BEHOLD

When storm clouds recently layered above our valley—in a brief respite between weather systems that pumped hundred-degree days into our valley—I had two thoughts. One: could these produce lightning, which could ignite more fires in our area? We'd had too many fires already. Two: there was nothing I could do about it.

That sense of helplessness reminded me of an event described at the end of Matthew's Gospel. Here was Jesus, risen from the dead, just as He predicted. His grisly crucifixion—a criminal's death for a sinless Man—was in God's eternal plan to reconcile a holy God and sinful people. Now this inexplicably “alive” Person was giving His followers some final teaching about God's kingdom and their role as witnesses in it. Then:

And when he had spoken these things, while they beheld, he was taken up; and a cloud received him out of their sight. (Acts 1:9 KJV)

Beheld. It's an old English word we don't hear much any more, but it was just right for this event. It meant to fix one's eyes on something, to look at it with attention and to observe with care. The disciples watched Jesus' ascension—probably in fear and awe—trying to absorb every mystifying moment. They didn't know what to make of this. There was nothing they could do to reverse the event! Then some “men in white”--angels--admonished them to quit gawking at the sky: “This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven” (v. 11).

How fitting—that this same Jesus whom they “beheld” in His exit, was earlier welcomed into His earthly ministry when his camel-hair-garbed, radical prophet cousin John declared from the Jordan River where he was baptizing: “Behold the lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world!” (John 1:29). It was a bold, radical statement!

In recent months, some exceedingly wealthy men have financed their own trips into the “clouds,” enjoying the awe and weightlessness of space for a few minutes. But gravity eventually pulled their space vessels back to earth. Christ's ascension defied all laws of the planet. He kept going....and why not? Earth wasn't His real home.

But what of Christ's second coming? What will it mean to return “in the same way”?

Our broken, bruised world—groaning with climate change, disasters, disease, despair, crime—keeps hoping for something better. Instinctively, we look up, our perception of heaven—wherever or however that is God's eternal plan. Someday, our visions will extend beyond our layer of clouds. Our Savior will return--”in the same way” as those followers saw Him leave some 2,000 years ago.

Another “John,” the ninety-something apostle John, when granted special visions of the future, wrote: “Behold [there's that word again] he cometh with clouds; and every eye shall see him” (Rev. 1:7)

How is that possible—total recognition around the globe? Well, did you watch the Olympics from the other side of the world? But who watched every event in its entirety?

Christ's Second Coming will eclipse that! Every eye will see--BEHOLD--Him!

PRAISEWORTHY

 A continuing series on hymns of the faith.

How many times have you probably sung these hymn lyrics, sensing a bubbling up of joy?

Praise ye the Lord, the Almighty the King of Creation!

O my soul, praise Him for he is thy health and salvation!

Ironically, the man who wrote these lyrics didn't always feel this way about his faith. Born in 1650 in Germany, his father, grandfather, great-grand father and great-great grandfather had all been preachers. But Joachim Neander was the rebellious pastor's kid. At twenty he and other students descended on historic St. Martin's Church in Bremen, established in 1229, to heckle the worshipers. But the pastor's sermon that day pierced his heart, leading to his conversion.

A few years later he became a headmaster of a school in Dusseldorf. While there he wrote more than sixty hymns. But his strong Christian witness and evangelistic work didn't go over with school authorities, and later he was dismissed.

Neander would become known for the long walks he'd take near his home. He used that time for private worship, often composing hymns as he strolled and singing them to God. At thirty, he wrote the hymn “Praise ye the Lord!, the Almighty.” That year he died of tuberculosis. But in that short decade of following God, he'd become a noted scholar in theology, literature, and music, also pastoring a Reformed church in Dusseldorf, Germany.

His life and hymns would have become just a fading postscript of Germany's religious history without the skills of an English woman who lived about two hundred years ago. Catherine Winkworth, daughter of a London silk merchant, became proficient in German and took on as a passion the translation of the great heritage of German hymns. Miss Winkworth, friend of many writers of her day including Charles Dickens, would have her name connected to almost 500 translated hymn texts. Besides Neander's, they'd include “Now Thank We All Our God” and “Open Now the Gates of Heaven.” She would also be remembered as a pioneer for higher education for women.

Some extra history trivia:

*In tribute to Neander, the historic Bremen church where he once heckled worshipers now plays “Praise ye the Lord” on its bells every day.

*His first name, Joachim, is said to be the same as the father of the virgin Mary. It means “established by God.”

*One of his favorite walking spots was a valley that would be named in tribute to him: Neanderthal Valley, merging his last name “Neander” with the German term “tal” or “thal” for valley. In 1856, miners discovered caves with human bones. One scientist thought they might be in the missing link in Darwin's evolutionary theories. That theory was proven false; they likely were just an extinct people known for their strength. It's been said that Neander would have been shocked to have an evolutionary theory attached to a concept he would have rejected.

Sing along with words superimposed on beautiful scenery:

Praise to the Lord, the Almighty - YouTube

BLUE GOLD

It started—honestly--with an old-fashioned folding wooden clothes drying rack. My husband, who likes to fix/resell, found it somewhere, cleaned it up, and had me put it in the online want ads. There it sat for weeks until we got a call from folks about four hours' drive away. Could we hold it for their anticipated trip to our town? Sure.

Okay, here's the backstory that involves blueberries. Some of the sweetest memories of my childhood are the blueberries that came off about six bushes in our home's back yard. Our valley was infamous for hungry robins, so after a few years of unwillingly feeding the wildlife, my dad enclosed the blueberry patch in a “cage” he built of chicken wire. Oh how the flying critters fussed. But we got our blueberries, and, frozen, they treated us all year.

Fast-forward several decades to marriage, and knowing my love of blueberries, my husband planted several bushes in our back yard. Instead of the chicken wire cage, I just draped them with netting to ward of bird pecks when the berries started to form. Typically I got two big mixing bowlfuls a year off them. Popped in the freezer, they provided enough toppings for my breakfast cereal for the year. At other times, my husband knew that just buying a carton of fresh blueberries at the store meant more to me than a mink coat or high-brow perfume (neither of which I have owned or desired).

This year, something happened. I barely got a handful of berries. Major crop failure.

Cherry season came and my husband was invited to glean at an orchard. Oh, he went at it. He gave away bags and bags to friends, most of them older folks who appreciated the sweat equity behind such a gift. But his list was shorter than the supply, and we had a plastic dishwashing tub in the refrigerator left.

Enter the customers for the wooden clothes drying rack. Two women came as promised, fresh off hours of either purchasing or gleaning some of the produce of our valley. Right away, by their dress and hair style, I identified them as folks of the religious persuasion that advocated the “simple life.” One bought the clothes rack without quibbling on the price and then asked, “Do you like blueberries?”

She may have well asked, “Do you like fresh air? Giggling babies? Air-dried laundry? Words of appreciation? The hope of eternal life?” We didn't go through that list but she told me to get a container and she'd share some they had picked. I grabbed a small mixing bowl, thinking that was greedy. My husband hollered from the garage, “Give them that tub of cherries in our refrigerator.” Oh, her eyes lit up at the mention of cherries, whose harvest had just ended. I wanted to keep my plastic dishwashing tub, so found a cardboard box they could take and started dumping the cherries. As soon as I emptied my plastic tub, she brought out her huge box of blueberries and--to my astonishment--dumped them into the same tub! It was a summer's harvest for me—and more.

And then they left for their long trip home to presumably can and freeze their bounty for the year. I rinsed and bagged their berry gift, and tucked the blue bounty into our freezer. And I--blessed unexpectedly--cried.

“Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart.” (Psalm 37:3)

“Celebrate [God's] abundant goodness.” (Psalm 145:7)

And finally, as we obey God in our finances and generosity, He says, “I will pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it.” (Malachi 3:12)

Blue gold. What a blessing.

ANTSY

Bathroom visitors...what were
they hungry for? Toothpaste?

 "Antsy”--the word means “restless, fidgety”--and we were definitely restless and fidgety a few weeks ago when they swarmed into the kitchen. Not two by two, either. Total battleground. We didn't stop to count them but grabbed the spray and poison disks to declare war on these minuscule black critters. It was my fault 😕. I had left on the counter a little ceramic honey dispenser shaped like a bear, with a slot for the serving twirler stick. It wasn't air tight. Or ant tight. What's that saying, “If you build it, they will come”? In our case, it was, “If you leave it out, they will come!” Not just the kitchen, either. They found their way to the bathroom, where I quickly left the poison disk to satisfy their appetites. “Be sure to take some goodies back to your queen,” I told them—not that they heard. As retirees who try to be thrifty, we tend to be do-it-yourself folks. The $70 professional spray is a hunk of money (which rhymes with "honey"). So we decided to do chemical battle and sanitize anything that might have had a scent of "follow me to the golden pot." A few days later, the battle was pretty much over.

I was amused by a recent public television show that featured people (bug scientists) who make a big deal out of ants. They love going to remote places where ants build condos taller than a person. They revel in the organizational abilities of ants—all somehow built into their DNA by our Creator God. No wonder they garnered commendation in Proverbs 30:24-38 with some other animals. “Cronies” (rock badgers) were praised for wise building, locusts for cooperation, and lizards about fearlessness. And ants, praised for their innate sense of preparation: “Ants are creatures of strength, yet they store up their food in the summer” (v. 25). Ants also got proverbial “ink” in chapter 6:

Go to the ant, you sluggard; consider its ways and be wise! It has no commander, no overseer or ruler, yet it stores in provisions in summer, and gathers its food at harvest. (vv. 6-7)

That observation is followed by a rebuke to the “sluggard” to get with it! If tiny, seemingly insignificant ants scurry about with this internal work ethic without a boss man nearby—getting ready for the lean feeding times of winter—can we do less when God calls us to excellence in our tasks? Another commentator remarked about how ants carry loads far bigger than they are. I've witnessed that, too—and the lesson for me was 1 Peter 5:7: “Cast all your anxiety on him, because he cares for you.” When my daily burdens—concern for others, the daily drudge of life's tasks, health challenges and other things that “weigh on me”--get me down, well, God waits to carry that burden for me.

My scripture reading during this pandemic has repeatedly taken me to verses that I memorized or meditated on in previous times of trials. As they encourage or instruct me again, I find myself saying, “Thanks for the reminder, Lord.” I'm glad I “stored up” that spiritual food for these times when pandemic fears nibble at my faith.

“Look to the ant”?--oh yes. Except when they pollute my honey jar....