Noise in the Void

Tag: Devotional

  • Lent begins in the wilderness

    Lent begins in the wilderness

    Scripture

    Next Jesus was taken into the wild by the Spirit for the Test. The Devil was ready to give it. Jesus prepared for the Test by fasting forty days and forty nights. That left him, of course, in a state of extreme hunger, which the Devil took advantage of in the first test: “Since you are God’s Son, speak the word that will turn these stones into loaves of bread.”

    Jesus answered by quoting Deuteronomy: “It takes more than bread to stay alive. It takes a steady stream of words from God’s mouth.”

    For the second test the Devil took him to the Holy City. He sat him on top of the Temple and said, “Since you are God’s Son, jump.” The Devil goaded him by quoting Psalm 91: “He has placed you in the care of angels. They will catch you so that you won’t so much as stub your toe on a stone.”

    Jesus countered with another citation from Deuteronomy: “Don’t you dare test the Lord your God.”

    For the third test, the Devil took him to the peak of a huge mountain. He gestured expansively, pointing out all the earth’s kingdoms, how glorious they all were. Then he said, “They’re yours—lock, stock, and barrel. Just go down on your knees and worship me, and they’re yours.”

    Jesus’ refusal was curt: “Beat it, Satan!” He backed his rebuke with a third quotation from Deuteronomy: “Worship the Lord your God, and only him. Serve him with absolute single-heartedness.”

    The Test was over. The Devil left. And in his place, angels! Angels came and took care of Jesus’ needs.

    Matthew 4 1-11 (The Message)

    Devotional

    Lent begins in the wilderness.

    Before Jesus preaches a sermon, heals a disease, or calls a disciple, he fasts for forty days. In that stripped down space of hunger and silence, the devil comes to him with three temptations. They are not random. They are deeply human.

    “Turn these stones into bread.”
    Meet your needs. Secure your comfort.

    “Jump off the temple.”
    Prove who you are. Demonstrate your importance.

    “All the kingdoms of the world can be yours.”
    Take control. Secure power and influence.

    These temptations are ancient, but they are not outdated. They are still with us.

    We still chase comfort. Our culture constantly whispers that more is better. More wealth. More convenience. Less discomfort. We may not be turning stones into bread, but we spend enormous energy insulating ourselves from hunger of any kind. We fill silence. We avoid need. We build lives designed to keep us comfortable.

    We still long to prove ourselves. We want to matter. We want recognition. We measure success by visibility and affirmation. Even our faith can become performance. If I am truly called, let it be obvious. If God is with me, let this succeed.

    And we still crave control. We want authority over outcomes, influence over others, the ability to shape events according to our will. Power promises security. It promises impact. But it often comes at the cost of compromise.

    None of these temptations are obviously evil. Bread is good. Safety is good. Leadership can be good. That is what makes them subtle. The devil does not tempt Jesus with something grotesque. He tempts him with shortcuts, ways to accomplish good things without trusting the Father’s way.

    Jesus refuses. He refuses to define success by comfort, spectacle, or control. Instead, he chooses dependence. He chooses trust. He chooses worship.

    That choice happens before his ministry ever begins. In the wilderness, Jesus clarifies who he is and what kind of Messiah he will be. He will not build his kingdom through spectacle or domination. He will build it through surrender and faithfulness.

    That is the work of Lent.

    When we fast, whether from food, media, noise, or distraction, we are not punishing ourselves. We are creating space to see what truly shapes us. What do we reach for when we are uncomfortable? Where are we trying to prove something? What are we unwilling to surrender?

    The wilderness clarifies these questions. It exposes our attachments. It reminds us who we are and whose we are.

    The deeper question of Lent is not simply, What am I giving up? It is, What has a grip on me?

    Jesus shows us another way. Not self sufficiency, but steady dependence. Not proving, but belonging. Not grasping, but worship.

    When we loosen our grip on comfort, recognition, and control, and cling instead to God alone, we do not lose our lives. We find them.

    Prayer

    Jesus, as we enter the season of Lent, help us to curb our worldly cravings and instead hunger and thirst for your presence in our lives.  Give us the will to course correct over the next 40 days so that we can celebrate your resurrection with a renewed sense of purpose.

     

     

  • Christ is Born, in Me

    Christ is Born, in Me

    In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

    John 1:1-5

    I don’t exactly know when I learned that the Bible does not precisely pinpoint the day of Jesus’ birth.  Spoiler Alert: there is a 1 in 365 chance that it was December 25th.  I do remember being shocked and a little confused.  I mean Christmas is kind of a big deal!

    For several years, I became what I will characterize as a “bah humbug” Christian. It wasn’t exactly a crisis of faith, but I certainly had a crisis of holiday.

    Over the years my cynicism softened as I continued to look at the bigger message.  The where and when of Jesus’ birth are not as important as the fact that He came at all.  As a species, humanity has a rather checkered past as to how we carry out our lives.  We, and by we, I mean me, tend to love our neighbors and hate our enemies (Matthew 5:43).  This inevitably leads to a two camps world view: Us and Them.  This is not a recipe for peace on Earth and goodwill to humanity, but rather various levels of war.

    But God did not leave us to wallow in our selfishness.  He did not delegate the task to a mere mortal or angelic being.  No, God took the most hands-on approach imaginable.  The creator became the created.    For three years, Jesus walked the roads of Galilee with a revolutionary message.  Love your neighbor as yourself.  When asked to elaborate, Jesus tells the parable of the good Samaritan (Luke 10:25-37), where the “enemy” of the Jewish faith is the hero of the story.  The implication is clear, we are all neighbors and we must show love to everyone.

    Then in a cosmic transaction I still only barely understand, God by way of Jesus made the ultimate sacrifice and died a painful and humiliating death.  Three days later, he rose again.  And somehow, someway by acknowledging this sacrifice, I get to spend eternity with God.

    We have a holiday to commemorate God’s ultimate sacrifice, Easter of course.  But how do we remember that God did not leave us alone, that he chose to dwell among us?  That my friends, is Christmas.  It is the time we celebrate God becoming vulnerable, becoming one of us.  The time and date may be interesting, but merely a footnote.  The banner headline is that God came to be with us (John 1:14)!  That is something to celebrate.

    These days I tend to frame Christmas around two pivotal moments, one universal and one quite personal.  The first I’ve already elaborated on.  The second was when the God of the universe made a home in my heart.  It was an innocent biologic question I asked my mother on the drive home from church.  I was all of 5 years old when I asked how Jesus could literally fit in my heart. We were a block away from home.  My mother pulled the car over and helped me to invite the infinite God of the universe into my growing heart.

    I believe He was always there, but I became aware of it that day.  I believe the course of my life was forever altered.

    May the infinite God find home in your finite heart.  Merry Christmas.

    Prayer

    God who said, “Let there be light,” and who turned on the lights in the heart of a five-year-old child this season we remember Your staggering decision to live among us, to die for us, and to live again. We thank You that by clothing Yourself in humanity, You have given us hope that one day we will be clothed in immortality. Amen.

  • Bitter Roots

    Bitter Roots

    Have you ever been hurt?  Dumb question. we’ve all been hurt one way or another.  It might have been a careless word, a harsh rebuke or even an all-out betrayal.  When it happens, we often wish for restoration.  The problem is as humans we all fall short.  Way short.  Unresolved hurt can devolve into bitterness.  The antidote is kindness.

    We all yearn to be treated kindly.  We want all our interactions to be loving and neighborly.  Throughout the Bible, we are admonished to “love our neighbors as ourselves.”  And we see it played out repeatedly in the New Testament in the interactions of Jesus with the public.  He healed lepers, welcomed those society rejected, and fed the hungry.  Jesus set a high bar. But what can we mere mortals do?

    Thankfully there are contemporary examples too, think Mother Theresa with the poor or Fred Rogers with children.  The world is full of kind people trying to be kind to others.

    Unfortunately demand far outstrips the supply.  We’re surrounded by people in need and people have been hurt.  Sometimes, the person who is hurting is us.  If unchecked, the seeds of bitterness may be planted.

    In this week’s installment of God Goes to the Movies, we explore the character of the Phantom in The Phantom of the Opera.  The Phantom’s life has been marked by pain, rejection and loneliness.  He is a man that has been scarred and ostracized from society.  He finds solace in the musical world by lurking in the shadows and making demands of patrons and performers in a Paris opera house, using fear as a tool to enforce his will.

    The Phantom is an extreme example of what happens when bitterness goes unchecked.  Though his backstory is not thoroughly uncovered, it does not take much imagination to understand what would drive an individual to do terrible things.

    Bitterness is toxic.  It poisons the soul and taints our relationships.  Left unchecked, bitterness can become a destructive force in our lives.  It’s so corrosive that the Bible warns us to:

    Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.

    –Ephesians 4:31-32

    In the movie, the Phantom is gripped with bitterness.  He lashes out and puts everyone in peril.  It would seem that he’s at the point of no return.  It is in that moment, when he is pouring out his wrath, that the heroine of the film shows him compassion.  She expresses human kindness by kissing him on the cheek.  This seemingly simple act breaks through the Phantom’s blood lust and moves him to release his victims.  Not a full redemption, but a spark of decency that he seemed unable to access on his own.

    There are phantoms all around us.  People who have been hurt, sometimes grievously. They may be unable to see God’s grace on their own.  Sometimes, a simple act of kindness can open their eyes.  The bible says:

     See to it that no one falls short of the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many.

    –Hebrews 12:15

    When we encounter people drowning in the depths of bitterness, they may hurt us.  Our first inclination may be to retaliate.  But like a virus, retaliation grows and replicates bitterness.  If instead we show grace in the face of hurt, we can sometimes allow the hurting people to access God’s grace and healing.

    The Phantom never has a full redemption arc in the movie.  He releases his captives and the movie ends.  We are left to assume he perished in the fire.

    The same is true in life.  Our act of kindness in the face of bitterness may not bring about ultimate transformation of those who would hurt us.  But allowing God’s grace to motivate our actions, we have at the very least prevented the contagion of bitterness from spreading.  It creates a spark.  And that spark sheds light on a better path for us and those around us.

    Prayer

    Father God, help us to feel Your loving kindness that surrounds us.  Help us to uproot the seeds of bitterness in our own lives.  Help us to find compassion for those ensnared by bitterness.  Make us agents of your love in the world.  So that we and those around us can live in your kingdom here on Earth both now and continuing into eternity.