Today is Memorial Day in the U.S.– a day when we honor those who have fallen in battle and given their lives for our country. It is also a day on which we often decorate the gravestones of ancestors and relatives who have passed on. There may seem to be little connection between soldiers of war and civilian great-grannies or uncles, but Memorial Day can stretch to both– especially to Christians. Here’s how I see it:
Soldiers who gave their lives never lived to see the fruits of their sacrifice. They died, never knowing if their sacrifice was in vain. Our ancestors, similarly, poured their efforts into rearing children and living lives of integrity, little knowing how their efforts would be carried on by the next generation. There is a risk in battle– whether a war-time conflict, or just daily survival–a risk that all our hard work and all the perils we face will end in failure. We memorialize those whose efforts did NOT fail. We honor those whose sacrifices made a difference in our lives and in the lives of others. They lived (and died) for a purpose– and we honor that purpose, as well as the individual lives.
All of us are fighting a battle– a spiritual battle– in which our very lives are on the line. Some of us will lose our lives, literally, through imprisonment, persecution, torture, or disastrous choices we make to surrender to the enemy. Others will lose our lives figuratively, giving up our time and our own dreams to a greater cause. We honor those who went before us in this fight. We honor the good examples and the fallen heroes.
Soldiers go where they are sent. They often die and are buried far from their homes, on the battlefield. They may or may not have graves with the rest of their families. Many in our family were immigrants and pioneers, moving far from “home” to start a new life. Some of them moved as the result of war coming to their ancestral home and pushing them to relocate.
Memorials– whether gravestones, statues, monuments, or stories passed down to the next generation– serve as reminders of our priorities– freedom, family, and Faith. God’s people throughout the years have raised memorials to commemorate God’s faithfulness, as well as the high cost of fighting against Sin and its effects.
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial
I pray that on this Memorial Day, we will take time to remember, and give thanks for those who have fought the “good fight” in the name of freedom, and in the name of Faith. But more than that, I pray that we will be inspired to carry on the fight– knowing the risks and weighing the costs–to preserve those things that are most important. Let’s pause to remember– and then let’s move Onward!
Bible teacher and author Chuck Swindoll is credited with saying, “I am convinced that life is 10 percent what happens to me and 90 percent of how I react to it. And so it is with you. We are in charge of our attitudes.” When I was younger, I liked this quote, but I quibbled with the numbers. Surely, we are in control of our reactions and attitudes. And our circumstances don’t determine our lives completely. But just 10%?! What about those whose circumstances are overwhelmingly tragic?
I thought of some of my father’s experiences, and it seemed as though what happened to him in four short years should have had a greater impact on his life. During the four short years that my father was in high school (1945-1948), his family experienced at least three tragedies. Dad grew up on a farm. His dad was a dairy farmer, as was his grandfather. Dad grew up expecting that he would, along with his father and brothers, spend the rest of his life as a farmer. But then, everything changed. First, Dad’s oldest brother was drafted into the Army at the very end of World War 2. Though my uncle was not in combat, he was badly wounded in Germany, as his unit was sent in to find unexploded bombs and land mines, and ordered to clear out rubble. Dad had lost one cousin in the war, and several others had come home wounded or changed, but my uncle’s situation was post-war, and unexpected. It meant more work for my grandfather and the two younger sons, even as they were still in school. It meant uncertainty, as they waited for word from thousands of miles away over several months.
Uncle Jack recovered and returned to the farm. But then, on Christmas Eve, there was a house fire. While the family escaped without major injuries, the house was a total loss. Furniture, clothes, pictures, heirlooms, farm records and financial papers– all gone. Dad moved in with his aunt and uncle to continue his education. But two weeks before graduation, his father died suddenly from complications from emergency gall bladder surgery. My father’s world had been turned upside-down in just a few short years and at a critical juncture in his life.
However, as I’ve matured and thought about it over the years, those events, among other tragedies and triumphs in Dad’s life, really DID only amount to a small percentage of his life. Even numerically/chronologically, those four years were less than ten percent of Dad’s time on earth. Dad couldn’t control the events of those years. He couldn’t have predicted them, and he couldn’t erase them or go back and undo them. But he chose how to respond and react to those events. He learned from them.
Circumstances in our lives, whether tragic or terrific, present us with choices. Will we turn to God, or away from Him? Will we become better, or bitter? Will we seek to assign blame, or seek solutions? My dad and his brothers were not able to continue the dairy farm their father had built up. Without the records and registration papers for the various cows, without their father’s experience and acumen, without money to upgrade their facilities and equipment, they had to sell most of what their father had built up. Uncle Jack kept the farm land, but he took a second job. Dad was drafted and sent to Korea for his own post-war odyssey, and came home to work at the local feed mill, and later in a factory job. He passed away several years ago, partly as a result of complications from gall bladder surgeries.
My dad’s life was impacted and shaped in part by tragic circumstances. But Pastor Swindoll is right– at least 90 percent of my dad’s LIFE was shaped by his attitude and character. My father was a man of faith and integrity. He cherished his family and his role as a father– partly because of the loss of his own dad; but also because of the lasting legacy his father had passed on. He spoke often of his wonderful memories growing up on the farm. He lost out on his dream of being a farmer. But he also made wonderful memories with the life he chose to pursue off the farm– picnics and vacations, family reunions, family devotions, watching baseball (live or on TV), sharing laughter and tears, and making sure we knew we were loved and protected. He ministered to people in the community, mowing lawns for widows, or visiting shut-ins. He taught us to love music, baseball, and animals. He taught us the value of prayer, reading the Bible, and living a life of faith. Dad could have been bitter. He could have chosen to wallow in self-pity or anger. He could have become obsessed with rebuilding the life he “lost” to circumstances. He could have decided that God had “robbed” him of the future he had expected to have. But he chose to believe that God had a plan for his life; one that was bigger than his boyhood dreams and bigger than his expectations. Dad didn’t rise to great wealth and power. In the world’s view, his life was not a great success. He never became rich or famous; he wasn’t powerful or important in politics or business. But the memories he treasured and the relationships he developed were far more than 10% of his life!
As I get older, and look back on the circumstances of my own past, I am encouraged and challenged to think that they represent only a small fraction of my life. I can’t control many of my circumstances– health setbacks, financial struggles, accidents and tragedies. But I can control my attitude and my response. I wanted to marry young and have children and raise a family. But that never happened. I married late, I was barren, and my step-children were already grown. I wanted to live in a big farmhouse; instead I live in a small apartment. But I would not go back and undo the circumstances that have shaped my life. I have marvelous step-children and grandchildren. I have had opportunities that were only possible because I was single for so long and because I was childless. I have a better appreciation for the family I have– including nieces and nephews and cousins– than I might have had if I had been wrapped up in my own smaller family. Dad taught me to trust God’s plans for my tomorrows. That’s what he did. And I choose to do the same– after all, God controls 100% of my future!
I keep a prayer journal. Every day, I have a list of people, places, and issues that prompts me to pray. Of course, I can pray about other things, as well. I can praise God for the day’s blessings, the weather (or provision in spite of the weather); I can confess failings and ask for God’s forgiveness. I can lift up things that are not on “today’s” list. But the list reminds me of so many things– the blessings of family and friends; the richness and vastness of God’s power and sovereignty; His faithfulness over so many years…
In my journal, I also keep a “running tab” of God’s many answers to prayers. Some of the answers bring joy; some bring wonder; some even bring tears. I have prayed for several people battling cancer. Many have gone into remission, but most have eventually died. I prayed for people during COVID. Many recovered– some slowly, some miraculously– but many others died. I have prayed for “little” things, like finding my keys (YES!), or making a sales goal at the store (NO). And some prayers have yet to be answered–I don’t know why or when, but I trust God has heard them all, and that His will and His answers will come– in His good time.
Often, I will look at the front side of the journal page (requests and reminders), and some of the requests are a year or more old. Then, I turn to the back side and look for the answer. Sometimes, in my haste, I have neglected to write the answer, so I will add it, with a small prayer of thanks. Sometimes, I have forgotten the exact outcome. Sometimes, I am encouraged to keep praying for a clear answer or outcome for an ongoing situation. But I am amazed at the number of prayers I have prayed over a year’s time, and how God has provided answers, big and small.
It is sometimes easy to forget the answered prayers amidst the worries of daily life. We are more concerned with the next crisis or the immediate needs before us. But it is helpful to record God’s answers (even the “NOs”) as we receive them. When we “count our blessings,” we can often stand amazed at some of the ways that God has “moved in mysterious ways” to answer things we once thought impossible, or overwhelming in the moment. Looking back, we can sometimes see how, and even why God has allowed us to go through experiences that seemed strange or unwelcome. And we can be reminded that the same God who answered all those prayers is listening to our current requests (and praises!).
God DOES answer prayer. He IS faithful. And when we keep a record of it, it increases our faith for the moments when we are still waiting on His answers!
In the Gospel of John, there is the curious story of Lazarus. Lazarus and his two sisters, Martha and Mary, were good friends of Jesus. There are other stories throughout the gospels of Jesus interacting with this family. But this story appears only in John’s gospel, and it contains some details that raise several questions.
The story begins with an urgent message. Lazarus is gravely ill, and the sisters send word to Jesus to come quickly. Yet Jesus seems to dismiss the message, saying that it is not a sickness that will end in death, and he lingers two days before he decides to begin the journey toward Bethany. There is no sense of panic or urgency in Jesus’s response. And, though it says he loved Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, he seems unmoved by their obvious distress.
When Jesus finally arrives, Lazarus has been dead for four days. The two sisters both mention, with some bitterness, that if Jesus had come sooner, their brother need not have died. Jesus never gets defensive, but he challenges the sisters about their faith. In his exchange with Martha, he says that her brother will rise again. She agrees that he will rise again in the resurrection at the end of time. But Jesus redirects her faith–“I am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth on me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die. Believest thou this?” (v. 25b-26). Her statement of faith, in spite or her grief and bitterness, prompts her to act. She goes to find her sister and bring her to the Savior, that she might be comforted.
Martha’s faith is small comfort in the circumstances. Her brother is still dead. His body lies rotting in a nearby cave. Her faith is fixed in the distant future, even as the author of Life and Eternity stands next to her. Her belief is wispy– more of a wish or a dream than the solid God-in Flesh standing before her.
Yet Jesus chose to use this seeming defeat as a showcase for His power to give life and resurrection. Many people who saw this were transformed and put their trust in Him. Others saw Jesus’ growing ministry as a threat to their own power and authority. They reacted with fear and even anger, that Jesus would bring the miraculous into their well-ordered normality. The Pharisees, including the chief priest, Caiaphas, determined that Jesus must die in order to “save” them from the Romans. Instead of seeing Him as the agent of their eternal salvation, they saw Him as an obstacle to their limited “freedom” to operate under the Roman oppression.
What is my faith like as I pray today? Do I believe that God “could’ve” or “should’ve” solved a problem in my past? Do I believe that God is not acting fast enough or decisively enough? Do I have a wispy faith that God will make all things right in Heaven, but is uninterested in the “here and now?” Do I believe that God’s answers might upset my life or cause me to “lose” control?
God, as you challenge my faith, help me to declare even my weak and imperfect belief; help me to act on it, and bring others to you for comfort. For in doing, so, I may be preparing the way for an incredible miracle– for revival and renewal; for the glory of Your great Name! And help me to see your answers through eyes of faith, and not fear of the unknown. Help me to trust you for the future I cannot see– a future that is in your capable and loving hands.
I love solving things–puzzles, mysteries, codes–I love finding the answer. It’s very satisfying. And I love reading mystery stories–Agatha Christie, Georges Simenon, Dorothy Sayers… But I have very mixed feelings about Sherlock Holmes. Always have had. I loved the intricacy of the mysteries themselves. They seemed impossible; unsolvable. Yet somehow, Holmes always knew the answer. And then, as he calmly explained how “elementary” it was, he would throw out details that no one else could possibly know without three doctorate degrees and a photographic memory.
I recently watched a series of TV episodes about Sherlock Holmes, and it struck me again. However, in our modern age, it is not so very impossible to become an expert on esoteric topics in almost no time. We have the internet, where vast amounts of information is available at the tip of our fingers. We can find facts about nearly everything, everywhere, at any point in history. We can virtually track people, visit places, experience adventures, and yes, even solve mysteries– all without leaving our couch. And while there are numerous dangers of relying on information found in cyberspace, there is no denying the easy availability of it.
One of the things I like about most mysteries is that they show the triumph of good over evil. Mysteries tend to show us, not only the impact of evil in the loss of life or property, the suffering of victims, and the need for vigilance, but the longing for order and knowledge and safety that we hope someone can “solve.” A good mystery story ties up all the “loose ends” and answers all the burning questions– “Who did it?” “How?” “Why?” By the end of the story, we feel victorious and safe and satisfied.
But reading mysteries or solving puzzles can give us a false sense of safety and knowledge. In real life, there are many unsolved puzzles, unanwered questions, and “cold” case crimes with no resolution. We are left asking “Why?” and “How?” about many of the things that have happened in our lives. And the answers are not “elementary”– even for the most intelligent among us.
As an adult, I read (and watch) the Sherlock Holmes mysteries with a different mindset. I know, from past experience, that Sherlock Holmes will always outwit the criminal. And I will probably learn some little-known fact– likely one that I never needed to know–that may be astonishing. But I am more interested in the character of Sherlock Holmes himself, now. Likewise with many of the other detectives I enjoy reading about. Because mysteries involve the triumph of good over evil, they attract writers who study the ongoing fight between the two. Mysteries often involve complex machinations, intricate plots, many-layered characters, and misleading information.
And the detectives are often equally complex and many-layered. Their startling intellect and deductive skills leave us in awe. Yet, they also have human frailties that lead them to overlook key clues or lead them to take risks beyond what we would consider wise. And many of them wrestle with the concept of good and evil–they are often tempted to take the law into their own hands, or to do something illegal in order to bring a criminal to justice. Thus, the reader is left with another mysterious question– just what is “Good” or “Evil?” Are there times when, in order to do “right” we may need to do something that others consider “wrong?” Can two “wrongs” make a “right?”
Some of the best detective characters are almost god-like in their ability to ferret out evil. But they are constrained in their ability to defeat evil. They are, in the end, human. Even Sherlock Holmes, with his arrogant assumptions and dizzying deductions, cannot wipe out evil; cannot keep it from touching and even ruining lives. In fact, as Sherlock Holmes (and others) discovers, intelligence is often a key ingredient of evil. “Stupid” criminals are easy to catch. The great detectives are needed to find the brilliant masterminds of evil; the ones who would otherwise go undetected and unstopped.
The man who created Sherlock Holmes, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, was an agnostic and, in later life, became a spiritualist. He wrestled with the concepts of good and evil and particularly with the concept of how a “good” God could allow evil to exist. He was skeptical of the existence of the Biblical God, but instead believed in the continuing existence of the human spirit after death. He believed that the battle between good and evil was left to mankind to solve. He, like his famous character’s sidekick, Watson, was a medical doctor. He was a man who worshipped science– a man who valued facts above all. In fact, the stories of Sherlock Holmes offer us what seems to be a triumph, not just of good over evil, but of facts over faith.
Today, we celebrate the triumph of faith and facts over skepticism and arrogance. Jesus, unlike Sherlock Holmes, did not come to the earth to “solve the puzzle of evil” by bringing individual human criminals to justice. He did not brag about His great intellect, though He dazzled the Jewish Priests of His day with His knowledge and understanding of Scripture. Jesus had no fixed address. He did not write treatises or analyze dust samples– He created nature; He had no need for further study! His disciples did not write about Jesus merely because He did miracles. They did not write about Him in order to become rich or famous. Instead, they were martyred and exiled. Jesus did not put an end to the corruption of the priesthood under the Pharisees and Sadducees. He did not break the yoke of the powerful Roman Empire. He died on a wooden cross, hung between two criminals, after being convicted in an illegal trial, and a farce of an appeal to Pilate. He was flogged, taunted, pierced, and buried in a borrowed tomb. He was, by all appearances, defeated by evil and death. He lost– by human standards and appearances.
But faith tells us that God is Good; that Jesus is God; that Good triumphs over evil. And the facts bear out our faith. Yes, Jesus died. It was recorded, affirmed, and witnessed. But that wasn’t the end of the story. He rose again. There is no body in the tomb. There are witnesses to His post-crucifixion appearances. There were witnesses of his ascent into Heaven. His disciples died for their testimony and continued faith in the face of persecution, torture, and threats. And believers over the past two millennia have lived and died in the faith. We are witnesses of His power to redeem, to restore, and renew lives.
The events of Good Friday and Easter present the ultimate mystery. Jesus, Son of God, Messiah– eternal, all-powerful, all-Good– became a sacrifice for us. He allowed Himself to be an innocent victim of Evil for our Good. And in doing so, He didn’t just “solve” a puzzle– He defeated the power of Evil once for all! We don’t have to know more than the enemy. We don’t have to chase down and outwit death. We don’t have to be terrorized by the threat of evil, the weight of our guilt, or the power of the grave. All we have to do to defeat the evil in our lives is to trust in the work of the Risen Savior and follow Him.
Have you ever been the “victim” of a surprise party? Maybe you sensed that something was “up”, but you were still shocked and elated to see old friends or family all wanting to wish you well on (or near) your birthday, anniversary, wedding, retirement, or even “just because”. Even if you “catch on” or if someone “spoils” the surprise, it can be a wonderful celebration. (Or, on occasion, a disaster.)
Have you ever been on the planning side of a surprise party? Several years ago, we threw a surprise birthday/retirement party for my father. It required several months of planning. We invited cousins from out of town, co-workers, neighbors, and old friends. We gathered old pictures and mementos to display, ordered cake and balloons, and tried to keep the excitement under wraps, lest my father guess our intentions. All the details fell together, except we couldn’t figure out how to get him to the party without guessing. Dad was a genius at “sussing out” secrets and surprises, and also at setting them up. We wanted to turn the tables and give him the best surprise of his life.
Then, less than a week before the party, my aunt (my mom’s sister) died in a car accident. The funeral was arranged for the same day as Dad’s celebration. We suddenly had to wrestle with a decision– to cancel or to forge ahead. With so many coming from out of town, we decided to stick with the original plan. It would be difficult– my aunt’s funeral was scheduled earlier in the day, and there would be about an hour to drive from one event to the other. Dad was certainly surprised–already dressed in his best suit, he drove from a funeral in one town to a party in his honor 20 miles away. From flowers and tears to laughter and cake…it was a day unlike any other. The first several minutes were surreal and jarring. But it was also cathartic. As difficult as the day was, we honored both my father and my aunt. Being surrounded by family and friends, some of whom joined us for both events, became a healing and encouraging experience. It was not the surprise we expected–certainly not the surprise we had planned.
Several years later, (in fact, after my father had passed away) we planned another surprise party– this time for my mother. Mom had, of course, been part of the planning (as well as the trauma) of the first event. As with the first party, we invited family from out of town, ordered cake and balloons, gathered photos and memorabilia, and wondered how to get her to the event without suspicion. All went as planned, and we had a wonderful time. Mom was delightfully surprised, and even more so for having been through the experience of the prior party.
What does any of this have to do with prayer? Well…we prayed for both parties. We prayed that all would go well, that Dad and Mom in their turn would be surprised, that guests would arrive safely, and that the parties would both please and honor the recipient. God answered both prayers. His ways are not our ways– but He is eternally good. He gave us strength for each day in its turn, in the midst of surprises– pleasant, painful, and both together!
But, far more, the two parties offer an illustration of God’s grace in the area of knowledge and foreknowledge. “If I had only known…” is a common phrase, and one that we could readily apply to the Dad’s party. But if we had known the end from the beginning, would we have changed our plans? When we say that we want to know the future, we’re generally asking to know a specific outcome of a specific event– without considering the greater consequences and impact of that outcome. When we pray, we generally pray for a specific outcome, again without knowing the full consequences. What seems like a disastrous outcome to us may be God’s way of preparing us for an unexpected blessing. God doesn’t send bad gifts– disasters come (and God allows them in His sovereignty)–but He doesn’t send disaster and pain to mock us or ruin our lives. Instead, in the midst of tragedy, He gives us unexpected strength, comfort, and sometimes, even joy.
If we had known that Dad’s party would be shadowed; that my aunt would die so suddenly, we might have given in to despair and bitterness. And though the party brought unexpected comfort, it did nothing to erase the overall grief of my aunt’s passing. But we learned so many things that day. We were reminded that our time with Dad was precious– that life itself is precious– in a solemn and powerful way. We were able to receive comfort from unexpected sources. We would not have shared our tragedy in such a public way with those who did not even know my aunt. But circumstances forced us to do so, and in the process, we were able to continue to honor her in the celebration.
If we had known all that would happen at Dad’s party, and not seen it through, we might never have risked planning a party for Mom. If we knew in advance all the joys and tragedies we would face, we would never learn how to trust God for the next step in life. Even more, we would live in constant dread of looming tragedies and negate all the joy of discovery and wonder. We might not be driven to take risks if we already knew their outcome, and we might not learn from our mistakes if we already knew their consequences…and because our lives are so short, we might only see the short-term consequences, and never see the ultimate outcome.
God is above and beyond time– He is the creator of all things, including time. He has decreed for us a beginning and an end to life on earth, and He has decreed that we should life our lives with a certain amount of suspense– of not knowing what the future holds. It holds both triumph and tragedy– trial and temptation. Life is filled with surprises– catastrophes, ecstatic joy, and “a-ha” moments–as well as peacefully uneventful moments to reflect and enjoy.
As we pray today, we can be thankful that God’s knowledge is perfect, and that His power is sufficient to hold us in the midst of shock, lift us in the midst of tragedy, and surprise us with joy along the way. And we can ask Him to grant us the wisdom to trust Him fully when we don’t see the end from the beginning– or from the middle–of the storm.
16 Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego replied to him, “King Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. 17 If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us[c] from Your Majesty’s hand. 18 But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.”
Daniel 3:16-18 (NIV)
I hear a lot of American Christians complaining about the “dark days” in which we live. And indeed, they are dark. There is great evil in the world– wars, famines, injustices, hatred, division, greed, and immorality. But, along with complaints, I hear a note of whining. Isn’t God supposed to deliver us from just such evil? Isn’t He supposed to clear the way for us to love one another in peace and harmony? Surely, it can’t be His will for us to be laughed at, spit upon, misunderstood, and treated with contempt?!
The ancient nation of Israel was conquered and sent into exile. Israelites who had abandoned their faith, as well as those who had steadfastly served the Lord, were ripped from their homeland and marched to Babylon. Worship in the Temple of Jerusalem ceased. The Temple itself had been destroyed. There were no tabernacles, no festivals– none of the systems and structures of worship left available to God’s people. Yet some still worshipped– in homes, isolated from their fellow Jews, or in secret groups. They were not surrounded by reminders of when “their” religious beliefs were considered the cultural norm. Nor did they live in a culture that practiced religious “toleration” as we understand it today.
In the book of Daniel, the commitment of s handful of exiles is detailed as it comes in conflict with the oppressive control of the Babylonian (and later the Persian) Empire. Daniel and his three friends are challenged by the pressure to compromise and adapt to their surroundings. They are tempted and bribed by the promise of power in the court– if they can compete with other Babylonians. But they secretly hold fast to their “old” diet, and religious practices. They refuse to eat the rich food of Babylon– or bow to its gods.
In Chapter 3 of Daniel, the three friends, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, refuse to bow to a golden statue of Nebudchadnezzar, the megalomaniac for whom they worked. Even though he had appointed them to high offices, he refused to “coddle” them in their worship of a foreign god. He demanded that they bow to his statue– something God had commanded them NOT to do.
It might have been easy enough to secretly meet in homes and celebrate Passover without alerting those around them. It would have been possible for them to hide scrolls containing the ancient words of their historians and prophets, to be read or studied. But they were being asked to publicly bow to a statue of their King– to acknowledge him as a “god.” And they refused. As court officials, their refusal was not just a minor snub, but a scandalous insult. Yet they stood firm.
Shocked and angered, Nebuchadnezzar, a notoriously cruel and impulsive king, gave them a generous “second chance” to save their careers and lives by obeying his orders. Amazingly, the three did not even spend a moment considering their options. They answered, boldly, courageously, and graciously, that they would not bow down to the statue. And God rescued them from the fiery furnace, so that not even their hair was singed by the flames– even though their captors were killed in the very act of pushing them into the furnace! God not only rescued them– He appeared WITH them in the midst of the flames. This so astonished Nebuchadnezzar, that he ordered them released and proclaimed that no one should say anything against the God of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego–an incredible act of religious toleration for that culture and time.
The story of The Fiery Furnace is well-known. I’ve used it before in my posts. But today, I’d like to focus on just one little phrase that stood out to me this week. When brought before Nebuchadnezzar the first time, the three men said, “we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter…” (v. 16).
How tempting it might have been to have defended their refusal– to give Nebuchadnezzar a lecture on God’s Law and His past miracles. But they refused to explain or defend their actions. They merely gave testimony of their faith that God COULD save them, and that, “even if He does not..” they were willing to die rather than dishonor Him. And Nebuchadnezzar SAW the proof of their faith in a way that their words and arguments could not have accomplished!
Most of the time, when I hear Christians talking about this story, they focus on the miraculous deliverance of the three men from the flames. The lesson is that God will be with us, no matter what. He can deliver us FROM the flames, but often, He chooses to deliver us THROUGH the flames. And that is a wonderful lesson and a true promise.
But that deliverance should not overshadow the quiet dedication of the three men. Before God joined them in the fire, they were already committed to dying in silence to obey God rather than their earthly king. They stood to lose everything– their lives, their legacy of faith, their service, their families (who might have been left destitute or even subject to punishment)– all of it was riding on their willingness to suffer injustice and torture. We know that God “showed up”– literally– in their defense. And they certainly knew that God COULD save them. But they also acknowledged that “if He does not..” they were still willing to die. And they were willing to do so, not acknowledged as martyred heroes, but as convicted criminals.
Centuries later, Jesus Christ would appear before Pontius Pilate, who asked Him to give a defense. Astonished at Jesus’ refusal to argue and plead for His life, Pilate came to the conclusion that “I find no fault in Him.” (John 19:4) Jesus willingly accepted an unjust sentence of Death, offering no argument or defense, except the Truth. No one came to His rescue. And God did NOT spare His life! The Son of God died as a criminal on a Roman cross, betrayed by Jewish leaders. Yet, Jesus’ obedience; His willingness to die brought US life, and forgiveness and peace!
There are millions of believers in Christ today who must be prepared to face a “fiery furnace” moment–maybe it involves death or torture. Perhaps it only involves being teased or despised by a neighbor or a classmate at school. And we may pray for deliverance–that is natural. But how often do we give up the chance to argue, and justify our diligence, our “right” to worship “our” way? How ready are we to be seen as foolish, or even rebellious to the culture of the day? We long for God to come to our physical rescue– to join us IN the fire– but are we willing to let Him be our defense? Are we willing to be humble in the face of obvious injustice, and let God speak up on our behalf? And what if He does not?
The Apostle Paul also faced this dilemma. Not only were there Greek and Roman officials who thought him a fool, there were Jews– his own people– who were going around defaming him, denouncing him, and spreading lies and rumors. Paul (never one to let a good argument go unargued!) spent much of his time in letters writing out his defense of the Gospel. But, in his own defense, he downplayed his position and his great knowledge of the scripture. He was not defending himself “in these matters”– he was defending the Truth of the Gospel! He also acknowledged that God could use even detractors and tormentors to spread the Gospel. And he often urged fellow believers to live in peace with their unbelieving neighbors, even those who taunted them!
It is tempting in Western Culture, where Christianity has been normalized, to think that when we defend ourselves, we are defending Christianity. But what if, like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, we let God be our defense– in the flames, in the courtroom of public opinion, in our own families? What if we followed Jesus’ example and remained calm and confident, even under duress? What if we lived humble and quiet lives of integrity, ready to submit even to the flames or the cross, serving even those who would stoke the fires or pound the nails? God might just “show up” in ways we never could have imagined! Courage is often seen as boldness and speaking up in our own defense. But, sometimes, it takes greater courage to stand silent and let our actions– even when they are disparaged and misinterpreted– speak as a testimony of God’s power.
“Look at the proud! They trust in themselves, and their lives are crooked, but the righteous will live by their faith.”
Habakkuk 2:4
Is it rational to believe in God? About three and a half centuries ago, the French philosopher, Blaise Pascal, drew up what is now known as “Pascal’s Wager.” In it, he gives a “rational” justification for belief in God (theism). In it, he posits that if God doesn’t exist, it doesn’t matter whether or not we believe that He does. But if God is real, the consequences of our belief or denial are crucial. If the God of the Bible exists (along with heaven and hell, sin and salvation), the failure to believe will lead us to lose everything; the decision to believe will lead us to gain everything…there is no in between.
I’m not a big fan of Pascal’s Wager. Not because it’s bad logic, per se, but because it depends on belief, but not faith.
What’s the difference? Belief says that God exists–that He is supreme, that He controls our destiny, and that He must be obeyed. It will produce a life of theistic obedience to God’s Law, including a life of “good” works, moral conduct, and “right” thinking. But it will not produce a Godly character. It will not be a life of righteousness.
Faith, on the other hand, believes that God not only exists, but that He rewards those who earnestly seek Him (Hebrews 11:6) and that He so loved the world, that He gave His only Son (John 3:16) to save us from Sin and Death (1 Corinthians 15:56-7). It is not our belief in God’s existence that saves us and gives us life; rather it is Faith by His Grace! (Ephesians 2:8-9) in the nature and character of God– in the atoning work of Jesus as revelation and proof of His character– that saves us from Sin and Death.
Pascal’s Wager is a way of thinking about God. It can lead someone to believe, which can produce a life of Faith. But it can also produce a kind of life that is ruled by grudging obedience, resentment, and pride in one’s own powers of self-control and understanding. Faith lives in dependence and humility, and joyous gratitude for God’s gifts.
The prophet Habakkuk, who first wrote the phrase, “the righteous will live by faith,” learned this lesson in dramatic fashion. He “believed” in God– in His righteousness and justice. He spoke to God about the wickedness he saw all around him, among his own people. God gave him a difficult answer: Justice was coming in the form of an invasion by the Babylonians– a group known for their wickedness and cruelty and lack of justice! God’s answer was shocking and counter-intuitive. But Habakkuk chose to believe and put his faith in God’s Eternal Character, as God revealed the “rest of the story.” Israel would suffer; justice would be cruel–but God’s glory and His salvation would triumph. Habakkuk’s response was a song of praise. Regardless of his circumstances, Habakkuk would wait and rejoice, knowing that God’s ways are perfect.
It’s not difficult to say we believe in God. But are we living in Faith? I find it easy to let circumstances–especially injustice and wickedness–overwhelm me and rob me of peace and joy. But I find it comforting to know that my momentary doubts cannot stop God’s promises, His Mercy, or His power to help me live by Faith. That’s due to His righteousness, not mine, but through Christ, I can trust in it, walk in it, and live in it!
As I write this, I am keenly aware that one year ago, I was at a graveside, saying farewell to my mother. Grieving comes in waves. I rejoice that she is in heaven, and I rejoice that she had a good, long life, and that she didn’t suffer very long at the end. But there is still an ache– wanting to share a memory or a laugh and knowing she isn’t here; questions I didn’t know I had, but now she can’t answer them; just missing her voice and her smile. My father has been gone for 25 years, and the same ache still hits at odd moments.
Sometimes, grieving brings us closer to God. At other times, we can let our grief drive us away from God. But God doesn’t move. He is ever-present. And He reminds us that He is “close to the broken hearted” (Psalm 34:18). When we are grieving, that is a blessed reminder. Grief tends to isolate us. “No one understands…” “Laugh, and the whole world laughs with you; cry, and you cry alone.” We see the “rest of the world” enjoying life, seemingly untouched by sorrow, and we feel abandoned twice over.
As Christians, we are called to follow Jesus’ example, and be close to the broken hearted. We should be the ones ready with a hug, a listening ear, and a shoulder to cry on. We should be the ones who, like the friends of Job (before they offered ill-advised ‘counsel’) are willing to sit with our suffering friends for days at a time, offering the comfort of solidarity and ‘presence.’
My family was blessed with a host of Christian friends and family who comforted us in the days and weeks after Mom’s passing. They still ask. They still share memories. They still pray for us. And in return, we do the same. God does not want any of us to suffer alone.
And this is also true for those who suffer a broken heart for other reasons– divorce, the loss of a home to fire or flood, the loss of a job, a wayward son or daughter– it is important for us to draw strength from others, and offer strength in our turn. But the source of our strength is Jesus, who suffered on our behalf, and rose victorious over death and separation. When “no one” understands, He DOES. When the world leaves us grieving alone, He is THERE. And when we see someone else grieving and suffering, and we don’t know what to do– He gives us the strength and the compassion to reach beyond our own resources and offer comfort.
On our own, we can be like Job’s friends– after awhile, we try to offer solutions, explanations, even judgment about another’s grief. “It’s time to move on.” “Just get over it.” “Well, if only you had…” None of these are helpful. Jesus never said any of those things to the people He came to comfort. Instead, He encouraged them to look to Him as the “resurrection and the life.” (see John 11:25).
Today, let us do the same. There are hurting people all around us. Let’s be an encouragement to others to embrace life– even when we are broken hearted.
Across from our shop, there is a mural that tells the story of the first “Orphan Train.” In October of 1854, 45 children– some orphaned, others abandoned–arrived in southwest Michigan from New York City. Conditions for such children in the large cities were dangerous. Floods of immigrants included children who had lost their parents on the voyage to America, or who had been separated from their families upon arrival. There were very few orphanages, and almost no resources dedicated to child welfare. Hunger, disease, crime, and exposure to the elements meant that many children never lived to maturity. Most of them lived on the streets; ignored, preyed upon, or simply forgotten. A group called the Children’s Aid Society, founded in 1853, had tried helping children– especially boys–but their limited resources were overwhelmed within the first year.
Section of the Orphan Train Mural, Dowagiac, Michigan (Ruth Andrews)
It was the idea of a man named Charles Loring Brace that large numbers of these children could escape the dangerous environs of the city and find safety and hope in the expanding “West.” With the help of the new railroads, groups of children could travel west, where kind-hearted families could adopt them. Food, shelter, education, fresh air, opportunity, and a loving family- this was the promise of the orphan train. For some children, it was the start of a wonderful new life. For some, it was trading a hard life in the city for a hard life on the frontier.
I can only imagine how frightening it must have been for the first train-load of orphans to travel here. Few people had ever traveled by train in those days. Some of the children had never traveled more than a few blocks from where they had been born– had never seen a farm or a forest. Part of their journey was on a steamboat. The journey would not have been comfortable, but it would have been exciting and even terrifying at times. They had no guarantee of finding homes or families who would be willing to take care of them– only the hope that someone might.
What does this have to do with prayer? Well, the obvious connection would be that everyone involved with this venture must have prayed diligently. All 45 children were placed with local families in that first journey. And the success of this first placement encouraged future endeavors. The “orphan trains” ran for 75 years, and carried nearly a quarter of a million children to new homes throughout the growing United States. And while not every child found a “happy ending” with their new family, most of them survived to create a new life as adults–an opportunity many other orphans had been denied.
But it struck me today, as I was looking at the mural and thinking about the fate of these children, that we are or were all in a similar situation. I am so thankful to be able to pray to my Loving Father– but there was a time when I was lost and without hope. There was a time when Sin had made me an orphan. I was alone and frightened and helpless to save myself. Like the orphans in first part of the mural, I was sick and sad, my best intentions were no more than tattered rags. Even as they line up to board the train, their faces show fear and pain.
It can be frightening to call out to God– frightening to leave the life we know, even when it is dangerous and unhealthy. God’s way takes us to uncomfortable and unfamiliar places–we can’t see the road ahead, and we don’t know what our “new” life will be like.
As I gaze once again at the mural, the last section shows an idealized version of the “new life” experienced by the riders of the “Orphan Train.” It shows a groups of children in a circle, holding hands and playing in the sunshine among grass and trees, while a bird flutters nearby. It is a heavenly place– the children’s clothes are clean, and they look healthy and happy. And while this is an ideal, rather than the reality for some of the children, it is a reminder of the contrast with the life they left behind.
Thanks be to God for His Grace that rescues us from the ravages of Sin. He offers us an escape to a new life– complete with a new family and a glorious hope of Heaven. He offers full adoption– guaranteed by the blood of His own Son– for those who will choose to leave their old life of Sin behind and travel as an orphan on His own “Orphan Train.”
4 I mean that the heir, as long as he is a child, is no different from a slave, though he is the owner of everything, 2 but he is under guardians and managers until the date set by his father. 3 In the same way we also, when we were children, were enslaved to the elementary principles of the world. 4 But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, 5 to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. 6 And because you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!”
