And it Came to Pass

 

I love words and phrases that plainly--or covertly--express meanings we usually overlook. I mean, the word "discover" means "take the cover off of," right? I like noticing that the word "because" contains the word "cause"; compactly conveying the meaning "the cause is that..." When the Bible says "it came to pass," do we see what's really being said there? The idiom means "it happened." But what the words are really saying is that it came...and then it went. The event arrived in our present, only to pass into history. 

Nothing in our world is permanent, another saying goes, except God's word and people. Even the heavens and earth that are now will pass away, and a new heaven and earth will replace them (Revelation 21). (This is how we know the earth isn't going to die because of pollution or climate change; this planet isn't going anywhere by any means other than these words of Scripture "coming to pass.") The phrase, then, speaks more truth than we realize. Everything about this world system and the material things we value has or will "come to pass." It comes. It goes. Almost as if it comes for the purpose of passing. 

"And it came to pass" is saying to us that the only permanence rests in God's kingdom. The new heaven and earth, the life, the rewards, each other, and God Himself in Three Persons. All of that, when we are in Jesus Christ, comes to stay. 

Questions About Questions (Questions #4)

 

Did you ever have so many questions that your questions had questions? That may be a bit of an exaggeration for me; long ago, as a high-achieving child, I thought the smart people weren't the ones with the questions but the ones with the answers. (In a similar vein, I had a like-minded friend who wouldn't use pencils that had erasers, because erasers were only for people who might make mistakes. O Lord, have mercy. Seriously.) But compared to spouting answers, isn't knowing what questions to ask perhaps the greater skill? 

I've found that sometimes questions are just lovely in themselves. It occurs to me that some are to be pondered, some enjoyed, some even perhaps forgotten, and others pursued to answers. But not necessarily rushed to answers. How wonderful, even luxurious, is time given to think, research, pray, and "wisdom" them through, those that call to us. For example:

• Lord, what questions do You want me to ask You today?

That's kind of what I mean about questions having questions. We often hear of the importance of asking the right questions. This concept of "right questions" may be puzzling at first. What's wrong with any question we may have? Often, nothing. The encouragement that "no question is a stupid question" is valid, especially when learning something new. Yet in many circumstances, asking the right questions during a discussion or exploration can lead us to the point, instead of beside the point. It can make the difference between solving and not solving a problem. It can even reveal motive and character. Our spontaneous or formulated questions can tell on us, and reflect either well or poorly.

The Pharisees and Sadducees asked Jesus a lot of questions that were meant to trap Him. "Should we pay taxes to Caesar?" "Which commandment is the greatest?" "If a woman's husbands keep dying so that she ends up marrying an entire family of brothers, how is that going to work if there's a resurrection of the dead?" When the Scripture says in Matthew 22:43 that no one dared ask Him any more questions, it means they stopped asking Him questions designed to trip Him up, because the answers Jesus gave only exposed their scheming and made them look ignorant. 

We can still ask our real questions.

Even so, some questions might be frivolous, or ones He's already answered (He might be silent on those), or might lead us away from what God would really like to say. So let's go back to the question above:

Lord, what questions do You want me to ask You today?

I've been asking it. I haven't heard a lot yet. But the realization that it could add a wonderful dimension to prayer time has quickened my spirit.

Lord, what questions do You want me to ask You today? 

Without a Vision

 

"Without a vision, the people perish" is one of those partial Scripture verses people quote from time to time. I don't remember when I first heard it, but it was long ago, and my first understanding of it was very modern-day American: If you don't have an inspiring plan for your future, your life will turn out numb and meaningless. 

Well, plans are good. Stepping out to pursue something you believe God is leading you toward is even better. But what's wrong with my initial interpretation is that it's so me-centered, which is to say, individualistic. Let's look at several translations of the verse in Proverbs 29:18, because the wording varies in interesting ways.

"Where there is no vision, the people perish: but he that keepeth the law, happy is he" (KJV).

"Where there is no revelation, the people cast off restraint; but happy is he who keeps the law" (NKJV).

"When people do not accept divine guidance, they run wild. But whoever obeys the law is joyful" (NLT).

"Where there is no vision [no revelation of God and His word], the people are unrestrained; but happy and blessed is he who keeps the law [of God]" (AMP 2015).

Notice the difference between "perish" and "cast off restraint" or "are not restrained"--these would seem not to be that close in meaning. My study suggests that "perish" is the less accurate of the two renderings; this verse is not, for example, meant as a call to evangelism. Taking several translations side by side reveals that "vision" isn't referring here to an individual's specific dream for their own life, but a revelation to an entire people of what God requires. The focus is society, or community. Think about this in terms of American society today. Have we cast off restraint? We absolutely have. There is nothing new under the sun, because the ominous ending of the Book of Judges describes us well: "In those days there was no king in Israel; every man did what was right in his own eyes." We are no longer united under God as king, nor are we united politically (both parties declare "Not my president!" when someone from the other party is in office), nor do we allow anyone to tell us what to do. Our lifestyles, short of stealing and killing, are our own business. 

We turn individualistic and throw off restraint when we see no vision for us as a people. And then perhaps we begin to see where the perishing comes in. Freedom is only freedom with some restraints in place. A toddler who can run with glee all over a fenced-in yard will soon not be so gleeful if the fence is removed and they can run full-tilt into a parking lot, pond, or street. 

Without divine guidance, we run wild. And as a society, have gotten much, much unhappier. "But whoever obeys the law is joyful," says the NLT, and suddenly we are back in the singular. No matter what else is going on, no matter who is doing what, when we stick with God and His ways, even in the midst of community chaos, we can, as individuals and as the body of Christ, experience joy in Him. 

Prayer for the Lukewarm

 

Dear Lord, You say You will spit them out of your mouth. 

I think it surprises us. We would expect being cold to You would be worse. But not.

Father, I think it's that "cold" is not deceptive, because it's definite. Like "hot," it's extreme. Unmistakable. Those who hate You, want nothing to do with You, don't believe in You, even blaspheme You, can turn. So can the hot who are hot in the wrong way; and maybe such people can be hot and cold at the same time. Saul, after all, hot for the Pharisees yet cold for Christ, became Paul.

But the lukewarm have that little bit of warmth. They are neither/nor, and that is deceptive. Also comfortable, something You've never promised following You will be.

Perhaps they've checked a box. "I believe in Jesus; I'm going to heaven," but no desire to please You is evident in them. No picking up their cross, no saying no to the things You say no to, continuing to live with their own plans and opinions as their guide. Or perhaps they're philanthropic, giving to the poor, honest in their dealings, affirming every lifestyle, labeled a "good Christian example" by the world, when what they're really doing is approving of sin (Romans 1) and preaching a different Jesus. Or perhaps they attend church regularly as part of their weekly schedule, and believe that makes the difference, thinking membership in an institution determines who reaches heaven. Or perhaps they say they try to obey Jesus' teachings, which they interpret as being a good person and judging no one, when they have no real idea of the hard things Jesus taught, when judgment applies, or that the main point isn't the teachings but the death and resurrection they need for themselves. 

Lukewarmness is the temperature mostly likely to lull people to think they're "in" when maybe they're not; lukewarmness is noncommittal, unbothered, trying to be two things and achieving neither. Hot and cold are far less easy to mistake, including for the hot or cold person in question. In a very real sense, hot and cold are both closer to You than lukewarm is, because lukewarm is the place of stuck. The place of oblivious. The place of "I didn't know anything needed to change" and "But I'm fine--aren't I?"

Father, help us all--hot, cold, or lukewarm--because none of us will ever reach a place where we can say, "I got this, God." But I pray especially here for the lukewarm, the ones who don't realize or don't care to face that merely being Jesus-adjacent in some way might still cost them their soul. Oh Lord, there are too many of them on the wide road to destruction. You said the way is narrow and few find it. Oh, I believe the new heavens and new earth will be full of people who are Yours--yet a fraction of all who ever lived. Jesus said no one can come to Him unless You draw them. Draw them, Father. In these last days of grace, draw them.

I've prayed a lot about them. May I never be so proud that I think it's "all those others" who don't have You. But Father, given the choice of hot, cold, and lukewarm, I choose hot. Help me, every step of the way, to make that choice true.