PINING FOR PINES

Dying--not dyed--needles

Proud of his German ancestry, at Christmastime my dad delighted in belting out that culture's legendary circa-1550 holiday song, “O Tannenbaum, O Tannenbaum” [O, Christmas tree, O Christmas Tree]. How fractured his German was, we kids never knew. But he sang it with gusto, typically when he brought home a tree from the local tree lot for us to decorate. Some years, by the time he went tree-shopping, just the scawny “Charlie Brown” trees were left--cheap! Besides, with enough of the family's eclectic decorations, who would discover the tree's emaciated state?

Now, in a revival of those years-ago trends, we're seeing more color-flocked trees. Excuse me, but they remind me of the current hair-dye fad that has men and women sporting “do's” in neon colors of the rainbow. Please, no garish holiday trees. Evergreens should be....green.

Sadly, some trees in my yard are exceptions, random branches turned orange by a fungal scourge called “blight.” Researching cures for that problem, I realize I'm no tree doctor. But my battle with the yard's ailing trees also makes me think twice whenever I read Psalm 1. Now, there's a tree ready for a nature's beauty pageant. It's been nourished well by sun and water. It produces great fruit and is a symbol of prosperity. In contrast would be the tree representing the ungodly, as useless as wind-blown chaff. For a Christmastime analogy, it would be a Charlie Brown tree: just a few scraggly limbs on a wimpy little cross-bar stand.

Another Biblical tree that I find hard to understand is described in Revelation 22. Just what wonder of nature could produce fruit every month (v. 2)? And have leaves full of the medicine to heal nations? With symbols so mysterious and wonderful, we'll have to wait and see until that Day.

Trust me, when that happens we won't be belting out “O Tannenbaum!” No, we'll sing wonderful hymns of praise to God. For He created this marvel called “tree.” During His tenure on earth, His Son walked among them, enjoyed their shade, picked their fruit, and used them for sermon illustrations. Oh, any tree—how lovely are thy branches as they reminder us of our Creator-Provider God!

BLOOM AWAY

During my lifetime I've watched the coming and going, and coming back, of this phrase often put on decor plaques: “Bloom where you are planted.” I was reminded of it the other day as I snatched random weeds growing under the hedge of “Knockout Roses” in our front yard. My husband planted a long line of these brilliant pink roses by the sidewalk in front of our house in honor of his late mother, who loved pink and filled her life and home with that color.

I'm always amazed how desolate they look in the winter. We add further punishment by taking a hedge clipper to the top and sides to shape them. But they roar back, providing color the whole summer. They're not finicky like the “tea roses” that I have to carefully prune and daily deadhead. They just bloom away where they've planted.

Curious about where the “bloom where you are planted” slogan came from, I was surprised to trace it back to St. Francis de Sales (1567-1622), who served as the bishop of Geneva and was respected for his leadership and spiritual walk. He is recorded as saying this: “True charity has no limit; for the love of God has been poured into our hearts by His Spirit dwelling in each one of us, calling us to a life of devotion and inviting us to bloom in the garden where He has planted and directing us to radiate the beauty and spread the fragrance of His Providence” (emphasis added).

The Bible has several commands to be fruitful. The first is God's command to Adam and Eve after Creation (Genesis 1:28). Another compares a fruitful tree to a believer whose trust in God frees him from worries and who never fails to bear fruit (Jeremiah 17:7-8). Psalm 1 has a similar message.

The “bloom” idea goes deeper—against our natural inclinations—later in Jeremiah, where the context is the exile of the Israelites to Babylon. Here they are—captives, far from home, dumped into a foreign land, despised and stripped of hope. There seems no way out. But God tells them: build houses, plant gardens for food, let your kids marry and build families, and....”seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper” (Jeremiah 29:7-8).

That's the same chapter that has the more famous quote about God's plans to prosper them and give them a future and a hope (v. 11-13). But it wouldn't happen if their motto was “gloom where you are planted.” They had to bloom where they were planted. They weren't living in pleasant little bungalows in their native land. They were slaves. But this was what life had to be, now. And their response to bloom instead of  "gloom" would make the difference.

Funny, that advice still makes sense in our thorny world.

Big trees, bigger choice

Continuing a series inspired by sights of Kauai, which we visited on a trip gifted to us.
They’re sometimes called “trees on steroids,” the huge Moreton Bay Fig trees that grow seven times faster in Kauai than in their native Australia.  This tree, growing near the hotel where we stayed, is a youngster next to ones featured in the south-shore Allerton-McBryde botanical gardens. One, called the “Jurassic Tree,” was featured in the dinosaur movie “Jurassic Park,” whose filming began on Kauai in 1992. In the story’s plot, dinosaur eggs were found at its base, and from there ensued the high-drama conflict with wild mega-beasts. I never saw the film, but its theme song (which I heard in an Olympic figure skating competition about that time) was scary enough for me.

Tourists today can find the fictional “egg nest spot” amidst the Jurassic Tree’s huge buttressing roots, many as tall as a person.  These trees can grow to 200 feet high, have evergreen leaves, and impair growth of other trees around them.

Learning that reminded me of two similar passages about trees, one in Psalm 1 and the other in Jeremiah 17. Both tell of trees planted by a water source, unbothered by heat, reliably producing fruit. The analogy is to a believer, grounded in God’s Word, sustained by scripture, and producing spiritual fruit.  Then both swing to the negative:

“Not so the wicked! They are like chaff that the wind blows away.”  (Psalm 1:4)

“The heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it?” (Jeremiah 17:9)

Right now, two trees grow, as it were, in life’s garden. One is good, bountiful, beneficial, made up of Christians who believe they are called to serve their Lord through service to others.  Then there is an unruly tree that strangles anything around it. As Matthew Henry said long ago in his classic commentary:

The heart, the conscience of man, in his corrupt and fallen state, is deceitful above all things. It calls evil good, and good evil; and cries peace to those to whom it does not belong. Herein the heart is desperately wicked; it is deadly, it is desperate.

Calling “evil good, and good evil”—is nothing new? But it’s not a terminal condition. . Those who’ve lived apart from God can turn to Christ. So turning, Henry wrote, gives them “new desires, new pleasures, hopes, fears, sorrows, companions, and employments. [Their] thoughts, words, and actions are changed. [They] enter on a new state, and bear a new character.” 

Psalm 1 ends with the fate of those who reject God:  “perish.” I consider that destination more horrific than an imaginary monster story filmed in Kauai.

Making Psense of Psalms--Psalm 1: Choices

This blog begins a series on selected psalms that are important for believers to better understand. Next week: Psalm 8.

Psalm 1’s familiar phrase, “like a tree planted by streams of water,” comes to mind when I think about this painting hung above our fireplace. The artist was a great aunt who excelled as a painter and organist. She had a large theater organ with a full pedal board in her home—and how she could max its capabilities! More important, she was a godly woman who lived out her faith. Appropriately, the art I received as a gift depicts the first Psalm’s word picture of spiritual faithfulness. The healthy spiritual “tree”:

            *Draws life-giving water from the flowing stream, this analogy foreshadowing Jesus’ proclamation that He is the living water.

            *Yields fruit in season, as a Christian grows in the graces and “fruits” that reveal Christ working in his or her life.

            *Has no withering leaves.  Unlike normal trees, which yield to the seasonal patterns of growth, fruit, dying and dormancy, the Christian has continuous inner renewal.  D.L. Moody was fond of saying, “All the Lord’s trees are evergreen.”

            Beyond the memorable tree metaphor, Psalm 1 speaks plainly about spiritual choices. At first, this bothered me. I would have thought the opening “hymn” of the Jewish songbook would be exuberant praise. But instead of starting with people praising God, it begins with God blessing us. The first word, “blessed,” in Hebrew is actually plural.  Think of it as “truly blessed” or “blessed-blessed-and-blessed-again.”

            Then we’re given a thumbnail of this godly person’s character: avoiding the progressive moral decline of “walking,” “standing,” or “sitting” with sinners. He may befriend the ungodly in his circle of work and influence, but he doesn’t condone or join in their negative activities and attitudes. He is in the world, but he is not of it.

            Next, Psalm 1 tells us how he shores up his convictions: he diligently studies God’s Word. Jerry Bridges remarked in The Practice of Godliness (p. 93): “As we search the Scriptures, we must allow them to search us, to sit in judgment upon our character and conduct.  We must not treat the Scriptures only as a source of knowledge about God, but also as the expression of his will for our daily lives” (p. 93).

            In contrast, the ungodly are like chaff, the worthless straw the wind blows away when grain is threshed. At the end of time, at the eternal judgment that Rev. 20:11-15 calls the “Great White Throne,” they won’t have, as the phrase goes, a leg to stand on. Even if they did some moral good in their lives, this is not a matter of the “good” outweighing the “bad.” If they ignored or spurned Jesus’ offer of salvation, they will be shut out of Heaven.

            The psalm ends where Ephesians 2:8, 9 presents the rest of the story: we’re not saved by anything we do, but by faith in Christ. Then, we are saved to serve Him. As we do, “The Lord watches over the way of the righteous.”

            How should we respond to His blessing and watch-care? With praise, and more praise. And in that way, yes, Psalms begin with a call to praise.

Fake Food

It almost looks like a yummy breakfast, but it’s rocks, polished to look like the real thing. The “rock food” display is an annual favorite in the hobby building of our county fair—courtesy rock and mineral hobbyists. This year, seeing the display reminded me of another physically impossible “eating”—that given in Jeremiah 15:16: “When your words came, I ate them; they were my joy and my heart’s delight, for I bear your name, O LORD Almighty.” This verse, from Jeremiah’s call to be a prophet, was one of the first scriptures I memorized as a new Christian. But I had to think a while about what “eating God’s words” was all about.

 Similar ideas appear elsewhere in the Bible. Manna, the miracle food that fell like dew for 40 years in the wilderness, is often referred to in spiritual terms. Joshua was probably thinking of that when he told the Israelites on the verge of entering the Promised Land, “Do not let this Book of the Law depart from your mouth”  (Joshua 1:8). In other words, the scriptures available to them at that time were to be a daily intake, as manna was in the desert.  Psalm 119:103 continues the analogy: “How sweet are your promises to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth.” Another prophet, Ezekiel (who came  long after Jeremiah) literally ate a scroll, which he found “as sweet as honey” (Ezekiel 3:1-3).

But here’s the truth: not everybody finds God’s word “sweet as honey.” Their relationship with God is not deep enough or growing enough to find delight in God’s Word.  They may say, “Yes, I have a Bible, I even take it to church. Sure, I don’t read much during the week.  Life gets busy, you know. I know enough verses to get the essentials of it.” That’s about on par with licking petrified rocks.  Eventually you starve.

Another way of looking at “eating” God’s word is tucked away in Psalm 1. First, the psalmist commends the man who says “no” to the world’s way of doing life.  Instead, he delights in God’s word, “and on his law he meditates day and night.”  The idea is not that he gives up on sleep, but that he lives in constant desire and pleasure of God-awareness through studying the Bible.  A step deeper on the key word, “meditate”: the Hebrew word, hagah, means “to mediate, moan, growl, utter, speak.”  It’s an onomatopoetic term—in other words, it sounds like somebody groaning or sighing as the ancients used to do. It’s deep thinking that comes out through the throat and tongue. We don’t need any particular posture to hagah, just a desire to yield fully to God. When we read scripture, it’s not to check off so many chapters or verses a day. It’s to read thoughtfully, seeking a message that’s God-tailored for us.

A vibrant Christian walk is incompatible with spiritual malnutrition.  Or, as Francis Chan wrote in Crazy Love: “Lukewarm living and claiming Christ’s name simultaneously is utterly disgusting to God” (p. 103). No licking “rocks.” Instead, seeking Christ, the Bread of Life. 

The new year is always a good time for a spiritual re-evaluation.  If you sense God challenging you to move deeper with Him, that's worth a hagah.

Mushrooms and Psalm 1

Talk about “night visitors”! As I went outside juggling a basket of wet laundry, I almost stepped on some surprise squatters. These brown umbrella disks had popped overnight through some scraggly grass where I’d overwatered. If you didn’t know, a mushroom is a fast-growing fungus that feeds off decaying matter and is common in moist places. I knew they wouldn’t last more than a few days, but went ahead and snapped them away, depositing them in the garbage.  I’d recently studied Psalm 1 and toyed with how verse 3 (about the godly man) would read if mushrooms were substituted for that tree planted by streams of water:

He is like a mushroom that pops up in moist places. He feeds on decay, and in a couple days withers away.

Obviously, the analogy doesn’t work. The psalmist made the perfect analogy to a sturdy fruit tree whose roots grow deep, producing fruit season after season. The application, of course, is sending out deep spiritual roots that will support the growing of spiritual fruit.

This is the growth process J. Oswald Sanders wrote about in The Joy of Following Jesus: “It is the responsibility of the disciple to be the best he or she can be for God.  To please Him is a most worthy aim. He wants us to realize the full purpose of our creation; He does not want us to be content with bland mediocrity” (Moody, 1994, p. 63).

Perhaps it’s because I’m so aware of media addictions that this quote burns into my heart. The “mushroom mentality” feeds on the world’s decay, widely served up enticingly with the click of a computer mouse or a TV remote. Every morning, for example, when I open up my computer’s “home page” to check the weather or start some research, I’m blindsided by what someone thinks is “news” or “trend.” The computer helps me as a writer on spiritual topics, but I could waste hours following cutesy animal videos, celebrity gossip, fashion, sports, games, or personal trivia.

Sanders hit it on the nail: “Many fail to achieve anything significant for God or man because they lack a dominating ambition.  No great task was ever achieved without the complete abandonment to it that a worthy ambition inspires.” How we use our time is a choice—for good or bad. Sanders cited the story of Thomas Scott (1747-1821), who was the low-achiever of his school.  In those days they called him the “dunce.”  Most of his teachers expected little of him.  But someone, somewhere, said something that awakened in him a master ambition.  Slowly, steadily he worked toward it. Sanders continued, “He grew to be a strong and worthy man”—so well-regarded that he succeeded John Newton (former slave trader-turned-believer, best known for “Amazing Grace”) as rector of the church at Aston Sandford.

 

He also wrote a large commentary on the whole Bible that influenced his generation and is still consulted. Scott didn’t achieve that feeding on the decay of the world.  His roots went down deep with God. His life yielded fruit. His leaves didn’t wither. What he did, prospered.

“Mushroom” choices aren’t anything new. The apostle Paul anguished over those he saw in his times, and encouraged stronger believers to help those so entrapped. But he offered a warning for the “helpers” as well: be careful. His counsel in Galatians 6:1 (at right) is a good “screen saver”!

Be careful, little feet

 

When you’re a first-time grandma (or even a first-time parent) you look at the details of that newborn—like feet. You wonder not only when they will walk, but how they will walk. Already I am praying that my newborn grandson, Josiah, will walk in the ways of God.

“Walk” is a good word. It was a good analogy for Bible times, when people mostly walked or rode wagons or animals.  There were no hybrid cars with amazing MPG ratings. Life was hard, one footstep at a time.

Particularly during the forty years of the exodus, Bible-times people lived from step to step. Thus after explaining God’s basic commands for life, Moses exhorted them with a word they knew well: walk. “So be careful to do what the LORD your God has commanded you,” Moses said. “Do not turn aside to the right or to the left. Walk in all the ways that the LORD your God has commanded you, so that you may live and prosper and prolong all your days in the land that you will possess” (Deut. 5:32-33).

Thus a prayer for my grandson: Walk in the noble way of God’s commands. The Ten Commandments are not just “rules.” They are reminders of how we reflect our Creator, the holy One.

Another is in Deuteronomy 10:12-13. Most notable are its verbs of following God: fear the Lord your God, walk in all his ways, love Him, serve the Lord your God will all your heart and with all your soul, observe the Lord’s commands.

Thus for my grandson: Serving God is at the heart of following Him. It’s not all about you.  It’s about responding in love and awe to the Lord your God through participation in His work on earth.

When my life was at turbulent crossroads, I found hope and comfort in another “walk” passage in Isaiah 30:20-21: “Although the Lord gives you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, your teachers will be hidden no more; with your own eyes you will see them. Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, ‘This is the way; walk in it.’”

Again, for my grandson: You’ll encounter people who haven’t a clue about the Lord. They’ll want you to follow their way. Early on, I hope you are encouraged to memorize Psalm 1: “Blessed is the man who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked.” It’s all around us—in the news that elevates the views of  godlessness, in the pressure of peers, and in our natural inclination to think only of ourselves. Listen to that quiet voice of God’s spirit.

In recent years, another “walk” command has become a comfort and a challenge. When the apostle John aged, his personality mellowed as the love of Christ gripped his heart. Thus it is no surprise that “love” pervades his last letters. In the opening section of 1 John, he wrote about those who claim to be Christians but have dark sides to their spirits, lying and failing to follow God’s truth. In contrast, “if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin” (1 John 1:7).

Dear Grandson, walk in love. Stay in God’s light. Never stop being amazed by God’s love in sending Christ to die for your sins.