Out of Silence…The Word

“May our God come and not keep silence; fire devours before Him, and it is very tempestuous around Him.”
(Psalm 50:3)

 

In restless dreams I walked alone
Narrow streets of cobblestone,
‘Neath the halo of a street lamp,
I turned my collar to the cold and damp
When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of
A neon light
That split the night
And touched the sound of silence.
–“Sound of Silence”
by Simon and Garfunkel

 

In 1970, Michael Viner, a wide-eyed thirty year old entrepreneur, was desperate to make his splash in the music recording industry. He had no backing, no contracts or agent, so he spent his life savings to press several thousand copies of an album he titled, “The Best of Marcel Marceau.”

(some of you caught that)

It was a 35-minute recording of absolute silence interrupted by occasional applause. Newsweek and Billboard magazines picked up the bizarre story and soon mail orders poured in. In the end, Viner’s new-found capital allowed him to seriously pursue the music career he so desired.

In a Baby’s cry, two thousand years earlier, the Word spoke out of silence and the angels applauded. The world in all its silent stillness lay on that very Silent Night, Holy Night as a baby’s coos, giggles and cries hungjesus9.jpg on the the frosty night air on the outskirts of Jerusalem.

It didn’t just happen; it was planned. Right down to the very town and time as well as the players involved, including a very shy and innocent virgin. Intricate details, like where this Child would grow up, even where and how He would die. What’s more, it had been planned and scripted for hundreds, yea thousands of years! 332 clues and prophecies to all of these and more are found perfectly preserved in the living pages of the Old Testament.

The gospeler Matthew tells us about His Life through the formulaic saying, “That it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the prophet saying…” He used this phrase twelve times in his gospel (1:22; 2:15,17,23; 4:14; 8:17; 12:17; 13:35; 21:4; 26:56 and 27:9 and 35). Twelve. The number of government.

“And the government will rest upon His His shoulders…”
(Isaiah 9:6)

There was more build-up, more family planning to this Baby, the Child Jesus, than any other human that has ever lived. Not for Muhammed. Nor can it be said of Zoroaster or Guatama Buddha. The Savior’s prenatal wasn’t nine months. It was thousands of years! The baby announcements were sent out as far back as in the Garden, when God walked the earth among Adam and Eve.

“He will crush your head and you will strike His heel.”
(Genesis 3:15)

The Lord spoke these words to Lucifer, the one-time cherub, whose name meant ‘star of the morning’. While he served as the guardian of the Throne of God, he was a walking kaleidoscope of color, a prism of light reflecting off the One whom he served. After his fall, however, his name meant far less the light of morning as it did the darkness that surrounds the morning star, reflecting his transformed nature and character. This curse was to assure the anti-God that he may have led Adam and all humanity into sin but he had sealed his own doom as the enemy of God and would incur His wrath forever.

You recall that Jesus was also called the Morning Star but the name given Him speaks of dawn, resurrection and life. Lucifer, the ruler of darkness, faded when the Son rose to greet the new Day!

The Genesis prophecy led a string of over 60 major prophecies with regard to the First Advent of Christ along with those aforementioned 332 minor prophecies that gave details of His life and death. Little details like His vocation. His style of teaching. That gifts would be brought to Him. His hometown. His rejection immediately after he rides into the City on a donkey, welcomed as a Messiah. That He would be betrayed and sold for thirty pieces of silver. Pierced. Crucified. Buried in a rich man’s sarcophagus.

And then, nothing. Silence. It’s like He was the featured front-page article, the headliner, the lead story, then the story gets buried. For 400 years! All was silent. When the Old Testament record closes, nothing more is heard by way of revelation or prophetic voice for four centuries. Heaven’s print shop and messengering service had shut down.

But…

…The Father was waiting. The Son waited. The Holy Spirit waited. All Heaven held its collective breath, knowing the story was not finished. Anticipating. Tuning their harps and lyres. Angelic choirs getting their pipes ready to break forth in beauteous song!

And then…

…A Baby wails and the Word, voluntarily held back, announces He is here and He is the ‘logos’ in FULL VOICE! All the prophecies and all those announcements by the Angel Gabriel to Mary, to Joseph, to the shepherds—these were like the sounds of one clearing one’s throat to get the earth’s attention, to demand that we listen up.

I love the narrative in John 9 which takes place sometime between the Feast of Tabernacles and the Festival of Lights (Hannukah), our Christmastime. The main character is a young fellow born blind but he also suffers from deafness. Oh, I know you won’t find that in the text because it wasn’t physical deafness. His was spiritual. After Jesus restores his sight, the young man is found in the Temple where Jesus again encounters him. With eyes healed, the Son of God now wants to focus on the boy’s heart—by way of his ears.

“Do you believe in the Son of Man?” Jesus asks him.

“Who is He, Lord, that I may believe in (Greek eis, meaning ‘into’) Him?”

Now notice our Lord’s wonderful, glorious response:

“You have both seen Him, and He is the One talking to you!”

I love that! The Word made flesh was communicating to a single person in a moment when the boy would be hearing Him. Why do I believe that if I were the only lost person on earth that needed saving, that Jesus would STILL have come for me? Because of verse 35:

“Jesus…finding him…said…”

The verb ‘finding him’ is an aorist participle meaning that our Lord, the ‘logos’ of God, labored much in looking for this young man. He had something to TELL him: the good news! And the Savior went to great lengths to make sure He was heard. Give thanks this season that the Word made flesh, crucified, risen and ascended to glory has spoken to you!

Jesus said, “the One who is talking to you is He.” That’s the coolest thing He could have said in that seminal moment. Just think:

  • the same One who spoke forth His creation
  • the same One who commanded the sun, moon and stars to shine
  • the same One who called to Abraham and made from him a chosen people
  • the same One who spoke to Job from the whirlwind
  • the same One who warned Pharaoh
  • the same One who sang over David
  • the same One who cried, “It is finished!”

He is the One who has communicated His love to you! And since He is the Word, He is still talking and will go on talking forever. A word for those of you to whom God seems silent: never fear, there is a word forming on the lips of God for you. He who is the Word will not be silent for long.

And a word for you, devil of hell: He who had the First Word also has the Final Word. You, who tried to silence the Baby’s cry, will have the judgment of Almighty God echoing in your ears for all eternity.

We have heard You, Lord, and give thanks for the Word of Life.

“The shepherds went back, glorifying and praising God for all that they had heard…”
(Luke 2:20)

The Fellowship of the Unashamed

fishing-net.jpg

“Immediately they left their nets and followed Him.”
(Matthew 4:20)

The following is often attributed to an anonymous source but its origin can be traced to a Fellowship of Christian Athletes (FCA) retreat in Black Mountain, NC in 1966. This confession, ostensibly authored by several attendees, found wider circulation after it was found in the home of an African pastor who had been martyred for his commitment to Christ some years ago.

Read it.

Confess it.

Live it.

“I am part of the ‘fellowship of the unashamed.’ I have Holy Spirit power. The dye has been cast. I’ve stepped over the line. The decision has been made. I am a disciple of His. I won’t look back, let up, slow down, back away or be still. My past is redeemed, my present makes sense and my future is secure. I am finished and done with low living, sight walking, small planning, smooth knees, colorless dreams, tame visions, mundane talking, chintzy giving and dwarfed goals.

“I no longer need pre-eminence, prosperity, position, promotions, plaudits or popularity. I don’t have to be right, tops, recognized, praised, regarded or rewarded. I now live by Presence, lean by faith, love by patience, lift by prayer and labor by power.

“My face is set, my gait is fast, my goal is heaven, my road is narrow, my way is rough, my companions few, my Guide reliable, my mission clear. I cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away, turned back, diluted or delayed. I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of adversity, negotiate at the table of the enemy, ponder at the pool of popularity or meander in the maze of mediocrity.

“I won’t give up, shut up, let up or burn up till I’ve preached up, prayed up, paid up, stored up and stayed up or the cause of Christ.

“I am a disciple of Jesus. I must go till He comes, give till I drop and preach till everyone knows. And when He comes to get His own, He’ll have no problem recognizing me…my colors will be clear!”

Will mine? Will yours?

Peter began to say to Him,
“Behold, we have left everything and followed You.”
Jesus said,
“Truly I say to you, there is no one who has left house or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or farms, for My sake and for the gospel’s sake, but that he will receive a hundred times as much now in the present age, houses and brothers and sisters and mothers and children and farms, along with persecutions; and in the age to come, eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and the last, first.”
(Mark 10:28-31)

God, move in Your people to press into Your Kingdom (Luke 16:16)…

Parenting (and Childhood) Is For The Dogs

I’m going back through my prayer journals and just tonight I found a gem. Seems I was crying out to God for our son (ad nauseum) a year and a half ago, asking our Father to have and show mercy in his life. On the particular morning I was scribing, Graham had spent considerable time two nights prior, screaming that God was a “nowhere God, not real, and never speaks—at least not to me.”

Turns out, while he was ranting and indicting God for lack of evidence, some children in a wholly different household were praying with tears that the Lord “would get someone to help us get our dog back.” These children had lost their puppy, a mini Doberman, and were sorrowful beyond consolation. They prayed by their bedside that God would show up for them and, in typical God fashion, the Father was already answering their prayer through the unlikely means of a boy who was sick to death of a God who was “nowhere.”

The next day, my son finds a dog roaming our neighborhood and calls the number on the tag. The owners are elated. They tell their kids and Graham can hear their screams of delight in the background. “We’ll come get it right away!” they said. “Thank you and God bless you!” they said, and told him a reward was coming his way. Shortly afterward, a car came down the main street of our subdivision and Graham senses its riders, unknown to him, were the happy family coming for their missing dog.

“Are you the ones I just talked to on the phone?” he asked.

“Why, yes! Yes we are!” They seemed elated. And why not? Their dog, once lost, now was found. The kids would be jubilant!

But something didn’t set right with Graham. There was a sense, a subtle quake, his internal moral compass jerking to and resting upon true north. Then, yellow flags, turning fiery red. “That’s not your dog,” he spoke flatly.

“Uh, sure it is,” the passenger said, pulling the dog into the back seat by its chain. The dog, meanwhile, wasn’t exactly thrilled about going for a ride. Where were the kids? Graham thought. Why wasn’t the dog excited to see its masters?

The couple fabricated some story, thanked Graham for being a good citizen and drove away with the dog. Amazingly, he saw them drive on down the road and pull into the driveway of one of the neighborhood homes! When the real owners drove up, Graham told them what had happened, but not to worry. He knew where their puppy was and helped them get it. That’s when he found out he was the answer to some little tykes’ prayers. Think of it, at the very moment Graham was calling God out, complaining that he’d never witnessed Him do anything miraculous, some youngsters were asking God to be gracious to them and send someone to “help” them find their pet. And an insolent, skeptical, critical teenage boy was the one He commissioned. Talk about Win-Win! These children got their Fido back and the Lord trumped a crestfallen boy’s doubtings. Truthfully, far more than just that happened: God kept my son from falling a long way from mercy and grace. There were two rescues that evening.

Take heart, struggling parent. God will honor all your faithful prayers for your prodigals or for the one-step-away-froms, and He will get their attention. Sometimes he uses bushes, sometimes whales, sometimes Nathans, sometimes donkeys. And sometimes He might even resort to using a lost puppy.

Someone who obviously knew a little about the science of parenting, has these wise words to share:

“Every autumn I have a spate of letters from fond parents, teachers, guardians, and monitors, appealing to me to follow up on such and such a youngster who is away from home at college for the first time, and who has to be hunted, followed, shadowed, intercepted and driven to Christian meetings. I have scarcely ever known this desperate technique to work. I understand the panic of parents and guardians, but it is too late then to try high pressure tactics. Prayer, example and precept, in that order, are the means of bringing up children and young folk in the faith. Nor will high pressure tactics and brainwashing techniques avail when young folk have gone off on their own. Some young folk, alas, will have their fling and sow their wild oats, and come at last to heel, sadly, like the prodigal son.

It is where Christians pathetically put their trust in external techniques and artificial stratagems that young folk go astray. Nothing takes the place of the realism of holy living and secret wrestling before God in prayer for our youngsters. We must commit them to God so utterly that we dare not interfere or tamper with their precious souls.”

(William Still, late Pastor of Gilcomston South Church, Aberdeen, Scotland)

God bless, and with all due respect, parenting isn’t just for cowards. Sometimes it can just plain be for the dogs. And that’s a good thing…