UNDERCOVER WORK

 “Oh, rats!” In my childhood, anything remotely sounding like a curse abusing God's name was thoroughly discouraged. I think we got away with “Fiddlesticks” (even though it denigrated my future music passion), “Bummer!” or “Rats!” All of which I could have recalled (though refrained from reviving) for a recent household emergency—with the exception of the last. Because watching television isn't my “thing,” my evenings are quiet, often spent reading. So when I heard thumps and bumps and clattering in the ceiling—and there was no chance of the fabled Santa Claus and his four-footed flying helpers being the reason—I knew I had a problem.

Rats roam the neighborhood, probably still insulted that their wonderful Rat City (huge vacant lot behind the fences of homes on my street) was disturbed and banned when developers put up a huge neighborhood of townhouses on the site. Do rats have scouting parties that work in the dark? And how would they get in my attic to have nighttime square-dancing contests that scared me spit-less (more or less)?

Sharing my plight with some friends, we decided the rats had looked for a back door to success—in my case, a tiny chewed-away part of the wood frame of the screened “plug” to my foundation well access. Once under the house, party time! And somehow, the party moved upstairs through walls to my attic. A caring friend came over with eradication supplies (spell that e-RAT-ication) and helped me with the dastardly task. Another brought a bent piece of metal to cover the tiny suspected-chewed entry of the screen's wooden frame. A couple weeks later, the unwelcome clatter faded. I heard a tiny ceiling chunk-e-dunk a couple nights ago, but not the full-fledged square-dancing-romps of previous weeks.

As I considered the tiny access making way for a vermin celebration, I thought of how sin can be just as sneaky. Give sin an inch, and it chews away at a one's character:

Do not participate in the unfruitful deeds of darkness, but instead even expose them. (Ephesians 5:11)

Do not be bound together with unbelievers; for what partnership have righteousness and lawlessness, or what fellowship has light with darkness? (2 Corinthians 6:14)

This is the message we have heard from Him and announced to you, that God is light, and in Him there is no darkness at all. If we say that we have fellowship with Him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. (1 John 1:5-6)

Disclaimer: I'm not pointing any fingers in writing about this problem. Any Christian faces the threat of spiritual “rats”: “Do not be deceived: bad company corrupts good character” (1 Corinthians 15:33). We don't have to turn up at unsavory places in person. Pushing the “on” button on a computer can take someone to virtual bad places as well. The more someone spends time in such negative places, the more it can erode one's character.

Oddly, mice and rats have been gentrified (made “normal”) through the pens and brushes of cartoonists. Remember the mice who helped Cinderella get ready for her life-changing ball? Or the comic critters with big ears, long tails and vicious dental work who starred in Disney's 2007 cartoon “Ratatouille”? Sorry, not the real world. My unwelcome visitors didn't have names, except maybe “Ugh.” Eradication, not entertaining them, was my aim. Hmm, sounds like spiritual warfare for believers, too....

SDRAWKCAB

My 12-and-under grandsons were having too much fun around the paper and crayons that I keep on a play-area shelf. I had heard them giggling, but that's a better sound that complaining about something. After their “grandma time” that day, I went into their play area and found this little sign—all in backwards printing. Their creative area is right next to a mirrored closet door, so I figured out that they'd written “backwards” (and everything else) well, backwards, and then held it up to the mirror. Snicker, snicker, snicker....

I'm not sure what they meant by “backwards cool”--maybe that I'm not “with-it” with computer games or assembling new and fantastic creations with those little notched plastic blocks. (The ones that start with the letter “L” which are not fun to walk on barefooted....) But (as Grandmas should) I do respond to their presence with adequate supplies of milk, granola bars, cheese sticks, apple slices, or other food items to help them grow big, strong, and smart.

The word “backwards,” unfortunately, has taken on some mean connotations. To call a person “backward” is to imply that they are “diffident” (meaning timid or lacking confidence) and just not “with it” for good relationships with their contemporaries. That bothers me, because “with it” doesn't always align with the behavior God desires that we exhibit in honoring Him. Often, there's an element of rebellion and pride rather than the graciousness that should characterize a Christian.

Here's another way a Christ-follower might look at this little grammar/spelling exercise. Moving forward in the Christian walk means heeding the lessons of a “look back.” That means a sobering look to the First Century when a Bethlehem-born Man left his earthly father's carpentry shop (and his mother, we presume, in the care of his subsequent brothers and sisters) to tell people about a Heavenly Father. And not just tell with life-changing words, but show it through life-changing miracles.

His itinerant ministry—up and down Palestine, and up and down again—shocked folks who thought God's promised Son would come in great, glittery splendor, like an earthly monarch. Not as a regular-looking person with dirt in his worn sandals and dinners with his followers around a camp fire. But there was something about His life and words that lifted people to a forward look—of an eternity with God on the basis of faith, not backwards layers of so-called “good works” which they hoped would cancel out the “bad parts” of their lives.

For peoples steeped in “religious rites” that centered on killing animals as sacrificial gifts, this “faith not works” relationship with God was new and jarring. It just seemed backwards. But it would change a world burdened by trying to work enough “works” to earn God's favor. The “backwards look” requires us to admit our sinfulness. The “forward look” pulls us into a relationship with a loving Father. The transition, spelled backwards, is called “noitavlas”--a silly word, but the true word, salvation, is the point of an honorable, joyful going forward with God.

GLORY AFTER THE SNOW

Besides the golden trumpets of daffodils, or the prayer-cupped petals of tulips, my yard welcomes spring with the tiny blue-star chionadoxa, better known as “Glory of the Snow.” Originally native to the mountains of Western Turkey, this member of the lily family spreads its dainty blue blossoms where the spring sun beams its welcome onto my front yard. Self-propagating, it always surprises and delights me in March as warmer weather crawls into the valley.

When I walked by my patch of these flowers one Sunday after church, I was struck by a truth they illustrated. I had sat with a friend who was widowed before I was. Behind us sat another widow, whose loss is more recent. We are navigating our spiritual “winters” of loss in our own ways. But hope—the spring of spiritual hope—is unfolding in ways unique to each of us.

In a similar way, the hope of new life through faith in Jesus seems to parallel the wakening from winters of sin and discontent. An old hymn, “I Can Hear My Savior Calling,” has been running through my mind lately. (Yes, I am a hymn-lover!) This one dates to 1890, expressing the heart of E.W. Blandy (1844-1907), a British Salvation Army officer who immigrated to an assignment in a rough New York City waterfront slum known as “Hell's Kitchen.” I wonder how many mornings he walked out the door into New York's worst neighborhood claiming that this was the place Jesus had called him to.

The hymn is the only one known to be associated with Blandy. But those who study hymn histories believe it was eventually published in more than 700 places. (One researcher claimed it was in 903 volumes.) Blandy based his hymn on two verses:

“My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.” (John 10:27)

“Whoever will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow me” (Mark 8:34)

Some church music historians regard this hymn as “too simple.” Its verses repeat these phases after “I'll go with Him”: through the water, through the garden, to dark Calvary, to the judgment. Then it ends: “He will give me grace and glory” (repeated three times) “and go with me, with me, all the way.” But these easily remembered words were just right in expressing the Gospel message for Blandy's rough-and-tough slum-area ministry.

Little more is known about Blandly. He was just one man, reaching out to people living in wretched conditions. Folks living in the unforgiving, crime-chilled environment of inner New York. But he appealed to them, through this hymn, to listen for the call of hope of faith in Jesus Christ. And in so doing, left us this still-memorable hymn.

Listen to the hymn here: Bing Videos

Then enjoy this spring-welcoming music with a background of these spring flowers and chirping birds:

Glory-of-the-Snow Symphony ❄️? Spring Serenity & Piano ? The Beautiful Garden ? #Chionodoxa