And in the same region there were shepherds out in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And an angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filled with fear. -Luke 2:8

“How They See It: People Who Matter on What Matters Most.” So says the cover of the current issue of Newsweek. Pictured are Henry Kissinger, Hillary Clinton, Tim Geithner, Eric Holder, etc. In other words, the people who matter are politicians and bureaucrats, the white-collar parasites who work with politically-connected elites to feed lavishly off wealth created by productive people in all countries. Yes, it’s the rich and powerful who matter.

The wealthy didn’t see the glory of the Lord the night described in Luke 2, however. Shepherds did. How many untold saints have wished to see what those blessed shepherds saw?

That’s how the Lord works. Local events change the world. They don’t usually occur in Herod’s palace, but instead among those who don’t “matter.” Years and years of tedium, and then boom, a surprise. The church was built and maintained by people who don’t matter to those who worship at the altar of this perishing world.

Malcolm Muggeridge was in Russia during perhaps its most vicious era in the early 1930s. Encompassed by Stalinist oppression and starvation, which has few parallels in human history, this was his impression:

It just suddenly seemed to me that Russia was a beautiful place– these pine trees, dark against the snow which had now begun to fall, the sparkling stars so far, far away, the faces of the Russians I met and greeted, these also so beautiful, so clumsy and kind… In the woods there was a little church, of course disused now. The fronts of such churches, like the Greek ones, are painted with bright colours; blues bluer than the bluest sky, whites whiter than the whitest snow. Someone — heaven knows who — had painted up the one in the Kliasma woods. Standing in front of this unknown painter’s handiwork, I blessed his name, feeling that I belonged to the little disused church he had embellished, and that the Kremlin with its scarlet flag and dark towers and golden spires was an alien kingdom. A kingdom of power such as the Devil had in his gift, and offered to Christ, to be declined by him in favour of the kingdom of love. I, too, must decline it, and live in the kingdom of love. This was another moment of perfect clarification, when everything fitted together in sublime symmetry; when I saw clearly the light and the darkness, freedom and servitude, the bright vistas of eternity and the prison bars of time. I went racing back over the snow to K[itty, his wife], breathing in the dry icy air in great gulps of thankfulness.

This is what our Lord offers. Not the compromised wishes and power trips of thieving politicians, but the “brights vistas of eternity” in His glorious presence.

Merry Christmas!

A recent lewrockwell.com blog post notes that people cherish coronations. I’m reminded of being in London ten years ago. Before we entered the dark room in the Tower of London to see the crown jewels, they played a video of Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation on a large screen. The music, the sights… unforgettable and glorious. We went in to see the jewels and I remember going several times across the conveyors to see them again and again. They were a hint of far greater things. It was one of those moments that make an entire vacation.

Men desire a king. The Israelites desired one (1 Sam 8:5) despite God’s warning. Although we live in a (mostly nominal by now) republic, when you listen to people cheer lawless politicians you would think we were a nation of men, of great kings expected to do Great Things, rather than a nation of laws. There is something more romantic about the former. Of course, there is something far more sinister to it also (1 Sam 8:11-18). As Tolkien noted, “[T]he most improper job of any man, even saints… is bossing other men. Not one in a million is fit to it, and least of all those who seek the opportunity.”

Still, there is something deep within us that makes us desire a great coronation. You see one at the end of the original Star Wars. You see another (beautifully shot) at the end of Return of the King. My theory is that all earthly coronations either wickedly imitate or weakly point to the return of our Lord to whom every knee will bow (Phil. 2:10).

In pondering John 7 recently, our pastor mentioned God’s work in the life of Nicodemus. The Pharisees were blind guides who could not see the living Word right in front of their eyes. They could not “see” their own Creator right in front of them despite being the keepers of His law. But even among these hardened men, there was a remnant: Nicodemus. The light bulb slowly seems to go on in this learned man’s eyes. Our pastor noted that we should draw encouragement from this.

God is at work. He is at work in our lives. He is at work in the lives of people who do foolish and wicked things. He’s working in in the lives of scoffers. We never know how this will come to fruition. Some may be further hardened, others may be reborn as great saints in faith. However, we should never give up in praying for others. We should never see anyone as irredeemable; we don’t know all of God’s sheep. We shouldn’t give up on our own reprehensible selves.

So, what to do? Do what we’re supposed to do, remembering what Luther said:

Work and let him give the fruits thereof! Rule, and let him prosper it! Battle, and let him give victory! Preach, and let him make hearts devout! Marry, and let him give you children! Eat and drink, and let him give you health and strength. Then it will follow that, whatever we do, he will effect everything through us; and to him alone shall be the glory.

Are people going nuts? I have seen and heard of a number of marriages breaking up recently in strange ways. And now comes the odd story of South Carlina Governor Mark Sanford.

Trend researcher Gerald Celente says that when people lose everything, they tend to lose it. True, perhaps, but in all of the cases I’ve heard of, the economy was at best indirectly involved in these marital situations. (I’ve said it many times before, but I believe that the real disaster is yet to come with the economy).

Every time a moral downfalls occurs, we get the usual flood of mockers who are only too happy to pounce. “Ha, another Christian hypocrite!” To the mocker, it’s better to set the bar an inch off the ground and step over it than to set the bar six feet off the ground and fail in jumping over it.

This isn’t to excuse Mark Sanford. He may be an unrepentant fraud for all I know. Church history is replete with them. The Bible warns of those among us who were never of us.

While I don’t want to downplay it, hypocrisy is a fact of life with all believers to some extent, even if it does not lead to scandalous sin. I’ve experienced enough of myself to know that I’m at the head of the “pathetic loser” line. However, to mockers, you’re either perfect or a fake. That’s quite convenient for them. If no man can jump their bar, then they posit that no man has the right to speak God’s judgment against them.

However, man does have the right to do exactly that. God commands it. God commands pastors and elders (sinners all!) to proclaim His righteous judgment. You see, mockers, when R.C. Sproul and Tim Bayly and John MacArthur say that the unrepentant will be thrown into Hell, they’re just proclaiming what Jesus said. If it were only their opinion, it wouldn’t matter, but Jesus Christ, the King of Kings, has proclaimed it. Therefore it matters. Even if you shut up every messenger, the message remains. The eternal God remains. Judgment is coming. There’s no stopping it.

And know this, mockers: God doesn’t grade on a curve. I measure my relative successes against others (and overlook my failures) as well as any sinner, but one man’s scandal doesn’t make you look good to God by comparison. God isn’t comparing you to other people. He’s comparing you to a standard of perfect obedience. If you aren’t trusting in Christ– that is, if you don’t have the imputed, spotless perfection of Christ’s righteousness– then you are on the road to Hell. And you’ll deserve it. The mocking will soon be over.

Mockers, don’t use incidents like this to harden your hearts further. Turn now.

Tiller the Killer escapes again (from a misdemeanor charge!), but a day is coming when there will be no escape.

Behind that there was something else at work, beyond any design of the Ring-maker. I can put it no plainer than by saying that Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, and not by its maker. In which case you also were meant to have it. And that may be an encouraging thought. -JRR Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

The Lord of the Rings is my favorite piece of fiction. It describes a world so vibrant and whole that it is astounding that it came from the mind of one man. Apparently it was derived from its language. I don’t claim to understand it, but I am in awe.

What intrigues me most about LOTR, other than its tremendous story and “tips of the hat” to Byzantium, is its genuinely mature worldview. Middle Earth is a world inhabited by conflicted characters facing ascendant evil. Often an air of defeat and doom hangs over it. This is occasionally relieved by sometimes stunning victories. Mordor is evil, but even Middle Earth’s heroes are tempted, conflicted, wavering, and even overcome by darkness. Some of its most virtuous characters — Gandalf, Galadriel — are supremely suspicious of wielding power. They do not trust themselves with the Ring (the subject of power in Middle Earth is fascinating). Sometimes the Fellowship fails miserably. Frodo fails at the greatest moment of his worldly glory. However, a silent One works behind it all, often using the unimportant things of the world. The creation is blessed by the small and seemingly insignificant. These blessings come as unexpected, unrecognized surprises. The darkness is wounded as it seems ready to triumph completely. A small band that has not bent the knee to Sauron triumphs.

It doesn’t seem as if all these things are there purposely. You don’t really notice it just by reading the story. There are no tendentious attempts to pound it home. It’s be there because that’s just the way it is in Middle Earth.

That’s the way it is for us, too. The moon surprises us one night and we never quite forget how it looked. Someone says something at a grocery and we are never quite the same. A book someone gave us long ago suddenly is ready to speak to us. When I look at things that have changed my life, I always get the sense that I’ve stumbled over them while heading elsewhere.

God the great Creator of all things does uphold, direct, dispose, and govern all creatures, actions, and things, from the greatest even to the least, by His most wise and holy providence, according to His infallible foreknowledge, and the free and immutable counsel of His own will, to the praise of the glory of His wisdom, power, justice, goodness, and mercy. -Westminster Confession, Chapter 5

The economy is tanking, and I believe we’ve seen but the tip of the iceberg. Wickedness seems ascendant in our land. However, you can go out on any clear night and look up. And you really need to get outside and do just that sometime this winter. Few sights beat a clear, starry December sky. If there’s snow on the ground and you can see your breath, well, that’s better yet.

Jupiter and Venus are lighting up the southwest.

Look south and you’ll see Orion and his brilliant belt, with Sirius the dog star following behind. I’ve always thought Orion’s belt looked more like a the head of a crowned king, with the murky M42 area the hair at the base of the king’s neck. We have a south-facing home, and so every night when I head to bed I look for the belt. It is a glorious thing that never gets old. It reminds me that evil men come and go, but the stars, those incandescent lights of unimaginable size, remain, silently looking down. It’s a reminder that Christ remains and His purposes cannot be thwarted.

For those of you blessed enough to live in a rural area, look to the western sky and you’ll see the Northern Cross (also known as Cygnus the swan) standing upright. What a perfect Christmas-time sight.

When I attempted, a few minutes ago, to describe our spiritual longings, I was omitting one of their most curious characteristics. We usually notice it just as the moment of vision dies away, as the music ends or as the landscape loses the celestial light. … For a few minutes we have had the illusion of belonging to that world. Now we wake to find that it is no such thing. We have been mere spectators. Beauty has smiled, but not to welcome us; her face was turned in our direction, but not to see us. -CS Lewis, The Weight of Glory

Expanding on my recent post, consider the creation. In our yards, countless worms burrow every morning. Bugs fly around. Birds seek food. Perennials drop their leaves to hunker down for a long winter. All of it happens whether I exist or not. It happens whether I feel good or ill. No government program can stop it.

The world goes to work on Monday morning– without calling me first. My wife and family do countless things throughout the day that I never hear of. Our cat jumps on our table when we’re not in the room (she’s too dumb to know that the fur gives it away).

The point: none of it has anything to do with me. Or you. We’re not even in control of our own lives. All around us, economies rise and fall, elections and layoffs happen, people die, etc. Even in the things where it seems we are masters of our destiny, like where we work, upon a little reflection it turns out that our control is an illusion.

It’s all about Him. And when He returns, when the King comes, everything will vanish before His throne. The loftiest sports stars and politicians and nations will be as nothing– how could they ever have been a big deal? All will be clear. The eyes of all creation, which often seems robotic and yet waits with longing (Rom 8:17), will be on its Maker.

If we believe this, maybe it should inform how we live now.

Wow. I don’t remember our high school choir sounding quite like this. Quite a story, too.

How can I tell of the rest of creation, with all its beauty and utility, which the divine goodness has given to man to please his eye and serve his purposes, condemned though he is, and hurled into these labors and miseries? Shall I speak of the manifold and various loveliness of sky, and earth, and sea; of the plentiful supply and wonderful qualities of the light; of sun, moon, and stars; of the shade of trees; of the colors and perfume of flowers; of the multitude of birds, all differing in plumage and in song; of the variety of animals, of which the smallest in size are often the most wonderful,— the works of ants and bees astonishing us more than the huge bodies of whales? ; Shall I speak of the sea, which itself is so grand a spectacle, when it arrays itself as it were in vestures of various colors, now running through every shade of green, and again becoming purple or blue … How grateful is the alternation of day and night! how pleasant the breezes that cool the air! how abundant the supply of clothing furnished us by trees and animals! ; Who can enumerate all the blessings we enjoy? If I were to attempt to detail and unfold only these few which I have indicated in the mass, such an enumeration would fill a volume. And all these are but the solace of the wretched and condemned, not the rewards of the blessed. ; What then shall these rewards be, if such be the blessings of a condemned state? What will He give to those whom He has predestined to life, who has given such things even to those whom He has predestined to death? What blessings will He in the blessed life shower upon those for whom, even in this state of misery, He has been willing that His only-begotten Son should endure such sufferings even to death? Thus the apostle reasons concerning those who are predestined to that kingdom: ; He that spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also give us all things? (Romans 8:32) When this promise is fulfilled, what shall we be? What blessings shall we receive in that kingdom, since already we have received as the pledge of them Christ’s dying? In what condition shall the spirit of man be, when it has no longer any vice at all; when it neither yields to any, nor is in bondage to any, nor has to make war against any, but is perfected, and enjoys undisturbed peace with itself? Shall it not then know all things with certainty, and without any labor or error, when unhindered and joyfully it drinks the wisdom of God at the fountain-head? -Augustine, City of God, XXII

As we age, God shows us more how we are, in the end, unprofitable servants (Luke 17:10). As Lewis said, “All this is flashy rhetoric about loving you; I’ve never had a selfless thought since I was born.” Any godliness noticed by others in widescreen pales when we consider our minute-by-minute lives. We don’t need a microscope to see our countless, faithless thoughts, words, and deeds. Therefore, a hearty “Amen” to this observation by R.C. Sproul. Consider it.

In one respect, Christ’s sinlessness is more astonishing than his resurrection. Other people have come back from the dead, but no other person has lived a sinless life. His perfect life is amazing because no one of us has ever loved the Lord with all of his mind, heart, and strength. … Can you imagine someone living every minute of his entire life loving God with an undiluted, perfect affection, whose whole mind is devoted to the Father, who has no other desire than to obey the Father’s will? That is more difficult for me to comprehend than that Jesus came out of the grave. -from Truths We Confess

Even mushy evangelicals aren’t enamored of feminist harpies. You know, the wild hairs who march around with coat hangers. But I find “Christian egalitarians” far more offensive. They deny things that no one seriously denied for two thousand years. They speak in measured tones about “mutual submission” and “creating opportunities for women” while reading their TNIVs and denying the authority of Scripture. That’s really what the whole debate about feminism, just like the debate about homosexuality, comes down to: denying that the Holy Spirit has come along as intellectually and morally far as us moderns.

That said, Gene Veith notes that it’s easy, given necessary wars against egalitarian heresies, to see passages like Ephesians 5:22 solely as dealing with authority and yet missing the point that the whole purpose of vocation, including marriage, is to love and serve one’s neighbor, and the husband is to take the lead in establishing it:

If marriage mirrors the relationship between Christ and the church, with the husband in Christ’s role, then the husband ought first to give himself up for his wife, whereupon in response the wife, playing the part of the church, will respond by submitting to his good intentions for her. -God at Work, p. 81-82

When we went through marriage counseling last century, my pastor at the time pointedly remarked how ridiculous it was to see women driving men around town. He imitated a guy sitting like a lump in the front seat, with the lady doing the work and leading the way. I think that remark came on a day when my wife-to-be drove me to the church. Now I drive most of the time.

Another area where I have come to find a cheap and fresh joy is in seating my wife in the car before I get in. It seemed unnatural at first, but now I get such as pleasure from it that I can barely bear to not do it. It’s too enjoyable to miss. Similarly, it’s fun to let my wife off at the front door of a restaurant while I go park and trudge through the snow or rain. Does she appreciate it? You bet she does. My love and service is lacking in many other areas, but these minor victories are a small picture of Christ’s joyful service for us. As John Piper is fond of pointing out, Jesus endured the cross for the joy set before Him (Hebrews 12:2).

Back in the early 90s heyday of Windows 3.x, someone created a funny little program called Tiny Elvis. From time to time, a little Elvis Presley figure would arouse from slumber at the bottom of your desktop and say things like “hey man, check out that cursor… that thing is huuuge!”

That came to mind when reading Ephesians 3:14-21 recently:

14 For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, 15 from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, 16 that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, 17 so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith that you, being rooted and grounded in love, 18 may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, 19 and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. 20 Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, 21 to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

What strikes me about this prayer is how massively big it is. It sounds too grand to pray that those we know would be filled with “all the fullness of God.” That’s full. And yet Paul goes on to say that our Lord is able to “do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think.” So my advice would be: go for it. Pray big prayers.

My sister-in-law went to be with the Lord yesterday morning. In any Christian home where death comes, it is supremely painful to see the suffering and the wailing, and yet also a soul-expanding joy to see compassion, hearts filled with grace and tenderness, and a quiet hope. These are things we see through suffering. Perhaps it is for this reason the Preacher says in Ecclesiastes 7:

A good name is better than precious ointment, and the day of death than the day of birth. It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting, for this is the end of all mankind, and the living will lay it to heart. Sorrow is better than laughter, for by sadness of face the heart is made glad. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth.

I’ve posted this quote from Lewis before, but it is so true:

The settled happiness and security which we all desire, God withholds from us, but joy, pleasure, and merriment He has scattered broadcast. We are never safe, but we have plenty of fun, and some ecstasy. It is not hard to see why. The security we crave would teach us to rest our hearts in the world and [pose] an obstacle to our return to God: a few moments of happy love, a landscape, a symphony, a merry meeting with our friends, a bathe or a football match, have no such tendency. Our Father refreshes us on the journey with some pleasant inns, but will not encourage us to mistake them for home.

Many of our prayers are not answered because they are things that God has not promised to answer (like when I prayed that the Indians would finally win the World Series). But what does God promise we can pray with total confidence: that all things work together for good for his children (Rom 8:28), that our light and momentary afflictions prepare believers for an eternal weight of glory, and that the dead will live again (1 Thess 4:13-17). There are a hundred others. Think on these things (Phil 4:4-8) and rejoice with a joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory (1 Peter 1:8).

If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory. -Colossians 3:1-4

If our chief end is to glorify God and enjoy Him forever, then shouldn’t that be modeled in our prayers? In group intercession times, I’m struck by how prayer requests are almost always for individual, temporal concerns.

There’s nothing wrong with praying for Bob’s hip, traveling mercies for Mildred, Earl’s adjustment to college life, or that second-cousin Bobby would grow up big and strong. However, instead of prayer laundry lists befitting a pagan, how about God-centered and distinctly Christian prayers? These are brief and lacking examples, but they seem closer to the things that preoccupied the apostles: that our denomination would be shielded from false teachers, that our congregation would be knit together in love, that we be given greater measures of grace to bear fruit, that we we come to recognize our sin and more greatly appreciate the righteousness and mercy of Christ, that we would boldly declare and glorify Christ before a perishing world, that we would know what it is to “rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory” (1 Peter 1:8), etc. Some of these may seem general, but (a) the church can always use more “we” and (b) it can easily be adapted to specific circumstances. For example, when praying for Bob’s hip, we might pray that he would know that his momentary afflictions are preparing him for an eternal weight of glory (2 Cor 4:17). Or we might pray that God’s grace in helping him cope would be a lasting witness to unbelievers.

Revelation is designed not only to assure us of God’s final purposes, but also to increase our longing for him and the realization of his purpose. The sureness of that final bliss comforts the saints during times of temptation and persecution. It purifies our desires by directing them to God and his glory. And then the tawdry counterfeits of this world are seen to be what they are. We have eyes to see the beauties and joys of this creation as pointers to God and his goodness (Acts 14:17), rather than foolishly perverting created things into idols (Rom. 1:18-23). -Vern Poythress, The Returning King, p. 193.

After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb! -Rev 7:9-10

Every day people — immortal souls — come in and out of our lives, all in one of two classes: believers and unbelievers, wheat and chaff, sheep and goats, circumcised hearts and uncircumcised hearts. Some move away and we muse on whether we will ever see them again. We hope and pray they will join us in that vast throng pictured in Revelation 7 (and repent that we weren’t a better witness). All on this tiny globe hurtling through infinite space.

It’s far too vast to contemplate. Eventually one ends up back in the same spot:

O Lord, my heart is not lifted up;my eyes are not raised too high; I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me. -Psalm 131:1

I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. -Is. 42:16

I dread things, especially stuff at work. “Oh no, something unfamiliar is coming up this week; failure awaits!” You vainly search a barren desert for a rock to hide behind, but cannot find even a pebble.

Calvin Coolidge’s famous quote is certainly true: “If you see ten troubles coming down the road, you can be sure that nine will run into the ditch before they reach you.” But it is not encouraging. What if the thing you dread is the 1 in 10?

What is encouraging are the promises made to believers, so beautifully stated by Cowper in “God Moves in a Mysterious Way:”

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy and shall break
In blessings on your head.

…

His purposes will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
The bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.

And some things that should not have been forgotten were lost. History became legend. Legend became myth. -narrator in Fellowship of the Ring

Another July 4 has gone by, one where once again we drank in large gulps the blessing of family, wishing time would stand still. To paraphrase Lewis, it was a very pleasant inn.

As often happens, a small comment captured me: my oldest sister was shocked to learn that there was once a Kroger grocery in our hometown. She never knew that until tonight.

How much knowledge is lost with every passing soul; how quickly it fades away! My great grandfather fought in the Civil War; today we know little of him. My aunt, frail and in her 90s, remembers sitting upon his knee as a small child. That is most of what I know of him.

I can ask my mom what life was like growing up in the 1930s. She has presented many small slices. Some are even in writing or on tape. However, the intricacies of family life and the farm are lost except for perhaps a few anecdotes that will be repeated to the next generation. A generation or two after that, even that will likely be gone.

Look about you now. Think of your family, of your town, of your life. Most of what you see and know will be lost to the ages in 50 years. In 100 years, our children’s children will perhaps wonder what we all used to talk about, what life was like for us, what we were like. I’m doing little more than restating Ecclesiastes, but how few are our years.

I do not think history is lost. God knows it, after all. It seems not too speculative to say that heaven will be rich with history.

When the waters saw you, O God,when the waters saw you, they were afraid; indeed, the deep trembled. -Psalm 77:16

even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is as bright as the day, for darkness is as light to you. -Psalm 139:12

You never quite know what’s going to come in from the deep when you snorkel in the ocean. I’ve been surprised by sea turtles, grouper, barracuda, and small jellyfish (sadly, no reef sharks!). I remember floating once over a shallow shelf being startled to see an eel lurking out of a hole about a foot under my stomach. There was no room to paddle, so floating was the only option; it seemed to take forever to steer clear as I watched the little fellow ominously grinning the way eels do.

Once I joined a night manta dive in Hawaii. Never having learned to scuba, I snorkeled alone while the divers went to the bottom. They shot floodlights from there. From the dark, silent waters, huge mantas eerily wandered into the lit areas. Some majestically glided a few feet beneath where I floated.

I eventually became more interested in looking away from the rays, the boats, and the shoreline, and out into the murky blackness all around. The water was lapping about me. I thought about what lurks out there. Was a hammerhead sizing me up? I looked down and was startled to not see the lights any longer. The divers had gone back to the ship and I was alone! For a brief moment the terror of the deep hit me. How horrible it’d be to be left floating in the vast ocean alone at night! I can’t describe it, but I’ll never forget it.

To paraphrase C.S. Lewis, our God is not a tame lion.

Last weekend presented a nice opportunity: clear skies and a new moon (well, close enough). And so the telescope and I visited my boyhood back yard, well away from the city.

It may be an urban legend, but I read once where a power outage occurred in a city and many residents reported seeing UFOs and other strange sights in the sky. It turns out that they were just seeing the stars and the Milky Way. Much can be said for urban conveniences, but it’s really a shame that many never get to see the stars in their glory. In rural areas, light pollution — the combined result of security lights, all-night gas stations, etc. — is increasingly a problem. The back yard isn’t what it once was, and that is a sad thing.

In any event, as we sit in our houses reading, conversing, watching a ball game, or sleeping, the heavens silently declare God’s glory. Observing the lovely M3 last Friday, it struck me that this thing is there every day and night, waiting for all to look upon its glory. It’s a half a million stars, 34 thousand light years away from the earth. Not far away in the sky is M51, the Whirlpool Galaxy. It looks like a smudgy blob in my telescope. It’s not like the pictures, but still, but there it is, countless numbers (trillions?) of stars forming a galaxy 30+ million light years from our own galaxy.

M3 and M51 are two glorious, mind-boggling profusions of splendor amid trillions in God’s great universe.

If you get a chance, go out around the time of the next new moon and see the heavens. Take along a planisphere and some binoculars and just sweep along the Milky Way. Enjoy God through His creation.

There are wise and kind words here not only for a pastor, but for all of us with elderly parents and relatives.

The benediction that we pronounce today with hands uplifted is a symbolic expression of the minister touching his people… Jesus understood the importance of touching those to whom He ministered. Very often, when He healed people, He touched them. We see a beautiful example of this in Matthew 8… Jesus not only healed the leper, He touched the man. Jesus ministered to his physical need and also to his need for human contact. People today need that touch. That’s why an important moment in church on Sunday morning is when the pastor interacts with the worshipers as they depart. I tell my students in the seminary that there’s an art to greeting people at the door after the church service. It’s vitally important for the pastor to extend his hand and at least offer to shake hands with every person who comes by. Some will walk right by, but the vast majority of people want to stop and shake the pastor’s hand. If that person is an elderly man or woman, and especially if it is an elderly widow, the pastor should never, ever shake with one hand. He must take that lady’s hand in both of his hands. Why? It is because she needs that special touch, because she experiences loneliness. In giving her that tender, loving touch, the pastor is being Christ to the people, giving the Master’s touch in His name to people who are afraid, or who are lonely, or who are hurting. People want to be touched, not in an evil sense, but in a tender and merciful sense, in a human sense. -R.C. Sproul, A Taste of Heaven, p.165-66

But, you object, a heart like mine can offer Christ so little — at best, so poor and pinched and stingey a hospitality and such meagre fare; for I have nothing worthy of Him to set before Him, only a kind of affection, real enough at times, but which, at others, can and does so easily forget; only a will, quite unreliable, deplorably unstable; only a faith that is the merest shadow of what His real friends mean when they speak about faith, I know. But, there was once a garret up under the roof, a poor, bare place enough. There was a table in it, and there were some benches, and a water-pot; a towel, and a basin in behind the door, but not much else — a bare, unhomelike room. But the Lord Christ entered into it. And, from that moment, it became the holiest of all, where souls innumerable ever since have met the Lord God, in High glory, face to face. And, if you give Him entrance to that very ordinary heart of yours, it too He will transform and sanctify and touch with a splendour of glory. -AJ Gossip

A wonderful, 1826 passage from Swiss pastor Felix Neff, quoted from “Evangelicalism Divided:”

[I]n this impure and dark world, this obscure quarry, whence the Great Builder is pleased to take some stones for his edifice, what shall we find, but work-yards for a season, where everything appears to be in a movement and disorder? What unshapen stones, what rubbish, what fragments!

How many things fit only for temporary service! How many arrangements merely provisional! How many mercenaries and foreigners are occupied in these quarries… How many dissentions among the laborers, how many conjectures and disputes about the final purposes of the Great Architect… which are known only to Himself! Shall we search in this chaos for the true church, the spiritual temple? Shall we endeavor to arrange, in one exact and uniform order, all those stones that we find in the various quarries opened in a thousand places in the world? Oh, how much wiser is the Master! While some are disputing about the excellence of this or the other department of the work; and while others are spending their strength in endeavoring to introduce perfect order, the wise Master-builder surveys, in silence, the vast scene of operations, chooses and marks the materials which he sees to be prepared amidst all this confusion, and causes them to be removed and placed in his heavenly edifice; assigning to every piece the place most proper for it, and for which he has designed it. Such, my beloved brethren, is the sublime idea which we ought to form of this universal church. Oh! How contemptible now will appear, in our eyes, those endless disputes which have at all times divided the believers, and continue to do so to the present day. Let us rather labor in the quarry where our work is assigned, to prepare as great a quantity of materials as possible; and especially, let us entreat the Lord to make us all lively stones fit for his building. Amen!

Commenting on Luke 24:50 (“Then he led them out as far as Bethany, and lifting up his hands he blessed them.”), Hendriksen says:

Acts 1:11 “This same Jesus will come back in the same way.”
If, then, he departed while blessing his disciples, and if he is coming again with blessing for his church, does it not follow that even now, during the intervening period, he, as representative of the Triune God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, delights in being for his people a source of blessing? Also, that he wants us, in a derived or secondary manner, to be a blessing to everyone with whom we come into contact?

And on Luke 24:51 (“While he blessed them, he parted from them and was carried up into heaven.”):

Matt. 28:20 “I am with you always.”
He departed in order to remain with his church; in fact, now more than ever. When he was still on earth he was not able physically to be everywhere at the same time. But now that he is in heaven he is able, in and through the Holy Spirit, to be everywhere (not bodily, to be sure, but spiritually). Also, while he was still on earth he was present with the church. Now he is present in the church. In other words, he has departed from us in order to draw closer to us.