FLEETING GOLD

 A few weeks ago, green leaves on my neighbor's willow tree swung in the breeze. Then, almost overnight (it seemed), they yellowed, then flicked off the branches to cover her lawn and roof, causing quite a cleanup chore. A few found their way over the fence to my lawn. I don't mind raking them up, savoring this harbinger of the “changing of the seasons.” Sometimes the scattered leaves remind me of a classic poem, Spring's first green is gold—which, the poet Robert Frost added, is “its hardest hue to hold.”

Frost took a phenomenon of nature (for one, how the first spring blooms of a willow are actually yellow before maturing into leaves) to build a quiet symbolism of life's transitions—when those green leaves turn golden again in fall and drop. And every fall, watching this happen, I remember Frost's veiled message of life's transience.

Then I open my Bible. The apostle Paul was no “Frost,” but he wrote some things that blossom in amazing ways. One is the doxology he quoted as part of his letter to the Ephesians. It followed a section in the letter that pushed the saints to consider the incomprehensible dimensions of the love of Christ: its “width and length and depth and height” (Ephesians 3:18). One thing I never noticed about the verse (until reading this is a commentary) was how Paul used a pyramid construction to list the superlatives of God's blessings. In some ways, it's shaped like a tree with an apex at top and broader limbs on the ground. Paul wrote that God is:

Able

Able to do

Able to do what we ask

Able to do what we think

Able to do what we ask or think

Able to do all that we ask or think

Able to do abundantly above all that we ask or think

Able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think

according to

the power

that works in us.

This growth in spiritual character is the work of His Holy Spirit in us. He shows us our sin, helps us turn to prayer and confession, teaches us to worship, and brings opportunities to “bear fruit” through service to God.

Our time to do so is brief—so brief. It's so easy to sit in the soil and doing ordinary “living things,” yet failing to see the bigger purpose of life on earth. As the Westminster confession puts it: “Man's chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy him forever.” Our years to do so are limited. Even willow trees eventually die after years of their green-to-gold seasonal cycle. But notice the verse's “trunk” in this illustration: “According to the power that works in us.” It's our roots, reaching deep into the soil of God's love, seeking to “bloom” and serve as He intended. Because...HE is able.

REAL LOVE

This décor plaque at a local store reminded me of

Ephesians 3:18 and our relationship with God

Oh, the stories associated with Valentine’s Day. Nobody knows for sure who was the original St. Valentine, though the name (from words for bravery or “valor”) connects well with one ancient priest’s bold decision to marry couples to help the bridegroom escape military service. Some histories mention fertility festivals of old. No record exists of romantic celebrations on Valentine’s Day until a 1375 poem by Chaucer which linked courtly love with St. Valentine’s feast day. In that poem, Feb. 14 is the day birds and humans find mates.

Today the holiday seems to have overrated human (and passion-oriented) love. Oh, that instead of “Roses are red-etc.” we’d focus on this as a theme verse:

 How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are! (1 John 3:1)

Being truly related to the God of all creation is knowing true love. Seeing the cross on which Jesus died as a personal payment for my sinful condition is embracing true love.  Living for Jesus “in all that I do” (to quote an old hymn) is living out true love. Waiting for true love—a God-fearing spouse, not a flimsy substitute because nobody else came along—is trusting the God who loves us more than we can realize.

Several years ago my church was pastored by a man (and wife) whose three daughters and son set the bar high for “good kids.” After they left, we kept in touch via mail, pleased to hear of their social skills, academics, implicit trust in Jesus, servant hearts, and, most of all, a God-focused present and future. His kids are awesome! With two older daughters now  in college, the third one finishing high school, they're approaching the years when young men take notice of them. I am thinking, “Are there men out there worthy of these outstanding young women?”

Recently the dad wrote a book about the seven letters to ancient churches that open the book of Revelation. Those churches had a common problem: failing to live 100% for Christ. Many were okay with compromising their values so they’d fit in better with their community. We’re not any different if our pastors compromise the Gospel to a “Jesus can be your Best Friend” message, sidestepping Scripture’s command to “take up your cross and die” (Mark 8:34).

This book is titled Seven Words: How the Seven Letters of Revelation Speak to Us Today (XulonPress), and in it Pastor Joshua Brooks (dad of those awesome kids!) shared another author’s hypothetical illustration of a dad looking for a husband for his daughter. Would he “make it happen” by advertising her in newspapers (or even a love site on the internet), putting up a billboard, or passing out tee-shirts begging someone to choose her?  Absolutely not. This would cheapen his precious daughter. The man worthy of his daughter would have to be prepared to offer her his absolute best.

And so it is for us. First and foremost must come our love relationship with God. John wrote in the same passage: “Everyone who has this hope [of someday seeing the risen Christ, v. 2] purifies himself, just as he is pure” (1 John 3:3). That connects right into the idea of being “rooted” in Christ, and growing in love and devotion to Him:

I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ” (Ephesians 3:18).

That’s real love, far greater than the “valentine” clichés.