Jesus…the equal opportunity offender: Part 1

November 18, 2015 — 1 Comment

The other day, I tried to take a nap in a grocery store parking lot, in a semi-reclined Suburban passenger seat. The broken A/C was blowing hot volcanic gas on the right side of my face. My legs were curled up and my aching 30-something-year-old, four-child-bearing-hips were cramping. It was uncomfortable rest. Almost offensive.

“Come to me all who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28).

Have you ever wondered why Jesus uses the imagery of a yoke when he invites us to rest in Him?

A yoke is an instrument used to bind and drive animals, so why does Jesus say this? It seems pretty backward. Almost offensive.

Way back in the beginning of Matthew 11: 1-3:

“When Jesus had finished instructing his twelve disciples, he went on from there to teach and preach in their cities. Now when John (John the Baptist) heard in prison about the deeds of the Christ, he sent word by his disciples and said to him, “Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?'”

John the Baptist was in prison, (most likely an uncomfortable place) hearing stories about Jesus and wondering, is this really the guy? (As a side note here, this is such a comfort to me. This is the man promised to prepare the way for Jesus and even he had questions and uncertainties.) He asks, “Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?”

That question is amazing: “Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look to another?”

Let’s get real for a minute:

Have you ever been in the context of uncomfortable circumstances and wondered, “Is God going to show up?”

Have you ever sat and listened to someone else’s amazing testimony and thought, “But is that the same God I seem to be waiting on to do some miraculous thing in me and my situation?”

“Is the Jesus I hear everyone else in the church talking about, really the ‘guy’?”

“Is He really the way out of my suffering?”

“Should I just look to another?”

We are often tempted, especially in times of weariness or heavyladen-ness, to “Look to another”.

I know I have. We are going to see that the rest of Jesus’ words, all the way up to his invitation of rest (offensive rest), are an answer to this question: “Should I look to another?”

But before moving on to the rest of His words…today, let’s uncomfortably rest on these questions:

*In what ways do we look to another when we are tired of waiting for our circumstances, suffering, or trial to change?

*How quickly do we give up on Jesus and His ability to work miracles, turning our eyes to another hope?

*Which ‘others’ do we look to for salvation from our weariness or suffering? (Job, spouse, change of circumstances, physical fitness, kids, alcohol, sex, a home-run sermon, an amazing worship service…???)

*Why are we so quick to forget that He is the promised One?

Noah: LESSON 5: Finally…

November 5, 2015 — 1 Comment

I am so thrilled to be ending this series on Noah. I know I shouldn’t say that, because it was my own decision to start this, but seriously, I am so glad to not read about Noah anymore. It’s been tough and challenging for my soul. I have resisted learning from it and applying it to my everyday waiting. Finally, today I get to read about Noah getting off the boat! Yay! No more waiting! Surely, there won’t be a hard lesson with this one, right? 😉

Then God said to Noah, “Go out from the ark, you and your wife, and your sons and your sons’ wives with you. Bring out with you every living thing that is with you of all flesh—birds and animals and every creeping thing that creeps on the earth—that they may swarm on the earth, and be fruitful and multiply on the earth.” So Noah went out, and his sons and his wife and his sons’ wives with him. Every beast, every creeping thing, and every bird, everything that moves on the earth, went out by families from the ark.
Then Noah built an altar to the Lord and took some of every clean animal and some of every clean bird and offered burnt offerings on the altar. And when the Lord smelled the pleasing aroma, the Lord said in his heart, “I will never again curse the ground because of man, for the intention of man’s heart is evil from his youth. Neither will I ever again strike down every living creature as I have done. While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, shall not cease” (Genesis 8:15-22).

Finally, Noah and his family are allowed to escape their waiting. Finally, they are out of that stinkin’ ark. Finally, we see the worship and praise of glad hearts that are relieved to be done with the waiting! We finally get to the words that we have grown to associate with the story of Noah. Finally, it’s starting to sound like the Sunday School felt board of my youth. Now, all that’s missing is the colorful rainbow.

Ahh…there it is, FINALLY, in verse 19 of Genesis chapter 9: “When the bow is in the clouds, I will see it and remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is on the earth.” God said to Noah, “This is the sign of the covenant that I have established between me and all flesh that is on the earth.”

We love to hear of God’s covenant…especially when it’s a promise to not destroy the earth in a horrific globe consuming torrential downpour. We love to rest in the beautiful imagery of a magical rainbow filling the skies, with a felt cutout of a white bearded Noah underneath, standing on a green oval next to a pair of elephants. This is what we remember when it comes to Noah. This is what we are taught as children: God loves us and makes promises to us.

But we aren’t taught as children the bits of the story that are uncomfortably long and annoyingly difficult to swallow. We aren’t taught the whole story.

Yes. God’s promise here with the rainbow is good…real good…some of His finest work. He’s spectacular in the role of promise maker and covenant keeper.

But, that’s not the conclusion of the Noah account.

“The sons of Noah who went forth from the ark were Shem, Ham, and Japheth. (Ham was the father of Canaan.) These three were the sons of Noah, and from these the people of the whole earth were dispersed.

Noah began to be a man of the soil, and he planted a vineyard. He drank of the wine and became drunk and lay uncovered in his tent. And Ham, the father of Canaan, saw the nakedness of his father and told his two brothers outside. Then Shem and Japheth took a garment, laid it on both their shoulders, and walked backward and covered the nakedness of their father. Their faces were turned backward, and they did not see their father’s nakedness. When Noah awoke from his wine and knew what his youngest son had done to him, he said,

“Cursed be Canaan;
a servant of servants shall he be to his brothers.”
He also said,

“Blessed be the Lord, the God of Shem;
and let Canaan be his servant.
May God enlarge Japheth,[d]
and let him dwell in the tents of Shem,
and let Canaan be his servant.”
After the flood Noah lived 350 years. All the days of Noah were 950 years, and he died” (Genesis 9:18-29).

WHAT THE…!??!?!

Even if it were socially acceptable to have a naked and passed out felt Noah, I’m sure we would refrain from retelling this portion of the story to our children. Why?

Because it’s not a dreamy rainbow…and it’s an inappropriate scene…

Noah was about the closest thing to a celebrity that could be found in his day. The people of the whole earth came from him. Noah was channel 6’s citizen hero: He saved cute kitties and endangered salamanders during the massive flood. He was the one wise enough to fashion an ark, brave enough to load it up with two of every kind, patient enough to outlast the waters. (He would have done great on Survivor). He was a legend, a war hero. And that’s exactly where we like to leave the story hanging: with the legend given a promise by God left to re-populate the earth.

But he fell. Hard.

Instead, we are left with a picture of a drunk old man, filled with shame and embarrassment, who lashes out in anger against a grandson. (A grandson, who didn’t do anything wrong, but whose father disrespected Noah by telling his other sons about his drunkenness.)

So here it is…the kink in my rainbow. I thought we’d finally get to the sunshine and moonbeams of the Noah story, only to be left with the nastiness of our human nature. God is so amazing and faithful, making the firmest of promises to his people…and then his people act like this…nasty.

Noah is no different than you and I, no different than the Israelites who turned to worthless idols, no different than the disciples who abandoned Jesus in the garden.

The hard lesson: God is so faithful, and I am NOT.

Sometimes I fool myself into thinking I’ve got the stuff of legends, especially biblical legends, or at least that it’s somehow attainable. I want to believe that by digging into these famous people, I will learn the secret to waiting, to patience, to faithfulness, to thankfulness, to joy, etc. I trick myself into believing that I, like Noah, Moses, Ruth, Esther, Peter, Paul, will be swept up in a tale of adventure and transformation to be repeated for generations to come. I put my hope in gaining all the favorable characteristics of the “greats”…whether their passion, their perseverance, their faith, or their legendary adventure.

But when I read the fine print of every story, I see that they all bear testimony to the weakness of our humanity, to our frail nature, our wishy-washy-ness, and our faithlessness.

Noah reminds me that 1) yes, God makes a covenant to the world that never again will He destroy the entirety of it with a flood, and 2)

God has to make rainbow promises because He’s got every good reason to be done with us.

I find my stomach churning nightly during the evening news. Human trafficking runs rampant, hidden slavery joints tucked away in nearly every other shopping strip mall on the way to my children’s school. Social media lights up when the next superstar pastor is caught in infidelity. Our country rallies around athletic heroes arrested for spousal abuse or after being found overdosed in places of ill repute. I find myself yelling, once again, at my child who wants nothing more than to spend time with his momma, but my selfishness turns me against my own flesh and blood.

I am just like Noah.

God has every reason to wipe me out. He has every reason to annihilate this world full of people who can’t seem to get it together.

We are a bunch of Noahs, who don’t know our gluttonous selfish limits and breathe curses when our sin is bled out naked for all to see.

But we have a God, who in His great love makes covenant after covenant with HIMSELF on our behalf. “The Lord said in his heart, ‘I will never again curse the ground because of man, for the intention of man’s heart is evil from his youth'” (Genesis 8:21).

He reminds HIMSELF, that though what we deserve is eternal death, the truly just thing is to remain faithful to His promises.

That rainbow…it’s not a covenant reminder for us, it’s a reminder for HIM.

“When I bring clouds over the earth and the bow is seen in the clouds, I will remember my covenant that is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh” (Genesis 9:14-15).

I am floored. I am Noah. I am drunk and passed out, unworthy of such a promise. His covenant is so good, because we are so NOT.

It’s not about how great Noah was for all his years of waiting. The point is not to assess these biblical greats as impressive, or dare I say, to encourage myself to be more like them. The point is that God is the one who is above all and through all the hero, the legend, the impressive one. So yes, in the end, FINALLY, we get to the good part, though still a hard pill to swallow when chased with my selfish pride …HE IS FAITHFUL.

Pastor Appreciation Month…To my “Pastor Husband”.

October 27, 2015 — 5 Comments

I don’t know if a “Pastor Husband” is at all like a “Sister Wife”, but I do know that having a husband who happens to also be your pastor is unique. October is Pastor Appreciation Month, and what better way to appreciate my pastor than by writing a letter of thanks for all that my husband does…as I see it from my inside perspective.

Dear “Pastor Husband”,

Words cannot express how grateful I am for you, not only as my husband, but also as my pastor. I am perhaps the most opinionated and verbose member of your congregation. I know that I often critique the sermons and have my own lengthy speeches about where God is leading the church. So, thanks for putting up with me. I appreciate that you listen to me, value my insights, and treat me (as hard as it may be sometimes) as a valuable member of the Body. I also thank you for not always doing as I suggest. I am thankful that while you listen to me, Jesus has the final say. I greatly appreciate your leadership and ability to filter through the Spirit.

Thank you for not only leading the church, but also leading our family. You are not only the lead repenter in the pulpit, but also in our home (usually around kids’ bedtime:) ). Thank you for teaching us about grace, humility, and trust. We are grateful that what you say on Sunday morning is a reflection of what you say Monday through Saturday at home. We love seeing Jesus work through you and “on you” as you prepare to teach others about Him and love others as He does. I wouldn’t know what to do if the man I saw on Sunday was someone other than the man I see brush his teeth every morning. Thank you for being authentic and letting your call to be a pastor start with your call to be in relationship with Jesus, followed closely by your call as husband and father.

From my seat at the dinner table, I see day in and day out, that your job is more than mere means to put food on the table for us. You carry the weight of the world on your shoulders through the work that you do. The compassion of Jesus flows through you, and the people within our church are not simply coworkers, clients, or consumers. They are family. Their troubles and trials often don’t leave your mind once you come home at the end of the day. It is the Jesus in you, that makes your job a 24-hour-on-call vocation. Sometimes even when your body is present, your heart might be engaged with the hearts of the people. Let’s be honest, I am not always appreciative of this. But, I take this opportunity to acknowledge that this challenge comes with the job, and if you didn’t struggle to stop caring for others, I’d probably find that alternative pretty disturbing. 🙂

Thank you for loving our church in this way. And as your wife, I thank you for loving our marriage, our children, and our family at home even more. I know the sacrifices you make to serve the church…I often experience them with you. The struggle is real, and I acknowledge that your call to love the church and to also love your wife and family can get complicated. I thank you for turning to Jesus in these times. I thank you for not abandoning us–trusting Jesus with His church–and in turn, being faithful to your call as a husband, father, and pastor.

I get it, Love. I’ve not just seen the emotional roller coaster that is full-time ministry, I’ve been along for the ride. And I am proud to sit next to you as the ups and downs come. I am thankful that while it gets scary, challenging, stressful, and heavy-hearted at times, we are still able to hold hands and scream a little. It’s tough, but you are doing an amazing job simply holding on tight to Jesus as the ride continues. He has joy for you on this ride…He really, really does.

Be encouraged, dear “Pastor Husband…”

“And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up” (Galatians 6:9).

For the days when you feel God’s call is too heavy, too great, or too much, know that as your wife and children (and congregational members), we stand with you. Know that when your spirit is grieved by the sins of the church, of your family, or your own failures, there is always hope for God’s people. The Israelites acknowledged their sin and asked their leader Ezra to make a covenant with the Lord on their behalf, promising to turn from their sinful ways. They said to Ezra, “Arise, for it is your task, and we are with you; be strong and do it.” (Ezra 10:4). Thank you for being our Ezra, for having the tough task of leading us to repentance and helping us have hope in the promises of Jesus. Thank you for being strong. Thank you for doing it. We stand with you. We love you. We thank you for answering His call.

POST SERIES: NOAH…LESSON FOUR: Waiting…BLEH…

October 22, 2015 — Leave a comment

BLEH…I’ve been putting off this next Noah post. I wish I could say that my procrastination has been a well thought-out plan to impose a period of waiting on those following. But, 1) I’m not that brilliant, and 2) I doubt anyone out there has been losing sleep because the next Noah post hasn’t appeared in their inbox.

It’s been plain procrastination…and honestly, I’m simply tired talking about waiting. It is super uncomfortable to suppose that the Lord of all creation wants me to wait…not just once, but over and over again. He is continually putting me through various seasons of waiting and the story of Noah only confirms that this is sometimes how God works.

It really is plain and simple. His timing is nothing like mine. There is really no point in trying to explain it, because it’s inexplainable. There’s no purpose in comprehending it, because it’s incomprehensible.

This morning, as I sat down to write, a little two-year-old entered the room with a Thomas the Tank Engine book asking for a “choo-choo movie.”

“Okay,” I said, “Let Mommy finish this one sentence.”

Tears. Lots and lots of tears.

“Just wait…”, I said.

He has no concept of the word, ‘wait’. To him, the word is synonymous with ‘no’.

Being the observant and understanding parent that I am, (I wish you could see my sarcastic smirk on your screen), I led him through some questions of logic to teach him:

“Do you want to watch a train movie?”

He nodded his head.

“Okay. Mommy says, ‘yes, you can watch a train movie.'”

He smiled.

“Now, did Mommy say, ‘yes’?”

He nodded.

“Okay, just wait a bit and Mommy will help start it.”

TEARS.

Obviously, I wasn’t connecting. He could not understand or comprehend my timing or my request for him to wait…for literally a matter of seconds. What was seconds for me, was an indescribable, apparently body-convulsing, life-shattering, traumatic amount of time for him.

Am I the same way with my Father? What is seconds for Him, is an excruciating amount of torturous time for me?

As I look once again at the story of Noah, especially Genesis 7 and 8, where I left off in the last post, there are many references to time. So many in fact, that I had to get out two sheets of paper and map a timeline to wrap my mind around the account.

The timing must be important, because dates are mentioned down to the month and day. For instance, the rain started when Noah was 600 years, 2 months, and 17 days old. That’s extremely specific.

We easily remember that it rained for 40 days and nights. (Probably because we’ve set that information to a tune.) But my timeline uncovers that the earth was waterlogged for 150 days, roughly 5 months! After those 5 months, the waters only started to recede. Then the ark rested on Mount Ararat…for approximately 3 more months before other mountains were visible. Another 40 days pass before Noah sent out the raven and the dove. Another week passed before the dove returned with the olive branch. Then another week before the dove was sent and didn’t return. Noah waited yet another week after that before it was determined that the surface of the earth was completely dry.

Altogether, from the first day of rain until complete dryness, the whole ordeal on the boat lasted about 1 year and 10 days. The bible is specific about this. When the rain started to fall and Noah boarded the ark, he was 600 years, 2 months, and 17 days old. When the land was completely dry, he climbed out at the age of 601 years, 2 months, and 27 days.

Noah had to wait over and over again.

Can you imagine?

Feeling the wind pick up, watching the clouds roll in…that first ominous roll of thunder on Day 1? Shoveling goat poo, yet again, listening to the rain fall outside on Day 19? (Not even halfway through the storm yet?) On Day 90, after the rain had stopped, to have not even yet seen a glimpse of the waters receding? Then after 5 months of being on the boat, finally resting on a mountain…the rocking finally ceasing and the subsequent struggle for land-legs and equilibrium to return…only to sit for almost another 3 months on a peak surrounded by water?

Then more and more waiting…waiting on birds. How seemingly small and powerless. When that first dove was released, can you imagine the excitement and hope Noah and his family must have felt, feeling so close to getting off that stinkin’ boat…only to be disappointed and told to wait, yet again.

Noah had to wait over and over again.

I sit speechless…

All the waiting experienced by Noah forces me to realize that I, like a toddler, don’t understand waiting. I often mistake it for a “no”.

I often labor and complain over long periods of waiting, that in the grand scheme of things, are mere nanoseconds of His intentionality.

I have to rest on my own mountains surrounded by water to realize my dependency on God and His timing. He ordains the rain. He tells the sun when to rise and set. My job is to sit on the boat, look out at the water, and wait. (BLEH)

Job 37:4-6 says, “After it his voice roars; he thunders with his majestic voice, and he does not restrain the lightnings when his voice is heard. God thunders wondrously with his voice; he does great things that we cannot comprehend. For to the snow he says, ‘Fall on the earth,’ likewise to the downpour, his mighty downpour.”

I imagine the thunder and the lightening during those first 40 days and nights of rain. “He does great things we cannot comprehend”…

…great things like forcing us to wait in His downpour. His mighty downpour.

POST SERIES: NOAH…Lesson Three: A Working Covenant

October 6, 2015 — 1 Comment

“‘Make a roof for the ark, and finish it to a cubit above, and set the door of the ark in its side. Make it with lower, second, and third decks. For behold, I will bring a flood of waters upon the earth to destroy all flesh in which is the breath of life under heaven. Everything that is on the earth shall die. But I will establish my covenant with you, and you shall come into the ark, you, your sons, your wife, and your sons’ wives with you. And of every living thing of all flesh, you shall bring two of every sort into the ark to keep them alive with you. They shall be male and female. Of the birds according to their kinds, and of the animals according to their kinds, of every creeping thing of the ground, according to its kind, two of every sort shall come in to you to keep them alive. Also take with you every sort of food that is eaten, and store it up. It shall serve as food for you and for them.’ Noah did this; he did all that God commanded him” (Genesis 6:16-22).

There is a man in the Netherlands who had a nightmare in 1992. Johan Huibers dreamt that his low-lying country would flood. As a result, He decided to create a working half-sized replica of the ark that would tour the canals, not to escape a devastating flood, but rather to lead people to see God through the story of Noah. Years later, in 2008, he began a 3-year project to build a full-scale replica. Today, this Dutchman’s “bible museum” contains life-size plastic animals, a petting zoo, a theater, sleeping quarters, a restaurant, and a conference room.

Can you imagine?

“Honey, I had the craziest dream last night.”

“Hmm….”, as she stirs her coffee and rubs her eyes at the kitchen island.

“I think the boys and I should build an ark…We could devote the rest of our life to it’s construction, fill it with animals, and then wait for God to do something with it…what do ya think?”

“Oh, okay, dear…”

WHAT?!?!

Reading the specific directions of God to Noah in the verses above (which included a promise of death), then hearing of this crazy Dutchman pushes me outside my comfort zone. Both men heard God and obeyed.

What has God been asking of me…and am I willing to obey? What if His instructions end with “and there will be certain death for everything around you…”?

Back up…like this man in the Netherlands, am I even willing to entertain my dreams? Am I willing to consider that God has legitimately spoken to me in my sleep?

Lately, our house has been filled with dreams. Early this week, 50% of our children ended up in our room at some point having had a nightmare. Over the past month, both Paul and I have been having dreams…and not flying-naked-down-the-middle-school-hallway-on-finals-week-after-realizing-you-forgot-to-attend-the-class-all-semester kind of dreams.

We’ve been having prolific holy-cow-there’s-no-denying-that-was-from-God kind of dreams. (Now, we haven’t gone all Dutchman on those dreams). Needless to say, Noah, Huibers, and these dreams have been challenging me. They’ve been pushing the boundaries of my belief, my preset limits on God’s modern day communication methods, and my line-in-the-sand markings on reasonableness and comfort.

I’ve often read the end of verse 17, “Everything that is on the earth shall die,” and thought that must have been incredibly scary to hear. How fear-filled Noah must have been! How terrified his wife must have been!

However, this go around, I read the verses above and wonder if Noah was terrified at all. God spoke to Noah.

In the midst of chaos and a world gone mad…God spoke to Noah. He gave him some specific directions. He warned him that it was about to get rough, real rough…like everyone-is-about-to-die-rough.

Rather than be filled with trepidation and fear, I now wonder if Noah was filled with the peace of a grandiose God who was relational enough to speak, give instruction, and give a “head’s up” about what was coming.

Of course, God doesn’t end his words to Noah with doom and gloom. He makes a strange covenant with Noah: “But I will establish my covenant with you, and you shall come into the ark, you, your sons, your wife, and your sons’ wives with you”…and then on and on about animals and such. At first glance, God’s covenant looks like nothing more than additional directions. He doesn’t say: “I will save you”…”I will keep you out of harm’s way”…”I promise to never ask you to do such an outlandish and crazy thing ever again.” He gives more instruction. YOU and your family will come into the ark, YOU will gather a whole bunch of animals and food, and YOU will keep them alive.

As soon as God tells Noah to build an ark because He’s about to wreck the place, He “promises” that He will ask more of Noah.

This rubs me all kinds of wrong.

Our family’s midnight dreams of late have not been pie-in-the-sky visions of the future. They have most assuredly included the promise of some heavy lifting and intense rain. Noah was given instructions for monumental manual labor and then told that his neighbors, the trees in his backyard, everything and everyone apart from his family would be destroyed…then he was asked to do MORE! And he still obeyed!

Nowhere do we read that Noah pulled a “Moses” and argued with God to save the people. He didn’t go all “Jonah” and try to escape the responsibility and call laid before him. He didn’t try his own way, fail, and then run away to hide like Adam and Eve. He simply obeyed. He followed the directions and got to work.

Noah was asked to DO, not to pray about it or cry about it.

Mysteriously hidden in his to-do list from God, in a very ambiguous and implied manner, rests a covenant promise. Therefore, Noah trusted and obeyed.

Here’s my main struggle with this: I want a better promise. I want a clearer covenant. I want to know that after all the building, herding, raining, and waiting I will get to have a little farmhouse away from it all…with cute restored furniture, chickens, and a sweet pool…and my children will all learn to play a musical instrument and have their own band…and our neighbors will trade us homemade wine for eggs. That’s what I want. I want the promises made to me to be as clearly outlined as the details of what is being asked of me. God gave Noah no such promises, just detailed directions.

I want a clean cut covenant that caters to me, not a mystified one that only asks me to do more.

I wrestle with this Genesis passage because God doesn’t seem to work my way. However, He must still be trustworthy, because Noah trusted and obeyed…even when the covenant seemed to promise nothing but more work. I’ve got no resolution to the friction between the promise I want and the promise God gives.

After a month of strange dreams and aggravating Noah study, I am only left with this thought:

If God can push through my pre-drawn conceived notions of Him, than surely He can push past my wildest expectations of Him. Therefore, I trust and obey, even if the only covenant promise I hear Him speak is a command for more.

ANGIE GOEKE

Life After Rehab