Home

Home [hohm], n.: "the place where one's domestic affections are centred"

The dictionary has other, more sterile definitions of the word "home", but all of them deal in some way with ideas of nativeness, regularity, comfort, what is common or usual, security. When we talk about a house or residence, we don't necessarily attach any emotion to that place of shelter. But far more often, when we refer to our home, there is a sense of familiarity that brings with it affection and comfort. Even when our home is a difficult place to be, even when it is not a peaceful place, we can still feel a sense of homesickness when we're away. There is a comfort in the familiar, even when what is familiar is not particularly pleasant. And how much more so when home is a happy place!

I've been thinking about the idea of home a lot recently. Not surprising, as we've just moved to a new house. Again. I won't get into all the details right now, or I might never actually finish this post, but yes, a few weeks ago, we packed up all our earthly belongings (except the boxes that are still at the cottage from 2 moves ago!) and moved from our downtown condo to a little house on the other side of the city. This was not my ideal move--to a place I was excited about, well-organized, meticulously planned for months. It was rather sudden (to my slow-and-steady-wins-the-race brain, anyway). I've never lived on the east end and until last month, wouldn't have had a clue where someone was referring to if they'd mentioned the major intersection near our new place. And our move date got changed more than once, and never to a later date! On top of all that, rather than moving with excitement and a clear goal in mind, this move felt foggy and somewhat unclear. By the time we got all our stuff into the new house, we were exhausted and battling depression. I'm not sure that a move is ever exactly "fun", but we found this one particularly hard.

Don't get me wrong--we love our new place. Even though it's not a big house, it feels positively spacious after the condo. There's a fenced yard I can send the kids into. I like the old-school finishes that are so different from the stark modernity we've lived in for the last 3 years. We're on a quiet street with several other families and we feel like our household fits in a little better with the new demographics than with the old. But it's still a move, a transition, a venture into the unfamiliar. And right at the moment, I'm tired of change. The morning we first woke up in our old bed in our new house, Nathan turned to me and said, "I don't ever want to move again!" And I hear him. Not only is a move a lot of work, it's a lot of change, and no matter how much some people may love new adventures, God has wired all of us to crave the comfort of security and stability in some way.

The problem is that most of us don't get complete stability and security in our earthly homes. Almost all of us move at some point, and some of us many times over. Even people who live in the same home for decades will see family members come and go from the household over the years and will experience change in the neighbourhood around them. We want the comfort of a stable home, but jobs change, families change, finances change, goals change and houses eventually fall apart. So it struck me, that first morning in our new residence which was not yet a home, when I read Psalm 27 and came across a very familiar verse that suddenly had a very pressing application. The psalmist is in the midst of turmoil and war, but he boldly states his confidence in this insecure setting and claims in verse 4, "One thing have I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to inquire in his temple." What does he make his permanent home? Not the beautiful palace he built, not with his family, not a place free of earthly strife and confusion. His main goal is to make God's house his home, and not just in the next life, but all the days of this life.

And why? "For he will hide me in his shelter on the day of trouble" (safety), "He will lift me high upon a rock... lead me on level ground" (stability), "My father and mother have forsaken me but the Lord will take me in" (welcome), and, going back to verse 4, there is great beauty and wisdom to be found there. God's house is the only place where we can find eternal safety, security, welcome, beauty, wisdom and all other things good. And if home is where the heart is, we don't have to wait until we see God's dwelling place with physical eyes to make it our home all the days of this life. The heart that is seeking God's face, having been adopted into God's family through the reconciliation offered to us in the death and resurrection of Christ, has a permanent home now, regardless of the status of our physical address. I can live in a small condo in a concrete jungle, or in a quiet older house surrounded by pleasant gardens or on a farm in the middle of nowhere or in the slums of a third world country. I can move every few months or every couple years or stay in the same place for half a century. I can live alone, with a new roommate, a new husband or an old one. I can have a noisy home full of small children or a busy home of teenage activity or an empty nest of relative silence. And in the midst of all these changes, I can have one permanent, unwavering home.

I want to put some roots down here on the east end. I want to unpack the boxes, hang all the pictures, arrange the furniture in the most pleasing way, tend the garden. I want my kids to settle in and love the place and have fond memories of this childhood house. I want to get to know my neighbours and have them in my home regularly. I want to invest in our new church community and make it my home church. I want to see God working positive change in my family and my neighbours and my church over the long haul. I want my little house to reflect the warmth, welcome, beauty and safety of God's home. But however much this brick-and-mortar building starts to really feel like the place I love to be, I want to seek one thing: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, gazing on his beauty and resting in his shelter, firmly rooted and centring my domestic affections on the permanent home he welcomes us into.


Things to think about and/or comment on:
What is home for you?
Which home have you loved the most and what was it about that particular place that made it especially homey?
How much does your current physical home resemble God's home?
Do you know the comfort and security of dwelling in God's house?
How can we centre our affections more on God's dwelling place?

Moabite Descendants and Other Objects of Wrath

A couple months ago, I had the opportunity to travel to Orlando for the Gospel Coalition Women's Conference, a weekend of great teaching, some good rest, and the chance to hang out with some really old friends (time, not age!) and some brand-new friends. The final conference message was by Don Carson on Nehemiah 13*, addressing common pitfalls of reformation and revival, certainly helpful things to think through as we work and pray toward the growth of God's church here in Toronto. But of all the things he mentioned from this passage, it was an observation from his first point that I've really been thinking through in the last several weeks. Nehemiah 13:1-3 tells us that as the people listened to the law of God being read, they discovered that "no Ammonite or Moabite should ever enter the Assembly of God, for they did not meet the people of Israel with bread and water, but hired Balaam against them to curse them", and that as the people heard this, "they separated from Israel all those of foreign descent". Carson pointed out the danger of going beyond the law, of not only removing those God had specifically asked them to bar, but also anyone at all who was not of Israelite descent. The original law is from Deuteronomy 23, where it says that "no Ammonite or Moabite may enter the assembly of The Lord. Even to the tenth generation, none of them may enter the assembly of the LORD forever... You shall not seek their peace or their prosperity all your days forever." But then it goes on to say that "You shall not abhor an Edomite, for he is your brother. You shall not abhor and Egyptian, because you were a sojourner in his land. Children born to them in the third generation may enter the assembly of the LORD." So clearly, God is not barring all foreigners from the assembly of his people. Carson's point was that in our eagerness to be law-abiders, we can be tempted to go beyond God's requirements, setting up standards that are "higher" and more stringent than even what a holy and righteous God requires. Very true, and something to be guarded against.

But what has really struck me as I've reread the passages from Nehemiah and Deuteronomy over the past several weeks is not so much what WE do with God's standards, but what HE does. As I read Deuteronomy 23 and see the blunt statement that no Moabite is to be permitted in God's assembly, I cannot help but immediately think of the Bible's most well-known Moabite. "No Moabite may enter the assembly of the LORD forever". And yet... Turn over a couple books and find Ruth, a Moabite who, by God's own sovereign appointment, was not only brought into the people of God, but who was great-grandmother to the man after God's own heart, King David. Not even close to ten generations passed before God took the descendant of a Moabite and put him on the throne of Israel. And it doesn't even end there! Generations go by, hundreds of years pass, and who is David's descendant? Jesus himself, God's own son and Saviour of God's people. In his genealogy, Matthew reminds us in no uncertain terms that Ruth (along with a few other "unsavoury" characters) is in the very family line of Jesus.

How is it that God can forbid the inclusion of any Moabite or his descendant in his assembly and then turn around and bring his own son into the world as the descendant of a Moabite?  Only in the same way that we, who were once children of wrath like the rest of mankind, have been made alive together with Christ and seated with him in God's heavenly assembly. BUT GOD, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses... While we were still his enemies, pronouncing curses against God and his people, we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, the son of a Moabite. His great-great-great grandmother was an object of wrath, brought into God's family by grace alone, and through his perfect life, death and resurrection, he now intercedes for all us Moabites who trust in him for our identity, so that we can stand in God's assembly without fear of rejection.

Our God is holy and righteous and his requirements are perfect and good, yes. And our God is unfathomably full of mercy and grace toward those who will come to him confessing that in and of themselves, they have nothing to offer and, in fact, no reason to even hope for his acceptance, apart from Jesus' perfect fulfillment of the entire law of God and his death on the cross for the curse we deserve.

"God so loved the objects of his judicial wrath that He made a sovereign, unconditional Promise to save them, not by setting aside the requirements of His holy Law, but by fulfilling them Himself, in the Person of His beloved Son! 'Lovingkindness and truth have met together; righteousness and peace have kissed each other!' To God be the glory, forever and ever!" (Charles Leiter, The Law of Christ)

Do you know this mercy? And do you extend this mercy to those around you, to the outcasts, to the broken, to the rebellious, to those who don't meet your standards?

Let's rejoice today in such mercy extended to us, and may it flow through us to the world around us to the praise of God's glorious grace!

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*the full audio and video are available here

The Joys of Sin Exposed

I feel like the past couple months have been a season of God exposing various sins in my life, and it hasn't exactly been pleasant. If you've ever had such a season, you know what I mean. We don't like to have our sins exposed. Most of us would be quite thankful to stuff them in the dark back corner of a closet, never to be seen again (and preferably never to be pulled out in the first place). But as I've thought and prayed and meditated on God's Word in this season, I'm also learning to be thankful for sin exposed.

I'm thankful that God sees my sin. We often shudder at the thought of a God who knows all that we do, who sees into the dark back corner of that closet and brings to light what is hidden there. We like to think it would be better if He could just ignore it, or better yet, be completely oblivious to it. But the fact of the matter is that if God didn't see or care about our sin, we'd be stuck with it with no hope of escape. We can't deal with the sin in our lives or its ramifications. "We hope for light, and behold, darkness; and for brightness, but we walk in gloom. We all growl like bears; we moan and moan like doves; we hope for justice, but there is none; for salvation, but it is far from us..." (see Isaiah 59:9-15a)

BUT, the Lord saw it, and yes, it displeased him that there was no justice. And when he saw the sins of the world, ours included, he also saw that there was no man, and wondered that there was no one to intercede, and so his own arm brought him salvation, and he sent a redeemer to his people. (Isaiah 59:15b-20)

Because God is fully aware of our sin and the condemnation it brings, and because he has compassion, he has also provided a way of escape through his son, Jesus, who died to take the penalty for all the sins I'm aware of, and all the ones that are still hidden from my eyes.

I'm thankful that God makes me aware of my sin. I am, of course, also thankful that he does this little by little and not all at once, as that would likely totally destroy me. But if he were simply to deal with the penalty for my sin and never confront me with its existence in my life, I would have at least two problems. One: I would not ever be fully aware of my desperate need for salvation and the ongoing help of the Holy Spirit. It is at the times when I am most aware of my sinfulness that I am also most aware of the beauty of God's grace and mercy toward me at the Cross. I would rather see my sin for what it truly is than to live in a permanent state of apathy toward my salvation. And two: I would never change. Acknowledgement of sin is the first step in turning away from it. Where I am not aware of wrongdoing, I just keep on running over those same ruts, living life the same way and ignorantly persisting in sin. But even as I pray with the Psalmist that God would forgive my "hidden faults", it is good when I am aware of the sin in my life so that I can pray and work toward change. It is far better to grow in grace and become little by little more like my Saviour than to go through life in "peaceful" obliviousness to my hidden faults. So I also pray, "Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting!" (Psalm 39:23, 24)

And I'm thankful that sin exposed and repented of is also removed from me as far as the east is from the west!

I don't enjoy having my sins paraded before me. There are days when the weight of my wrongs feels a little too crushing. But this is not a thing to despise. Just as in seasons of peace, these seasons of battle are God's care for his children, showing us that he is aware of our sin and has fully and finally dealt with it, and then making us abundantly grateful for our salvation and turning us bit by bit into the likeness of his perfectly sinless Son, all to his praise and glory. So I will rejoice in sins exposed, thank God for his kindness that leads to repentance, and by his grace turn around to walk in his ways, to the glory of his name.

Wait For It...

"Are we there yet?" "How much longer?" "We've been on this road for HOURS!" I think I heard these lines more times than I could count last week as we traveled down to Louisville and back. Our kids don't like to sit in the car and wait. They have no appreciation for the joys of the journey. They just want to get to the destination.

But even people who get as much satisfaction out of the drive as they do reaching the final stop aren't necessarily good at waiting when it comes to life. And life is FULL of waiting. I was reminded of this as I talked to some old friends last week, some of whom started their schooling for ministry at the same time we did and who are just now getting a ministry position, others of whom started a long time ago and are still waiting for a place to go. We had to wait what seemed like a long time to us, and even now that we're "there", there are still plenty of things we're waiting on. If you live long enough on this earth (i.e., more than a few minutes) there will be things to wait for. And you'll quickly realize that many of the things we wait for are not things we have control over. If we did, we probably wouldn't be waiting, because waiting is hard. Often when we have to wait for something we get impatient. We may attempt to take matters into our own hands and find a shortcut (experience teaches that this is not usually a good idea). It's why the Bible has to remind us over and over again to wait on The Lord, wait for The Lord, calm and quiet our souls and WAIT.

In a season of waiting for things we desire, things we believe God desires but is not yet giving us, and things that seem good but may not be ours to have in this life, Isaiah 40-41 is an excellent passage to meditate on. I've been soaking in it for a few weeks now, and every time I read it, different phrases or verses jump out at me, giving me new hope, new joy, new reasons to keep waiting. In these chapters, we are told several things about God that inform our waiting. Here are seven of them (there are more, but I don't have time to write a book):

Tough Call

Have you ever been called to something exciting and responded enthusiastically with faith, only to encounter difficulty and discouragement? Have you hit hardships in ministry, trials in parenthood, obstacles in your service? If you're anything like us, these things can have a tendency to make you question whether you are where you're supposed to be, whether you heard the call right, whether God has somehow sent you out only to abandon you on the journey. These are the times when I especially love the "real life" nature of the Bible. I'm so thankful that God's words to us aren't just glorious transcendent ideas that are totally detached from our very earthly experience in a fallen world. There are lots of glorious transcendent ideas, to be sure, but they are woven in and out of the true stories of real men and women who lived, who doubted, who praised, who suffered, who were weak, who were strengthened, who by God's grace pressed on despite their sin and failings and the failings of those around them.

One in particular that has been an encouragement to me lately, in a wintry season of tougher ploughing and some discouragements, is the prophet Isaiah. As I mentioned, when the going gets tough, we can fall to the temptation to doubt God's call on our lives, to wonder if we're on the wrong road. But I think that's because we read about people like Isaiah and his glorious call, and we stop too soon in the story. Isaiah 6 is a common passage to quote at missionary commissioning services. There have been songs written about it. Most of us are familiar with verse 8: "And I heard the voice of the Lord saying, 'Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?' Then I said, 'Here am I! Send me.'" We love this response of faith, the enthusiastic "Here am I! Send me." We want to be that guy. Here is Isaiah: He has just seen a vision of God in all his holiness and all his mercy (verses 1-7). He has had his sins atoned for, and is ready at the call of God to go out and take the news of this holy, merciful God to the people. It's exhilarating!

But we stop too soon if we stop there, because we miss what God's call on Isaiah actually is. For the next 5 verses, Isaiah is informed that his ministry is going to be one of tough ploughing, of closed eyes and ears, of proclaiming destruction alongside that proclamation of mercy. Isaiah starts off with a readiness to go out as the Lord's messenger, and the next thing we hear out of his mouth is "How long, O Lord?" The rest of his ministry is replete with hard messages, difficult circumstances and unhearing people. Isaiah even has to give a hard rebuke to one of the most godly kings of Judah when Hezekiah's pride leads him to foolish action. Of course, Isaiah also has the joy of seeing prayers answered, an enemy army decimated in the night at the Lord's hand, a king miraculously healed of a terminal illness, time turned back on its heels, and the honour of being one of the foremost proclaimers of a coming Messiah who would bring salvation, blessing and peace to his people as he rules in glory. But even the most glorious of callings comes with its share of "How long, O Lord" cries. If we forget this when things are dark, and WE'RE the one crying "How long, O Lord?" we're liable to feel like we've somehow wandered off the path of God's will.

Horses and Chariots

Where are you going to get your strength from today? I know many of us have the stock answer "God", but how often is it truly true? I have to admit that I'm far too often likely to look to other things instead: a good night's sleep, a little alone time, an effective workout, a balanced budget, a productive day, some well-behaved children, another cup of coffee, or maybe hope of a coming spring...

When I first started studying through Isaiah, I read those passages about putting your trust in idols made by human hands, or the horses and chariots of your allies, and thought, "Oh, well of course that's pretty stupid." And then, of course, I had to immediately consider how "stupid" I can be on a daily basis. We certainly don't have any room for horses or chariots (or anything of good size) in our condo. I don't talk to wooden statues, or look to their help to get through the trials of my day. But I still have horses and chariots and idols in less taking-up-space-in-my-living-room forms. Idols aren't just things we love more than God, things we spend more time on than God. Idols also include the things we look to for strength when we should be looking first to God. When things are tight financially, I get strength from adding up all the figures in my head one more time, just to make sure (that I'm in control). When I'm wiped out from an afternoon of disciplining rowdy children, a little "me time" and a good cup of tea or coffee provide comforting respite. When the to-do list is growing, I get my satisfaction and energy from being able to plow through it in a good day of hard work. When the winter blahs are pulling me down, I long for the arrival of some warm air and the little green buds on the trees.

The End of the Matter (Meditations on Ecclesiastes)

Ecclesiastes shows us a world that is marred by sin, condemned to futility, full of oppression and evil. Even though there are joys in life, sometimes it seems that we have been forgotten, that God has abandoned this world and left us to fend for ourselves. In the midst of such circumstances, all of us are on a search for meaning in life, a way to reconcile the fact of our existence in time and space with the apparent chaos and coincidence and futility of so much of what goes on under the sun.

We have seen that ambition and good deeds do not secure us an eternal remembrance, that the ultimate outcome of the universe is out of our control, that some of our questions will not be answered on this side of eternity. So what is one to do? Is there any point to a search for meaning? Or does each individual find their own way to make meaning for themself, something just quenching enough to that thirst for eternal life?

Some will go on searching endlessly. They will go on making books and books of speculation on the matter. They will study and search, always learning but never able to arrive at a knowledge of the truth (Eccl. 12:12, 2 Tim. 3:7), because in truth, they love the study and speculation too much to ever accept a final answer.

But for those who are willing to listen, who want the truth no matter what implications it has for them, the author of Ecclesiastes offers The Answer. After all of his weighing of the futilities of life and the joys of life, after all of his study and asking and thinking, he comes down to "the end of the matter", and it is this: "Fear God and keep his commandments. For this is the whole of man. For God will bring every deed into judgement, with every secret thing, whether good or evil."

The Balance of Wisdom (Meditations on Ecclesiastes)

"There is nothing better for a person than that he should eat and drink and find enjoyment in his toil... 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."

Huh? How can both of these statements be true? Actually, Ecclesiastes is full of these contrasts. In fact, reading Ecclesiastes is a bit like being on a teeter totter. So much futility; be hopeful! Mourn and weep; be joyful! Work hard; rest is important. Consider your options carefully; trust God and take the risk. Seeking knowledge is vanity; get wisdom.

The fact is, though, that the whole of life is like a teeter totter:
"For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:
a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time for love, and a time for hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace." (Eccl. 3:1-8)

Ecclesiastes, with all of its back-and-forth, give-and-take wisdom teaches us that those who want to live wisely will learn what is the proper time and the just way for everything: when to weep and when to sing, when to investigate every angle of a problem and when to take a leap of faith, when to bring on the feasting and when to live as simply as possible.

Casting Widely (Meditations on Ecclesiastes)

"Cast your bread upon the waters,
for you will find it after many days.
Give a portion to seven, or even to eight,
for you know not what disaster may happen on earth.
If the clouds are full of rain,
they empty themselves on the earth,
and if a tree falls to the south or to the north,
in the place where the tree falls, there it will lie.
He who observes the wind will not sow,
and he who regards the clouds will not reap.

As you do not know the way the spirit comes to the bones in the womb of a woman with child, so you do not know the work of God who makes everything. In the morning sow your seed, and at evening withhold not your hand, for you do not know which will prosper, this or that, or whether both alike will be good." (Ecclesiastes 11:1-6)

Are you ever paralyzed by the uncertainties of life? Do you ever wait too long to act because you aren't able to determine an outcome with absolute certainty? Are you afraid to take risks?

If you are the kind of person who has to have all their ducks in a row before they will swim away from shore (I'll be the first to admit to this sort of tendency!), then the author of Ecclesiastes has a message for you (and me): WE DO NOT IN CONTROL THE OUTCOME! Argh... frustrating, I know! But true, nonetheless. All outcomes of all things ever done are ultimately in God's hands, and, as we've already seen, he doesn't generally tell us what is going to happen in advance. Rather, he invites us to trust him, and leave the end up to him. We are to live responsibly, in so far as we CAN see (there are other passages in the book that speak of careful action), but there is a point at which we may fall into the trap Ecclesiastes speaks of here, and spend all our days trying desperately to determine which way the wind is going to blow and whether the clouds are coming, and therefore DOING nothing. And if we sow nothing, there will be nothing to reap. We are called to be a people who live by faith in God's sovereign care, and with such a firm hand holding us up, to accept some amount of risk. After all, we don't know what disaster may occur (under God's full control) that may remove all chances for action.

If we will accept the risk, wisdom has another word for us. Because we are not God and can never know, with 100% certainty, what the end result of any action will be, the wisdom of Ecclesiastes invites us to live life broadly and generously. The wise person will not set all his hopes on one set of actions, hoard all his things in one spot or throw all his energy into making just one disciple. Instead, he will diversify his investments, so to speak. Like the sower in Jesus' parable in Matthew 13, we are called to spread God's word to as many people as possible, because we cannot know who will be hard soil and who will receive it with joy. Like the sower in 2 Corinthians 9, we are called to give generously and freely, though some of our gifts may not prosper, for whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, but whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully. Of course, we are mere humans. We do not have infinite seed for sowing, and there are also investment opportunities that are obviously worthless. But within the boundaries of the fields we have been given, with the wisdom God gives us, we are to sow generously, leaving the outcome to the God who reaps where he does not sow and gathers where he scattered no seed.

The other day we were waiting at a stoplight and a panhandler rolled his wheelchair over to our window. Instantly, we start the debate in our minds, "Does it REALLY help him if we give him some change? What if he uses it to buy alcohol or drugs or other harmful things--we don't want to be enablers. And the 50 cents we have on us could probably be used to better effect if given to a good program..." Well yes, there is wisdom in giving with care. We want our money to be used as well as possible. But on the other hand, Ecclesiastes offers a place for not over-thinking everything. Who am I to judge how some stranger will use the money I give (especially when he appears lucid)? Do I need to have such a mental debate over a quarter cup of coffee's worth of change? What if I just decide to sow a little seed on the edges of my field and let trust God with the outcome? There is a place for deep thought and carefulness. But do we also have a place for broad generosity and swiftness in our actions?

Wisdom trusts God and lives actively. And wisdom trusts God and lives generously. For all us wind-searchers and cloud-watchers, Ecclesiastes invites us to take our trust off of our own control and wisdom and to place it where it ultimately belongs: in God's control and in the wisdom of the Holy Spirit that is available to all who ask for it in faith.

Community Matters (Meditations on Ecclesiastes)

"It is not good for the man to be alone." Right from the beginning of the world, God declares the very not-goodness of a human in isolation. It was not enough for Adam to have animals to care for and land to cultivate. He was created in the image of a God who lives in community in the Trinity; he needed another human being--a helper and companion. And nothing has changed since.

You may think I'm about to talk about marriage, but I'm not--at least not specifically. Though the first human relationship at creation was a married couple, the not-goodness of man being alone does not merely speak to marriage. It speaks to a broader in-born need for community that runs throughout the Bible. And in a book that deals with living life wisely in the midst of toil and trouble, Ecclesiastes does not fail to mention the importance of living in community with others.

"Again, I saw vanity under the sun: one person who has no other, either son or brother, yet there is no end to all his toil, and his eyes are never satisfied with riches, so that he never asks, 'For whom am I toiling and depriving myself of pleasure?' This also is vanity and an unhappy business. 
Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up! Again, if two lie together, they keep warm, but how can one keep warm alone? And though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him--a threefold cord is not easily broken." (Eccl. 4:7-12)

In a world where there is so much futility and evil and death, we gain immeasurable riches by living our lives in community with others. Ecclesiastes gives us 5 things we gain by living in community:

1) Community is a place for service. 'For whom am I toiling and depriving myself of pleasure?' This also is vanity and an unhappy business. If I am merely working toward my own ends, for my own gain, I end up gaining nothing, and my toiling is a very unhappy business. When we live in community with others, we gain ample opportunities to serve, to work for the gain of others, to be last so that others might be first. And this brings joy and happiness to our work. I can enjoy the labour of making bread well enough, but the real joy in that labour comes in seeing others benefit from it as they enjoy the eating. What's more, even when the labour itself is hard and unpleasant, or seems to yield little fruit, there is a blessing in the simple grace of being in it with another, having someone to commiserate, to weep with you in the failure, to laugh with you over the futility.

2) Community is a place for increased fruit. Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. One person working by himself can only do so much. As soon as another person joins him, the amount of work done more than doubles. If you have a group of people working together toward the same end, the potential for fruit grows exponentially. We have seen this here in Liberty Village, and it is true in any community. The Body of Christ is more fruitful when each member is working together with the others toward a common goal for the glory of God.

3) Community is a place for help. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up! When we are all on our own, and we fall into sin or error or difficult circumstances, we have no one to help us up. We need others around us who will pick us up when we fall, who will help carry our burdens and point us to the gospel. And we need to be help for others in their time of need, as well.

4) Community is an place for comfort. Again, if two lie together, they keep warm, but how can one keep warm alone? The picture Ecclesiastes gives us is one of travellers sleeping outside on a cold night--they are warmer when they share body heat than when each sleeps by himself. And it is the same in this cold, dark world. Where life is full of feelings of futility, intense trials and mundane ones, weariness and uncertainty, we desperately need the warmth of community to provide comfort for the weary and hope for the downcast.

5) Community is a place for protection. And though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him--a threefold cord is not easily broken. Life is not like the movies, where one guy routinely beats down 20 attackers in his own strength. Left to ourselves, one attacker can be enough to destroy us. But there is safety in numbers. In a world where wisdom is not always clear, where sin trips us up, where the church gets persecuted and Satan is always on the prowl, we do not do well to try and fight alone. We need the protection of the community, those who will stand with us on the day of battle, and still be standing with us when it is all over.

Are you trying to live your life on your own, serving your own ends, working by yourself, pulling yourself up, seeking comfort through your own means, trying to fight multiple attackers off by yourself? It is not good for a human to be alone! Even where living in community is hard, where it requires confession and forgiveness, when it means we have to give up some of our preferences to serve others, where we can't live on our own timetable, the benefits far outweigh the risks! God has made us for community, so let us be intentional about living in it.

Enjoy the Toil! (Meditations on Ecclesiastes)

Now that we've been in the doldrums of Ecclesiastes for a month, I thought it high time to examine the joy that is to be found in this little book... because it is there! Weaving through the futility, oppression, evil and death of the book, there is a strong thread of rejoicing. Over and over again, and sometimes even after the bleakest of statements, the author of Ecclesiastes commands us to "eat and drink and find enjoyment in [our] toil. This also is from the hand of God, for apart from him who can eat or who can have enjoyment?" "There is nothing better than to be joyful and to do good as long as they live; also that everyone should eat and drink and take pleasure in all his toil--this is God's gift to man."

We live in a world broken by sin, and we feel the weight of it. But at the same time, even in the midst of difficulty and sorrow, we are to find joy in the life we have been given by our good God. Ecclesiastes gives us several reasons to rejoice in this life we have been given:

1) Pleasure and joy are a gift from God. God created this world good, and he lavishes good gifts on us. There are so many things in creation that really have no other function than bringing joy. God didn't have to give us light by way of a sun that creates beauty merely by its rising and setting. He didn't have to create the cocoa bean, or the coffee bean, or grapes that ferment into something pleasing. We could still get along in a world that had no colour, no music, no fleecy-soft inner coat pockets (one I've been enjoying recently). But that is not the world God has given us. He has filled this world with more pleasures than I could list, and he does it so we will rejoice in the goodness of our Creator and give him glory.

2) God's sovereignty gives us freedom to enjoy life. Often I cease to enjoy the good gifts God has given me because I become consumed by stress and anxiety over details of my life that I cannot control. I become a slave to worry. Rather than enjoying the present pleasures, I am wrapped up in thinking about tomorrow, trying to manage the rest of my life in my head. And I defend this with the excuse that if I can figure everything out for the future, then I will really be able to relax and rejoice. But this is a lie. Ecclesiastes reminds us over and over again that this life is not under our control. Our lives, and every detail of them, are firmly in God's hands. This, of course, does not negate any responsibility on our part to be wise and good stewards of what God has given us, but it does mean that we must not spend our time in worry over tomorrow. Tomorrow will take care of itself. If we really believe that our lives are fully in the hand of our very good God (who is so good that he gives us all things richly to enjoy though we do not deserve it), then we gain the great freedom of really enjoying the life we've been given today, even when there are storm clouds on the horizon.

3) Enjoy all the life you have been given because it is short. "Light is sweet, and it is pleasant for the eyes to see the sun. If a person lives many years, let him rejoice in them all; but let him remember that the days of darkness will be many." (Eccl. 11:8) Moses puts it this way in Psalm 90: "The years of our life are seventy, or even by reason of strength eighty; yet their span is but toil and trouble; they are soon gone, and we fly away. So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom. Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days." This is part of why Ecclesiastes regularly reminds us not only to rejoice in "pleasant" things, but also in the work that God has given us to do, despite that fact that so often it really feels like toil, because we recognize that having work to do means we still have the gift of life.

4) Rejoicing keeps us happily occupied. You're familiar with the phrase "time flies when you're having fun." Ecclesiastes says that isn't too far from the truth. Speaking of the man who rejoices in the life God has given him, it says, "For he will not much remember the days of his life because God keeps him occupied with joy in his heart." (Eccl. 5:20) Are you in the midst of difficulty and toil, wondering when it will ever end? Pay attention to all the things you've been given to enjoy, not least of which is the offer of salvation from sin, futility and death through Jesus' death on the cross in your place, and thank God for them. For while a heart of thankfulness does not remove the ache of living in a world stained by sin, it directs our attention off of the hardship we are facing, and toward the good God who has our whole life and all its details in His generous hands, and who graciously gives us so many things to enjoy, though we deserve none of them! And you may well find that the difficulty and toil passes far more quickly than when you focus only on the things you need deliverance from.

Yes, we must be careful not to find our ultimate joy in earthly things that can be taken away at any given time (Eccl. 11:8). Yes, we enjoy life only within the boundaries that God has set for us, recognizing that the day will come when we will have to answer to a Holy God for all we have done (Eccl. 11:9). But we ARE to enjoy what God has given, and thank Him for it.

We are sinners deserving of death, and yet we have been offered life and everything good through Jesus' death on the cross in our place! So we cannot merely be a people who ask hard questions and grieve oppression and futility. Yes, there are times to weep and mourn. But even in the midst of our mourning, may we be a grateful people. May there be a strong thread of rejoicing even in the middle of our pain and grief. May we not forget that God blesses us daily with many good things to enjoy, and that even in the worst circumstances, we have life, and salvation in Jesus. "He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?" (Romans 8:32)

Tears of the Oppressed (Meditations on Ecclesiastes)

"Again I saw all the oppressions that are done under the sun. And behold, the tears of the oppressed, and they had no one to comfort them! On the side of their oppressors there was power, and there was no one to comfort them. And I thought the dead who are already dead more fortunate than the living who are still alive. But better than both is he who has not yet been and has not seen the evil deeds that are done under the sun." (Ecclesiastes 4: 1-3)

Really? Is anyone allowed to say such a thing?! No wonder some of us feel uncomfortable with Ecclesiastes! Here is a book, inspired by God, that appears to claim it better to be dead, and indeed, to never have even been alive, than to have seen and experienced the evil that goes on under the sun. Where is the hope here?

In fact, the author of Ecclesiastes doesn't really offer any right now. There is terrible oppression done on this earth, injustices that in this life go continually unpunished (Eccl. 3:16-17). But we want to find the hope NOW. As Christians, we want Ecclesiastes to jump to the gospel, to hold up the coming judgement and offer salvation. Better off dead? Seriously?

In thinking through this troubling passage, I was really struck by Derek Kidner's question in his commentary:

If [the author]'s gloom strikes us as excessive at this point, we may need to ask whether our more cheerful outlook springs from hope and not complacency. While we, as Christians, see further ahead than he allowed himself to look, it is no reason to spare ourselves the realities of the present.

Are we shocked by the darkness of Ecclesiastes because we truly understand the hope of resurrection and future justice offered in the gospel, or, if we are honest, is it because we are not willing to go to the dark places in this world? Is it because we aren't ready to really look at the evils and oppressions that go on under the sun, and really care, really mourn, really weep with those who weep. To my shame, I have to admit that far too often, my lack of groaning is not because I'm so full of hope, but because I'm too lazy or comfortable to care. I'm apathetic. I don't look at the sufferings in this world with the grief of the God who created a beautiful world that was "very good" and then, in looking at the wickedness of man, "was sorry that he had made man on the earth, and it grieved him to his heart" (Genesis 6:6).

Do we care about the unspeakable horrors going on at this very moment around the world? Do we care that young girls are forced into prostitution at any age, let alone at ages when our own daughters are still playing with dolls? Does it grieve us that infants the world over are slaughtered just because their parents and or their governments don't want to deal with them? Does it matter to us that children are conscripted into violent armies, that slumlords, orphanage owners and relief workers grab for themselves many of the donations given for the poorest of the poor under their "care"? And what about our own Christian brothers and sisters in other nations who are tortured, enslaved, imprisoned and killed because their persecutors hate what they believe? What about the spiritual oppression and darkness in our own comfortable land?

"But what can I do?" we often ask. Ecclesiastes itself acknowledges that oppression and evil are out of our control. We can deal with it in one form, in one place, at one time, and it's just starting somewhere else. Until the day that Jesus returns, there will always be poor, oppressed people in this sinful world. But I may not use this as an excuse to cease caring, to ignore. There ARE practical things that can be done for some of these issues. And even if there really is no practical way that I can help, there is ALWAYS one practical way that I can help. I can PRAY. I can join with Ecclesiastes and with the psalmist and with the martyred saints before the throne of God and groan on behalf of the oppressed. I can weep and mourn and plead on their behalf before the throne of the only One who has the power to end the pain, to comfort the victims, and to judge their oppressors.

Yes, ultimately we do not mourn as those who have no hope. In the end, God will bring every deed into judgement, with every secret thing, whether good or evil (Eccl. 12:14). We do know that there is a Jesus who sets the captives free. But we may not use this hope as an excuse to ignore the darkness of this present age. If we want to follow the whole counsel of God, as revealed in the entirety of the Bible, we must also have a place for deep grief over the ravages of sin, over the terrible evils that plague masses of people made in the image of God. We must be willing to go with Solomon to the depths of human suffering and mourn it. We have a God who didn't just sit back, looking from a distance at our misery, saying, "Don't want to go there." We have a God who entered right in to a world burdened by sin and oppression, lived in the midst of it, wept under the weight of it, and then died a horrible death to deal with it once and for all.

We must not merely be a people of hope, but also a hopeful people who care, who act, who pray to the God of all mercy and comfort on behalf of those who have no earthly hope. May we be a people who weep with the tears of the oppressed.

Achieving Eternity (Meditations on Ecclesiastes)

Do you want to live forever? Regardless of whether you believe it is possible or not, most of us live our lives in pursuit of this goal. We do our best at our work, we strive to realize our dreams, we do great things, we try to make the world a better place, we want to be good friends or good parents... And while we do these things in part because it makes us happy, most of us would have to honestly say that we also do them because we want our achievements, our memory, our good works, our descendants to live on after us. We seek eternity by means of works that will last long after we are gone. We may be dead and in the ground, but our memory will live on in the hearts of those that knew us or benefit from the things we accomplished.

Ecclesiastes is a book about seeking eternity. Though it only mentions the word once, the idea is present in virtually every chapter of the book. Its characters, including its author, are people who seek wisdom and knowledge, or who build great architectural edifices, or who attain high political offices, or who are very religious and want to do great things for God. Some of them are incredibly innovative. Others have large families given to them to care for. There are men and women, kings and lay people, young people and old people, wise people and foolish people, wealthy nobility and the humble poor. And the vast majority of them are seeking eternity by means of a life well-lived, whatever that may mean to each of them. Sound like any world you know?

Of course, this is also no surprise, because Ecclesiastes tells us that God "has put eternity into man's heart". We are created with a desire for immortality imprinted on our very being. Elsewhere in the Bible, we are told that man was made to live forever. But he has been thwarted by sin and is now universally condemned to death. We who are made with eternity in our hearts now have a 100% chance of dying. But this death sentence does not stop us from seeking the immortality we should have had. You will rarely meet a person who could care less about how they will be remembered. Even those who do great evil are often seeking a name for themselves. Better to be infamous for the rest of human history for some terrible deed than to lie forgotten in an unmarked grave with the vast majority of the human race.

The problem with achieving eternity via long-standing accomplishments (however noble) or via a good name is that we have no guarantee that anything we do in this life will outlive us. You can spend your days toiling to build up your business and have no guarantee that the person who takes over after you won't run it into the ground. You can be a mother who pours her life into her children, giving them every chance at success, teaching them with all wisdom and insight to live a life of godliness and you have no guarantee that they will live on after you as godly, successful people. You can't even guarantee that they will outlive you! And even if we could guarantee good results, "there is no remembrance of former things, nor will there be any remembrance of later things yet to be among those who come after." So, "what does man gain by all the toil at which he toils under the sun?" (Eccl. 1:2, 11). Death comes for us all (another prominent theme in Ecclesiastes), and regardless of what we have done or how often our name is mentioned 500 years from now, we will be forgotten. Think about the handful of names you know from history (out of the billions who have ever lived), and then think about how much deconstruction, reconstruction, reanalysis and "new discoveries!" are part of our knowledge about history. We don't even know those people for who they really, really were.

No, we have no hope of achieving immortality for ourselves, no matter how hard we try. We who are made with eternity in our hearts are doomed to be lost and forgotten to the running sands of time. BUT, "whatever God does endures forever; nothing can be added to it, nor anything taken from it" (Eccl. 3:14). God who put eternity in our hearts also only does that which lasts forever. This means that the only way we will ever live on forever is through participating in God's enduring work. And he invites us into it! In fact, he offers us an exchange: he will take our broken, half-hearted, mediocre, forgettable work, as well as the best, most pleasing achievements we have to offer (which are still just as perishable as we are); and in its place, he will give us the perfect, everlasting, finished work of his son, Jesus. When we admit that we cannot make eternity for ourselves, and instead put all our trust and hope in God's finished and enduring work at the cross of Jesus, then, and only then, do we gain unending life. "And this is eternal life, that they may know you the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent." (John 17:3)

This may mean that we live a life that will be forgotten by mankind. It may mean living in a way that doesn't seem very successful to others, and even at many times to ourselves. But it is our only sure hope for eternity, and that makes it a life worth living.

Hard Answers (Meditations on Ecclesiastes)

And the pain falls like a curtain

On the things I once called certain

And I have to say the words I fear the most

I just don't know

And the questions without answers

Come and paralyze the dancer

So I stand here on the stage afraid to move

Afraid to fall, oh, but fall I must

On the truth that my life has been formed from the dust

God is God and I am not

I can only see a part of the picture He's painting

God is God and I am man

So I'll never understand it all

For only God is God.

-Steven Curtis Chapman

These words just about sum up one of the major themes of Ecclesiastes.

"God has put eternity into man's heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end... Then I saw all the work of God, that man cannot find out the work that is done under the sun. However much man may toil in seeking, he will not find it out. Even though a wise man claims to know, he cannot find it out... As you do not know the way the spirit comes to the bones in the womb of a woman with child, so you do not know the work of God who makes everything." (Eccl. 3:11, 8:17, 11:5)

The Bible allows us to ask our hard questions, but it does not promise easy answers, at least not in this life under the sun. In fact there are many times that all it leaves us with is "God knows." Ecclesiastes is a book that asks lots of difficult questions and has very little in the way of succinct, satisfying answers. At first, this seems enormously frustrating. How can God leave us hanging like that?

By way of answering that question, the author of Ecclesiastes reminds us, first, that we are mere creatures, formed from the dust and destined to return to it. We are a finite people who exist in time and space, with a limited capacity for knowledge. We are not God, and don't have the ability to comprehend all that God has planned, even if he were to explain it to us. And God has made things that way, at least in part, so we would know our place as creatures and not seek to elevate ourselves to the level of gods.

But this truth of our "earthiness" does not leave us floating around in a universe with no gravity and nothing to cling to. The Preacher also answers that all things are firmly in God's hands and he will do exactly as he pleases, at exactly the right time. We need not fear what he does not yet answer; we need only trust the One who will put all things right in the end: Though a sinner does evil a hundred times and prolongs his life, yet I know that it will be well with those who fear God, because they fear before him. But it will not be well with the wicked, neither will he prolong his days like a shadow, because he does not fear before God. (8:12,13)

There are glimmers of hope in Ecclesiastes (not lying--they're there!), but as in much of the Old Testament, the author offers only a misty portrait of the hope to come. Life after death is assured, but in a shadowy form with little detail. And here is where the faint traces of future hope need the rest of biblical revelation to be fleshed out. While many of our specific questions still go unanswered in the New Testament, the most important answer we could ever need has been given once and for all at the cross and empty tomb of Jesus. It is at the cross that God declares for all time that whatever trials you may meet with in this life, you need not face eternal punishment in the next if you are trusting in Jesus' death on your behalf. It is at the empty tomb that the hope of our own future resurrection is sealed. Romans 8 puts meat on the bones of Ecclesiastes: "For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us... And not only the creation, but we ourselves who have the firstfruits of the Spirit groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope, we were saved." (Romans 8:18-25)

But in the meantime, we wait, and find that many of the questions we ask about the seeming futility of our work, the pain in our own lives and the injustice and oppression that abound in the world--those questions go unanswered for now.

Ecclesiastes reminds us that we make a serious mistake if we call hurting people to Jesus with the promise that he will fix everything: that he will make their marriage better, make their kids behave, help them find satisfaction in their work, keep them from tragedy, and answer every question they could ever ask. We make a serious mistake if we expect Jesus to do the same for us. Jesus doesn't PROMISE those things. He doesn't promise easy answers. But he DOES promise to be with you in the hard times of your marriage, to be with you when your kids don't listen, to be with you when you'd rather be anywhere but where you are right now, to be with you when the bottom drops out and you're in a free fall. He promises that even when we don't understand, don't have the answers, and everything we do seems futile, there is nothing in all creation that can separate us from God's love if we are clinging to him. He promises that HE knows the answers, and he IS working all things for our good and his glory, even when we can't see it. He promises that one day we will see him face to face, and God will wipe every weary tear from our eyes. And while these may not be the easy answers we're looking for, they are the only answers that can carry us through both the happy and the sad times, through the easy questions and the hard ones.

"Oh, the depths of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgements and how inscrutable his ways! 'For who has known the mind of the Lord, and who has been his counselor? Who has given a gift to him that he might be repaid?' For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen." (Romans 11:33-36)

Hard Questions (Meditations on Ecclesiastes)

"I'm not a perfect parent, but I've worked hard to faithfully love my kids and teach them God's truth. So why, oh why, are they in the trouble they're in right now?" "Years of labour to build up this business, and it's all wiped out in a sudden market crash! Lord, why? Was all my toil for nothing?" "All day long on the news, all I see is people around the world being oppressed, and their oppressors are laughing all the way to the bank! Where is justice?" "Christians around the world are being slaughtered for their faith, and the West is silent. How long, O Lord, how long?" Or maybe it's as mundane as, "I'm not even done with the laundry for 2 seconds and someone falls face first into the mud. Will the cycle never end?!"

Futility. It's all around us. And if we're really honest, these are the kinds of cries that plague us, even if we really believe that God is good, and in control, and trustworthy. But if we're also really honest, many of us feel some level of guilt about asking such questions. I mean, if I was a good Christian, I wouldn't ask those kinds of questions--I would just trust God and rejoice always, right? I saw an interview once with a well-known Christian who had just suffered terribly tragic circumstances, but who was testifying that he was given such faith that the question "Why?" never even crossed his mind. And I felt guilty because I've never faced anything like he had, and yet I've asked hard questions about the pain in this world.

But Ecclesiastes is a book that calls us to question our doubts about our questions, because it is a book FULL of hard questions, of groaning under the seeming futility of life, of weariness in the face of life's difficulties. Right from the get-go, we are faced with the outburst, "Vanity of vanities, says the Preacher, vanity of vanities! All is vanity. What does a man gain by all the toil at which he toils under the sun?" Not very comforting, eh?

We like the book of Proverbs because it seems to present a neatly ordered, logical universe where the hard-working prosper, the wise stay out of trouble, and the godly man enjoys a good life. We struggle with Ecclesiastes because it takes us to a world where children are trained up in the way they should go, and lo and behold, they depart from it! It is a world where the hard-working may lose everything in a single sweep of God's hand, where the wise live in wisdom and still die like the rest of mankind, where our toil is futile and we cry out with the Psalmist, "Why do the wicked proper? How long, O LORD?" This is a world where even the people of God come up against seeming absurdity, futility, vanity.

Like Job and the Psalms, Ecclesiastes shows us that God is not afraid of our hard questions and our groaning. In fact, he is so interested in our hard questions that he's written them up in his book. If we were afraid to ask, it's right there on the page, begging for answers.

Here's the thing: The Bible never calls us to be stoics, leaving all those earthly, human emotions stuffed in the back of the closet (with the awkward cousin, no doubt), while we piously repeat our mantra, "All things work together for good... all things work together for good..." and pull ourselves forward to a better day. It also never calls us to the happy-happy-joy-joy kind of "faith" that always responds immediately to job loss, illness, war, oppression or death with a "Hallelujah! Life is great!"

We are called to praise God in all circumstances, yes. Job DID fall down and worship even when his property and family were wiped out (Job 1:20-22). And all things DO work together for good for those who love God and are called according to his purpose (Romans 8:28). But we live in a once-perfect world horribly distorted by sin, terribly twisted by futility. And we FEEL it. So often, we spout Romans 8:28 at ourselves and others in pain without the context. We skip the part Paul didn't--a creation full of suffering that groans, that feels futile, that longs. And we also groan inwardly as we wait for creation to be made new. We hope, yes, but often it is a groaning hope.

Paul himself was given a thorn, and while he says he is content with it, that did not come until he had PLEADED with the Lord 3 times to remove it (2 Cor. 12:7-10). Jesus himself, very God of very God, as he was in agony on the cross, cried out and groaned under the weight of his suffering. He wasn't just making a neat theological point about the end of Psalm 22 when he screamed out, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" (Mark 15:34) Even our martyred brothers and sisters who stand before the very throne of God in heaven are crying out, "How long before you will judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell on the earth?" (Rev. 6:10)

Yes, there's a way to ask hard questions with a bitter and angry spirit that challenges the goodness and wisdom of God, that thinks it knows better. And yes, we must avoid that. But there is a questioning and a weeping that is very much a part of biblical Christianity. It is a groaning that presses on in faith even when the answers aren't quick in coming. It is a mourning that sits and weeps with those who weep, rather than offering platitudes, or demanding that they just trust God and get over it. It is a faith that leaves room for people to ask hard questions about the meaning of life and the absurdities of suffering without panicking that God can't handle the heat.

Is there room in your Bible for hard questions?

Dealing With the Awkward Cousin (Meditations on Ecclesiastes)

Solomon must have been an interesting guy. Of the 3 Old Testament books attributed to him, there's exactly 1 we're all pretty comfortable with... Proverbs, brilliant book of timeless wisdom and insight into human life and nature. But then there are those other two, the ones about which we may be tempted to wonder how they ever made it into the Bible. We've got Song of Solomon on the one hand, a very personal poem about love, sex and physical beauty. And then on the other hand, there's Ecclesiastes, a book about the apparent meaninglessness of life. At face value, it's an pretty pessimistic look at reality, and one that for most of my life, I have to admit, I've always been a little puzzled by. In fact, while it's certainly not universal (my husband and brother-in-law both count Ecclesiastes as very instrumental in their coming to follow Jesus), my guess is that many of us struggle with the existence of this little book. Maybe it's because there are parts of it that seem to contradict other parts of the Bible. Maybe it's because of the continual refrain that everything under the sun is futile, which seems just a little negative for a book inspired by God. For me, I think the most troubling thing about the thoughts in Ecclesiastes is that there are so many questions in it that really resonate with me when life is difficult, and this makes me exceedingly uncomfortable because these are very questions I feel guilty about asking, the ones I would never dare to approach God with.

But whatever I may feel about it, Ecclesiastes IS part of God's holy word, so I can't just ignore it. If this book belongs to God's revelation of himself to us, than I cannot just shut it up in the closet, like that awkward cousin at the family reunion that everyone just pretends doesn't exist. If it is God's word to me, than it has important things to say, and I shut my ears at my own peril.

So, all that being said, I recently decided it was time to really dig into this book, even if it makes me squirm. And what I'm finding as I read and study it is that, just as in all Scripture, there is much wealth to be mined here, things I wish I had had a better grasp of long before now. So over the next few weeks, I plan to post a few meditations on this troubling, puzzling, abundantly rich Old Testament book. If you want to study further, there are some good commentaries out there. The main ones I'm using are both accessible to lay people:

The Message of Ecclesiastes by Derek Kidner (not technical at all)
Proverbs, Ecclesiastes and Song of Solomon by Duane A. Garrett (more detailed, technicalities mostly limited to footnotes)

These commentaries come to the book from slightly different points of view, so they are helpful together.

Stay tuned to help me deal with that awkward cousin!

Mysterious Ways

"And the Lord went before them by day in a pillar of cloud to lead them along the way, and by night in a pillar of fire to give them light, that they might travel by day and by night. The pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night did not depart from before the people. Then the Lord said to Moses, 'Tell the people of Israel to turn back and encamp in front of Pi-hahiroth, between Migdol and the sea, in front of Baal-zephon; you shall encamp facing it, by the sea. For Pharaoh will say of the people of Israel, "They are wandering in the land; the wilderness has shut them in." And I will harden Pharaoh's heart, and he will pursue them, and I will get glory over Pharaoh and all his host, and the Egyptians shall know that I am the Lord.' And they did so." (Exodus 13:21-14:4)

God moves in a mysterious way,
his wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea
and rides upon the storm...

Have you ever felt like you were on a circuitous path in life? Maybe you've given up much to move somewhere you were convinced God led you to go, and yet after some time earnestly seeking to follow God there, you ended up having to go right back to the place from which you came, or somewhere else you never dreamed or wanted to be, feeling like you had little or nothing to show for your sacrifice and upheaval? Or maybe you've taken the right job, followed the Lord's leading into the right ministry, gotten into the right relationship, or pursued that neighbour with the gospel as you believed the Holy Spirit was clearly pushing you to do, only to have no success, to see doors closed, to feel like a failure? We are often so quick, in these circumstances, to wonder when we misunderstood God's leading, where we fell into sin that we're being disciplined for, or if God really cares for us at all.

Israel understood this. I've always thought of their journey out of Egypt toward the Promised Land as a long, but continuous, path which only ended up as 40 years of wandering because of their sin of unbelief. But in reading Exodus 13-17 this time around, I was struck by those words in Ex. 14:2 where the LORD tells the people to TURN BACK. They were headed out of Egypt in victory as the LORD had commanded, and yet they suddenly find themselves going backwards in the direction of Egypt again, where God places them squarely between the Egyptians and an uncrossable sea. Under such circumstances, it really is not surprising that the Israelites respond by complaining to God that he had only rescued them from Egypt in order to kill them (14:10-12). It may not be the godly, faith-filled response of Moses (14:13-14), but it is often our natural human response. There have been times in our life when everything appears to be going "according to plan" ("whose plan?" is an entirely different question!), but there have been other times when we think God is clearly leading us in one direction, and yet it ends in apparent failure, or in years of wandering in the wilderness (see Ex. 16, 17) when we begin to wonder if we somehow fell off God's track. And it is easy in those times to question God, to question his faithfulness, to question his sovereignty, to question his goodness.

As Alec Motyerpoints out, Christians can often simplistically attribute times of failure and suffering either to direct attacks of Satan, as if he's somehow bypassed God, or to our failing to follow God's will for our lives, living outside his purposes. But while Satan does attack (just as Pharaoh was on the attack), and believers do sin (the 40 years in the wilderness was discipline), it is clear here that Israel was led by the clear will of the LORD into wandering, hunger, thirst and battle. They didn't just come to the Red Sea and find Pharaoh behind them because they hadn't moved fast enough, or because Pharaoh overcame God's plan. They didn't head into the wilderness to encounter deadly hunger and thirst because they failed to praise God (see the song of Ex. 15 which is immediately followed by the desert trips in Ex. 16 and 17 where they almost die of thirst). They were led there by the pillar and the cloud--easy to miss because of chapter divisions--and the clear commands of God. And it is God who hardens Pharaoh's heart. The Israelites ended up by the Red Sea and in the wildernesses of Shur and Sin BECAUSE they were right in the centre of God's will and guidance.

Can we explain God's ways with Israel? Not much more than we can explain the mysteries of God's ways with us, which are sometimes deeply perplexing. The text of Exodus tells us that this was part of God's pre-ordained journey to the Promised Land and that his purpose involved the defeat of Pharaoh and the ability of the Egyptians (14:4) and the Israelites (14:30,31) to know that he is the LORD. But why he did it this way, we won't fully comprehend in this life. How much less then can we understand many of the directions our pilgimage to the Promised Land takes us, when we do not have the benefit of hindsight. One day we will see the bodies of our enemies on the shore (14:30), but when we are sitting between the rock and the hard place, the enemy in full pursuit, God's ways seem confusing and shrouded in darkness. When we are in the midst of the wilderness that seems to be way off the route to the land of milk and honey, we are often more aware of our thirst than of the fact that it is the LORD who led us there. At the same time as we decry the "prosperity gospel", far too often we live as if following God will bring us success and ease, and are confused when the path is hard and makes no sense to us. Will we respond like Israel, crying out in confusion, grumbling and anger, and ultimately trying to get to the Promised Land by our own devices? Or will we step forward (or backward!) in faith that the God who guided Israel through much wandering to the land of glory by the pillar and the cloud is the same God who promises both great hardship in this life and also that he will never leave or forsake his people in their circuitous journey toward heaven, where our real citizenship is.

We must remember that Jesus knew this life in the wilderness, too. God's will for him involved not grasping the equality with God that was clearly and rightfully his, leaving the comforts of heaven to live out a human existence with all its trials and tears on earth. The Spirit threw him into the wilderness (Matt. 4) just as he did Israel, and as he often does us. God had a specifically appointed time for a violent and gruesome death for crimes Jesus didn't commit, and it made absolutely no sense to the disciples around him--he was supposed to be the victorious Messiah and yet he was headed toward the cross, something so anguishing that even Jesus prayed that the cup be removed. And yet in all of this, he perfectly submitted himself to the perfect and mysterious will of the Father, that he might take the penalty for all our distrust and angry questions, that he might grant to us a record of perfect submission, that his (and our) ultimate enemy might be defeated and that he might be the firstborn among many brothers and sisters to inherit the Promised Land and the glory of God.

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take; the clouds ye so much dread are big with mercy and shall break with blessings on your head... Blind unbelief is sure to err, and scan his work in vain. God is his own interpreter and he will make it plain.

-William Cowper*

*And just in case you think these words were penned by some old guy oblivious to the anguish of living in the hard, mysterious path of Almighty God, read up on Cowper. That's a perplexing life!

The God Who is Adequate

"But Moses said to God, 'Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the children of Israel out of Egypt?' He said, 'But I will be with you, and this shall be the sign for you, that I have sent you: when you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall serve God on this mountain.'" (Exodus 3:11-12)

Alec Motyer, in The Message Of Exodus, comments on this passage:

Moses' first problem was his sense of personal inadequacy, the 'What? Me?' syndrome. Moses said, 'Who am I?' and the Lord replied, 'But I...'. Notice the Lord's graciousness here in not trying to deny Moses' inadequacy. How differently we react to each other. Somebody comes to us and says, 'I'm not really up to it,' and we immediately and thoughtlessly reply, 'Of course you are!' That is not the way the Lord dealt with Moses--or the way he deals with us. He does not sweep the difficulties we feel aside. Moses said, 'Lord, I'm not adequate', and the Lord said, 'No, but I am!' He accepted Moses' self-estimate and graciously promised his presence as adequate for the inadequate man. He neither said to him, 'Of course you're adequate,' denying Moses' feelings, or did he say to him, 'It doesn't matter.' He accepted Moses' sense of inadequacy as one of the facts of the situation, but then countered it by the adequacy of his own presence...
Furthermore, the Lord's reaction was not to promise to make Moses adequate, somehow to transform him into someone who was up to the task. (Although this is what he did as time went on.) What he did promise was the sufficiency of his own presence. In other words, he called Moses to a position of faith--to go into this work not expecting to be a different man but expecting a sufficient God. He met Moses' inadequacy with the pledge of his own sufficiency, and called Moses to believe the promises and to demonstrate the obedience of faith.

Are you up to the task today? Are you adequate? I'm not! But the God who has called us to today's work IS adequate, and will be sufficient for us as we carry out that work in the obedience of faith--be it mothering our children, loving that unlovable neighbour or sharing the gospel with a friend or family member over Thanksgiving dinner.

A Lot of Mercy

I'm making my way through the book of Genesis right now. I think it's been a few years since the last time I read it, and it's amazing to me (though it shouldn't be!) how many things I've missed in past readings. On this particular journey through Genesis, the thing that is standing out to me the most is the incredible mercy of God. I know a lot of people think of the God of the Old Testament as being this angry, vengeful guy, and then along comes the God of the New Testament and he's all love and mercy. But I don't think they've read the Old Testament very carefully (or the New, for that matter--think Ananias and Sapphira). I'm only 22 chapters in, and I've already seen God show mercy to people in the covenant line (Adam, Noah, Abraham, Sarah, Isaac), people out of the covenant line who beg for mercy (Hagar, Abimelech), and people out of the covenant line who completely disregard the mercy they're shown (Cain, Ham). But at this point, the story that has most made me praise God for His amazing mercies is the story of Lot in Genesis 19.

Lot was a righteous man, according to 2 Peter 2:7, daily tormenting his righteous soul over the lawless deeds of Sodom and Gomorrah. But if you read Genesis 19 in isolation, he doesn't come off as particularly "righteous". Yes, he invites angelic strangers into his home and shows them generous hospitality. Yes, he protects them from the men of the city who want to abuse them. But then it quickly goes downhill. Lot offers his own daughters as substitute victims. Then, even though he's seen the power of the angels when they blind the evil men and save him, he hesitates to obey their urging to leave the city. And yet, the LORD being merciful to him (vs. 16), the angels seize him and his family and drag them out of Sodom. He was warned; he was given a chance to obey on his own; he didn't listen. And yet, in mercy, God intervened!

And that's not the end of the story. As soon as Lot has been rescued out of Sodom--immediately after having been shown mercy--the angels tell him to escape to the hills so that he won't be swept away with the cities of the valley. And he says, "I'll go as fast as I can! Thank you so much for saving me!" and runs toward the hills with his family. Oh... no... that's not right. Actually, he says, "Oh, no, my lords. Behold, your servant has found favour in your sight, and you have shown me great kindness in saving my life," (recognizing mercy shown to him). "BUT I CANNOT escape to the hills, lest the disaster overtake me and I die. Behold, this city is near enough to flee to, and it is a little one. Let me escape there--is it not a little one?--and my life will be saved!" (vs. 18-20). Hello? He's just been rescued--shown marvelous mercy!--and now he's making excuses for why he can't obey and please *whine, whine, whine*, couldn't you just spare this teensy, weensy (evil) city and make my life a little easier?! I think I'd have blasted him on the spot!

But God, being rich in mercy and remembering Abraham's pleas on Lot's behalf (vs. 29; cf. Genesis 18:22-33), turns to this whining, reluctant man and says, "Behold, I grant you this favour also, that I will not overthrow the city of which you have spoken. Escape there quickly, for I can do nothing till you arrive there" (vs. 21, 22). And then He waits until Lot arrives safely in that city before He sends the fire on Sodom and Gomorrah.

Mercy. Pure, rich, compassionate, undeserved, amazing mercy!

The story goes on to tell us tales of unbelief on the part of Lot's wife (yes, she received judgement), fear on the part of Lot (You remember that little city that he wanted so badly to live in? He later runs away from it to... you guessed it--the hills!), drunkenness and incest. God knew all that was coming. And yet? Mercy!

So other than just thinking "Wow! God was merciful!", how does this story apply to my life right now, in my home in the midst of my everyday life with my husband and my kids and my neighbours and the grocery store clerk?

Have you ever had a day when you felt like you were getting it all wrong, not carrying out your God-given responsibilities, disbelieving God's word, whining and complaining and making excuses, maybe even sinning in some "big" way? You may be "righteous" in God's sight, but you really blew it this time. You're having a hard time believing God could forgive you. Think of Lot--there's still mercy to be had! In fact, mercy by very definition is for those who don't deserve it. (Otherwise, it's wages.) God has been merciful to snatch us out of the fiery destruction of hell through the death of His own perfect Son on our behalf, even though we didn't want to give up our life in Sodom. And if His mercy runs that deep, how much more will He show daily mercies to those whom He has now made His own children! "Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need" (Hebrews 4:14-16).

Or what if it's your kids who have spent the day demolishing the house, telling you they know better than you, arguing and demanding and generally driving you batty since the moment they woke up? Do you have mercy for them? Is there mercy for the husband who's home from work late again, or who left his socks on the floor again, or who forgot your anniversary again? Is there mercy for the fellow church member who forgot she'd switched nursery duty with you and left you in the lurch? Is there mercy for the lady in front of you in the check-out who is holding everybody up by haggling over the price on 15 different items? If we've been shown such marvelous mercy by God, how can we withhold it from others? "And we urge you, brothers, admonish the idle, encourage the fainthearted, help the weak, be patient with them all. See that no one repays anyone evil for evil, but always seek to do good to one another and to everyone." (1 Thess. 5:14,15) "But you, beloved, building yourselves up in your most holy faith and praying in the Holy Spirit, keep yourselves in the love of God, waiting for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ that leads to eternal life. And have mercy on those who doubt; save others by snatching them out of the fire; to others show mercy with fear, hating even the garment stained by the flesh." (Jude 20-23)

How has God shown you mercy today? And how can you show mercy to others?