PERSPECTIVE

I've worn eyeglasses since a teenager. Oh, my—back in the 1960s, the styles included frames that swooped up at the outside of the eye, like the taillights of luxury cars. (Other comparisons: a crow taking off from a tree. Or the odd upturned eyebrows of “human-Vulcan” officer “Spock” of movie Star-Trek fame.)

The other day, as I dug out my eyeglass collection—planning to donate the oldies to the little recycle box at my optical shop—a Bible verse came to mind. (Yes, it really did!) It's tucked into John 12, a chapter that's packed-full of events and truths as Jesus approached the dark hours of His death. First, there was a dinner in His honor, one full of awestruck guests (and outside-the-room looky-loos) because the co-host was his friend Lazarus, there breathing and full of life after being raised from the dead.

Though popular with the common people, Jesus was public enemy number one for the chief priests, who wanted Him gone. Jesus was a threat to their life work in the temple, and Lazarus' miracle coming-back-to-life didn't help! Worse, the next day, He was the featured rider of an impromptu parade, complete with celebratory palm-branch waving. The religious leaders were livid.

Enter some Greeks (not Jews) who wanted to know more about this Jesus. They came to one of the disciples, Philip, and said, “Sir, we would like to see Jesus” (John 12:21). Philip didn't lead them to Jesus right away, but instead told Andrew, and together they went to Jesus. His answer wasn't a “sure, bring them to Me,” but a prediction of His death.

Two millennia later, people are still saying, “We want to see Jesus.” The Bible accounts of His life and death aren't enough. They can't make that faith-leap of embracing the One who was both divine and human. They hesitate to respond to the call that Jesus made in beginning His ministry, telling the fishermen who'd hung around him to “Follow me.” As He asks the same of us, we realize this is no glib, sentimental poem-hymn. It's a serious life-changer. We either choose to be blind to His claims, settle for less than perfect spiritual vision, or see clearly that Jesus is indeed the Son of God, and that believing in Him, and following His teachings, will radically change our lives.

And maybe there's another hidden message in all these old glasses I need to recycle. As we grow in faith, our “vision” or perception of spiritual things should sharpen. And someday, as citizens of Heaven, we shall see Him face to face—no “corrective lenses” required!

-------------

The hymn “We Would See Jesus” was written by an Irish-born scholar and Presbyterian minister, whose life included pastoral service in lumber camps and city churches and seminaries, and nearly two decades as a Christian college president. Here's a link to a You-tube performance:

Bing Videos

TRUE REFLECTIONS

Funny thing about mirrors: you both see what you want to see, and what you don't want to see. They're a given in our times, from the cheap hand mirrors you can buy at a dollar store (well, thanks to inflation for a little more than a dollar...) to fancy room mirrors costing hundreds. What would we do without them in our grooming routines! And what would have Fairy-Tale-World have done without the evil queen Grimhilde (whose name means “masked in battle” and implying someone grim and fierce) who consulted her magic talking mirror about who was the loveliest person in the world. It wasn't her, but a maiden named Snow White. And on that the tale (which emerged in Norse mythology), through the animation artists of Disney Studios, came the classic portrait of reflected personalities..

For some reason, that fairy tale recently floated back in my thoughts. Maybe it was scriptures warning about vanity and how the older “me” I now see in the mirror certainly isn't the “me” of my youth. Without broadcasting my age, let's just say my youth came in the dawn of the space age when the Russians launched the first satellite into orbit.

So yes, we've come along ways from the world's first mirrors. Think of times even before Job of the Bible (believed to have lived 2100-1800 BC) and whose friend Elihu (offering him a perspective on suffering) described the mirrors of their time: “Can you join him [God] in spreading out the skies, hard as a mirror of cast bronze?” (Job 3:18).

Thank goodness we don't have to squint into primitive mirrors, like those of brass or of a polished volcanic rock, obsidian (about 6,000 BC). Quite a while later came polished brass, silver, and gold, before our current glass with a very thin chemical coating (typically silver).

What's a takeaway from this little science lesson? Maybe the truth expressed by Pope John Paul II: “We must reflect the light of Christ through lives of prayer and joyful service to others.” Another way of looking at it (pun unintended) is this: when we look at our lives, are we seeing someone slowly being conformed to the character of Christ? Or are we stuck in our distorted life perceptions? Romans 8:29 is a blunt reminder of Who we should reflect:

For those God foreknew, he also predestined to be conformed to the likeness of his Son.

The character Jesus fleshed out during His tenure on earth wasn't selfish or suspicious. He wasn't demanding or demeaning. He reflected the goodness of the Father as a role model for us. And that's worth reflecting about—and putting into practice.

JUST DROPPING IN....

I learned a new word today: hydrophobicity. It's defined as “the physical property of a molecule that is seemingly repelled from a mass of water.” For a quickie illustration, check out plant leaves after a heavy dew, watering, or rain shower—like this photo of rose leaves. I find that when I slow down to just observe, I have the reminders of an amazing, inscrutable Creator who included such beauty for me to enjoy. Thus, I see transient diamonds right there in my front yard, quivering on a velvet bed.

Okay, if you're a scientist, you're thinking of an attribute of molecules that takes many words to explain. But I'm satisfied with just seeing beauty in the ordinary, little reminders to worship the Creator, whose handiwork has mandated centuries of awe-filled study.

Sometimes, life grinds on at such a pace that I forget to pause and just look. Reflect. Be in awe. Scripture says the heavens declare the glory of God, and the earth shows His handiwork (Psalm 19:1). I'm learning to look, listen, linger. One night the sunset cast such a brilliant orange on the horizon that I couldn't keep from sharing it. I called a close friend and said, “Quick, look out the window at the sunset,” then hung up. The color didn't last long, but she called back and thanked me for alerting her to it. To my surprise, she later gave me a photo print of that sky. She'd grabbed her camera for an “image” that lasted longer than a few minutes. I have it on my refrigerator along with coupons and photos of my grandchildren.

A much quoted thinker of the 1800s once said, “All I have seen teaches me to trust the creator for all I have not seen.” I hesitate somewhat to use this quote—by Ralph Waldo Emerson, whose theology wandered into Eastern religions outside Christianity—but I think it says what he probably didn't intend. It's this: that the heavens and earth are so amazing, so diverse, to interconnected, so beautiful—well, the “so's” can go on and on—that failure to consider their Creator is a travesty.

It is so right that the Bible's first words are: “In the beginning God created....” Not, "God called together a committee to plan this project.” God created. And His decision after creating beauty was to create people to enjoy it.

Of course, we know the Genesis story went sour...and so here we are. But God's Big Story will come to an ending chapter of magnificent redemption. In the meantime, I savor the reminders of His perfect creation, His delightful delicacies of plant and water, His gifts right in front of me—if I just stop and look.

So what if we name it “hydrophobicity.” I call it a fingerprint of the Creator.

IT'S NOT THE 'MATTRESS HYMN'!

The story behind a hymn of the faith.

Jokes aside, the hymn “How Firm a Foundation” is not about mattresses or the undergirding of a building! Instead, with noble words and tune, this well-known, well-loved hymn identifies our spiritual foundation as Jesus Christ.

How firm a foundation, ye saints of the Lord,

Is laid for your faith in His excellent Word.

What more can He say than to you He hath said,

To you who to Jesus for refuge have fled?

Despite the endurance of this stout hymn through more than two centuries (first published 1787), its true authorship has remained a bit confused. It's been attributed to a George Keith (1639?-1716), who worked in publishing. He was the son-in-law of a Dr. John Gill (1697-1771), an English Baptist pastor and scholar. However, another person connected to the hymn is “Robert Keen” (also known as Keene” or simply as “K”) who was cantor (music leader) at the Carter Lane Baptist Church in London under John Rippon, who pastored two London congregations an incredible 63 years until his death at 85.

Rippon's name is most connected with the hymn because he helped compile a Baptist hymnal to augment the already-existing hymnal by prolific hymn-writer Isaac Watts (1674-1748, credited with some 750 hymns himself).

“Fear not,” the second verse begins. Verse 3 uses the analogy of deep waters, verse 4, fiery trials. The conclusion declares:

The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose,

I will not—I will not desert to His foes;

That soul, though all hell shall endeavor to shake,

I'll never—no, never—no, never forsake!

Last but not least, consider its scriptural allusions:

1 Peter 1:23 (KJV): “Being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which liveth and abideth for ever.”

Isaiah 41:10: “Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.” This was the beloved hymn of General Robert E. Lee and has been performed at the funerals of several US politicians, including Presidents Theodore Roosevelt and Woodrow Wilson. On Christmas Eve 1898, American units engaged in the Spanish–American War joined together to sing the hymn. The members were from the North and the South.

Why its diverse popularity through the centuries? Perhaps because it express with a stout but joyful tune the assurance and joy of our salvation through Jesus Christ.

WORN DOWN

A, S, M, N—on my computer's keyboard, those letters are “no more.” Years of typing have worn off the lettering, so I pressed on "substitutes" cut from adhesive labels. But that's okay. Other than to make sure my index fingers are on the “home keys” of F and J when I start typing, the process has become quite automatic.

I have a fun story about anchoring “typing fingers.” One year during college I lived on the same floor as a blind student. She had some shadowy vision, we understood, and could find her way around the campus. Yet we “floor-mates” sometimes took turns making sure she navigated okay. That was especially helpful at meal time when she needed to choose a la carte foods she couldn't see and then find her way to an empty chair. Our “assistance” was rewarded by her gracious presence. As for typing—yes, she typed on a regular typewriter. But if she got her anchor fingers on the wrong keys, the result was gobbledygook. She also had a Braille “typewriter” that punched out the raised letters she could read. For quick note-taking (without dragging the heavy Brailler around), she had a special punching slate. I ordered one and wrote her in my primitive Braille a few times after college years. I still have it along with my 3x5 how-to card (the symbols in reverse for punching).

My Braille "writer" and ABC guide

Where am I going with this? Maybe that we need to be sensitive to communication styles. A regular written or typed message was hard for our college floor-mate to read. But she responded well to verbal commands or a hand on the forearm--done with grace and care.

More recently I've watched situations where one or both persons in a relationship don't see “eye to eye” or are blinded to their own faults. The same-old complaints or demands upon someone are like worn-down computer keys. In anger, someone might just stab at an emotional “key”--and the result does not spell “love” or “grace.” Knowing someone's “communication style” helps a lot. Few people respond positively to being worn down by nagging or demands. More are amenable to “appreciation” and “us” messages like, “How can we work together to achieve this?” This is how we obey the Bible's command to strive for peace with one another (Romans 12:18).

I've had my little Braille stylus and punch for more than half a century. It's one of those odd things rattling around in my desk drawer. I guess I hang onto it because it reminds me of my blind friend's determination to persevere and succeed. (I heard that she became a physical therapist and later married.) As such, she inspired me—more than she may ever realize.

AMAZING SOCIAL GRACE

"Amazing grace"--sin's chains broken

The globe on which we live bears many scars of wars and hatred, among them the “Apartheid” issues in South Africa that divided the black and white races. From that sad time of history comes an account that shouts of the mercy of God, no matter our race or address.

A court dealing with the atrocities of the Apartheid movement was hearing the case of Mr. van de Broek. He and other white police officers were accused of killing first the son, then the husband, of a black South African woman. She was forced to watch them incinerate her still-alive, bound husband. His last words to her, “Forgive them.”

Years later, the main killer was in court (the “Truth and Reconciliation Commission”), accused of murder. Across the courtroom sat this elderly mother and widow of those slain. The commission asked her what she wanted to punish their slayer.

Her answer: First, for her husband's killer to take her to the place where he was burned to death. She wanted to gather his ashes and give him a decent burial. Then, she added:

Second, Mr. van deBroek took all my family away from me, and I still have a lot of love to give. Twice a month, I would like him to come to the ghetto and spend a day with me so I can be a mother to him. Third, I would like Mr. van de Broek to know he is forgiven by God, and that I forgive him, too. I would like someone to lead me to where he is seated, so I can embrace him and he can know my forgiveness is real.”(1)

Someone led the elderly woman across the courtroom to van de Broek, who--overwhelmed--had fainted. Someone else had started singing “Amazing Grace,” and the courtroom joined in. How appropriate, that song—its lyrics penned in 1772 by former slave-trader-turned-clergyman John Newton.

It's a powerful real-life story. And not just about the ugliness of murder and apartheid. It's about our sinful bent toward despising and harming others....and the higher calling of forgiving, and giving.

(1) “Become my Son” | More Enigma Than Dogma

PUSH-POWER

My son and family were over to help me with some yard work, and the oldest grandson gave mowing a try. Let's just say he needs to grow a bit and develop those leg and arm muscles. But he gave it his best effort! I snapped this photo because the incident reminded me of one of my go-to verses when I feel overwhelmed: I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. (Philippians 4:13)

I know of folks who twist that verse into claiming God's empowerment for unworthy, self-serving, and even God-dishonoring goals. But when this verse planted itself in my heart, I took it within the context of Paul's “writing office”--a Roman prison. He didn't write, “Hey, loving the vacation! Beautiful view, incredible food, sparkling swim pool.” Far from it. He was in unwanted, unsought, primitive circumstances. But he was making the best of it. And this letter, centuries later, would be known as the “epistle of joy.”

Ironically, a lot of negatives framed this particular letter to the church at Philippi. Paul would rather be traveling and preaching than sitting in a Roman prison. He felt a special bond to this church, a Roman colony in current-day Northern Greece (then known as Macedonia). He sought to remind them of his own life lessons: to expect to suffer for Christ. To be humble. To pray. To let God stretch and grow their faith. To overcome opposition inside and outside the church.

Perhaps it's the undergirding message of “persevere” that made this book of the Bible so special to me in my young adult years. I'd gone through a lot of challenges and turmoil in my twenties. I won't bore you, but there were a lot of disappointments and humbling experiences. Times I felt like asking God, “Did I make the right decision? Am I pushing faith too hard? Is this goal really bigger than I can really handle?”

So, like my grandson straining against a too-heavy lawn mower, I was wondering if I wasn't big enough or smart enough for tasks I'd envisioned as my life work. Once God had shrunk me down to size, my song changed from “I can do all things—I'm smart and clever” to the more realistic “I can do this through God who strengthens me, because I sure can't do it on my own.”

God doesn't excuse us from making big goals, as long as He's part of the process. The end result may be something we never anticipated. Like little-kid-big-mower, I needed to grow strong in some areas before God could entrust me with bigger things in His plan for my life.

So yes, my grandson's dad (my son) took over the mower and finished the lawn. Give us a few years and that grandson will grow like Kansas corn in the summertime. His limbs will muscle out. His voice go down a few pitches, and that bare little chinny-chin-chin will sprout hairs.

Isn't that a picture of us as growing Christians (puberty's progress aside)? God has His best plan, His best time, and His best purpose—to grow us up as Paul wrote the Philippian church: “That he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (Philippians 1:6).