motives and I don't trust their purposes. I, too, have become rather polarized in my political views.

Which is why I found it a good reminder to discover that not all Philistines are Philistines.

I had read the passages before, but for the first time it sank in during recent readings of 1 Samuel that among the Philistines there was a successful warlord of, to say the least, strange lineage.

Philistine warlords were the ultimate enemy of Israel, but the little Israelite boy named David... the one who killed the Philistine Goliath... the one who wrote numerous Psalms... the one who went on to be the greatest king of ancient Israel... That David, for a little while, had a very successful gig going.

As a Philistine.

For a time, David lived among the Philistines and (to all appearances) was a much-valued Philistine warlord. The Philistines themselves came within one hairbreadth of taking David along to the battle against the Israelites in which King Saul himself was killed.

How David pulled it all off is partly unknown and partly explained in the text of 1 Samuel. But for my purposes here I note only that he was quite successful in his ruse. So successful that I have to wonder how many Israelites might have thought he had truly turned his back on the Israelite people. Impossible to know.

But anyone who might have come to that conclusion would have been dead wrong. They would have been quite right, however, if they had drawn the conclusion (to use modern parlance) that he was an extremely effective power broker, mover and shaker, and negotiator.

All the skills you need in Washington? David had them. In spades. By no other means does one live among mortal enemies and leave most of them convinced that your true allegiance is to them.

But David was God's man. An upright individual. And his future was so bright, that Jesus Christ himself was and is known as the "Son of David".

So.

Before I toss the whole of D.C. down the drain.

Before I turn my back on all politicians.

Before I abandon all hope in the political process.

Before I assume I know the base motives of every scrabbling politician.

I need to remember one thing.

There are likely some Davids in Washington, D.C.

And maybe some Davids in a few other places and organizations I have given up for useless.

And since I'm not good at picking out Davids from a crowd of Philistines, I need to be careful of my words and judgments.

Not all Philistines, after all, are Philistines.

Worth More Than A Minute?

I've been grieved in my spirit over the past few years as I have watched my children grow older. One lacks spiritual vibrancy. Another seems to lack any life of the Spirit whatsoever. Sorrow pierces my soul in this matter.

That said, I found myself the recipient of both great comfort and great conviction in the 2nd chapter of "Hudson Taylor's Spiritual Secret" which I began to read recently.

Comfort came in the reminder that Hudson's spiritual life began at the age of seventeen. It's not clear what kind of child he was prior to that age, but apparently not one evidencing the life of Christ within. Hope! My children are many years younger than that. Perhaps they too will turn soon.

And how exciting and riveting to read of his his sister's entry that month in her prayer journal: she would pray daily for his salvation until it came. That very month it came!

But the real barn-buster came with his mother's role in the matter.

Many miles away, the mother was specially burdened that Saturday afternoon about her only son. Leaving her friends she went alone to plead with God for his salvation. Hour after hour passed while that mother was still upon her knees, until her heart flooded with a joyful assurance that her prayers were heard and answered.

The account of what happened that very afternoon in the heart of young Hudson, miles away from his mother and her desperate pleas before the throne of God, is enough to bring tears to the eyes of all but the hardest of hearts.

I found that passage, needless to say, greatly encouraging. I can have a role in my child's salvation! I cannot force it to happen, but God wants me to pray more about it! What an encouraging thought for a desperate man. I'm not quite so helpless in this matter as I have felt in recent months.

I left the book there to attend to some parental duties, but immediately the conviction began. And set in deep.

When have I ever prayed about anything for more than an hour? Ever? I'm not sure I have. Oh yes, I've reminded God of my concerns throughout the day on various serious matters. But uninterrupted prayer? I think the answer is.... never.

To be honest, I think most of my prayers for any one topic are, quite literally, not longer than a few seconds. Maybe a minute. It's a crushing thing to admit, but the time-span element and attention quality of my prayer life are, as they say, emblematic of the MTV generation.

Ironically, I decided to pen this blog as a challenge to myself to do just this for my children at least once a month. Are my children not worth an hour of solid prayer, once a month?

Ironically, I say, because it usually takes me an hour to get my thoughts down to my satisfaction. So I've now spent more time on this blog, today, than I have ever spent praying for a single child in one sitting. And I knew that would be true before I began to type.

So this blog had better earn its living fast, reminding me for years to come of a commitment I hope to keep for the rest of my life.

But even as I wrap this blog up, more conviction has come. Having just typed in the text myself, I'm now reminded that Hudson's mother excused herself from the presence of friends on that day she prayed several hours straight for the life of her son.

I have never left any fellowship of friends in order to spend time in prayer. I've declined engagements from time to time, I suppose. But I've never, so to speak, "left the party" so as to pray.

Oh, God! For a heart to know when this is the prescription you have made for my soul. How desperate my deafness, to never have heard this call. Give life to my ears, my Lord. They cannot hear.

Give life to my children, my Lord. They cannot hear either.

Power Yet Again

Yes, I'm hung up on power. This is maybe my fourth blog focusing on this word, and my third in a week or so.

I blame my father-in-law for this posting, at least in part. The Book of Common Prayer (BCP) does not escape my pointing finger either.

The BCP first...

Acts 1:8
"...But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

The BCP has Acts 1:8 as an Easter reading in its Morning Prayer liturgy, so I recite it often at this time of year. And of course there is that word Power all over again.

I may not have said this explicitly yet, but one reason I gravitate toward this word nowadays is driven by personal history. Between the age of maybe 20 and 40 (roughly) I kept waiting to see God do "exciting stuff" and wanting to be "in on it too"...

...and found myself disappointed on both counts.

Now it must be said that I was disappointed not because God had failed to deliver, but because I was watching for the wrong results. I'm picturing an alchemist busy trying to figure out how to turn lead into gold who doesn't notice that in one of his experiments diamonds are popping out of ordinary water.

I was watching for gold, so to speak. God was producing diamonds. God has always been doing exciting stuff. But do I have eyes to see it?

And as for me being "in on it too", well, it's hard to be in on the game if you're playing the wrong game. For two decades I thought we were in the business of creating gold. I wasn't much help to a God busily creating diamonds. I feel like I've worn out this analogy, but in any case the point is made.

All that to say... Call me slow, but I get there. God's not defeated. But I am. I must not be playing the same game. Or not the same rules. Or something...

So over recent years (as part of the BCP Easter-time liturgy) I find myself repeatedly reading Acts 1:8. And wondering at the word power that I find there. What does it mean for the power of God to be residing in me? Well (no shock) it seems rather clear in this verse that I'm empowered... to be a witness.

A witness.

Witnesses are called in court not to make things happen. They are called to bear testimony. So that's an odd conjunction. The power of God comes upon us, and we... bear testimony. Go figure.

Enter my father-in-law, who shared a wonderful insight with me a few days ago. He pointed out the simple fact (how could I have missed it?) that Samaria was not exactly Disneyland.

Duh.

Going to Samaria. Jews almost universally despised Samaria. To the Jewish mindset, Samaritans were scum of the earth. To whom can I compare this ancient people that without insulting the living? Let's go with a leper colony. "...and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and in a leper colony, and to the ends of the earth.”

For me, that simple substitution does wonders for the modern eye. It makes it obvious that the power promised was not a ticket to Disneyland. For those hoping to make gold, these words are not encouraging. But God is not making gold. He's making diamonds.

But let's leave diamonds behind and get to the point. If the power of God takes us to leper colonies, what exactly is God doing? What is God's power accomplishing through us?

I think it's all about enabling us (per my prior postings) to have superhuman patience and endurance. Patience and endurance are not required survival traits for victors lolling about eating bon-bons.

But patience and endurance may be the most important weapons you carry into a leper colony.

The problem God faces seems not to have changed over the past few thousand years. His people (even those who claim to know him well) seem never to grasp a simple fact: He's giving us power not to vanquish pathetic foes so much as he is equipping us to survive mortifying conditions.

For twenty years of adulthood I kept wanting to jump on some victory bandwagon. And for twenty years I never heard God's gentle voice... calling me to a death march.

Why do I say that this problem hasn't changed in a few thousand years? Well, for starters there is Acts 1:6.

Acts 1:6
Then they gathered around him and asked him, “Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?”

Acts 1:8 is the answer Jesus gives to his precious disciples. They weren't looking for a leper colony either. They were excited to see Jesus "kick some ass", to be quite frank. The disciples were pointedly asking Jesus if he was finally going to lead Israel to military victory over the cursed Romans. Note the hint of impatience in their words. "We've waited three years now, Jesus. Now are you going to lead us to victory?"

Jesus crushed their plans with no less finality than God has crushed a few of mine. In modern parlance, the exchange between him and the disciples went like this:

Disciples: So Jesus, are we finally going to Disneyland?
Jesus: Wait here for the money you'll need for your trip to...
[the disciples draw in a collective breath of eager anticipation...]
Jesus (continuing): ...India. Where you'll care for lepers.

I swapped money in for the word power because money is what talks in Disneyland. Power is, so to speak, what talks to the Romans.

The disciples were talking power, and Jesus responded to them on their own terms. Power is what they wanted, and power is what he promised to deliver... but for a purpose diametrically opposed to everything they had in mind.

Well I think I've probably taken a thousand words to get out a hundred-word idea. So I'll end with this second set of verses which I think underscore how universally the broader church has failed to grasp the simple plan of God. Failed out of the starting blocks, as seen in the very first verses of Acts.

And a few years later?

The same story.

Never mind the fact that (Jesus' instructions notwithstanding) the disciples didn't bother to leave Jerusalem in any real numbers until...

Acts 8:1
On that day a great persecution broke out against the church in Jerusalem, and all except the apostles were scattered throughout Judea and Samaria.

God has a way of getting his way. Another thousand words could easily be spent just comparing Acts 1:8 to Acts 8:1.

But I digress.

So. Persecutions begin... time passes... The church has spread beyond Jerusalem. Beyond Judea. Beyond Samaria. There is now a church in Corinth, a Greek city...

And the Apostle Paul is dealing with what?

The exact same problem Jesus faced....

1 Corinthians 4:8-13
Already you have all you want! Already you have become rich! You have begun to reign—and that without us! How I wish that you really had begun to reign so that we also might reign with you! For it seems to me that God has put us apostles on display at the end of the procession, like those condemned to die in the arena. We have been made a spectacle to the whole universe, to angels as well as to human beings. We are fools for Christ, but you are so wise in Christ! We are weak, but you are strong! You are honored, we are dishonored! To this very hour we go hungry and thirsty, we are in rags, we are brutally treated, we are homeless. We work hard with our own hands. When we are cursed, we bless; when we are persecuted, we endure it; when we are slandered, we answer kindly. We have become the scum of the earth, the garbage of the world—right up to this moment.

There is a short translation for the above paragraph. In modern parlance it goes like this...

1 Corinthians 4:8-13
You guys went to Disneyland. We're living out our last days in a leper colony!

Paul didn't envy the Mickey Mouse ears. He'd bought into Jesus' plan. His frustration was not with the fact that he wasn't in Disneyland. His frustration lay with a church under his care that refused to leave Disneyland.

Has anything changed in 2,000 years?

Not really.

The American church, broadly speaking, refuses to leave Disneyland. And, frankly, most of the time... I'm not itching to leave either.

But I'm trying to listen.

And I'm not worried, either.

God has a way of getting his way.