Showing posts with label chosen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chosen. Show all posts

Friday, November 12, 2021

BANNER

 My husband likes to glean fruit (to have and to share) after workers have gone through an orchard. He always calls the owner or field man ahead for permission. And that's what happened one early fall day when he told me, “The apples are calling my name.” As a shortie, I'm not much of an apple picker, so I rode along for the outing (a break that we all need in these Covid times) planning to wait in the truck. As I looked out the truck's window down the row of trees, these words came to mind:

His banner over me is love. (Song of Solomon 2:4)

Backstory: The king (presumably Solomon) had found a beautiful commoner whom he wanted to marry. Let's say the hormones bubbled! Don't worry, I won't get into all the veiled (and R-rated) “love” metaphors in this book about human love. But because it's also an analogy of God's extravagant love for me (us), it has phrases worth thinking about it. This is one.

Commentators have a lot of ideas of how to explain the symbolism of this book. Here's what I've decided. Brought to the palace, she felt out of place among all the beauty and finery there. But he tried to assure her that this was to be her rightful place. As he took her to the banquet hall (where all the extravagant celebrations were held), she felt unworthy. But quickly she realized that her connection to him—that he had chosen her—gave her the right to be there. “The banner” could have been the canopy over his throne or as the accepting gesture of his arm over her shoulders. It has a double meaning of the canopy commonly held over a bride and groom in a Jewish wedding.

But Solomon's “song” doesn't stand alone. Jesus said His bride would be the church. He covers us with His amazing love. He pulls out the chair for us to sit at His banquet table. Who'd scoot the chair away from the Master's table and run for the nearest exit? Yet people do.

Back to the apple orchard. As late afternoon came, darkening the shade of the tree canopy, it was harder to see to the end of the row. But the banner of limbs and leaves did not obscure the destination. Along that path there was still work to do—at least for my husband who spotted and plucked the left-behind apples.

Jesus said the harvest is plentiful but the workers are few (Matthew 9:37). We don't have to go to a foreign mission field to locate a harvest. It's all around us, even in places where it seems the harvest for souls is done. It's not. Wounded, broken people abound, still needing to experience His banner of love.

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Perhaps in reading this you're remembering a children's Sunday school song that uses hand motions. Children may not understand the depth of the words they sing, but in time their faith can mature--like those apples on the tree. Here's one based on the Song of Solomon passage:

his banner over me is love - Bing

Friday, September 11, 2020

CHOSEN


I’m “choosy” when I pick blueberries. I can’t “milk” all the berries off one branch because they ripen at different times. So  I have to watch as I reach under the leaves and thumb off just the ones with a darker blue gleam, leaving the purple, yellow or green ones to ripen more.

The other day as I was doing this almost mindless task, a snippet of a Bible verse came to mind: “The Lord knows those who are his” (2 Timothy 2:12). It turns out to be a quote from Numbers 16:5, where God had to deal with some rebellious folks who disagreed with the way Moses was handling the Exodus wanderings.  It ends with the rebels getting swallowed up in a horrific earthquake. I wouldn’t call that a “Blueberry Acres” moment. But I think there’s a helpful analogy in this sight of blueberries ripening at their own rate. Christians “ripen” (to use that term for spiritual growth) at different rates, too.

This was Paul’s last preserved letter; not long after, he was led from his prison cell and killed by the Romans. No wonder he was thinking about eternal things and the need to give some final words of advice.  One of its best-known verses is 2 Timothy 2:15:
Do you best to present yourself to God as one approved,  a workman who does not need to be ashamed and who correctly handles the word of truth.
That’s one of the verses that moved Jim Elliot, who called it the “A.U.G” degree—“approved unto God.” This single-minded man went to Ecuador in the 1950s to share the Gospel and was killed by the very people he hoped to tell about Jesus.  What Paul wrote after that verse reveals some of the steps toward the “A.U.G.”:
*Avoiding godless chatter (2:16).  (What would Paul think of the “talk shows”  and the flood of social media today?)
*Being concerned with personal spiritual cleansing (vv. 20-21). 
*Fleeing the culture’s entrapments (“the evil desires of youth,” v. 22) in favor of “righteousness, faith, love and peace.” (Can you see Paul playing today's video games? I can't--for many reasons!)
*Avoiding quarreling and arguing over things that really don’t matter, including misinterpreted issues that the devil can use to distract people from real spiritual truth (vv. 23-26)

Second Timothy is such a poignant letter. When I read it, I want to dwell over each paragraph, grateful that somehow Paul’s wisdom was preserved to encourage millions of Christians thousands of years later. Somehow, he knew things would get worse before they get better: “But mark this: there will be terrible times in the last days” (3:1).  Then he gives a lengthy list of negative behaviors which—sadly—read like a commentary on our times. They’re people who love pleasure rather than God (3:4). They may blend into their communities, but will they ripen for God’s harvest, even though given the chance?