You will have no other gods besides Me.
The First Commandment can be said to be the hook, designed to get our attention. No other Gods. period. What about that do we not understand?
Modes and his homeboys certainly understood. They'd just come from Egypt, after all, where just about everything could be deified. The Egyptians had jackal-headed gods, and cow-headed gods, and gods that looked like storks. It was pretty confusing to the average Egyptian, who generally picked one god to worship in the house...or hut, temple. (This kind of 'selection' is common to most polytheistic cultures.)
Even so, there were a number of Israelites who would have been just as happy hedging their bets with other gods. Maybe the God of Israel wasn't quite strong enough in some areas...let's give Him some backup!
Hedging bets. That's really they key, isn't it?
The First Commandment really says, "count on me...you don't need anyone else".
In the 21st century, we don't have to much trouble with golden calves or gods with weird heads and weirder names. But we do have problems with hedging bets.
Such as - "he who dies with the most toys wins".
In other words...this might be all we got, this life. So grab what you can, and live life to the 'fullest'.
Who knows if you'll really get pie in the sky when you die?
God's saying, BELIEVE! It's such an important concept that He made it a Commandment.
The first one.
Why we're here...
Love and marriage are the greatest adventures in life, and they point they way to our relationship with the Almighty.
We're honored to be a member of the Christian Marriage Bloggers Association...click on their logo to visit them.
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Monday, October 28, 2013
Stuff You Can't Afford to Lose
Most of what you have, you can afford to lose. Really.
You can't afford to lose faith.
You can afford to lose family - and one day, you will, in part or in whole.
You can afford to lose reputation, because it's what other people think of you, and you can't control that.
But you can't afford to lose your honor. Often seen as the handmaiden of reputation, it's far deeper, because it goes into your soul.
Honor, at its basic level, is being the person who does the right thing, and who can be depended on to do the right thing. You keep your covenants.
Always.
Because if you break one, just one time, you've changed your life forever. Yes, God will forgive you and put your sins as far away as the East is from the West.
But convincing your own heart to follow suit is almost impossible. You can forget for a long time, you can accept forgiveness from those you've wronged, you can convince yourself that it's along time past and you're a different person...
...and then a chance remark or a hint subtle as a summer-night breeze will bring it all back, in its dreadful grandeur.
And there is no temporal atonement. The Japanese Samurai thought they were onto something with seppuku...that all honor lost could be regained through the simple expedient of ritual suicide.
Which only serves to show why there aren't many practicing samurai still around, I guess.
For the rest of us, lost honor bows our heads, and shades our hearts. It shouldn't be thus...we should be able to feel washed clean, with a new start.
But most of us don;t, and can't. Fact of life. God may be disappointed, but I suspect He understands.
So teach your kids...your word is vital, and the promises you make before man and God have to be faithfully kept.
Because there are some burdens you simply can't put down.
You can't afford to lose faith.
You can afford to lose family - and one day, you will, in part or in whole.
You can afford to lose reputation, because it's what other people think of you, and you can't control that.
But you can't afford to lose your honor. Often seen as the handmaiden of reputation, it's far deeper, because it goes into your soul.
Honor, at its basic level, is being the person who does the right thing, and who can be depended on to do the right thing. You keep your covenants.
Always.
Because if you break one, just one time, you've changed your life forever. Yes, God will forgive you and put your sins as far away as the East is from the West.
But convincing your own heart to follow suit is almost impossible. You can forget for a long time, you can accept forgiveness from those you've wronged, you can convince yourself that it's along time past and you're a different person...
...and then a chance remark or a hint subtle as a summer-night breeze will bring it all back, in its dreadful grandeur.
And there is no temporal atonement. The Japanese Samurai thought they were onto something with seppuku...that all honor lost could be regained through the simple expedient of ritual suicide.
Which only serves to show why there aren't many practicing samurai still around, I guess.
For the rest of us, lost honor bows our heads, and shades our hearts. It shouldn't be thus...we should be able to feel washed clean, with a new start.
But most of us don;t, and can't. Fact of life. God may be disappointed, but I suspect He understands.
So teach your kids...your word is vital, and the promises you make before man and God have to be faithfully kept.
Because there are some burdens you simply can't put down.
Friday, October 25, 2013
Why Did Jesus Weep?
The last week saw the death of my beloved mother-in-law. It's like a mountain range has sudden;y departed my horizon, and I have lost my bearings in a world suddenly gone unfamiliar...and a landscape allowing cold winds to blow unimpeded.
It does make one think of life and death. And about the shortest verse in the Bible..."Jesus wept."
Why did He weep? On the face of it, this reaction doesn't make sense. he's God, right? He knows that not only will He restore Lazarus, but that all who turn to Him will rise again.
Well, maybe He was just being sympathetic. He felt the pain of Lazarus' family, and felt is so deeply that it brought tears.
This is also an unsatisfying answer. While a robust "Buck up, kids, I'll set this nonsense right" response would have been out-of-place, the sight of their leader weeping over a single death in a land where death was cheap would not have engendered much confidence in His disciples.
Beyond this, it's a bit condescending. If He could see so much further, beyond death's tragedy, the tears would have been...no disrespect intended...ingenuous.
So, why? Why did He cry?
I think He cried for two reasons. The first is that to truly represent and save us, He had to experience life sequentially, just like we do. He couldn't emotionally jump ahead a few pages and see the outcome. Lazarus' death was a fact. His resurrection was not yet a fact. He was therefore constrained to the Now, and not the Tomorrow.
Did He know that Lazarus would die, and that He would bring him back again? Evidence is that He did - delaying for four days made sure that, under Hebrew tradition, the soul had departed the body (which it was said to inhabit for three days after death). It also made sure that decomposition would be well advanced, which is why there was some reluctance to roll away the stone.
So with that a priori knowledge, why did Jesus weep?
I think that it is because raising Lazarus was a work of faith, and to identify with us, He had to live the feeling that, in the face of a monumental tragedy like the death of a friend, faith can be a slender reed indeed.
Faith is not knowing. Faith is belief in something unseen, and in this case as yet unconsummated.
We have some evidence that Jesus faced a very human struggle with faith, in the garden of Gethsemane and on the Cross.
And that is why I love Him. Because He gives me a shoulder to lean on...and had I been there, two thousand years ago, I could have returned the favor. He's my God.
It does make one think of life and death. And about the shortest verse in the Bible..."Jesus wept."
Why did He weep? On the face of it, this reaction doesn't make sense. he's God, right? He knows that not only will He restore Lazarus, but that all who turn to Him will rise again.
Well, maybe He was just being sympathetic. He felt the pain of Lazarus' family, and felt is so deeply that it brought tears.
This is also an unsatisfying answer. While a robust "Buck up, kids, I'll set this nonsense right" response would have been out-of-place, the sight of their leader weeping over a single death in a land where death was cheap would not have engendered much confidence in His disciples.
Beyond this, it's a bit condescending. If He could see so much further, beyond death's tragedy, the tears would have been...no disrespect intended...ingenuous.
So, why? Why did He cry?
I think He cried for two reasons. The first is that to truly represent and save us, He had to experience life sequentially, just like we do. He couldn't emotionally jump ahead a few pages and see the outcome. Lazarus' death was a fact. His resurrection was not yet a fact. He was therefore constrained to the Now, and not the Tomorrow.
Did He know that Lazarus would die, and that He would bring him back again? Evidence is that He did - delaying for four days made sure that, under Hebrew tradition, the soul had departed the body (which it was said to inhabit for three days after death). It also made sure that decomposition would be well advanced, which is why there was some reluctance to roll away the stone.
So with that a priori knowledge, why did Jesus weep?
I think that it is because raising Lazarus was a work of faith, and to identify with us, He had to live the feeling that, in the face of a monumental tragedy like the death of a friend, faith can be a slender reed indeed.
Faith is not knowing. Faith is belief in something unseen, and in this case as yet unconsummated.
We have some evidence that Jesus faced a very human struggle with faith, in the garden of Gethsemane and on the Cross.
And that is why I love Him. Because He gives me a shoulder to lean on...and had I been there, two thousand years ago, I could have returned the favor. He's my God.
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Jesus Goes Skydiving
Heard something interesting on Bill Purvis' televised sermon last Sunday (October 20, 2013) - "some people don't look up until they hit bottom".
That is so true. I've known many people whose lives seemed to go into free-fall, and they kept trying, desperately, to work the problem. Trouble was, they became fixated on the rapidly growing, and very hard landscape beneath their feet.
If you commit the highly unnatural and illogical act of jumping out of a perfectly good airplane while wearing a parachute, one of the first things you'll learn is that you need to keep your eyes on the horizon as you approach the ground.
Best to learn this when you're told. learning by experience means you've just driven your femurs through your pelvis.
The problem is the same one that deer get when you see them in your headlights. Paralysis, and the total lack of ability to take effective action. You're scrabbling for the steel D-ring at the end of the ripcord, but your fingers can't make the connection.
You do have time to wonder how high you'll bounce.
When everything in your life is going wrong, and you stare at the oncoming disaster, you're going to funnel yourself right into it. Kind of like the old saying that when a man thinks he's going to die tomorrow, he'll usually find some way to make it happen.
But if you raise your eyes to the horizon - you will find that Jesus is falling at your side.
And look - he's reaching for the ripcord you can't reach!
That is so true. I've known many people whose lives seemed to go into free-fall, and they kept trying, desperately, to work the problem. Trouble was, they became fixated on the rapidly growing, and very hard landscape beneath their feet.
If you commit the highly unnatural and illogical act of jumping out of a perfectly good airplane while wearing a parachute, one of the first things you'll learn is that you need to keep your eyes on the horizon as you approach the ground.
Best to learn this when you're told. learning by experience means you've just driven your femurs through your pelvis.
The problem is the same one that deer get when you see them in your headlights. Paralysis, and the total lack of ability to take effective action. You're scrabbling for the steel D-ring at the end of the ripcord, but your fingers can't make the connection.
You do have time to wonder how high you'll bounce.
When everything in your life is going wrong, and you stare at the oncoming disaster, you're going to funnel yourself right into it. Kind of like the old saying that when a man thinks he's going to die tomorrow, he'll usually find some way to make it happen.
But if you raise your eyes to the horizon - you will find that Jesus is falling at your side.
And look - he's reaching for the ripcord you can't reach!
Monday, October 21, 2013
Warriors
Where did anyone get the idea that being a warrior was fun?
Every fight I've been in, I wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere else.
There's that song, "Voice of Truth", with the lines:
"...surrounded by the sound of a thousand warriors
shaking in their armor,
and wishing they'd have had the strength to stand..."
Much to Barbara's displeasure, I rewrote one line...
"...surrounded by the sound of a thousand warriors
shaking in their armor,
and wishing they'd have had the sense to stay home..."
It's certainly more representative of most combat infantrymen.
And yet...why do so many return for another tour, forsaking home and family? They get into theater, and bind and moan about everything, and long to return home.
And then look forward to the next deployment.
Is this crazy? Are we madmen, who can't find anything better to do than dice with death like over-the-edge hot-rodders on Mulholland Boulevard?
Or are we cold killers, whose senses are so deadened that we can only feel through nihilism?
And do we love our families so lightly that we can leave them to a final government paycheck...or, for a contractor, sometimes nothing at all?
Are we patriots, looking, like modern-day Nathan Hales, for a place to give that one life for our country?
None of the above, I think...or at least, the above form only small pieces framing a larger whole.
Going into a fight, we're coming home.
Home is a place where life is reduced to elemental factors. Dry is better than wet, warm is better than cold. Defilade - when the enemy can't put direct fire on you - is better than being enfiladed (being shot at).
The guys around you are the most important thing in the world, and you can't let them down.
And that is the key. Your wife may divorce you, your kids may run away, your parents may disown you.
But somewhere out there is a guy who will go back-to-back with you, and is perfectly willing to die with you, surrounded by empty shell cases.
Kind of like Jesus.
Every fight I've been in, I wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere else.
There's that song, "Voice of Truth", with the lines:
"...surrounded by the sound of a thousand warriors
shaking in their armor,
and wishing they'd have had the strength to stand..."
Much to Barbara's displeasure, I rewrote one line...
"...surrounded by the sound of a thousand warriors
shaking in their armor,
and wishing they'd have had the sense to stay home..."
It's certainly more representative of most combat infantrymen.
And yet...why do so many return for another tour, forsaking home and family? They get into theater, and bind and moan about everything, and long to return home.
And then look forward to the next deployment.
Is this crazy? Are we madmen, who can't find anything better to do than dice with death like over-the-edge hot-rodders on Mulholland Boulevard?
Or are we cold killers, whose senses are so deadened that we can only feel through nihilism?
And do we love our families so lightly that we can leave them to a final government paycheck...or, for a contractor, sometimes nothing at all?
Are we patriots, looking, like modern-day Nathan Hales, for a place to give that one life for our country?
None of the above, I think...or at least, the above form only small pieces framing a larger whole.
Going into a fight, we're coming home.
Home is a place where life is reduced to elemental factors. Dry is better than wet, warm is better than cold. Defilade - when the enemy can't put direct fire on you - is better than being enfiladed (being shot at).
The guys around you are the most important thing in the world, and you can't let them down.
And that is the key. Your wife may divorce you, your kids may run away, your parents may disown you.
But somewhere out there is a guy who will go back-to-back with you, and is perfectly willing to die with you, surrounded by empty shell cases.
Kind of like Jesus.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Do We Misrepresent God?
There are so very many uplifting and encouraging Scripture verses...
"I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me."
"If you have faith as a grain of mustard seed, nothing shall be impossible unto you."
"Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you."
They're wonderful, but often they don't work. We can't do all things, and much that we would like to accomplish remains out of reach.
And some doors stay closed, and we are given a stone rather than a loaf.
Many new Christians see the dichotomy, and look at preachers who see God's favor in obtaining a preferred parking spot, and conclude that Christianity is a sham. They drift away to Eastern religion, to New Age, or to an unfocused agnosticism.
Are we using "sound bite Scripture" to misrepresent God? Are we replacing the Man of Sorrows with Hello Kitty?
Sometimes, perhaps we are.
"Doing all things through Christ which strengtheneth me" means that one can do all through Christ who strengthens us. But Jesus was not a frivolous Savior, dispensing strength for whatever one wanted. He dispensed, and still gives, the kind of strength He needed to survive Calvary.
Not to swing a lucrative business deal
And the mustard seed...the point, I think, is that we don't have that perfect faith possessed by a seed. Through Adam's sin we have doubt mixed with our faith - always.
We can't move mountains just because we say, "Move!"
And when we ask, what are we asking for? Are we looking for grace, seeking after salvation, or are we using this passage as justification for "blab it and grab it"?
Are we knocking on the door to God's heart, or the door to the Ferrari dealership? Will He open both? Or does the door we choose make all the difference in the world?
The Bible isn't a collection of magic spells, and our wildest temporal dreams won't come true if we just believe hard enough.
It 's a guide to Salvation, and the path has been made for us. But those aren't the tracks of Air Jordans, and the aroma we smell is not Vera Wang for Men.
We walk in the path trodden by bare feet, weighted down by a Cross
What we smell is blood.
That's Christianity.
"I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me."
"If you have faith as a grain of mustard seed, nothing shall be impossible unto you."
"Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you."
They're wonderful, but often they don't work. We can't do all things, and much that we would like to accomplish remains out of reach.
And some doors stay closed, and we are given a stone rather than a loaf.
Many new Christians see the dichotomy, and look at preachers who see God's favor in obtaining a preferred parking spot, and conclude that Christianity is a sham. They drift away to Eastern religion, to New Age, or to an unfocused agnosticism.
Are we using "sound bite Scripture" to misrepresent God? Are we replacing the Man of Sorrows with Hello Kitty?
Sometimes, perhaps we are.
"Doing all things through Christ which strengtheneth me" means that one can do all through Christ who strengthens us. But Jesus was not a frivolous Savior, dispensing strength for whatever one wanted. He dispensed, and still gives, the kind of strength He needed to survive Calvary.
Not to swing a lucrative business deal
And the mustard seed...the point, I think, is that we don't have that perfect faith possessed by a seed. Through Adam's sin we have doubt mixed with our faith - always.
We can't move mountains just because we say, "Move!"
And when we ask, what are we asking for? Are we looking for grace, seeking after salvation, or are we using this passage as justification for "blab it and grab it"?
Are we knocking on the door to God's heart, or the door to the Ferrari dealership? Will He open both? Or does the door we choose make all the difference in the world?
The Bible isn't a collection of magic spells, and our wildest temporal dreams won't come true if we just believe hard enough.
It 's a guide to Salvation, and the path has been made for us. But those aren't the tracks of Air Jordans, and the aroma we smell is not Vera Wang for Men.
We walk in the path trodden by bare feet, weighted down by a Cross
What we smell is blood.
That's Christianity.
Monday, October 14, 2013
Not That Kind of God
Today I heard something on Family Life Radio that floored me.
It was a radio show intended for children - the scene that was set was a young woman whose mother died, being 'comforted' by a male friend with a goofy voice.
The young woman was wondering why there is so much suffering, and her 'friend' said that, well, if we didn't suffer, we wouldn't know what life was like when it was good.
He used the analogy of coming out of the water after swimming, in a chilly, clammy bathing suit, and then changing into nice cozy warm dry clothes. You wouldn't be able to appreciate the warm clothes unless you'd been uncomfortable before.
Perhaps that works for swimming.
But for someone who lost a parent, that explanation makes as much sense as chopping someone's leg off so that they could fully enjoy a lollipop later.
Losing a parent is a permanent, life-changing scar. To compare it to swimming, and to further turn it into a salutary lesson, is simply obscene.
The God of the New Testament wept at death, even though He knew it would all be set right. He knew that we'd hurt, and that even though the separation wasn't permanent, it would sometimes seem that way to us.
He grieved with us, and didn't try to turn it into a Bible School discussion topic.
Everyone has a bad day, but FLR sure spiked their own end zone on that one.
It was a radio show intended for children - the scene that was set was a young woman whose mother died, being 'comforted' by a male friend with a goofy voice.
The young woman was wondering why there is so much suffering, and her 'friend' said that, well, if we didn't suffer, we wouldn't know what life was like when it was good.
He used the analogy of coming out of the water after swimming, in a chilly, clammy bathing suit, and then changing into nice cozy warm dry clothes. You wouldn't be able to appreciate the warm clothes unless you'd been uncomfortable before.
Perhaps that works for swimming.
But for someone who lost a parent, that explanation makes as much sense as chopping someone's leg off so that they could fully enjoy a lollipop later.
Losing a parent is a permanent, life-changing scar. To compare it to swimming, and to further turn it into a salutary lesson, is simply obscene.
The God of the New Testament wept at death, even though He knew it would all be set right. He knew that we'd hurt, and that even though the separation wasn't permanent, it would sometimes seem that way to us.
He grieved with us, and didn't try to turn it into a Bible School discussion topic.
Everyone has a bad day, but FLR sure spiked their own end zone on that one.
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