Choosing Faith over Fear

Isaiah 41:8-13

These days, there are plenty of reasons to fear. Our world seems to be in a continuous state of war and crisis. The jobs market is dismal, natural disasters wreak havoc, and stories of crime dominate the headlines. As Christians, we know that fear should have no place in our lives, but how can we ignore what’s going on around us?

Basically, there are two paths you can walk: faith or fear. It’s impossible to simultaneously trust God and not trust God. Another way of saying this is that you cannot both obey and disobey Him–partial obedience is disobedience. So, which road are you traveling?

Some people who read the Bible and believe in God nevertheless choose to live with fear. Seeing others experience hardship, they start wondering if it could happen to them: Someone at my office lost his job; will I be next? Someone died in an accident–I could die too. But this kind
of “logic” places your circumstances above your relationship to God.

If Satan can get you to think like this, he has won the battle for your mind. But when you focus on God rather than your circumstances, whatever the situation is, you win. The Bible tells us, “God has not given us a spirit of timidity, but of power and love and discipline” (2 Tim. 1:7).

Our heavenly Father understands our disappointment, suffering, pain, fear, and doubt. He is always there to encourage our hearts and help us understand that He’s sufficient for all of our needs. When I accepted this as an absolute truth in my life, I found that my worrying stopped.

A Sure Stay

 I used to be a faithful listener to the national news. But it seems that more and more reporting consists of communicating more and more bad news. As a result, I’ve become more of a sporadic listener. Of course, I recognize that this is not a recent trend. Most news has rarely, if ever, been uplifting. The events deemed “newsworthy” are generally traumatic or catastrophic events. The recent random shootings in Arizona, Colorado, and Wisconsin, the continuing economic crises in the U.S. and Europe, the continuing conflicts in the Middle East all serve as recent examples.

 These “bad news” stories are even more difficult to deal with because they are not simply news stories affecting someone else; they are real stories of the everyday realities of people all around me, and including me. Close friends have loved ones in Iraq and Afghanistan. Colleagues struggle to make ends meet, and wonder how they can continue to keep up with the rising costs associated with gas and food. Necessities become negotiable and disappear altogether. For many, these are not simply news stories these are their stories of trying to survive in extraordinarily dark times.

 While these particular circumstances are specific to the contemporary context, extraordinarily dark times are sadly nothing new. Even the greatest of leaders in the ancient world were not immune to trouble and despair. As we are told in the Hebrew narratives, David, the great king of Israel, experienced many difficulties throughout his life.  And when he experienced trouble, he turned to poetry. Psalm 18, as one example, appears to have been a poem written after the experience of deliverance from national enemies and the current king of Israel, King Saul. 

 The poetry composed by David expresses his grief and distress in the midst his trials. The imagery he uses is of a near death experience: “The waves of death encompassed me; the torrents of destruction overwhelmed me; the cords of Sheol surrounded me; the snares of death confronted me.  In my distress I called upon the Lord” (2 Samuel 22:5-7a). His distress felt like drowning; being swallowed up by the mighty waves of the sea.

 Yet, somehow David believes he will be delivered. In my distress I called upon the Lord. David hopes in God’s deliverance. Even though he feels overwhelmed by powerful forces at work against him, David affirms that “The Lord was my stay. He brought me forth also into a broad place; he rescued me, because he delighted in me” (Psalm 18:19). 

 It is tempting to understand the Lord’s rescue operation as one that restores the equilibrium or status quo to David. As one commentator notes, the psalmists’ chief concern to give thanks to God are not chiefly found in regaining “physical health, or adding more years to life, or by enhancing the life they now enjoy with greater comfort or security. That is a modern conception of life, whose emptiness is eventually disclosed. According to Israel’s way of thinking, life is missed when people do not choose it: ‘See, I have set before you life and death….Therefore, choose life.'”(1) Those who know David’s story know that it continues to be fraught with difficulty and hardship even as he becomes the great king of Israel.

 God’s rescue was not simply a return to the “way things were” or always a salve of comfort and ease. To read the poem this way is to miss its main image of the God whose rescue shakes the deepest foundations. “The earth shook and quaked the foundations of the mountains were trembling.” God’s rescue often involves the overturning and upending all the things in which we place our hope apart from God.  For the poet David testified: The Lord was his stay. Ultimately, salvation does not come from the things God does for David, or for us. God’s rescue sets one in a broad place opening up new spaces in which we can find room to trust. 

 Sometimes, God’s rescue involves the deliverance from all the things we think make up true life. As Christoph Barth observes, “[W]hat the psalmists pray for in laments, or thank God for in thanksgiving is the restoration of life that they have lost, or its radical renewal through true life—that is the life that is given through relationship to God.”(2)

 When we make God our stay we acknowledge that all other ground is like sand—even those things that appear as a strong foundation. Our notion of rescue is upended. And while we never want to deny that days are often filled with bad news, God can be our stay, open up a broad place where we want more than simply to be rescued and instead desire to become the means of rescue. We can have active hands and feet that swiftly move to help others in times of need, and in times of abundance, with God as our stay. As people living at times in want and in times of bad news, we can renew and restore the lives of others in remarkable ways, inviting them into the broad place where we stand on the ground that is God.

 Margaret Manning is member of the speaking and writing team at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Seattle, Washington.

 (1) Bernard W. Anderson, ed., Out of the Depths: The Psalms Speak for Us Today, (Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1983), 127.
(2) As quoted by Anderson, Ibid., 127.

 

 

 

Charles Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

Morning “He that watereth shall be watered also himself.” / Proverbs 11:25

We are here taught the great lesson, that to get, we must give; that to
accumulate, we must scatter; that to make ourselves happy, we must make others
happy; and that in order to become spiritually vigorous, we must seek the
spiritual good of others. In watering others, we are ourselves watered. How?
Our efforts to be useful, bring out our powers for usefulness. We have latent
talents and dormant faculties, which are brought to light by exercise. Our
strength for labour is hidden even from ourselves, until we venture forth to
fight the Lord’s battles, or to climb the mountains of difficulty. We do not
know what tender sympathies we possess until we try to dry the widow’s tears,
and soothe the orphan’s grief. We often find in attempting to teach others,
that we gain instruction for ourselves. Oh, what gracious lessons some of us
have learned at sick beds! We went to teach the Scriptures, we came away
blushing that we knew so little of them. In our converse with poor saints, we
are taught the way of God more perfectly for ourselves and get a deeper
insight into divine truth. So that watering others makes us humble. We
discover how much grace there is where we had not looked for it; and how much
the poor saint may outstrip us in knowledge. Our own comfort is also increased
by our working for others. We endeavour to cheer them, and the consolation
gladdens our own heart. Like the two men in the snow; one chafed the other’s
limbs to keep him from dying, and in so doing kept his own blood in
circulation, and saved his own life. The poor widow of Sarepta gave from her
scanty store a supply for the prophet’s wants, and from that day she never
again knew what want was. Give then, and it shall be given unto you, good
measure, pressed down, and running over.

Evening “I said not unto the seed of Jacob, Seek ye me in vain.” / Isaiah 45:19

We may gain much solace by considering what God has not said. What he has said
is inexpressibly full of comfort and delight; what he has not said is scarcely
less rich in consolation. It was one of these “said nots” which preserved the
kingdom of Israel in the days of Jeroboam the son of Joash, for “the Lord said
not that he would blot out the name of Israel from under heaven.” 2 Kings
14:27. In our text we have an assurance that God will answer prayer, because
he hath “not said unto the seed of Israel, Seek ye me in vain.” You who write
bitter things against yourselves should remember that, let your doubts and
fears say what they will, if God has not cut you off from mercy, there is no
room for despair: even the voice of conscience is of little weight if it be
not seconded by the voice of God. What God has said, tremble at! But suffer
not your vain imaginings to overwhelm you with despondency and sinful despair.
Many timid persons have been vexed by the suspicion that there may be
something in God’s decree which shuts them out from hope, but here is a
complete refutation to that troublesome fear, for no true seeker can be
decreed to wrath. “I have not spoken in secret, in a dark place of the earth;
I have not said,” even in the secret of my unsearchable decree, “Seek ye me in
vain.” God has clearly revealed that he will hear the prayer of those who call
upon him, and that declaration cannot be contravened. He has so firmly, so
truthfully, so righteously spoken, that there can be no room for doubt. He
does not reveal his mind in unintelligible words, but he speaks plainly and
positively, “Ask, and ye shall receive.” Believe, O trembler, this sure
truth–that prayer must and shall be heard, and that never, even in the
secrets of eternity, has the Lord said unto any living soul, “Seek ye me in
vain.”

What God Hasn’t Said

I did not say to the offspring of Jacob, ‘seek me in vain.’   Isaiah 45:19

We can gain a great deal of comfort by considering what God has not said. What He has said is full of comfort and delight; but what He has not said is scarcely less rich in consolation. It was what God had not said that preserved the kingdom of Israel in the days of Jeroboam the son of Joash, for “the LORD had not said that he would blot out the name of Israel from under heaven” (2 Kings 14:27). In our text we have an assurance that God will answer prayer because He “did not say to the offspring of Jacob, ‘Seek me in vain.'”

Those of you who are prone to self-condemnation should remember that, lest your doubts and fears say what they will, if God has not cut you off from mercy, there is no need for despair: Even the voice of conscience carries little weight if it is not seconded by the voice of God. We should tremble at what God has said! But do not allow your rambling thoughts to overwhelm you with despondency and sinful despair. Many timid persons have been vexed by the suspicion that there may be something in God’s decree that shuts them out from hope, but we have here a complete rebuttal of that troublesome fear, for no true seeker can be decreed to wrath. “I did not speak in secret, in a land of darkness; I did not say [even in the secret of my unsearchable decree]… , ‘Seek me in vain.'”

God has clearly revealed that He will hear the prayer of those who call upon Him, and that declaration cannot be contradicted. He has spoken so firmly, so truthfully, so righteously that there can be no room for doubt. He does not reveal His mind in unintelligible words, but He speaks plainly and positively. “Everyone who asks receives.”1 Doubter, believe this sure truth—that prayer must and will be heard, and that never, even in the secrets of eternity, has the Lord said to any living soul, “Seek me in vain.”

1Matthew 7:8

Family Reading Plan Jeremiah 50   Psalm 28

Abusing God’s Patience

Romans 2:4-5

Have you ever ignored the press of conviction upon your heart? Maybe you rationalized your wrongdoing with the thought that if God were really upset, He’d put a stop to things by disciplining you. Psalm 50:21 reminds us that the silence of heaven does not mean approval. Remaining in sin is an abuse of the Lord’s patience.

When God seems slow to react, we might hope He’s overlooking our transgressions–we’d like to continue in sin because the momentary pleasure is more appealing than obedience. But thankfully, the Father knows our weaknesses, our innate carnality, and the state of our spiritual growth, and He therefore measures His response. Motivated by love and a desire to gently restore His children to righteousness, God refrains from doling out immediate punishment. Instead, He waits for the Holy Spirit’s proddings to impact the believer’s heart. The weight of conviction is actually an invitation to turn from wrongdoing and return to godliness.

However, we’re a stubborn people. There are times when we persist in sin because the sentence against an evil deed isn’t executed quickly (Eccl. 8:11). In this dangerous situa-tion, it’s possible to immerse ourselves in sin and harden our hearts against the Lord. Then the Holy Spirit’s call to repentance falls on spiritual ears rapidly going deaf.

As we learn and understand more about God and His ways, we are increasingly responsible to live righteously. The Lord is not slow; He’s patient. Do not abuse His patience with callous disregard for His statutes. Repent and be holy in the sight of the Lord.

A Strange Thirst

 If you have ever read anything of Saint Simeon the Stylite, undoubtedly, you have not forgotten him. Simeon was the first of a long succession of “pillar hermits” who held a great reputation for holiness in Eastern Christendom. Practicing a rather peculiar form of asceticism, Simeon sat atop a freestanding, fifty-foot column for 36 years. Upon his pillar, Simeon devoted himself to silence, prayer, fasting, and the writing of letters. 

 Saint Francis of Assisi lived his life on land, but like Simeon, with his heart firmly planted in the heavens. He is celebrated as the gentle saint with the all-embracing love of nature. He ate with lepers, sang to flowers, and preached entire sermons to birds. Saint Francis served Christ passionately, giving away everything—his wealth, his clothes, his rights. Even his asceticism was clothed with a sort of divine romance; he often referred to “Lady Poverty” as his wife of surpassing beauty. 

 There is something within the lifestyles of the early Christian saints, mystics, and martyrs that make me wonder about the comfortable slumber of my soul. Their stories are filled with a curious intensity, so far from the Laodicean neutrality around me; the synonym of laziness that describes my own church as much as it described the Laodiceans that made it an adjective. Many of the early Christians lived lives full of visions of Christ’s suffering, others spent months or years in caves wholly devoted to prayer and fasting in pursuit of God. In each story, however extreme or strange the expression of faith, evident is the incredible thirst of a soul, the passionate pursuit of God, and the delight of a life lived in the presence of Christ. At a time when one can look around and see so much thirst for novelty, for thrill or for security, such lives depict a deep well of hope—a well these men and women drank deeply of themselves—indeed, living their lives solely to pursue.

 To two men who were once following him, Jesus turned and asked point-blankly: “What do you want?” What if it is a question he still wants us to answer? What is it you want? What are you looking for? What is it you’d call your deepest desire? What would it take to make you feel alive? We find ourselves in a world filled with many tempting waters said to satisfy any thirst. And yet, our chorus seems to be closer to the old song: “I can’t get no satisfaction.” 

 Yet the pull of heart and mind for satisfaction is persistent. Saint Augustine famously wrote that our hearts are only satisfied when they are satisfied with God. King David pursued many things passionately, including women, kingdoms, and power. But his thirst was not touched until he fell to his knees and admitted that his longing was for the touch of God. He writes in Psalm 63, “O God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you, my soul thirsts for you.”  When God is seen clearly, the seeming promises of the world come into focus. “My soul longs for you,” writes David, “in a dry and weary land where there is no water.” 

 Jesus once said to anyone who would listen, “If anyone is thirsty, let them come to me and drink.” Generations of thirsting pilgrims have prayed that all would find their way to these real waters: “And 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, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.”(1) If you know the longing is real, what might become of it if you turned that restless thirst toward God? What if we lived as if truly knowing that anything that is not eternal is eternally unable to satisfy our deepest thirsts? With joy perhaps we, too, might draw deeply and be satisfied by Christ the King. 

 Jill Carattini is managing editor of A Slice of Infinity at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.

 (1) Ephesians 3:17-19.

Charles Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

Morning “The sweet psalmist of Israel.” / 2 Samuel 23:1

Among all the saints whose lives are recorded in Holy Writ, David possesses an
experience of the most striking, varied, and instructive character. In his
history we meet with trials and temptations not to be discovered, as a whole,
in other saints of ancient times, and hence he is all the more suggestive a
type of our Lord. David knew the trials of all ranks and conditions of men.
Kings have their troubles, and David wore a crown: the peasant has his cares,
and David handled a shepherd’s crook: the wanderer has many hardships, and
David abode in the caves of Engedi: the captain has his difficulties, and
David found the sons of Zeruiah too hard for him. The psalmist was also tried
in his friends, his counsellor Ahithophel forsook him, “He that eateth bread
with me, hath lifted up his heel against me.” His worst foes were they of his
own household: his children were his greatest affliction. The temptations of
poverty and wealth, of honour and reproach, of health and weakness, all tried
their power upon him. He had temptations from without to disturb his peace,
and from within to mar his joy. David no sooner escaped from one trial than he
fell into another; no sooner emerged from one season of despondency and alarm,
than he was again brought into the lowest depths, and all God’s waves and
billows rolled over him. It is probably from this cause that David’s psalms
are so universally the delight of experienced Christians. Whatever our frame
of mind, whether ecstasy or depression, David has exactly described our
emotions. He was an able master of the human heart, because he had been
tutored in the best of all schools–the school of heart-felt, personal
experience. As we are instructed in the same school, as we grow matured in
grace and in years, we increasingly appreciate David’s psalms, and find them
to be “green pastures.” My soul, let David’s experience cheer and counsel thee
this day.

Evening “And they fortified Jerusalem unto the broad wall.” / Nehemiah 3:8

Cities well fortified have broad walls, and so had Jerusalem in her glory. The
New Jerusalem must, in like manner, be surrounded and preserved by a broad
wall of nonconformity to the world, and separation from its customs and
spirit. The tendency of these days break down the holy barrier, and make the
distinction between the church and the world merely nominal. Professors are no
longer strict and Puritanical, questionable literature is read on all hands,
frivolous pastimes are currently indulged, and a general laxity threatens to
deprive the Lord’s peculiar people of those sacred singularities which
separate them from sinners. It will be an ill day for the church and the world
when the proposed amalgamation shall be complete, and the sons of God and the
daughters of men shall be as one: then shall another deluge of wrath be
ushered in. Beloved reader, be it your aim in heart, in word, in dress, in
action to maintain the broad wall, remembering that the friendship of this
world is enmity against God.

The broad wall afforded a pleasant place of resort for the inhabitants of
Jerusalem, from which they could command prospects of the surrounding country.
This reminds us of the Lord’s exceeding broad commandments, in which we walk
at liberty in communion with Jesus, overlooking the scenes of earth, and
looking out towards the glories of heaven. Separated from the world, and
denying ourselves all ungodliness and fleshly lusts, we are nevertheless not
in prison, nor restricted within narrow bounds; nay, we walk at liberty,
because we keep his precepts. Come, reader, this evening walk with God in his
statutes. As friend met friend upon the city wall, so meet thou thy God in the
way of holy prayer and meditation. The bulwarks of salvation thou hast a right
to traverse, for thou art a freeman of the royal burgh, a citizen of the
metropolis of the universe.

A Key to the City

And they restored Jerusalem as far as the broad wall.   Nehemiah 3:8

 Well-fortified cities have broad walls, and so did Jerusalem in her glory days. The New Jerusalem must, similarly, be surrounded and preserved by a broad wall of nonconformity to the world and separation from its patterns and ideas. There is a tendency today to break down this holy barrier and make the distinction between the Church and the world merely nominal. Believers are no longer fixed on godliness, questionable literature is widely read, frivolous pastimes are eagerly indulged, and a general laxity threatens to deprive the Lord’s special people of those sacred distinctives that separate them from sinners. It will be a bad day for the Church and the world when the proposed amalgamation is complete, and the sons of God and the daughters of men shall be united, and another deluge of wrath is ushered in. Beloved reader, make it your aim in heart, in word, in dress, in action to maintain the broad wall, remembering that the friendship of this world is enmity against God.

The Broad Wall provided a pleasant place of relaxation for the inhabitants of Jerusalem, from which they enjoyed sweeping views of the surrounding country. This reminds us of the Lord’s exceedingly broad commandments, which provide a pathway to freedom and communion with Jesus. From here we look upon the scenes of earth and gaze toward the glories of heaven. Separated from the world, and denying ourselves all ungodliness and fleshly lusts, we are not in prison nor restricted within narrow boundaries; no, we walk in freedom, because we keep His commands.

Come, reader; this evening walk with God in His statutes. As friend met friend upon the city wall, so meet your God on the path of holy prayer and meditation. You have every right to stand upon the walls of salvation, for you have been given the key to the King’s city—you are a citizen of the metropolis of the universe.

Family Reading Plan Jeremiah 49 Psalm 26