Whisper Of God Ministries

Approaching God

Bill Cain — Thu, 07 Jan 2010 17:35:31 +0000

Approaching God
January 7, 2010

In the fourth chapter of the book of Numbers, Moses has written about the duties of the various clans of the tribe of Levi – the priestly tribe. In specific, Moses gives us great detail of what was to happen when the Israelites move to a new camp. Such a move of a million or more people was quite an event. The most critical part of any change of location was the moving of the Tent of Meeting. The Tent of Meeting or Tabernacle was of course where the Ark of the Covenant was kept and as the name implies, where God met with Moses. Only Aaron and his sons could enter the Most Holy place where the Ark was kept, and that is where Moses talked with God. They had very specific instructions for how and when they could handle any of the holy things. The fourth chapter tells us what all had to happen before the Kohathite clan could come in and carry off these holy furnishings.

Interestingly, when the Ark was to be moved, the Bible tells us that Aaron and his sons were to take down the shielding curtain and cover the Ark of the Testimony with it. Next they were to cover that curtain with a thick layer of hides from sea cows. Over the hides they were to place a blue cloth and then insert the carrying poles. Only then, with the Ark well covered, could it be moved. The Bible goes on to point out that if anyone from the clan of the Kohathites touched any of the holy furnishings, even though they were Levites, they would die. The very Throne of God on earth was to be shielded and unapproachable at all times. Only this clan would be allowed to even carry the ark and no one could ever see it in the general population. God’s meeting place was off limits. He was Holy.

In 2 Samuel, chapter 6, we have the ark being brought to Jerusalem by King David. Instead of carrying it, David has the ark brought up on a cart – moving it in an improper way. When the oxen stumbled and it seemed that the Ark would fall of the cart onto the ground, Uzzah reached out a hand to steady the Ark and died instantly. The Ark was untouchable.

We contrast God’s holiness as shown in the Old Testament with the birth of God himself in a manager in a cave in Bethlehem. The Holy God who could not be approached by the regular people now comes into the world in the lowest of places. His arrival is heralded to the lowest group of society – shepherds. He goes on to be known not only as the King of Kings but also as the Good Shepherd. What a transformation in the approachability of God. In the Old Testament, we see the emphasis on His Holiness. In the New Testament, while still completely holy, we have the incredible opportunity of approach God and in approaching him, call him our Father. We so often forget how radical an idea that was in Jesus’ day when he teaches his disciples to pray – “Our Father.” Paul will go on in Romans 8 to tell us that we are even the adopted children of God – co-heirs with Christ himself. Has God changed? How does he become so accessible when he was so inaccessible in the Old Testament?

The answer of course is Christ Himself. He bridges the gap between a Holy God and sinful man. His righteousness, imputed to us, allows us to stand before God. The gift of adoption is the highest gift we receive. If you are nothing else as a believer, you are a child of God – the son or daughter of the King. Your inheritance is His Kingdom and His presence forever. Find great joy in that fact. Praise God.

SAVE THE DATE! FEBRUARY 11 2010

Bill Cain — Wed, 09 Dec 2009 15:22:49 +0000

Whisper of God Ministries is thrilled to join other area churches to bring Ravi Zacharias and Stuart McAllister back to Gastonia on Thursday, February 11th. Our Kingdom Conference theme this year will be The Sufficiency of Christ. This year’s event will be held at Ashbrook High School auditorium in Gastonia, NC. We will follow the plenary sessions with an engaging time of Q&A. Remember we sold out last year. Mark the date on your calendar now because you will not want to miss this exciting event for our community. Tickets will be available from local churches and the RZIM website soon.

The Simplicity of the Cross

Bill Cain — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 13:23:55 +0000

Many of us have just finished reading Leviticus. This Old Testament book is one that often times stops those well-meaning Christians as they try to read through the Bible. Genesis is a fun and exciting book to read with all of the history and God’s magnificent plan of creation. Exodus compels us to continue reading because we have become attached to this band of people God has chosen to be his own. We follow with anticipation the movement out of Egypt, the giving of the Law, and the trials and tribulations of a people who see miracles but are still bound by the sinfulness of their own hearts. But then in God’s good providence comes the book of Leviticus.

We all know that this book is inspired and God breathed, and we begin reading with our continued expectation of historical narrative that has drawn us into this wonderful story. Quickly, however, we get bogged down in the many sacrifices, rules, and regulations for everything from the Grain Offerings to rules on mildew. We learn which parts of what animals they could and could not eat, how they were to eat and where, when to bring and what kind of offering to bring. If you had some level of wealth you were required to bring one thing, if you were poor – still another animal. Skin diseases, sexual relationships, and how to handle the dead are all included. As we read, one could easily think – how did these people get anything else done!

A proper understanding however of all of these rules and regulations brings us to a better understanding of worship and the holiness of God. So often today we come casually before our great God. Leviticus is a great reminder of the respect and honor that is due him. His holiness, his Name is to be honored in all that we do and worship is about him – not just what we need.
All of this has been moving me in the last month to a better appreciation of the simplicity of the Cross. Christ died once for all who call on his Name. He died once for all those that the Father had given him. Unlike the Israelites, I don’t have to repeatedly make atonement for my continual sin. He is the one-time scapegoat. Christ died for me – once for all. Of course there is great complexity as well in the Cross. How could Christ die for my sins? How could God die at all? But these are questions for another day and indeed J.I. Packer is right – once we get past the incarnation, the cross and resurrection are more easily understood.

In our present case, the Cross is the simple one time answer to the repeated and often misused regulations of the Old Testament. God became my scapegoat for my sin. He is the atonement for my willful actions against him. For all who will flee to the cross, there is an everlasting grace and salvation that comes when you know him as Lord and Savior. His blood was shed for my sins. He died so I can live forever with him. The simplicity of the Gospel is the simplicity of the Cross.

1 Peter

Bill Cain — Wed, 08 Apr 2009 16:16:14 +0000

1 Kings 10

Bill Cain — Wed, 25 Mar 2009 12:53:07 +0000

Seeing God – Twice!

Solomon is a grand character in the Old Testament. The Bible tells us in 1 Kings 10:23, “King Solomon was greater in riches and wisdom than all the other kings of the earth.” It continues that the entire world wanted time with him to seek his wisdom and see what he had built and done. He had no enemies for most of his rule and peace was in the land. Silver became as plentiful in Jerusalem as the stones on the ground. All of his household articles were made of pure gold. His throne was unlike anything in the known world at that time. The grandeur and splendor of his kingdom must have been overwhelming. God had blessed him in many ways.
God had in fact appeared to him on two different occasions. At Gibeon (1Kings 3:5) the Lord appeared to Solomon and gave him whatever he wished for. As we know, Solomon wished for discernment in carrying out justice and in governing the people, and God granted his wish. The Lord was so pleased with Solomon’s request that he gave him riches and honor as well. The Lord appears to him a second time in 1 Kings 9 as Solomon finishes the dedication of the Temple of the Lord. In this appearance, God tells Solomon that he has heard the dedication prayer and will consecrate the Temple with the Name of the Lord. But then the Lord goes on to tell Solomon that if he will walk before God with integrity and keep his commandments, then the Lord will establish Solomon’s royal throne forever over Israel. He also warns Solomon that if he or one of his sons do not keep the Lord’s commandments then God will cut off Israel from the land.

As I look at this section of Scripture, I cannot help but wonder why Solomon forsakes the Lord, violates the Lord’s commands, and turns his heart from God. Here is a man who has had two different opportunities to speak with God and to have God promise him great blessings if he will keep the Lord’s commandments. He has seen the hand of God mightily in his own life and still he turns from the Lord. Why? Why does the world – in this case his love for women – have such power over him? How weak is the human heart?

As Christians, we have the blessing of salvation in our lives. We have the gift of God’s Word – the Bible – in our possession each and every day. While God does not appear to us, he lives inside us and has made our bodies his temple. He has put his Name on you and me. Yet we too struggle continually with sin. Too often we give into the enticements of this world and forsake the blessings promised from God himself. As you begin a new week, examine your heart closely. God has promised to bless us with his presence if we will follow him and live by faith. Better than appearing to you, he lives in you to guide and direct your steps by his grace. Lean on him and not your own understanding. In every way acknowledge him and he will direct your way – Proverbs 3:5-6. Growth in the Christian life comes by walking in faith with the One who died for your sins. Turn a blind eye to the world and embrace him in faith. The promise to you is not riches in this world but an eternity of blessed rest with him!

1 Kings 5 & 6

Bill Cain — Tue, 17 Mar 2009 12:52:35 +0000

The Beauty of the Inner Sanctuary

In 1 Kings 5 & 6, we read about Solomon building the Temple. As you may remember, David was not allowed by God to build the Temple for the Lord because he was a man of war. During Solomon’s reign, Israel is at peace with her neighbors. The Lord directs him to now begin and build the Temple for the Name of the Lord. It must have been a grand and glorious structure. Solomon gathers the finest materials and craftsmen to construct the building. The detailed planning must have been tremendous because the Bible tells us that all of the stones were cut and dressed at the quarry so that no hammering on stone could be heard in the courtyard. God would finally have a place where he could permanently dwell among his people. Chapter 8 even tells us that once the ark was in the Holy Place, the priest could not perform their duty because of the cloud of the glory of God filled the Temple. The chapters here go on in detail about how Solomon had the entire inner sanctuary covered in gold. The doors were all carved and covered with gold as well. The room must have been so illuminated by the smallest light because of the reflection from the walls and furnishings all covered by the precious material.

I could not help but reflect as I read this passage that the inner sanctuary must have been a very magnificent place for the Lord to dwell. All around the ark were the very best of human craftsmanship trying to show itself in an ultimate expression of beauty. That goal has continued through the centuries as man has tried to build soaring structures for houses of worship. Architecture itself has been used to make the eye go upward toward heaven while the buildings themselves were ornate and highly decorated.

Yet God does not live in a building. He dwells today inside of every believer who calls on Jesus as Lord and Savior. This passage forces me to ask myself, is God’s sanctuary, the place he now lives in me, as beautiful as I can make it? If God lives in me, what is the state of my heart and soul where he lives? Have I tried to make his dwelling place a place of beauty or have I forgotten to even sweep out the dirt? You see God wants to make his home in you – John 14:23. The question of the day then is simply this – how beautiful is your inner sanctuary? Have you tried to make your heart and soul as clean and wonderful as is possible for him? Clear out the sins of pride, rebellion, and the other sinfulness that makes your heart black and give to him the kind of place he deserves in your life.

The Candle and the Bird (article written by F.W. Boreham)

Bill Cain — Tue, 03 Mar 2009 21:24:41 +0000

The Candle and the Bird

To all peoples there come, sooner or later, periods in which the maintenance of a Christian life and an evangelistic testimony becomes so extremely difficult as to seem almost impossible. This spiritual sterility may be precipitated by any one of an innumerable array of causes —the horrors of war, with all their attendant hatreds and excitements; a wave of materialism, frivolity, or sensuality; the concentration of the public mind on subsidiary issues; or some other development that tends to hurl serious thought into obscurity.

But, whatever the cause, such distressing conditions do emerge; and the thing to be remembered at those times is that this unhappy state of affairs represents, not the snuffing out of a candle, but the frightening away of a bird. The distinction is vital. If you extinguish a light, the act is final: you plunge the room into darkness without creating any illumination elsewhere. The flame does not flash into being in some other part of the house. But if you startle a bird, the gentle creature flies away and sings its lovely song upon some other bough.

Several illustrations of this essential principle confront us in the annals of the early Church. A time came when, at Antioch, the Jews refused Paul and Barnabas a hearing. ‘Very well’, exclaimed the Apostles, “it was necessary that the Word of God should first have been preached to you; but, seeing ye put it from you, lo, we turn to the Gentiles!’ The light was not snuffed out. The bird flew to another bough, that was all!

A little later, the two Apostles journeyed through Asia, intending to preach the word in every city. But, to their dismay, every door was closed against them. They were amazed and bewildered. But when they reached the end of the long road and saw nothing but the sea in front of them, a vision was vouchsafed to Paul. He saw a man of Macedonia bidding him cross the intervening waters and invade Europe!

Think what these two transitions have meant to history —the evangelization of the Gentiles and the conquest of Europe! And when you have grasped their momentous significance, you will have realized the importance of the principle that we have set ourselves to establish. When the Church is overwhelmed by an apparently crushing reverse, it is never the snuffing out of a candle: it is always the frightening away of a bird.
I.
That principle is inherent in the eternal scheme of things. On the ancient monuments of Egypt there are crude drawings representing the soul, in the form of a bird, leaving the body of the monarch or hero to whom the memorial has been raised. In the form of a bird, mark you! Even the ancients felt that death is not the snuffing out of a candle; it is the escape of a bird. There is a divine element in man —an element which no tomb can imprison. And, similarly, there is a divine element in the Church —an element that no persecuting fires can devour and that no convulsion can destroy.

It was a dark day for the faith when, in the seventh century, the Saracens swept through the world, obliterating the Cross, overthrowing the Churches, and converting into Mohammedan mosques the most imposing Christian and Jewish structures. It certainly looked as if a glorious light had been put out. Yet, at the very moment at which all this was taking place in the old world, something of infinite significance was happening on an obscure group of mist-enshrouded islands in the northern seas. Paulinus and the other missionaries whom Augustine had led into England caught the ear of the court and of the people; the preparatory work of St. Columba in Scotland and of St. Patrick in Ireland began to bear fruit; and thus, whilst Christianity was suffering eclipse among the lands of Yesterday, it was laying a powerful and formative hand upon the lands of To-morrow.

Similarly, on the very day on which the French mob tore the Cross from Notre Dame in Paris and angrily abjured the Christian faith, William Carey landed in India and claimed a new continent for the Saviour whom France was renouncing. Both events took place on November 11, 1793. A pessimist in France would have regarded the act of the populace as the extinction of a great light: anybody who reviews the incident in the calm perspective of history can see that it was merely the frightening away of a bird.

II.
I cherish the hope that, one of these days, a writer learned in such lore, and with a flair for such a task, will trace the influence of this principle upon the history of revivals. Few studies are more stimulating than the study of those tremendous movements that have swept like a divine fire across the various nations. They stir the blood and quicken to new life the most sluggish and apathetic soul. But the striking thing about these historic revivals is that they are so transient, so evanescent, so temporary. They never endure. And the fact that, although so obviously divine, they never endure, sufficiently proves that they were never meant to endure. Martin Luther used to say that a religious revival always exhausts itself in thirty years. Isaac Taylor set a more liberal limit: he fixed fifty years as the maximum period: no revival, he declared, ever lasted longer than that. But the question that immediately concerns us is not the question as to how long a revival can last, but as to what happens when it fades out. And the answer to that question is that it never fades out. If it seems to vanish at one place, it is only that it may appear at another. For the end of a revival is invariably the beginning of a revival. Its termination is never the snuffing out of a candle: it is always the frightening away of a bird.

Is there, in our own annals, or in the annals of any other country, the record of a revival comparable with the Puritan revival of the seventeenth century? Beyond the shadow of a doubt, it was a period of divine illumination. Like the sunrise playing simultaneously upon many snowcapped peaks, the light was caught and reflected by many totally diverse but really majestic personalities. John Hampden, George Fox, and Samuel Rutherford, for example, have little or no connection with each other, yet each represents a focal point in this celestial movement. As we project our minds into that memorable time, the stately and satisfying figures, the sturdy and eloquent faces of Oliver Cromwell, John Milton, and John Bunyan, moving amidst a cloud of kindred spirits, leap at once to our minds. We instinctively feel that Puritanism was not frolic of circumstance, no freak of history. The movement that has left as its indestructible monuments such works as Paradise Lost and The Pilgrim’s Progress can only be regarded as a heavenly revelation. The Puritans, as Macaulay says, were ‘men who, instead of catching occasional glimpses of the Deity through an obscuring veil, aspired to gaze full on His intolerable brightness and to commune with him face to face’. The entire country was made to feel that God was palpitatingly near: the hush of the eternal brooded over city and hamlet. With the light of heaven on their faces and the fear of God in their hearts, the Puritans overhauled and rearranged everything. They put the king in his right place, and the Parliament in its right place, and the Bible in its right place, and the Church in its right place; and they did all this by putting God in His right place; they enthroned Him as head over all. It was a time in which earth seemed crammed with heaven, and the songs of the angels filled with divine melody the English sky.

It was very wonderful; but it did not last. The spirit of Puritanism decayed with the accession of Puritanism to political authority. As soon as it became fashionable to dress as the Puritans dressed, to talk as the Puritans talked, and to do as the Puritans did, all men became Puritans. They might have felt no regenerating power in their hearts, but they could at least wear drab clothing, allow their hair to fall about their shoulders, interlard their conversations with pious ejaculations and give to their children biblical names. And then, the movement having become rotten within, it quickly received its deathblow from without. Two years after the death of Cromwell, the Stuarts were restored to power. A swing of the pendulum immediately followed. The nation experienced one of those violent reactions that so frequently mark the pages of history. Paradise was lost.

III.
No revival, according to Isaac Taylor, can live for half a century. Fifty years after Puritanism had achieved its crowning triumphs, England was knee-deep in mire. The glory had departed, and its departure had broken Milton’s heart. Joseph Addison, who cherished the spirit and ideals of the Puritans in an age that had renounced and repudicated Puritanism deplored the fact that English standards and English manners had fallen to their lowest ebb. Politics had degenerated into an undignified squabble; society was as corrupt as it could very well be; music, art and literature were all degraded; the sports and pastimes of life were universally squalid and usually obscene; religion itself had become formal, sanctimonious and largely hypocritical. ‘Even the saint’, says Addison, ‘was of a sorrowful countenance and generally eaten up with spleen and melancholy.’ And, worst of all, the number of people who saw anything to be deplored in all this was so small as to be almost negligible.

Now the question is, did this degeneracy represent the snuffing out of a candle or the frightening away of a bird? Let us attempt to survey a wider horizon in the hope of sighting the tree to which the bird has flitted! And what is this?

On the morning of August 13, 1727 —eight years after Addison’s early death —a number of young people were gathered for prayer at Herrnhut in Germany. Count Zinzendorf, the leader of the little band, was only twenty-seven, and it is doubtful if any of the others were very much older. What happened they could never precisely define. All that they could say was that a radiant sense of the nearness of Christ suddenly visited them, and, when their little gathering broke up at noon, they ‘scarcely knew whether they still belonged to the earth or had actually gone to heaven’. In telling the story of their lustrous experience to their friends, the wondering hearers quickly contracted the sacred contagion.

Thus was born the Moravian movement —one of the most intensely spiritual and most passionately missionary organizations of all time. Fifty years before William Carey had inaugurated the era of organized missions to the heathen, these inspired Moravians had undertaken the evangelization of the world. Within five years of that memorable meeting at Herrnhut, they had sent missionaries to the Negro of the West Indies and to the Eskimo in the frozen North, quickly following these experimental ventures by dispatching evangelists, not only to every country in Europe, but to the four quarters of the globe. See, sings William Cowper,
See Germany send forth
Her sons to preach Christ in the farthest North;
Fired with a zeal peculiar, they defy
The rage and rigour of a Polar sky,
And plant successfully sweet Sharon’s rose
On icy plains and in eternal snows.

When, later in the century, William Carey endeavoured to persuade the English Baptists to initiate a missionary crusade, he held in his hand the inspiring records of the Moravians. Throwing the pamphlet on the table, he exclaimed: ‘See what these Moravians have done! Cannot we follow their example and in obedience to our heavenly Master go out into all the world and preach the gospel?’

Now the striking thing is that this impressive and fruitful outbreak in Germany exactly synchronized with the evaporation of the Puritan revival in England. It was not that a light had been extinguished: it was that a bird had been frightened away.

IV.
But, like the English movement, the German movement also spent itself. That never-to-be-forgotten meeting at Herrnhut was held in 1727. Whilst those young people were passing through that Pentecostal experience, Voltaire was bending over the finished manuscript of his first book. The writings of Voltaire quickly captivated the mind of a young German prince who was destined to be known to history as Frederick the Great. Frederick at once entered upon an admiring correspondence with the brilliant Frenchman, eventually inviting him to share the spendours of his palace at Berlin. And, in the hurricane of materialism and militarism that swept over Germany under the regime, the Moravian movement shared the melancholy fate that had befallen Puritanism in England.

But had the light been extinguished? Was it that a candle had been put out or that a bird had been frightened away? Before the flame died down in Germany, a spark wafted from it had ignited in England a blaze that was destined, not only to spread throughout the entire land, but to awaken reverberations and repercussions to the utmost ends of the earth. For, among those whose souls had been captivated by the gracious influence of the Moravians was Mr. John Wesley. And, at that historic meeting at Aldersgate Street on the evening of May 24, 1738, Mr. Wesley ‘felt his heart strangely warmed, and did trust in Christ, Christ alone, for salvation’.

As a result, England was swept from end to end by a revival so pervasive, so dynamic, so irresistible that it affected —vitally, fundamentally, and permanently—every phase of our national life. In days when ancient thrones were tottering and hoary institutions crumbling, it preserved for us, as Lecky has shown, our national integrity and respect. The country was born again. Apart from the direct spiritual fruitage of the revival, the by-products of that transfiguring movement were literally legion. Social reforms were effected; slavery was abolished; industrial wrongs were righted; the plague—the spectre of the centuries—was banished by purer standards of living and saner sanitation; whilst philanthropic and benevolent institutions sprang up like mushrooms on a misty morning.

As we have seen, however, no revival lasts indefinitely. It is true that this sublime movement left, as its permanent memorial, the great Methodist Church, which will probably keep the flame of evangelistic testimony burning through all the centuries to come; yet the revival, as a revival, petered out. Within just about fifty years of its inception, the first ominous rumblings of the French Revolution began to be heard. All Europe was fevered by the new philosophy of government; all thrones were threatened; all institutions were challenged; all faiths and all altars were submitted to a crucial ordeal. Nothing could be as it had been. Reaching its tragic climax towards the close of the eighteenth century—Mr. Wesley’s century—The French Revolution ushered in the commanding and disturbing figure of Napoleon Bonaparte. The fury of the Revolution and the opening of the Napoleonic era mark the natural termination of the revival period.

V.
But again it was not the snuffing out of a candle, but the flight of a bird. And where did the bird now settle? It found a resting-place among the brown heath and shaggy woods of Scotland. Whilst the Duke of Wellington was fighting those memorable battles that, culminating in ‘that world earthquake, Waterloo’, brought the Napoleonic era to a dramatic end, a number of young men were appearing in Scotland who, largely influenced by the leonine personality and flaming consecration of Dr. Chalmers, were destined to become the spearhead of an extraordinary revival. W.C. Burns, Alexander Duff, Robert Murray McCheyne, Andrew Bonar, Horatius Bonar, and a group of kindred spirits were arising to lead the new movement. All at once, the Holy Spirit, we are told, seemed to fall like a rushing mighty wind upon one congregation after another, whilst even people who were quite remote from the various churches felt the glow of the sacred fire. ‘All Scotland heard the glad news: the Spirit in mighty power began to work from that day forward in many places in the land.’ This gracious and fruitful movement continued until the middle of the nineteenth century; and then, just as its driving force was beginning to flag, a striking phenomenon appeared in London.

A young preacher still in his teens caught the popular imagination and drew people in their thousands to hear him. Mr. Spurgeon ushered in a new day by creating a popular atmosphere for evangelism. This was his supreme triumph. In his famous Memoirs, Greville graphically describes Mr. Spurgeon—whose physique struck him as singularly reminiscent of Macaulay’s—preaching, at an ordinary service, to nine thousand people. It impressed him, as it impressed all thoughtful observers, as an arresting and epoch-making development. It forced the evangelical pulpit into the glare of public attention. The world was compelled to take notice. It made thinkable and possible the work of all those ministers and evangelists who have since captured the attention of the populace. And it is only when we attempt to estimate the spiritual, ethical, and civil value of the impact of Mr. Spurgeon’s flaming intensity upon each individual unit in the surging crowds that flocked every Sunday with wistful hearts to hear him that we realize how generously and how vitally he contributed to the new order that sprang into being in his time.

And so we bring our study down to within living memory. Let no man become unduly depressed because, here or there, the good work seems to flag. If, with us, the sun seems to be setting, you may depend upon it that other people, far away, are gratefully greeting the dawn. In a public reading-room, I one day picked up a London journal in which I read a series of somewhat dismal letters concerning ‘The Dearth of Conversions’. On the very same table I found a couple of magazines. One contained an article by Dr. A. W. Hitchcock, telling of the sensational progress of the work of God in Korea, whilst the other told of a single church on the Congo that is welcoming to its membership more than five hundred converts a year. And thus—
…while the tired waves, vainly breaking,
Seem here no painful inch to gain,
Far off, through creeks and inlets making,
Comes silent, flooding in, the main.
And not by eastern windows only,
When daylight comes, comes in the light,
In front, the sun climbs slow, how slowly,
But westward, look, the land is bright!

So true is it that a period of spiritual sterility invariably represents, not the extinguishing of a candle, but the frightening away of a bird. I have here attempted but a few fugitive illustrations. It will be the duty of that happy historian who undertakes to expound the principle more exhaustively to show that there have been times when the holy flame has visited other lands than those which I have mentioned, flitting from Holland to Switzerland, and from hemisphere to hemisphere. Often it has confined itself to no national frontiers, but has swept across an area that has included many peoples. But the principle is the same. When we have occasion to lament the spiritual poverty immediately around us, we may be sure that the bird that has forsaken us is singing his lovely song, to somebody else’s rapture, on a distant bough. And so it shall continue until that day dawns for which the Church has ever prayed, when the holy Dove shall feel equally at home on every shore and the earth shall be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord as the waters cover the sea.

Boulevards of Paradise
F.W. Boreham
The Epworth Press (Edgar C. Barton), London, 1944

Matthew 9 – 12

Bill Cain — Mon, 16 Feb 2009 21:19:21 +0000

Matthew 1-7

Bill Cain — Mon, 09 Feb 2009 17:32:34 +0000

Loving the Enemy

As we move our way through the first 5 or 6 chapters of the Gospel of Matthew, we cover many events very quickly. The pace of Matthew’s book is almost too fast for the reader who wants depth of story. For much of that we must read the other gospels. He gives cursory attention to the birth of Christ but pauses longer for the story of the Magi. Here we find out about the flight to Egypt and the return. Finally, we have the Baptism of Christ and the beginning of his ministry. The first major section of teaching in Matthew is found in Chapter 5 – 7. It is here that I want to look briefly at an arresting verse.

Of course the setting is the Sermon on the Mount. At the Frick Museum in New York City hangs Claude Lorrain’s masterpiece – The Sermon on the Mount. This enormous painting depicts what many of us forget about this time of teaching – it was for the disciples – for believers. Lorrain carefully shows Christ in the midst of his closest followers as he teaches them some rather difficult things about the Christian faith. With the Sea of Galilee in the backdrop, Christ offers new insights into how the Christian should live in both heart and mind. One section that stops me almost every time as I read it comes in 5:43-44, “You have heard it said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”

These verses are radical and very foreign to us especially today. Persecution is not a big part of our lives in obvious ways here in America. For the most part, we have been free to worship our God. However, times are changing. We must read verses like this and take them to heart. The part that is especially applicable to you and me, even today, is to love our enemies. That is a hard verse to accept and live by. In fact, when you think about it, much of the Christian life is hard to follow. Once saved by the grace of God, we are totally dependent on the work of the Holy Spirit in our lives to enable us to follow these commands. Even the seasoned Christian will admit that following this teaching of Christ is at times very difficult. We are commanded to pray and love our enemies.

I wonder if the disciples remembered this scene when they faced such intense persecution. Did Peter remember these words when he was crucified upside down? Did Andrew remember them when they nailed him to the transverse cross? Did Bartholomew hold on to these commands when they skinned him alive? Did Thomas find the power to pray for them as they speared him? Christ did – “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they doing.” He loved his enemies even to the end.

As I look out at the Christian community today, I pray that we would remember these verses more often. The evangelical community needs to pray more often in love for those whom we should consider more the lost than the enemy, but it is hard. How do you pray for someone who has offended you? How do you pray for one who may have stolen something very precious to you? How do you lift up in love those who seek to take away your very freedom to pray? The answer is and will always continue to be – by the work of the Holy Spirit in our lives as we long and strive for a closer walk with Christ. Only by his grace can we follow through with our Lord’s command.

Deuteronomy 21-34

Bill Cain — Thu, 05 Feb 2009 13:56:55 +0000

True Everlasting Support

As we close out the book of Deuteronomy, in Chapter 33 we come across a verse that has been a favorite of many people. Those who suffer have found hope and security in the mists of trouble times. This verse comes at the end of the blessing given by Moses to the twelve tribes of Israel, as they are about to enter the Promise Land. You will remember that Moses cannot enter the land because he broke faith with God by striking the rock to get water for the nation – Deut 32:51. He will be allowed to see it but not enter it.

As I was reading this blessing, I was reminded of the mythological story of Atlas. You will recall that Atlas was a Titan and was punished by the gods for being on the losing side in the war between the Titans and the Greek gods. His punishment was to hold up the sky on his shoulders. Hercules comes across Atlas on his quest for the golden apples. Atlas tells Hercules that he will go and get the golden apples if Hercules would just hold up the sky on his shoulders until Atlas returned. When Atlas comes back, he decides that he does not want to take on this laborious job anymore and is going to leave Hercules there holding up the sky, but the mythological hero is too smart of Atlas. He asks Atlas to simply hold up the sky for a moment while he adjusts his coat to form a pad for his shoulders and then he will take the sky on his back again. When Atlas agrees, Hercules grabs the golden apples and runs leaving Atlas to once again hold up the sky.

In Deut 33:27 we have these words, “The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.” God is our true support and refuge. This verse speaks mightily to those of us who walk the path of trials, sufferings, and weakness of faith in difficult and hard times. Often we think that the bottom of our lives is about to give way and the freefall that will follow will wash us away. We see no end in sight to our misery and uncertainty. We live as if there is nothing firm in our lives to which we can hold. Just two chapters earlier in this book in chapter 32, we find that Moses calls God “the Rock.” He is our firm foundation. He is also the everlasting arms underneath our lives to hold us and support us even when we see no hope in our weakness of faith. God may not hold us where or how we expect him to hold us, but he is our refuge in times of trouble. His arms will never give out, his strength is eternal, and his arms will bear us up in love and grace.

When times are tough and when our world seems to be crashing down all around us as it is for many in these days, where is your foundation? Have you built your house on the Rock? Do you lean on the everlasting arms of God? Unlike Atlas of mythology, God is not tricked into holding you up. He does so because he loves you and sent his Son, Jesus Christ, to die for your sins. He is your eternal hope. Lean on him for he is strong and kind. His love is bearing you up even now.