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I'm sharing this journal entry from one of our sheep / shepherds for your encouragement and invite you to share your stories to keep us connected David
Thursday April 2, 2020: A journal entry:
JESUS WEPT.
A Morning mist of low cloud wrapped soft around the hills.
I read John 6 and tried to ponder on Jesus the living bread. But the mist beckoned and drew me outside, quickly enfolding me in its clammy embrace.
There was no pausing to choose direction. I headed straight up the hill blanketed in the foggy stillness, only birdcall echoing the inner certainty – she’s coming to pray.
Pray up the hill. I haven’t prayed up there for a while. I’ve prayed. But not there on God’s hill, my place of retreat.
At the summit, as cloud drifted and lifted, it was my heart that rained out its anguished plea, the cry for help with COVID19: LORD HEAR OUR PRAYER. Help us Jesus.
That was it. No wordy waffle. I perched on the rim of the damp bench, poised in grief and need; heart, mind and spirit turned to God, “Yet still do I praise you Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Living God.”
A lull then settled over me, like a mute button had been pressed to hush the turmoil of my distressed thoughts and wretched emotions concerning the plight of the world’s people. Wait. Be quiet!
Jesus wept. The words from last Sunday’s reading came to mind loud and clear.
33 When Jesus saw her crying, and the Judaeans who had come with her crying, he was deeply stirred in his spirit, and very troubled. 34 ‘Where have you laid him?’ he asked. ‘Master,’ they said, ‘come and see.’ 35 Jesus burst into tears. (John 11:33-35 NTE)
I too burst into tears, and as I wept, there at the top of the hill, I knew he was weeping with me. Weeping with all the world. Weeping for us all.
Turn to me. And I, turning, vision all awash, could see clearly, he was there. Feed my sheep. To this I shook my head, and thought, I’m no pastor. You are a minister of my word. Therefore, speak my word to others. Speak my word to one another. And suddenly understanding dawned. “You aren’t just saying this to me, are you? It’s your call to all of us: Feed your sheep. The responsibility is ours collectively.” And I pictured the scattered sheep, isolated from one another but belonging together and needing creative new ways of being church and speaking grace and hope to one another and others.
I plunged, then, down the hill, not following the worn paths but winding down the steeper slope, weaving through knee high weeds, around rocky mounds and patches of slippery flattened grass, to emerge at the wider base track.
Now is the time to forge new paths. Jesus is still the Way, the “base track” of my faith remains the same. It’s the network of familiar paths that represent how we have lived out our faith, that have fallen away, not God’s word or his kingdom, or his love.
I am thankful for this love that comes to us where we are: scattered sheep weeping in the mist of uncertainty. I’m thankful that Jesus wept and that his way isn’t set in stone. That he comes and calls us to discover a new and living way, today and tomorrow and the next day. Hallelujah! This is a new day! And the Jesus who weeps with us in our distress will renew us and lead us on beyond COVID19.
JESUS WEPT.
The autumn sun filtered a pale ray through the drifting grey. A reminder that the God who weeps, also sheds light as well as tears.
The power of song
by Tim Klein
Click here to download your printable verse to carry with you today.
Sing to the Lord a new song (Psalm 98:1a).
Read Psalm 98
Sometimes, we can feel totally powerless and out of control. We don’t always understand what God is doing, and things are happening around us that distress and wound us. The world is in turmoil, and even Australia, which has known relative peace, experiences unrest. God’s word has gone out into all the world, yet so many reject and oppose him. Many people loved by God – even some in our own families – have rejected his love and salvation.
All these things can distress our hearts. They can unsettle our faith and call into question God’s faithfulness. We can feel powerless in the face of such distress. But there is a power greater than all of us. God is still God! He rules. Nothing can change that.
What a privilege that we can connect with the Lord’s power in many ways. That happens when he feeds us with his own body and blood in holy communion. It also occurs through the direct power of God’s word, present and at work in our lives.
There is another significant power that God gives us: the power of song. In the face of our struggles, he tells us to sing: ‘Sing to the Lord a new song!’
Tell the Lord’s story in song. Be reminded of all he has done, is doing and will continue to do for his people. Sing of hope. Sing of past and present mercies. Sing of miracles and mighty acts. Join with his creation – with rivers and trees, seas and mountains. With them, we praise and honour our God.
Not only does this honour and praise the Lord, but it gives us power and courage in the face of darkness, and brings light and hope into our lives. It empowers our lives with hope and the promise of God’s continuing lordship over all creation.
Lord of all: open our eyes to see your presence and what you are doing in the world. Open our ears to hear your voice all around us. Open our hearts and minds to acknowledge and praise your wonderful name. Open our voices to sing a new song to you every day. Empower us to live with boldness and hope as your living and active presence in the world. In the name of Christ. Amen.
Tim is a recently retired LCANZ pastor. He enjoys spending time with family, connecting with neighbours and gardening. This is the season of flowers: beautiful irises, anemones, proteas, leucodendrons and leucospermums – and roses! They all give witness to God’s glory and grace.
Betrayal and grief
by Tim Klein
Click here to download your printable verse to carry with you today.
The king was shaken. He went up to the room over the gateway and wept. As he went, he said: ‘O my son Absalom! My son, my son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you – O Absalom, my son, my son!’ (2 Samuel 18:33).
Read 2 Samuel 18:19–33
The saga of Absalom is over. Absalom and his lustrous locks lie in a stone-covered pit. The king, his father David, mourns for his death. ‘O Absalom, my son, my son.’
Given Absalom’s betrayal, why did David mourn with such grief? This son, a son whom he loved greatly, had conspired against him, attacked him and caused grief in the households of thousands of soldiers. Does he deserve the grief of his father?
Contrast this with the death of David’s son from Uriah, which we read in Monday’s devotion. The boy is dying, David is fasting and weeping, pleading with God to heal him. When the boy dies, David simply gets on with life. We don’t hear about any significant grief – nothing at all like his grief over the death of Absalom.
I am wondering if there is some crossover with Jesus’ thoughts when he said, ‘I tell you, in the same way, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous people who have no need of repentance’ (Luke 15:7).
It’s as if the boy, who was young and had done no evil against David, is not mourned because he is safe and saved. Whereas Absalom, on the other hand, has committed so much betrayal and violence that David is mourning his eternal loss.
There’s no easy way to explain this double-sided dealing from a human perspective. But what about from the Lord’s perspective? I’m still reflecting on this.
I’m caring for a dying man as I write this. He’s a man of faith. Yes, his family and I will mourn his death, but we will also celebrate and give thanks to God for his life – here and into eternity. God will welcome him safely home: Well done, good and faithful servant – enter!
God grant that our families and loved ones will mourn us, not with deep, explosive grief, but with certainty that we are safe and saved.
Father, we ask in Jesus’ name for a sure and certain faith and trust in you as we commit our loved ones into your keeping. Keep them in faith. Let their hope and ours rest in you. Amen.
Tim is a recently retired LCANZ pastor. He enjoys spending time with family, connecting with neighbours and gardening. This is the season of flowers: beautiful irises, anemones, proteas, leucodendrons and leucospermums – and roses! They all give witness to God’s glory and grace.
A monument to me!
by Tim Klein
Click here to download your printable verse to carry with you today.
During his lifetime Absalom had taken a pillar and erected it in the King’s Valley as a monument to himself, for he thought, ‘I have no son to carry on the memory of my name.’ He named the pillar after himself, and it is called Absalom’s Monument to this day (2 Samuel 18:18).
Read 2 Samuel 18:1–18
Have you ever reflected on these questions: ‘What is my legacy?’ or ‘Who will remember me when I am gone?’
I have a beautiful wife, three children and 10 grandchildren. Will they be my everlasting legacy? I also have several ‘daffodil children’ – seedlings that I hybridised while living in New Zealand. Some are listed in the international daffodil registry. Will that be enough as an everlasting legacy? Or should I perhaps do an ‘Absalom’ and erect a pillar, a statue of myself to be seen by everyone who follows after me?
And then I remember the words of the funeral rite: ashes to ashes, dust to dust. From dust you came and to dust you shall return.
Ecclesiastes 1:2 tells us:
‘Meaningless! Meaningless!’ says the Teacher.
‘Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless.’
How ironic that Absalom was buried in a stone-covered pit, despite his enduring pillar, his plotting, and his efforts to go to war with his father to take over the kingdom and the thousands of soldiers who died in that war.
Let’s not hand over our lives to anger and war. Instead, let’s seek peace and pursue it, using all we have to serve the Lord and each other. Our lasting monument is to be in Christ. Christ is the beginning and the end. In Christ we remain. His love, his mercy and his grace are the heartland of eternity at work in us now.
They will remember us for a while – but then we will be gone from this place, and they will remember us no more. When we live and move and have all our being in Christ, we are not ‘meaningless’. The best legacy we can leave is to be the living, loving, serving, gracious presence of Christ.
Father God, thank you for gathering us up into Jesus. Let our serving in his name, as his living presence, be our eternal legacy. We ask this in his name. Amen.
Tim is a recently retired LCANZ pastor. He enjoys spending time with family, connecting with neighbours and gardening. This is the season of flowers: beautiful irises, anemones, proteas, leucodendrons and leucospermums – and roses! They all give witness to God’s glory and grace.