Living Hope

“…if Christ has not been raised, your faith is worthless and powerless—mere delusion; you are still in your sins and under the control and penalty of sin…If we who are abiding in Christ have hoped only in this life and this is all there is, then we are of all people most miserable and to be pitied.”—1 Corinthians 15: 17, 19, Amplified

Clearly, my first influencer for love of music was my dad’s mom, the pianist who had me at the keyboard when I was 4. But not far behind are my mom’s mom and dad, who were not musicians at all. They just loved God, and through thick and thin, they sang to Him in their own not-musician voices. In fact, there was a song that my grandmother loved during her failing years that became instrumental in my own day of salvation. It wasn’t my style but I couldn’t get the message of incredible living hope out of my head:

Because He lives, I can face tomorrow

Because He lives, all fear is gone

Because I know He holds the future

And life is worth the living just because He lives

The thing that grabbed me then is what still grabs me now:

The Son of God is not dead.

And if I believe in Him, then where He has gone, there I go as well. It’s the Song that will never end. More than that, if God is able to raise the dead, there is nothing that He cannot do here and now.

Which may be why this week, people in Brazil who have been social distancing joined my grandmother and did something really amazing:

Then there’s my mom’s dad, the dairy farmer who was up before dawn every day and loved singing old hymns on Sunday morning. He has been just as influential. Even the early riser part. Stepping outside this morning, I heard the bird chorus that’s growing with each passing day (even if it is supposed to snow tomorrow)…

…and one of the hymns I remember Puppa singing the loudest came to mind out of nowhere. History says it was written in a nature-filled setting like my back yard. But it’s the lyrics, especially the second verse, that are in step with my grandmother’s favorite song for such a time as this:

When morning gilds the skies, my heart awakening cries:

May Jesus Christ be praised!

Alike at work and prayer, to Jesus I repair

May Jesus Christ be praised!

The night becomes as day when from the heart we say:

May Jesus Christ be praised!

The powers of darkness fear when this sweet chant they hear:

May Jesus Christ be praised!

This past week, my grandparents’ influence has never been more meaningful. And through their attitudes and songs of faith, they have helped establish an essential calming, daily “to-do and to-be” list:

• Keep an attitude of prayer
• Keep being thankful
• Keep informed but practice social distancing from 24/7 news and social media craziness, and let songs of worship and edification fill your house and mind instead
• Keep singing, keep drinking in the lyrics, and let faith drive out fear
• Keep singing “Because He Lives” as loud as you did on the day you were saved
• Keep singing it like those Brazilians
• Keep at it because fear is persistent
• Keep in the Word of Truth and comfort and promise, and especially hang out in the Psalms
• Keep being wise in protecting yourself and those around you
• Keep thinking of others and how you can be a good neighbor
• Keep getting outside in the sun and keep breathing this God-given New Hampshire air
• Keep starting the day right by stepping outside to listen to the birds’ songs
• Keep singing, like Puppa, at the top of your lungs,  "When Morning Gilds the Skies”
• (Most of all) Keep letting that thing that grabbed you back then grab you again, over and over, even right now:

“The Son of God is not dead …

And if God is able to raise the dead,

there is nothing that He cannot do here and now.” ...

Heading Down an Unknown Road

"Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God." - Corrie Ten Boom

I had done this pleasurable end-of-the-day routine thousands of times before: walking out the office door, usually satisfied and grateful for a productive day’s work, uncoupling the building access badge and tucking it away, and driving into the sunset for the hour drive home. Friday, though, was unlike any other departure, because my car had a strange passenger: a box of daily work essentials hastily assembled from my desk and drawers and standing files. The new normal had suddenly become “work from home” until further notice.

As San Diego Padres first baseman Eric Hosmer said this week, “It feels like we’re living in a movie.” And as I drove out of the city and headed west, the usually happy departure became a surreal yet strangely peaceful moment of wondering aloud when I would get to come this way again. 

We’ve never been down this road before.

And with that reality comes the naturally human reflex of fear of the unknown...until you realize there are travelers who have gone before us to point the way.

I have to remind myself in times like these that the first rule for an unknown road is this: Never believe your Bible is irrelevant. It is amazing how the timelessness of ancient words can shed light and bring comfort during even a 21st Century pandemic. For a good chunk of his service to God and ministry to others, the apostle Paul knew what it felt like to have his world on lockdown. In the book of Philippians, he writes from an actual prison, but instead of using words of doom and gloom, he pens what are some really relevant words of encouragement to the local church.

He reminds us that the second rule for an unknown road is this: God is still here. God knows the way. God has always been faithful and always true to His promises, and He won’t stop now. With all of that as his foundation, this particular traveler who has gone before us, though on lockdown and having no idea what tomorrow might bring, is resolved to keep living the Life, to remain faithful to the always-faithful God personally, yes, but also in serving and loving others around him. And he encourages the timeless local church to do the same—all with the knowledge and peace that passes understanding that even though we may not know this road at all, God knows it like the back of His hand if only we will trust His never-fail GPS. 

And so a third rule for an unknown road: Don’t be tempted to exit to camp out at some roadside rest area until it’s over. Rest yes, by all means take care of your own body, mind and soul, and be as wise as an owl, but nevertheless, keep on driving, keep walking, keep going. And most of all, keep on trusting and praying.

Honestly, it can be hard to wrap your brain around all of this. But could it actually be, as Paul says, that all of this craziness that is happening in his world and our world on this unknown road “has really served to advance the Gospel”; that this is actually a never-before season for new opportunities to Love and pray and serve? You may have read those words casually a hundred times before, but this week they are jolting words that jump off of the page as with a sword, fighting to dethrone fear and enthrone faith. Words that sing lines from old hymns:

“Take the Name of Jesus with you…”

“This is my Father’s world, and though the wrong seems oft so strong, God is the ruler yet…”

“We will not fear for God has willed His Truth to triumph through us…”

To live and not hide, to be a light for those in need and not cower in the darkness.

To remember with shock and awe, as if hearing it for the first time, that God is always faithful and God is always able even to still storms, and God is Lord of heaven and earth and all that is in it, including a pandemic.

To remember that while everything in your normal life seems to be on lockdown…

“…but the Word of God can never be chained!”

—2 Timothy 2:9, Passion

In ancient Philippi and our little corner of the world, in every season, for every problem or crisis that’s ever been—a Kingdom opportunity awaits.

Even down this road we’ve never been before.

How, then, shall we live?

Selah.

How Sweet It Really Is

"If you can trust God to save you for eternity, you can trust Him to lead you for a lifetime." (David Platt)

My dad sang on the worship team right up to his 80^th year. He could joyously belt out harmonies on the newest of the new songs, but he had a special affection for old gospel hymns. In fact, one of the last Christmas gifts he gave me was a year-round devotional based on old hymn stories. He’d often say something to the effect of:

“Son, the older I get, the more I appreciate them.”

I nodded, but didn’t fully get it at the time.

While camping out the past couple of weeks in Psalm 119, and reading over and over how the psalmist put his trust in God and His Word in the face of difficulties on every side, one of dad's favorite old hymns, "'Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus," came to mind. Especially the phrase "Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him, how I’ve proved Him o’er and o’er."

Been there, even though wavering at times, but still own the t-shirt and wear it often.

I still struggle with the “so sweet” part, though. Really? Not my trials, not my difficulties. As it turns out, that hymn devotional dad gave me a few years ago sheds light on why Louisa Stead chose that particular phrase for the title of her hymn:

One day while having a family picnic on Long Island, she and her daughter watched in horror as Mr. Stead drowned while trying to help a young boy. Louisa lost not only her husband but all financial means of support as a result. She could have soured on life and even on God ("where were You when I needed You?!"). Instead, she and her daughter packed up what they had and spent the next quarter-century serving God and the needy on the mission field in South Africa.

And through it all, by being steadfast and faithful to the God who is the very definition of those words, Louisa was able to pen, ‘tis so sweet to trust in Jesus, just to take Him at His word, just to rest upon His promise, just to know thus sayeth the Lord.

Because she probably knew perfectly well that "sweet" wasn’t a questionable choice at all but the perfect word with meanings far beyond what we associate it with in our day:

highly satisfying,

pure,

clear,

great,

pleasing to the senses,

a sound, rock-solid and wholesome state.

A sweetness that perfectly describes the promises of God in every season, whether we feel them or not, and not just on the warm, sunny days when anyone can trust God.

They just don't fail. Ever. Even as we look around at the tsunami of out-of-control craziness in our world. Sometimes, we need a good book, like Psalm 119, or an old hymnal to pick up, open and hold onto; to feel those everlasting promises in our hands, breathe them in, and make them our own all over again. To keep walking by faith this never-dull Great Adventure.

To be able to declare to our souls every morning and evening, in the spirit of Louisa Stead:

“Your promises have been thoroughly tested; that is why I love them so much…as pressure and stress bear down on me, I find joy in Your commands.”
—Psalm 119: 140, 143, NLT

(And dad, you’ll be glad to know: I really do get it now.)



[ADAPTED FROM 3-6-16]