We are bombarded by news bytes and tidbits throughout the day. We live in the information age. Just checking email, or logging into “whatever-your-space-might-be” yields headline after headline. This morning ’s titles demonstrate the plethora of themes: “Big Oil Company Backs Off ‘Green’ Push,” “Vogue Cover Draws Criticism,” “Is It Time To Sell That Gold?” “Dozens Killed As Iraq Clashes Widen.” Articles are punctuated by advertisements for spring vacations or improving our credit scores. The sacrosanct and the superfluous share the same page, the terrible and the trite.
Amidst the clamor for attention and concern God’s Word seeks a hearing. We have just come through the most significant event in history - the identity forming, faith validating vengeance of Jesus the Victor. He beat death. It’
s not a sports column, not a fashion statement, not an investment strategy.
It is a faith confession.
Faith confessions bear significant prowess in our lives. It’s more than a belief – it is a life-story. Someone could ask us, “Do you believe Stephen Curry is the major force behind Davidson College’s success in the NCAA Tournament?” We could resoundingly say, “Yes, I do!” But we wouldn’t order our lives around the event. The Resurrection is no Cinderella story. It is an existential reality.
Consider the ramifications in us of Christ’s achievement. During Lent we journeyed toward the cross. Thank God, it’s Easter.
Are you like me? It’s easy to allow the story to fade with yesterday’s news – to drop it in the recycle box with last evening’s paper. (Not that it will go away, mind
you.) This is a story that continues to shape whether I let it shape me or not. This is an event of consequence. There is more of the same to come – and Jesus says the more-to-come I will experience on a personal level.
It’s a season for pondering The Victory. Here are some voices that resonate through the ages on the Subject:
“In Christ’s death, death died. Life dead slew death; the fullness of life swallowed up death; death was absorbed in the body of Christ” ~ St.
Augustine**
“For by it [resurrection] righteousness is obtained for us (Rom. 4:24); it is a sure pledge of our future immortality (1Cor. 15); and even now by its virtue we are raised to newness of life, that we may obey God’s will by pure and holy living (Rom. 6:4)” ~ John Calvin**
- Tob Adams
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
The Wounded Redeemer
Twenty yards out the back door of our house lay three small, blue-speckled eggs. Nestled alone amidst rock and rubble the eggs rest in the elements on the ground. We never would have noticed them had it not been for the mother who persevered through last week’s storms roosted on her gravelly nest. She persisted through the rains and standing water.
Each day our kids checked to see if she had stayed. She had. Then one day, the eggs were alone. About ten yards away, the mother poked around with a watchful eye. Leah and Levi wanted to see the eggs. Each time they approached the stony bed, mother bird began limping about with a cock-eyed wing in the air. She squawked and hollered, creating a diversion from her nest of babies.
This bird is called a “killdeer.” They are known for their protective behavior. When a predator approaches her nest, the bird performs a “broken-wing dance” to divert attention away from the babies. Luring the danger toward herself she risks the possibility of escape in order to save her children. The killdeer expresses the concept of a wounded redeemer.
Amazing!
In Scripture there is a model of redemption associated with a scapegoat. As described in Leviticus 16, the priest shall place both hands on the ascribed animal, confess over it all the iniquities and transgressions of the people, and then send it away into the wilderness. The animal, then, carries the infirmities of the community away from the camp. Deliverance comes by removal.
How should I think about this? A model of redemption is being acted out in my backyard by a wild bird! Granted, the eggs themselves have not procured any guilt on themselves…perhaps, though, they demonstrate for us the innocence of the newly redeemed.
The wounded Redeemer is very near to us.
This is Holy Week. This is the time in which we consider the efficacious suffering of our Lord. Hear the Prophet Isaiah:
“Surely he has borne our infirmities and carried our diseases…. he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed. (53:4-5)”
Then, “the righteous one, my servant, shall make many righteous, and he shall bear their iniquities. (53:11)”
The Wounded Redeemer opens broken wings for you.
- Tob Adams
Each day our kids checked to see if she had stayed. She had. Then one day, the eggs were alone. About ten yards away, the mother poked around with a watchful eye. Leah and Levi wanted to see the eggs. Each time they approached the stony bed, mother bird began limping about with a cock-eyed wing in the air. She squawked and hollered, creating a diversion from her nest of babies.
This bird is called a “killdeer.” They are known for their protective behavior. When a predator approaches her nest, the bird performs a “broken-wing dance” to divert attention away from the babies. Luring the danger toward herself she risks the possibility of escape in order to save her children. The killdeer expresses the concept of a wounded redeemer.
Amazing!
In Scripture there is a model of redemption associated with a scapegoat. As described in Leviticus 16, the priest shall place both hands on the ascribed animal, confess over it all the iniquities and transgressions of the people, and then send it away into the wilderness. The animal, then, carries the infirmities of the community away from the camp. Deliverance comes by removal.
How should I think about this? A model of redemption is being acted out in my backyard by a wild bird! Granted, the eggs themselves have not procured any guilt on themselves…perhaps, though, they demonstrate for us the innocence of the newly redeemed.
The wounded Redeemer is very near to us.
This is Holy Week. This is the time in which we consider the efficacious suffering of our Lord. Hear the Prophet Isaiah:
“Surely he has borne our infirmities and carried our diseases…. he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed. (53:4-5)”
Then, “the righteous one, my servant, shall make many righteous, and he shall bear their iniquities. (53:11)”
The Wounded Redeemer opens broken wings for you.
- Tob Adams
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Its the direction, not the paint job...
Traveling south on Highway 37 I followed a minivan for a few miles yesterday afternoon. Before long, I could see that it was once involved in a major accident. It was not an old van, there were no dents, and the paint job still looked great. But a hard impact evidently had slammed the front driver’s side fender, throwing the entire frame out. The body was trying to pull west, but the wheels just kept traveling south. It looked almost as if it was driving sideways down the road.
Driving behind someone gives me the eye of my Dad in a hardware store checking for warped two-by-fours. Hold it up to your eye, examine it close and you can see every bend. We want the straight ones, not the warped ones.
Sideways-headed automobiles remind me of people. He’s been hit hard or she has a major impact in her history. Maybe his body doesn’t show it. Maybe she’s not really that old. Facing the right direction is important…but it’s not everything. What is ultimately important is the direction one actually travels. Some may look like they are headed west, but their feet still endure to travel north. That’s perseverance – and I commend those who press on despite the adversities of their past.
In time, that old minivan’s suffering will compound. If it goes untreated, the out-of-whack frame will wear out the tires, which will create all sorts of vibration that will damage what’s under the hood. With people, too, there is a fundamental framework on which the directions of our life depend. Even though we are pressing on in the right direction, the pull of our lives will wear out the longevity of our journey.
Discerning a need in another’s life is a challenge we should approach cautiously. Some just want the bodywork to look good. Slap some paint on or replace some chrome and hit the road. Rather, God works in our heart – inside our frame. Christ renders our heart pure as it is in alliance with God’s will.
This is the framework befitting life’s journey.
- Tob Adams
Driving behind someone gives me the eye of my Dad in a hardware store checking for warped two-by-fours. Hold it up to your eye, examine it close and you can see every bend. We want the straight ones, not the warped ones.
Sideways-headed automobiles remind me of people. He’s been hit hard or she has a major impact in her history. Maybe his body doesn’t show it. Maybe she’s not really that old. Facing the right direction is important…but it’s not everything. What is ultimately important is the direction one actually travels. Some may look like they are headed west, but their feet still endure to travel north. That’s perseverance – and I commend those who press on despite the adversities of their past.
In time, that old minivan’s suffering will compound. If it goes untreated, the out-of-whack frame will wear out the tires, which will create all sorts of vibration that will damage what’s under the hood. With people, too, there is a fundamental framework on which the directions of our life depend. Even though we are pressing on in the right direction, the pull of our lives will wear out the longevity of our journey.
Discerning a need in another’s life is a challenge we should approach cautiously. Some just want the bodywork to look good. Slap some paint on or replace some chrome and hit the road. Rather, God works in our heart – inside our frame. Christ renders our heart pure as it is in alliance with God’s will.
This is the framework befitting life’s journey.
- Tob Adams
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Love and Winter Weather
A couple weeks ago I wrote about the barrenness of the land during the winter months and its resemblance to a curvaceous grizzly. The shape of the earth reminds us of other living things. Now that the trees are empty and the shrubbery lean, we more easily recognize what has been hidden there in months of warmth and coverage.
I’ve noticed another feature in the absence of foliage.
Take a look at how much is revealed about our human habitats during the winter months. In the summer, trees and bushes, shrubs and brush, plants and flowers fill the landscape. We enjoy shade from the sun. We live under cover. Now that the leaves are gone, our yards are exposed and our buildings are bare. Things like random bricks, pots, and tools rest against sheds, visible to the public. During winter, things are laid barren and naked. Life is much more exposed in these lean months.
Our personalities seem to share this same pattern. Don't we all experience winter at times in our spiritual, personal or family life? When good times are scarce, and means are stretched thin…when life is less than fruitful…our extraneous personality quirks begin to show. We are more exposed in the winter months.
Our eccentricities surface. Consider the metaphors we use: “she wears her heart on her sleeve,” or “he has a chip on his shoulder.” Perhaps when someone’s quirkiness, irritability, or discontent shows it is simply because they are experiencing winter - an emotional, bitter cold.
So the exhortation, here, is not to learn how to hide better…it’s to learn how to love people better in the midst of their peculiarity. We never know what is going on in someone’s life.
I remember a community association that met in our church. A lady attended the meeting for the first time and wanted the association to slap the hands of her neighbors who had failed to keep their yard mowed. The community leader shocked me with her discernment when she carefully, yet pointedly, confronted the disgruntled woman: “This neighborhood association’s purpose is to build relationships, not police one another. Have you ever talked to your neighbor? Do you even know their names?”
Lack of relationship manifests itself in all sorts of dysfunction. “Love your neighbor.”
- Tob Adams
I’ve noticed another feature in the absence of foliage.
Take a look at how much is revealed about our human habitats during the winter months. In the summer, trees and bushes, shrubs and brush, plants and flowers fill the landscape. We enjoy shade from the sun. We live under cover. Now that the leaves are gone, our yards are exposed and our buildings are bare. Things like random bricks, pots, and tools rest against sheds, visible to the public. During winter, things are laid barren and naked. Life is much more exposed in these lean months.
Our personalities seem to share this same pattern. Don't we all experience winter at times in our spiritual, personal or family life? When good times are scarce, and means are stretched thin…when life is less than fruitful…our extraneous personality quirks begin to show. We are more exposed in the winter months.
Our eccentricities surface. Consider the metaphors we use: “she wears her heart on her sleeve,” or “he has a chip on his shoulder.” Perhaps when someone’s quirkiness, irritability, or discontent shows it is simply because they are experiencing winter - an emotional, bitter cold.
So the exhortation, here, is not to learn how to hide better…it’s to learn how to love people better in the midst of their peculiarity. We never know what is going on in someone’s life.
I remember a community association that met in our church. A lady attended the meeting for the first time and wanted the association to slap the hands of her neighbors who had failed to keep their yard mowed. The community leader shocked me with her discernment when she carefully, yet pointedly, confronted the disgruntled woman: “This neighborhood association’s purpose is to build relationships, not police one another. Have you ever talked to your neighbor? Do you even know their names?”
Lack of relationship manifests itself in all sorts of dysfunction. “Love your neighbor.”
- Tob Adams
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