“O death, where is your victory?

O death, where is your sting?”

1 Corinthians 15:55

The pain of crucifixion by man,

unbearable.

The pain of being forsaken by the Father,

unfathomable.

The nails that held his body,

unthinkable.

The love that held him there,

“so amazing, so divine. Demands my life, my soul, my all.”

One year of trying. One year of failing. One year of encouraging. One year of prodding. Sometimes gently. Sometimes a little too strong. Lord, forgive me. But it has all been worth it.

A lazy afternoon.  I’m tired on this Sunday.  It’s been a long morning.  But warmer weather is sneaking into March eager for spring, and so is my daughter as she tugs on my leg wanting to go outside.

Out we go.  But only to do one thing we’ve been doing this year.

Mastering that two-wheel bike.

We’re not much of a bike culture on this side of the western world.  Unless it’s a Harley Davidson, of course.  And I don’t ride my bike to work that often. Unless, a stroke of insanity dances across my brain.  It did one day.  So I took out my bike worn from its college days and whispered, “It’s just you and me baby.”  To the road we flew taking the route I am so familiar with each morning.  The freedom.  The thrill.  The work.  Now I’m sweating.  And complaining.  Will I get there?

But there’s no complaining from my daughter on this day. Or this side of the western world.  She wants to ride her bike.  She wants to stare down that asphalt that has taken skinned knees.  But most importantly she wants to know.  Do I have her back?

Yes I do sweetheart.

Will you catch me if I fall?

Yes.

Will you help me as I ride?

Yes.

Do you think I can do this?

Yes. And I will be running alongside of you never taking my eye off of you.

She grips the handlebars.  The white around her knuckles shows.  Relax.  She takes a deep breath.  She straps on the helmet of her salvation, protecting her skull.  Bludgeoning from the rock-hard pavement is not in the schedule today.

And not on my watch.

She’s ready.

We set out along the driveway.  I hold her shoulders. She begins to pedal.  I’m holding. Running.  She wobbles with the wheel.  My grip is firm. She’s pedaling.  I’m running. Faster.  And it happens so fast. Time stops.

I’m no longer holding. She’s riding.

I keep running.  I’m cheering her on. But she’s focused. She hasn’t taken this one year on just to share a few moments of glory on the driveway.  The road is on her sights.

I’m breathing faster. Running beside her. Holding my hands out just in case.  She turns.  The road is hers. No turning back. I cheer out loud.  Who cares about the neighbors right now.  I want the whole world to hear.

I watch her ride.  The wind whipping her hair. Her legs pumping the pedals.  And the joy that spreads to her heart as she glides into the sunset.  One year rolling by.

On this side of the western world.

But there’s another world.  I want to ride. I want to gaze into the bright Son and feel His presence, like the wind hitting my face.  But I still ask. Do you have my back?

Yes.

Will you catch me if I fall?

Yes.

Will you help me as I ride?

Yes.

Do you think I can do this?

Yes. And I will be running alongside of you never taking my eye off of you.

It’s getting pretty warm outside.  And with the warmer weather comes the bane of my yard… weeds.  However, I thought this article by Paul Tripp on tending the weeds of our own soul, especially as it relates to the people we love and serve, was quite appropriate for anyone… at any season.

-Justin Taylor breaks down what happened and offers very thorough and wise reflection…

-Thabiti Anyabwile offers a brave and passionate response why he is disappointed…

-Tim Raymond explains how the Elephant Room can be a danger to redefining the pastoral office…

-Kevin DeYoung offers seven thoughts on the event (very poignant)…

“By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing where he was going. By faith he went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise.”    ~Hebrews 11:8-9

As I read today from Genesis and a cross-reference passage from Hebrews (the passage quoted above), the Lord impressed this hard upon me… it should not be of our concern where we are going when God calls us to obey that gives us assurance of faith, but with whom is going with us: God himself.  By faith Abraham obeyed.  Not because he trusted he knew where he was going. It says, “he went out, not knowing where he was going.” No, he obeyed because he trusted in the one He knew who was going with him.  That’s what mattered.  Not where, but with whom is going with him.  God. His faith was in God and His character.  Oh, to trust Him more.  It’s my prayer this morning and for our church today.

Sometimes people ask authors, “Which of your books is your favorite?” The first time the question is asked, the response is likely to be “I am not sure; I have never really thought about it.” But forced to think about it, my own standard response has become, “I am not sure what my favorite book is; but my favorite title is A Heart for God.” I am rarely asked, “Why?” but (in case you ask) the title simply expresses what I want to be: a Christian with a heart for God.

Perhaps that is in part a reflection of the fact that we sit on the shoulders of the giants of the past. Think of John Calvin’s seal and motto: a heart held out in the palm of a hand and the words “I offer my heart to you, Lord, readily and sincerely.” Or consider Charles Wesley’s hymn: 

                  O for a heart to praise my God!
A heart from sin set free.

Some hymnbooks don’t include Wesley’s hymn, presumably in part because it is read as an expression of his doctrine of perfect love and entire sanctification. (He thought it possible to have his longing fulfilled in this world.) But the sentiment itself is surely biblical.

But behind the giants of church history stands the testimony of Scripture. The first and greatest commandment is to love the Lord our God with all our heart (Deut. 6:5). That is why, in replacing Saul as king, God “sought out a man after his own heart” (1 Sam. 13:14), for “the Lord looks on the heart” (16:7). It is a truism to say that, in terms of our response to the gospel, the heart of the matter is a matter of the heart. But truism or not, it is true.

What this looks like, how it is developed, in what ways it can be threatened, and how it expresses itself will be explored little by little in this new column. But at this stage, perhaps it will help us if we map out some preliminary matters in the form of a catechism on the heart:

Q.1. What is the heart?
A. The heart is the central core and drive of my life intellectually (it involves my mind), affectionately (it shapes my soul), and totally (it provides the energy for my living).

Q.2. Is my heart healthy?
A. No. By nature I have a diseased heart. From birth, my heart is deformed and antagonistic to God. The intentions of its thoughts are evil continually.

Q.3. Can my diseased heart be healed?
A. Yes. God, in His grace, can give me a new heart to love Him and to desire to serve Him.

Q.4. How does God do this?
A. God does this through the work of the Lord Jesus for me and the ministry of the Holy Spirit in me. He illumines my mind through the truth of the gospel, frees my enslaved will from its bondage to sin, cleanses my affections by His grace, and motivates me inwardly to live for Him by rewriting His law into my heart so that I begin to love what He loves. The Bible calls this being “born from above.”

Q.5. Does this mean I will never sin again?
A. No. I will continue to struggle with sin until I am glorified. God has given me a new heart, but for the moment He wants me to keep living in a fallen world. So day by day I face the pressures to sin that come from the world, the flesh, and the Devil. But God’s Word promises that over all these enemies I can be “more than a conqueror through him who loved us.”

Q.6. What four things does God counsel me to do so that my heart may be kept for Him?
A. First, I must guard my heart as if everything depended on it. This means that I should keep my heart like a sanctuary for the presence of the Lord Jesus and allow nothing and no one else to enter.

Second, I must keep my heart healthy by proper diet, growing strong on a regular diet of God’s Word — reading it for myself, meditating on its truth, but especially being fed on it in the preaching of the Word. I also will remember that my heart has eyes as well as ears. The Spirit shows me baptism as a sign that I bear God’s triune name, while the Lord’s Supper stimulates heart love for the Lord Jesus.

Third, I must take regular spiritual exercise, since my heart will be strengthened by worship when my whole being is given over to God in expressions of love for and trust in Him.

Fourth, I must give myself to prayer in which my heart holds on to the promises of God, rests in His will, and asks for His sustaining grace — and do this not only on my own but with others so that we may encourage one another to maintain a heart for God.

This — and much else — requires development, elaboration, and exposition. But it can be summed up in a single biblical sentence. Listen to your Father’s appeal: “My son, give Me your heart.”

But then I perused the latest news and saw once again that Europe has been busy overnight as well. The latest from Bloomberg said that “France sold 7.96 billion euros ($10.2 billion) of debt, with 10-year borrowing costs rising in the country’s first bond auction of the year as credit-rating companies threaten to cut the nation’s AAA grade.”  Does anyone know what that means?  Please translate that, merci!

Final straw.  It was at that point of frustration that I decided to devote only 10 minutes to settling this.  So, I went to the source that is 1,000 miles wide with information and only 1 inch thick in depth with understanding: the internet.

Here are my results and hopefully it well help you in understanding the European financial crises.  The first is from New York Times, and appropriately named, “Translating the European Crisis, in Plain English“. The other, which surprisingly references the New York Times article (I must have been on to something…), is from a Christian perspective prying into the moral and ethical causes of the crises and factors that influenced it.  It’s called, “Productive for the Glory of God, Good of Neighbors“. And of course, Khan Academy, made honorable mention… But, he went beyond my 10 minutes.

In the midst of it all, praise be to God that He who is sovereign over all creation is sovereign over all nations.  May we be good stewards. Now go outside and get those shoes muddy.

From Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening devotional…

“For your sakes he became poor.”—2 Corinthians 8:9.

Th Lord Jesus Christ was eternally rich, glorious, and exalted; but “though He was rich, yet for your sakes He became poor.” As the rich saint cannot be true in his communion with his poor brethren unless of his substance he ministers to their necessities, so (the same rule holding with the head as between the members), it is impossible that our Divine Lord could have had fellowship with us unless He had imparted to us of His own abounding wealth, and had become poor to make us rich. Had He remained upon His throne of glory, and had we continued in the ruins of the fall without receiving His salvation, communion would have been impossible on both sides. Our position by the fall, apart from the covenant of grace, made it as impossible for fallen man to communicate with God as it is for Belial to be in concord with Christ. In order, therefore, that communion might be compassed, it was necessary that the rich kinsman should bestow his estate upon his poor relatives, that the righteous Saviour should give to His sinning brethren of His own perfection, and that we, the poor and guilty, should receive of His fulness grace for grace; that thus in giving and receiving, the One might descend from the heights, and the other ascend from the depths, and so be able to embrace each other in true and hearty fellowship. Poverty must be enriched by Him in whom are infinite treasures before it can venture to commune; and guilt must lose itself in imputed and imparted righteousness ere the soul can walk in fellowship with purity. Jesus must clothe His people in His own garments, or He cannot admit them into His palace of glory; and He must wash them in His own blood, or else they will be too defiled for the embrace of His fellowship.
O believer, herein is love! For your sake the Lord Jesus “became poor” that He might lift you up into communion with Himself.

Then enjoy the read… and please, no mushrooms as a gift.

Yes, it’s Halloween and it’s also… Reformation Day!  Last year, I dressed up as Martin Luther (head shaved like a monk and the whole shabang), but no promises this year!

If you don’t know what Reformation Day is, well then, if you’re a Christian, you better get to know your roots!  It was on this day October 31st, 1517 that is credited as the unofficial start of the reformation of the church, the recovery of the gospel, and a call back for the church to stand alone on the authority of the Scriptures, when Martin Luther nailed his 95 theses (or concerns) to a church door (a common practice by the way for public community announcements).

Justin Holcomb from the Resurgence has a great overview of the 95 theses and the hammer heard around the world… Read it here.

So when the devil throws your sins in your face and declares that you deserve death and hell, tell him this: “I admit that I deserve death and hell, what of it? For I know One who suffered and made satisfaction on my behalf. His name is Jesus Christ, Son of God, and where he is there I shall be also!”

— Martin Luther

Very thorough post by the Resurgence on the origins of Halloween and good advice in helping you decide how you should respond as a Christian to this nationwide event.  Here’s a quote from the article…

Halloween has an uneasy history with the church; Christians have not always been sure what to do with a holiday of apparently pagan origins. Is Halloween unredeemable, such that any Christian participating in the holiday will necessarily compromise their faith? Is it something Christians can participate in as a cultural celebration with no religious ramifications? Or is there the opportunity for Christians to emphasize certain aspects of our own faith within the holiday?

Read the whole article here.

a) been busy

b) face-t0-face relationships won over the computer screen

c) studying the Word pulled me away

d) God’s been pursuing me

e) All of the above

I just circled “e”…

Enjoy!

—————————————————————————————-

The ocean will not win.  I’m skilled with my daughter’s sand toys.  The sun will not win. I have my sunblock (30 protection, might I add).  The sand will not win. I have my blankets lined up.

I am prepared.

A bumblebee floats by our beach umbrella.  It thinks it’s a giant flower. Jackpot. Oh, how he is mistaken.  Foolish bumblebee.

But I’m not by the umbrella.  I’m by the water. Staring down the ocean wide and squinting.  The ocean playfully winks at me with each reflecting ray of sunlight.  I start to dig.  Just give me a bucket and a plastic shovel, and sand can be no match.  But I’m not making a sandcastle with gothic drip towers.  I want something big.  A foxhole.  A fort.  The kids cheer.

I will make them something they will be proud of when their older.  As I begin, the seawater foam sizzles and playfully licks my heels.  The sand crabs burrow, but the ocean tide does not fear.  The tide is rising.  It always does.  It remembers.  It remembers the Flood when it swallowed mountains and valleys.  It breathes back and forth with each rising tide remembering what it once chewed.

I will not let the ocean win.  Not yet.

Around the island, not too far from where I build, is a cove called Teach’s Hole.  A pirate named Blackbeard made it his hideout.  Now it’s his graveyard.  Blackbeard kept the beard, but lost his head in a sword battle.  At this same cove are rocks and pilings.  It once supported a building.  Who knows what.  But now it slowly wears down with each corroding wave of water splashing against it.  It changes color in the heat of the sun. And below in the pilings, where my kids walk with bare feet, are hermit crabs.  Of course, three hitched a ride back home with us, while the others bought their time.  They soon will be washed away.

But we’ll all be washed away eventually. I might not lose my head, but I’ll lose the color of my hair. I’ll be battered by each passing wave.  My skin will change color, stretch, and submit to its battle with gravity.

But today my skin is prepared.  The sun won’t win.  Even while I dig and my back is exposed to the blistering rays.  I have sunblock.  But it somehow ends up burning us anyway, doesn’t it?  And our wallets too.  It’s amazing how expensive it is these days.  Sunblock companies end up winning with a boat load of cash.  But we’ll all revolt next year against the companies and boycott their sunblock.  How won’t we get burned you say? We’ll buy beach umbrellas.  A beach covered in umbrellas.  Not one part of sand that does not have shade. Yes, I know. It won’t work.  The Beach Umbrella company ends up winning.  Who’s in control here?

Not me, and not any of us.  We’re never really in control.  I live now, but decay will catch me.  I make sand forts, but I know the ocean tide is coming. So for now, until the day comes when I close my eyes and rest my bones in the Creator’s hands, I will make sand forts for my children. Other children. His children. His glory.

So I continue. Sand is flying everywhere.  I’m digging faster than a sand crab. The sand won’t win against me in this hour. The man in green socks next to me thinks so too.  I mean, why else would he be wearing green socks on the beach?  He thinks sand won’t get in (but it does).

My muscles are aching now.  Sweat and sand are mixing together. I feel like I have sandpaper in between my armpits.  I have to wash off.  The sand has won.

But the ocean will not.

Before I jump in the water, my wife shows me that she has won against the sun with her shield of white cream. But the ocean had won. Her bathing suit strap broke by a wave. I say, “that wave won’t bother me!”  I heroically dive into the ocean.

With my sunglasses on.

The ocean swallows them and they are never to be seen again.  I find out that many others in the water have surrendered their sunglasses to the mighty watery beast.  The ocean has won.  It is remembering the Flood. Oh how I was mistaken.  I should have listened to the bumblebee.  I can hear him saying, “Foolish human.”

I’m back to building the sand fort.  Fort Bragg would be jealous.  It is finished. We have tunnels, walkways, and three-tiered levels.  Now we watch and play chicken with the ocean.

It is not intimidated.

The water comes up.  The fort is safe.  Again.  The walls and tunnels hold.  The children yell and laugh.  The water rolls away.  And then it comes again.  With a vengeance. The ocean has won.  The tunnel collapses, the walkways are flattened and all is left is a great sand dimple.

And three extremely proud and joyful children.

I will swim with the ocean, but only by rolling with the waves. I will live under the scorching heat of the sun, but I am aware I will be burned from time to time.  I will live in sand walls, in fact, we all do.  And they will one day be torn away. Only that soul that rests on the Rock and clings there like a barnacle can find safety from the coming Flood.

But till then, I swim far.  Out to the deep.  With one of my children.  The ocean has taken our fort.  It has taken my sunglasses.

But it will not take my child.

We laugh and play.  The waves lick and slap our cheeks as we bounce over every rolling wave.  Yes, the ocean has taken my sunglasses, but it has not taken my child.

Instead, it has given us memories. Thank you God.