Reflections: text

Reflections by the Pond: January 30, 2012 (text)

2012-01-30T11:21:15Z

REFLECTIONS BY THE POND
January 30, 2012

Faces

Odd, the process of strangers becoming familiar acquaintances,
then, perhaps later, becoming friends. One steps into a roomful
of strangers for the first time; each face is a mask representing
an unknown: no background, no common history, no point of
reference. Just a face, perhaps a voice and a handshake. A
greeting is proffered, but is it real? Does it give voice to
genuine interest, or is it just another perfunctory recitation?

Who are these people? What do they believe, what do they stand
for? What are their names, and to whom do they belong? What do
they do, how are they dressed during the other days of the week?
What are their lives like when they have removed their good
clothes, when they have removed their Sunday face?

The place itself is unfamiliar. Four walls without personality;
they speak little of what has transpired within their comfortable
but polished embrace. Has this been a place of joy, of triumphs?
Has it known the weeping of sorrow, the bile of anger and deceit?
Does worship occur here? Is there communion with the Lord, or
just each other? Even with the few clues of a first visit, one
leaves knowing little more than was known before.

A Common Bond

The disciple of Christ steps into this situation with an
advantage: Just about every person behind the anonymous faces is
already a brother or sister. For the believer, visiting a church
for the first time is a little like joining an in-progress family
reunion at which everyone shares his last name--but who are all
long-lost cousins heretofore unknown. The common bond is one not
of familiarity and affection, but of blood.

Christ's blood.

"The glory which You have given Me I have given to them, that
they may be one, just as We are one; I in them and You in Me,
that they may be perfected in unity, so that the world may
know that You sent Me, and loved them, even as You have loved
Me."
John 17:22-23

Like two strangers on a blind date, there is usually a bit of
bobbing and weaving to the introductions. We smile pleasantly, we
shake hands, but we hold back, wishing only to reveal small
portions of ourselves at a time. The veiled fa‡ade we present is
less outright deception than an act of self-protection. We carry
too many scars from those times we have too-quickly bared our
soul to another. So, over the ensuing weeks, we measure out dribs
and drabs of ourselves--our personality, our beliefs, what we
know and what we don't, our interests and disinterests, our
strengths and our weaknesses.

Shock to the System

Over that same time, however, our perception of the others begins
to change. Faces that were originally blank slates become
familiar, nuances of expression reveal themselves. Anonymous
voices take on new colors; words and phrasing become
identifiable, associated with individuals. Unique behavior
becomes not only noticeable, but anticipated: we can now foresee
an individual's response to a spoken word, an event, or the
behavior of others.

And soon, catching us by surprise one day, we realize that what
had been an amorphous, faceless mob is now a familial group of
distinct, colorful, rather interesting individuals. The
transformation is sufficiently remarkable that we wonder--perhaps
only for a dizzying moment--if on our behalf perhaps the people
have somehow undergone a transformation of personality. But no;
they have remained who they are throughout. What has changed is
our perception--and thus, our relationship to them.

Two Hearts are Better than One

Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering,
for He who promised is faithful; and let us consider how to
stimulate one another to love and good deeds, not forsaking
our own assembling together, as is the habit of some, but
encouraging one another; and all the more as you see the day
drawing near.
Hebrews 10:23-25

As one Sunday passes into another; as the sea of shapeless,
forgettable faces morphs into a community of distinctive
personalities; as we learn more, bit by bit, about these
individuals, and they learn more about us--as strangers become
brothers and sisters, we are reminded that a unity of like-minded
souls is something far more than the sum of its parts.

Within the family of the local congregation the Holy Spirit is
magnified beyond the numeric instances of His indwelling. The
ministry of the Spirit increases exponentially with every two
believers; one hundred Christians in a room infuse it with far
more Spirit than one times one hundred. He is pleased to envelop
and pervade to a greater degree everyone present when "two or
more are gathered." And it is in this way that corporate worship
is magnified so far beyond that of the solitary believer in his
closet.

Similarly, the work of solace, compassion, and support is
expanded when more than one are given the opportunity to practice
these very Christian acts. One holding up one other can be a
helpful, but lopsided support. But one on either side not only
can support, but straighten. And it is when even more are added
around the one in distress that the mercy of Christ can truly
take root and flower.

Two are better than one because they have a good return for
their labor. For if either of them falls, the one will lift
up his companion. But woe to the one who falls when there is
not another to lift him up. Furthermore, if two lie down
together they keep warm, but how can one be warm alone? And
if one can overpower him who is alone, two can resist him. A
cord of three strands is not quickly torn apart.
Ecclesiastes 4:9-12

In the family of God, the face--that unique configuration of eyes
and nose and mouth--is but a preliminary and fleeting mark of
identification. Soon we recognize one another no longer by that
which lies on the surface, but by that which dwells in the heart.
_____________________________

Blest be the tie that binds our hearts in Christian love;
The fellowship of kindred minds is like to that above.

Before our Father's throne we pour our ardent prayers;
Our fears, our hopes, our aims are one, our comforts and our
cares.

We share our mutual woes, our mutual burdens bear;
And often for each other flows the sympathizing tear.

When we asunder part, it gives us inward pain;
But we shall still be joined in heart, and hope to meet again.
John Fawcett

____________________
Copyright 2012, David S. Lampel. All rights reserved.
Reflections: #0536
Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture is from the
New American Standard Bible (Updated Edition).
This and earlier issues of Reflections by the Pond
may be read and/or downloaded at our web site
at http://dlampel.com

Reflections by the Pond: Important News!

2012-01-28T13:08:09Z

New at our Web Site!

Dear Reflections subscriber,

We are pleased to announce a new addition to our web site: Bible Studies.

Our first offering is Paul's epistle to the Galatians. This 23-session study begins with an examination of the reasons Paul wrote it in the first place, and follows with an in-depth, systematic survey of the entire book.

Our studies are published in the Adobe Acrobat format to be used in a variety of settings—

adult Sunday School,
small group study in a home,
private study

—and are formatted, with Scripture text included, to be used

on-screen at the desktop,
on portable devices,
printed in either black-and-white or color.

In the coming months we will be adding more studies. In no particular order, they will include:

Text	Topical
Habakkuk	The Beginning of Heaven: Footpath of our Trek
The Beatitudes	Fingerprints: Finding God in the World Around Us
Jonah	Gaining Christ: Writing His Life into Ours
Philippians	Knowing Him: Becoming Reacquainted with the Actual Jesus
The Sermon on the Mount
Selected Psalms

To view or download our first Bible Study, visit our web site and click on the "Bible Studies" tab at the top. As always, there is no charge for any of our resources. Use them to God's glory, and the edification of His church.

Reflections by the Pond: January 23, 2012 (text)

2012-01-23T11:21:37Z

REFLECTIONS BY THE POND
January 23, 2012

REVELATION
Our words reveal those things important to us.

Though we are homebodies at heart, Linda and I recently stepped
out of our normal routine to visit a number of different friends
in their homes. And in each case the home we were in revealed
what was important to its owners. I do not speak here of right or
wrong, good or bad; simply priorities--those things each family
deems important to them.

For example, in one home there were a number of modern
televisions prominent. By contrast, in another home we saw only
one television, but the walls of practically every room in that
house--including the bathroom--were decorated with oil or
watercolor paintings. Two homes were filled with furniture and
cabinets made by the man of each house, while in another there
was no apparent evidence that the man of the house had ever
wielded hammer or saw. One home had multiple computers, while two
others had none at all.

One commonality among all the homes was that in varying degrees
there were pictures of children, grandchildren and
great-grandchildren prominently displayed. But in one of the
homes it was obvious that along with the future generations, they
also cherished the generations that had come before, with
plentiful displays of parents, grandparents and
great-grandparents.

High and Lofty Contemplations

If our homes reveal our priorities, how much more so our persons.
Whether we like it or not, whether we intend it or not, our
appearance, our demeanor and, most of all, our conversation
reveal to others that which we consider important. Just as our
physical dwellings reveal the lives of those who inhabit them,
our conversation and behavior reveal our heart.

"Do you not understand that everything that goes into the
mouth passes into the stomach, and is eliminated? But the
things that proceed out of the mouth come from the heart, and
those defile the man."
Matthew 15:17-18

Our words do not spring forth from a vacuum, or magically appear
upon our lips from an external source, but are the exhalation of
our own mind and heart. So in every conversation we reveal a bit
of our self--the condition of our heart, the thoughts that have
risen through the miasma of our mind to see the light of day, the
vocabulary and vernacular comfortable to us, and the things we
care the most about.

Therefore if you have been raised up with Christ, keep
seeking the things above, where Christ is, seated at the
right hand of God. Set your mind on the things above, not on
the things that are on earth. For you have died and your life
is hidden with Christ in God.
Colossians 3:1-3

My mom used to inquire of me, "A penny for your thoughts." And
that's about what they were worth at the time. What are your
thoughts worth? What do they reveal about you?

Do the words of your conversation flow easily, comfortably across
your lips, or must you constantly censor your words so they do
not reveal what truly lies within your heart?

What fills your heart, your thoughts? What flows effortlessly out
of them into your conversation? Is it "things above," or "things
that are on earth"? Is your heart a dwelling place for high and
lofty contemplations, or is it preoccupied with the baser things
of temporal life?

What is important to you?

____________________
Copyright 2012, David S. Lampel. All rights reserved.
Reflections: #0535
Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture is from the
New American Standard Bible (Updated Edition).
This and earlier issues of Reflections by the Pond
may be read and/or downloaded at our web site
at http://dlampel.com

Reflections by the Pond: January 16, 2012 (text)

2012-01-16T12:07:48Z

REFLECTIONS BY THE POND
January 16, 2012

LOOKING BACK

He was an old man, sick, tethered to oxygen, coughing up blood.
But still working. The last completed film he directed was
entitled The Dead. In his final days he was in and out of
hospitals, each time he was thought to be at death's door.

John Huston was a brilliant director and screenplay writer (The
Maltese Falcon, The African Queen, The Kremlin Letter) and
accomplished actor (The Wind and the Lion, The Bible, Chinatown).
He was charming, entertaining, intelligent, and could spin a good
yarn. He was also an unapologetic womanizer, a drunk, utterly
self-centered, brutally callous toward his many wives and
mistresses, and someone who loved to play vicious, cruel jokes on
others.

During his last stay in a hospital, when he believed himself to
be close to death, he was visited by Zoe Sallis--never his wife,
but mother of Huston's son, Danny. Zoe--born in India, educated
in England, whose spirituality had come from an Indian
guru--described their last time together:

John was beginning to think he was a burden on
everybody. And he didn't want to be alone, ever. He was
like a little, frightened, vulnerable child. All those
tubes in him, it was so painful, he couldn't sleep.

Because he was sleeping so much I was scared he'd died.
He wasn't moving. I put all the prayer vibes I could
possibly get into him. He had spent years criticizing my
beliefs, but at the end he sort of realized that there
must be something bigger than him. He asked me to get
him tapes of Plato, Socrates, and Nietzsche to listen
to. And he told me how dangerous ego was--so he got that
in the end.
(as quoted by Lawrence Grobel in his biography, The
Hustons)

John Huston did not know, and even during his last days did not
want to know, God.

With his eternity staring him in the face, John Huston wanted to
pick and choose his faith as if browsing a smorgasbord. With only
days left to live he thought he might listen to a little "Plato,
Socrates, and Nietzsche" to see which of those philosophers might
offer him a little insight regarding truth and the hereafter.

How very sad.

"How long hop ye about upon two boughs?"

Around the time of the prophet Elijah, the nation of Israel was
behaving in much the same way. The episode comes to a dramatic
climax (John Huston would have loved it) in the eighteenth
chapter of 1st Kings. Elijah sets up a challenge between himself
and the local prophets of Baal which includes the comedy of 450
of Baal's prophets pleading all morning for him to do something,
to no avail, and Elijah taunting them with

"Cry aloud, for he is a god. Either he is musing, or he is
relieving himself, or he is on a journey, or perhaps he is
asleep and must be awakened."
1 Kings 18:27 esv

When Baal never responds, Jehovah immediately answers Elijah's
prayer with fatal results for not just the altar sacrifice but
all 450 of those prophets of Baal. Earlier, however, the Lord's
prophet had something pithy to say to the people of Israel, whose
king, Ahab, had forsaken Jehovah-adonai for pagan gods.

So Ahab sent a message among all the sons of Israel and
brought the prophets together at Mount Carmel. Elijah came
near to all the people and said, "How long will you hesitate
between two opinions? If the Lord is God, follow Him; but if
Baal, follow him." But the people did not answer him a word.
1 Kings 18:20-21

Elijah's question--translated, "How long will you hesitate
between two opinions?"--is, in the original Hebrew, more
colorful. It could be more literally translated, "How long will
you limp on the two divided opinions," or even "How long hop ye
about upon two boughs?" The people of Israel were like dithering
birds, hopping about from branch to branch, unable to make up
their minds where to land permanently. They didn't want to
completely turn their backs on Jehovah; they didn't want to lose
that option. But they also wanted to sample these other
fascinating deities being offered to them.

The prophet of God had lost patience with them. He was saying,
essentially, How long will you insist on having it both ways? You
want to love God while you love everything that stands against
Him! If Jehovah-adonai is the one true God, then you must follow
Him. If this Baal creature is the one true God, then you must
follow Him. But you cannot follow both!

He Does Not Share Power

It would seem that most of contemporary society prefers to live
and think as the late John Huston--following then discarding,
picking and choosing from a panoply of colorful philosophies and
gods. Or not bothering with it at all.

God--the real one--is gracious and longsuffering, but He is also
jealous. He cannot abide diluted loyalty. He does not share
power. Time and again He tells us we cannot have it both ways--we
cannot keep Him, but toy with other deities. We cannot keep Him
in our back pocket as an insurance policy against our own
foolishness while we dither away our lives hopping from one
branch to another, sampling first one fanciful god after another.

"And I will be a father to you,
And you shall be sons and daughters to Me,"
Says the Lord Almighty.
2 Corinthians 6:18

The Lord Almighty, Creator of the universe, will not be a distant
cousin, favorite uncle, or even step-father to us.

He will be Father to us--or nothing at all.
______________________________

"Now, therefore, fear the Lord and serve Him in sincerity and
truth; and put away the gods which your fathers served beyond
the River and in Egypt, and serve the Lord. If it is
disagreeable in your sight to serve the Lord, choose for
yourselves today whom you will serve: whether the gods which
your fathers served which were beyond the River, or the gods
of the Amorites in whose land you are living; but as for me
and my house, we will serve the Lord."
Joshua 24:14-15
______________________________

The essential attitude of Platonism is aspiration or
longing: the human soul, imprisoned in the shadowy,
unreal world of Nature, stretches out its hands and
struggles towards the beauty and reality of that which
lies (as Plato says) "on the other side of existence"...
In Christianity, however, the human soul is not the
seeker but the sought: it is God who seeks, who descends
from the other world to find and heal Man; the parable
about the Good Shepherd looking for and finding the lost
sheep sums it up.
C. S. Lewis

____________________
Copyright 2012, David S. Lampel. All rights reserved.
Reflections: #0534
Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture is from the
New American Standard Bible (Updated Edition).
This and earlier issues of Reflections by the Pond
may be read and/or downloaded at our web site
at http://dlampel.com

Reflections by the Pond: January 9, 2012 (text)

2012-01-09T12:09:28Z

REFLECTIONS BY THE POND
January 9, 2012

When my soul is in the dumps,
I rehearse everything I know of you.
Psalm 42:6 The Message

LOOKING BACK

In a more logical world the first day of the year would come
around March 15, or April 1. New Year's Day--that special day
combining nostalgic retrospection for the year just ended with
eager anticipation for the year just beginning--seems wasted on a
day still mired (at least in this part of the world) in cold air,
gray skies, and a frozen landscape. How much better it would be
if the new year began on a fresh, sunshine-filled day of spring
flowers bursting forth to bring new life, new color to a gray
world.

On the other hand, perhaps it is appropriate, after all, that New
Year's Day comes during the time of gray-sky melancholy and
introspection, for in many ways our time on this path is better
spent remembering the days past, than anticipating those days to
come.

History Lesson

Our journey upward into Christ-likeness--that tremulous path of
sanctification trod by those indwelt by the Spirit--is to be more
a study of recent history and current events, than a planning
session for the future. Jesus told us

"For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your
life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for
your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than
food, and the body more than clothing?"
Matthew 6:25

Meanwhile the Psalmist, David, wrote

For the enemy has persecuted my soul;
He has crushed my life to the ground;
He has made me dwell in dark places,
like those who have long been dead.
Therefore my spirit is overwhelmed within me;
My heart is appalled within me.
I remember the days of old;
I meditate on all Your doings;
I muse on the work of Your hands.
I stretch out my hands to You;
My soul longs for You, as a parched land. Selah.
Psalms 143:3-6

Certainly the believer is encouraged to spend happy hours
contemplating his or her assured hope of an eternity with God.
The rock-solid promise of eternal life in heaven is surely one of
Christendom's most precious benefits.

But as believers approach one more year of living on this muddy
plane, their focus should be less on what will occur tomorrow
than on what transpired yesterday. All of life is a classroom for
those who have placed their trust in Christ Jesus; if we plough
ahead into a new year without first examining the lessons learned
in the previous, we run the risk of being called into the
principal's office for a dose of "applied psychology."

God's Daily Work

Remember His wonderful deeds which He has done,
His marvels and the judgments from His mouth,
1 Chronicles 16:12

The believer should not lightly regard what the Lord has done for
him during the preceding year. The point in time when the old
wall calendar is replaced with the new is the perfect moment to
ask, What has the Lord done for me this last year? How has He
amazed me, and what have I learned from Him? What prayers did He
answer? How did He solve my moments of confusion with wise,
timely counsel? How did He prevent me from doing what I
shouldn't? (Or how quickly did He forgive me when I did?) How
often did I experience the calming, healing balm of the Spirit?
What did He do that took my breath away, and left me filled with
His praise?
______________________________

Every day, in ways both subtle and profound, God works in the
Christian's life. Sometimes His hand is dynamic and strong, like
the piercing arc of lightning and the thunderous percussion of a
storm. We are left gasping from the impact, stunned by His power,
grateful that anyone of His supernatural might is on our side.

At other times His hand is gentle and soft, like the butterfly
touch of a mother caressing the cheek of her infant child. Often
his touch is so delicate that we are not even aware that He is at
work; we think He is busy elsewhere, with someone else's
problems, when all the time He is only a breath away from ours.

Let a Man Examine Himself

Before the believer moves into the new year, he must also take
stock of his own behavior in the previous. Oh, not to bathe
oneself in the agonies of abasement; not to occupy days on end
under the self-wielded lash of castigation. But to use the
painful self-examination as one more launch pad of praise to God
for His mercy and grace.

Christians are a people most blessed. They have intimate,
firsthand knowledge of God's longsuffering and forgiveness.
Sadly, however, for one who requires mercy so often, it can
become something common; the oft-forgiven believer can become
inured to mercy's costly value. So the individual must pause to
revive his perspective on God's mercy. He must elevate his view
of the daily graces that keep his head above the muck of sin.

The point is not to return to fondle and caress our old
transgressions, but to remind ourselves that they were once
there: that we erred, but God quickly forgave and restored us.
More than that, the point is to review the lessons learned from
our mistakes. In both triumph and failure (but mostly in our
failures), God teaches us valuable life-lessons that become stair
steps to sanctification. More than the dark act itself, it is the
lesson drawn from our sin--along with the resulting
forgiveness--that leads us ever upward into Christ-likeness. It
is the review and appreciation of these lessons that causes our
next year to be an improvement over the last.
______________________________

Then Joshua said to the people, "Consecrate yourselves, for
tomorrow the Lord will do wonders among you."
Joshua 3:5
______________________________

Now I have found the ground wherein
Sure my soul's anchor may remain,
The wounds of Jesus, for my sin
Before the world's foundation slain;
Whose mercy shall unshaken stay,
When heaven and earth are fled away.

Father, Thine everlasting grace
Our scanty thought surpasses far:
Thy heart still melts with tenderness.
Thy arms of love still open are,
Returning sinners to receive,
That mercy they may taste and live.

O Love, Thou bottomless abyss,
My sins are swallowed up in Thee!
Covered is my unrighteousness,
Nor spot of guilt remains on me,
While Jesus' blood, through earth and skies,
Mercy, free, boundless mercy, cries.

Though waves and storms go o'er my head,
Though strength, and health, and friends be gone,
Though joys be withered all and dead,
Though every comfort be withdrawn,
On this my steadfast soul relies--
Father, Thy mercy never dies.
Johann Andreas Rothe

____________________
Copyright 2012, David S. Lampel. All rights reserved.
Reflections: #0533
Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture is from the
New American Standard Bible (Updated Edition).
This and earlier issues of Reflections by the Pond
may be read and/or downloaded at our web site
at http://dlampel.com

Reflections by the Pond: January 2, 2012 (text)

2012-01-02T13:40:17Z

REFLECTIONS BY THE POND
January 2, 2012

LORD OF THE UNEXPECTED

By all rights and everything that is holy I should be gazing out
onto land blanketed by a foot of snow. It is January, after all,
and here in the Midlands, where all storm systems meet, this is
typically the coldest part of the coldest season of the year. The
temperature outside should be a breath-sucking, back-snapping
level of frigidity sufficient to drive the hardiest farmer or
bricklayer into long johns, an insulated suit, and facial hair.
The vista should be knee-deep white. I should gaze out my window
across a sparkling, crystalline blanket of powder to the frozen
pond, and beyond into the cotton-shrouded woods where the deer
and turkeys and squirrels reveal themselves against the
contrasting backdrop.

Why, then, do I gaze out upon a desert of brown and straw colored
grass to a depleted pond thawing around the edges, and beyond
into the furthest reaches of a naked stand of trees where deer
and turkeys and squirrels are invisible against an identically
colored backdrop? Why has my outerwear been reduced to a light
jacket as I contemplate returning the screens to a few windows in
the bright and over-warm sun room? And why are there cobwebs
forming on the tractor I use to plow the drive of snow? Why?
Because our winter weather has been unseasonably temperate, our
precipitation--frozen or liquid--virtually nonexistent. Snow will
not fall from a blue sky, and will not remain in temperatures
hovering around fifty degrees.

Without Actual Knowledge

It is not unreasonable to expect that in January it will be
stunningly cold and snowy. It does not require an act of blind
faith, nor does it reveal the imaginings of a lunatic. It just
is. Usually.

Come now, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go to such
and such a city, and spend a year there and engage in
business and make a profit." Yet you do not know what your
life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears
for a little while and then vanishes away.
James 4:13-14

The phrase I hear myself repeating to the grinningly ignorant,
who think it is perfectly wonderful that our winter climate has
turned tropical, is, "But there's supposed to be snow out there.
It's supposed to be colder!"

Funny word, "supposed." In the vernacular it has come to mean
"This is what should be because it always has been"--implied, "I
know the way things should be." But consider Webster's position
on this word:

sup-posed (su pozd') adj. 1. regarded as true, genuine,
etc., without actual knowledge 2. merely imagined.

Two cardinal rules inevitably become obvious to anyone who is
paying attention: first, Tomorrow is Unknown, and second, We
aren't in Charge.

Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind and said,
"Who is this that darkens counsel
By words without knowledge?
Now gird up your loins like a man,
And I will ask you, and you instruct Me!
Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth?
Tell Me, if you have understanding..."
Job 38:1-4

Just as Jehovah rather pointedly reprimanded Job, ("Who do you
think you are?"), He surely sits upon His throne, amusedly
shaking His head over the "supposed" wisdom of His created
beings. Because a certain predictable pattern may have emerged
over time, we deem ourselves to be prophets, able to predict what
should occur tomorrow. But tomorrow remains unknown to mere
mortals. And we are not the ones calling the shots; what will be
will be decided by Someone else.

Kings Over a Kingdom That does not Exist

The Lord has generously gifted us with minds so imaginative and
inventive that we suppose ourselves to be brilliant. We always
think we are the smartest ones in the room. He also has built
into us the capacity to imagine ourselves kings over a kingdom
that does not exist. But there is only one kingdom, and it is
His.

John the Baptist understood. He was a powerful, charismatic (if
eccentric) servant of God in the days of Christ on the earth. He
drew crowds, won the attention of the politicos and religious
leaders, and was dramatically influential for God at a time of
great upheaval and cynicism. His was a singular voice of
piercing, melodic clarity in a chorus of drab monotones. His was
a perfect situation for self-imagined--and
self-generated--grandeur. Today he would have his own cable show.

Yet when John came face to face with Jesus, in a moment he
understood that he did not know tomorrow, and that he was not the
one in charge.

"A man can receive nothing unless it has been given him from
heaven. You yourselves are my witnesses that I said, 'I am
not the Christ,' but, 'I have been sent ahead of Him.' He who
has the bride is the bridegroom; but the friend of the
bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly
because of the bridegroom's voice. So this joy of mine has
been made full. He must increase, but I must decrease."
John 3:27-30

We all need to have a John the Baptist moment--preferably each
morning upon rising. We all need a daily reminder--a declarative,
soul searching, direction-altering epiphany--that God is in His
heaven and we are not the ones on His throne. What may be
unseasonable to us, is never unseasonable to God. The Christian
bows before a sovereign who knows precisely what He is doing at
all times. He knows tomorrow, because for Him it has already
occurred. His vantage point is from outside our time; He dwells
at once in our yesterday, tomorrow, and today and enjoys complete
control over all things.

Even over what winter will look like in the Midlands.
______________________________

Eternal Power, whose high abode
Becomes the grandeur of a God:
Infinite lengths beyond the bounds
Where stars revolve their little rounds:

Thee while the first archangel sings,
He hides his face behind his wings:
And ranks of shining thrones around
Fall worshipping, and spread the ground.

Lord, what shall earth and ashes do?
We would adore our Maker too;
From sin and dust to Thee we cry,
The Great, the Holy, and the High.

Earth, from afar, hath heard Thy fame,
And worms have learn'd to lisp Thy Name;
But Oh! the glories of Thy mind
Leave all our soaring thoughts behind.

God is in heaven, and men below:
Be short our tunes; our words be few:
A solemn reverence checks our songs,
And praise sits silent on our tongues.
Isaac Watts

____________________
Copyright 2012, David S. Lampel. All rights reserved.
Reflections: #0532
Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture is from the
New American Standard Bible (Updated Edition).
This and earlier issues of Reflections by the Pond
may be read and/or downloaded at our web site
at http://dlampel.com

Reflections by the Pond: December 26, 2011 (text)

2011-12-26T12:12:46Z

REFLECTIONS BY THE POND
December 26, 2011

And there was a man in Jerusalem whose name was Simeon; and
this man was righteous and devout, looking for the
consolation of Israel; and the Holy Spirit was upon him.
Luke 2:25

SPIRIT SIGHT

Day after day he was surrounded by the most religious, the most
pious men in all Judaism. Rabbis, priests, members of the
Pharisaic and Sadducean parties, scribes, devout laymen--all were
in residence in the temple courts, all claimed a singular
understanding of God's written word, including the ancient
prophecies that spoke of Messiah.

Then a shoot will spring from the stem of Jesse,
And a branch from his roots will bear fruit.
Isaiah 11:1

"But as for you, Bethlehem Ephrathah,
Too little to be among the clans of Judah,
From you One will go forth for Me to be ruler in Israel.
His goings forth are from long ago,
From the days of eternity."
Therefore He will give them up until the time
When she who is in labor has borne a child.
Then the remainder of His brethren
Will return to the sons of Israel.
Micah 5:2-3

By now Simeon was an old man. He had risen that morning and
entered the temple court as he had every other day. But what set
him apart from the rest was that "the Holy Spirit was upon him."

Simeon and the Spirit were old friends--in his life the Spirit of
God was not just some intangible concept debated and discussed as
if nothing more than words on a page, as it was to most of the
temple scholars. No, the Holy Spirit was "upon" Simeon's
life--the holy Counselor was as real to him (perhaps more) as any
human companion.

At some point earlier in his long life, the Spirit had confided
to Simeon a truth--a promise.

And it had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he
would not see death before he had seen the Lord's Christ.
Luke 2:26

So Simeon met every new morning with expectation: Would this be
the day that his aging eyes fell upon the Messiah? Would this be
the day God would put to use the one thing that set Simeon apart
from the rest at the Jerusalem mount? Would this be the day the
Spirit would reveal the Promised One?

And he came in the Spirit into the temple...

This is why the old man saw what others did not. This is why
everyone else in attendance paid no notice to the young couple
with their newborn. Just another new mother coming to the temple
for ceremonial purification after having given birth, just
another new baby coming for circumcision and redemption as
first-born son. No big deal.

But Simeon was there "in the Spirit," and with the holy sight he
required only one quick glance to realize who it was in the
temple that morning.

...and when the parents brought in the child Jesus, to carry
out for Him the custom of the Law, then he took Him into his
arms, and blessed God, and said,
"Now Lord, You are releasing Your bond-servant to depart in
peace,
According to Your word;
For my eyes have seen Your salvation,
Which You have prepared in the presence of all peoples,
A Light of Revelation to the Gentiles,
And the glory of Your people Israel."
Luke 2:27-32
______________________________

Simeon had a second sight, a sight that operated not just in the
natural but in the supernatural spectrum. By this sight he could
see and understand what was hidden or inexplicable to others, and
this extraordinary sight was a sixth sense made possible by the
Holy Spirit.

When the Son of God came to dwell for a while on earth this
special sight became available--permanently--to all who placed
their faith in Him. It did not happen at His birth, but without
His birth it never would have happened. In fact, He had to leave,
to return to heaven, before the Spirit would come to live as a
permanent resident inside every believer.

"But I tell you the truth, it is to your advantage that I go
away; for if I do not go away, the Helper will not come to
you; but if I go, I will send Him to you... But when He, the
Spirit of truth, comes, He will guide you into all the truth;
for He will not speak on His own initiative, but whatever He
hears, He will speak; and He will disclose to you what is to
come."
John 16:7,13

So there He is, the holy Counselor, Illuminator, Guide--resident
in every believer, as much a part of him or her as the five
natural senses. Yet too often we who have been given this
extraordinary gift have let our "Spirit sight" atrophy from
disuse. Instead of nurturing our supernatural vision like Simeon,
like the rest of those "religious" people at the temple we busy
ourselves with the externals while we ignore the Power dwelling
within.
______________________________

By natural sight the little baby who was about to be named Jesus
was just another Jew born into the world. But by his Spirit sight
Simeon identified this little one as the Messiah, the Anointed
One, the one and only Savior who would shed His own blood for the
salvation of all who would believe.

Would you have recognized Him?
______________________________

Commentators are good in their way, but give me the
teaching of the Holy Ghost. He makes the passage clear.
How often we have found our utter inability to
understand some part of divine truth. We asked some of
God's people, and they helped us a little. But after
all, we were not satisfied till we took it to the throne
of heavenly grace and implored the teachings of the
blessed Spirit. Then how sweetly it was opened to us; we
could eat of it spiritually. It was no longer husk and
shell, hard to be understood. It was as bread to us, and
we could eat it to the full.
Charles Haddon Spurgeon

____________________
Copyright 2011, David S. Lampel. All rights reserved.
Reflections: #0531
Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture is from the
New American Standard Bible (Updated Edition).
This and earlier issues of Reflections by the Pond
may be read and/or downloaded at our web site
at http://dlampel.com

Reflections by the Pond: December 19, 2011 (text)

2011-12-19T11:26:44Z

Editor's Note: Gentle Reader, Because of the narrative nature of
this last installment of the three-part series of Reflections--
and the limitations of the plain text format--you might get more
out these issues by visiting our web site to read the HTML
edition or read/download one of the PDF editions. Go to
http://dlampel.com

REFLECTIONS BY THE POND
December 19, 2011

THEY NEED A SAVIOR
A Sufficient Sacrifice

He had never been down to earth before, but now that he had been
sent, Harry was determined to make the best of it. He was
determined to get along.

If the truth be known, Harry had never been terribly impressed by
the human species; he had always considered them a most
inconvenient, unsightly bunch. But ever since The Son had gone
down to be born and live amongst them, Harry had acquired a new
level of interest in the inhabitants of earth.

Harry had been set down in the hill country of Lower Galilee,
directly west of the lower tip of the Sea of Galilee, the great
fresh water lake around which lay the cities of Capernaum,
Gennesaret, and Tiberias.

Almost immediately his feet began to ache. The road was
hard-packed soil, and on this day it seemed to the angel that it
may as well have been forged iron beneath him. Each step on the
compacted earth jarred his bones. Meanwhile the gravity of the
globe worked against him. Harry was unaccustomed to these
physical constraints; heaven's surface did not press back against
one's feet, and there was likewise no force constantly pressing
one down toward the ground. How do these humans bear it all? He
wondered.

The road followed the contours of the land, rising and falling,
curving around the small hills. After awhile the road widened,
here and there small dwellings began to appear nearby: a metal
smith shop, an inn, a pottery shop surrounded by orderly rows of
mud bricks drying in the sun. The private dwellings became more
numerous, even pressed together, sharing walls, until Harry
realized he had entered what these people would call a town, or
village.

To the angel everything was intolerably filthy. The walls of the
houses were constructed of baked mud; the street was made of the
same: dry or wet dirt; even the people themselves, in Harry's
opinion, were badly in need of a bath: their exposed flesh--and
especially the feet--was caked with dust. To Harry even the air
itself was filled with dust, making it a challenge for him to
breathe.
______________________________

Feeling perfectly miserable, and increasingly homesick for the
purity of heaven, Harry continued on, passing down the road
bordered by businesses and houses, until he came upon a shop
surrounded by the pleasant aroma of freshly cut wood. Affixed to
the outside wall was a hand-lettered sign that read `Carpentry.'
Harry peered inside the open window; planing a new tabletop, a
middle-aged man stood working on a floor littered with the curled
shavings created by his tool.

Harry heard a rasping sound coming from a narrow alleyway next to
the building. Crouched on a bench was a teenage boy filing a
narrow piece of wood, smoothing the rounded surface to become a
leg for the table being finished by the older man inside.

What is it about him? Harry thought. He looks familiar, but how
can that be. I've never been here before. But something drew him
closer to the boy. He stepped into the alley and moved toward
him, mentally devising reasons he could use to explain his
interest. Just then the boy heard Harry and looked up. Instantly
his face broke into a broad smile, and the angel suddenly knew
what it was that had drawn him.

"J--Jesus?" He said, not daring to imagine it was true.

"Harry!" The boy cried, leaping to his feet. "It's sure good to
see you!"

His heart beating and his throat choked with emotion, Harry
embraced Jesus, but then, remembering himself, quickly pulled
away and bowed. "I--I'm sorry, God."

"Oh Harry," Jesus grinned, embracing him again, "I'm just so glad
to see you again."

"I wasn't sure it was you," Harry said, suddenly aware of the odd
sensation of touching flesh. He touched Jesus' arms, shoulders,
gripped his hands. "So this is what it's like."

"How have you been, Harry?"

"I've missed you. We all miss you."

"I've missed you, too," Jesus said, picking up the table leg on
which he had been working. "But I've got a pretty good life
here."

"So," Harry glanced around, "when will it begin?"

"What?"

"C'mon," Harry said confidently, but leaned closer, in case Jesus
didn't want others to hear, "you're the Messiah! You came down
here to save these people. When will you be taking over?"

"Take...over?"

Once again Harry was confused--and it was an unpleasant
sensation. Why did he always end up feeling like such a dunce
around The Son? There was always such a vast gulf of
understanding stretched between them--as if Jesus had already
made it safely to shore, but he still floundered out in the
waves.

"Am I missing something?" Harry said, betraying his frustration.
"Isn't that why you came down here in the first place? You said
they needed a Savior!"

Jesus looked down, and Harry could feel the powerful wave of
sadness emanating from him. "Oh, they sure do."

"So when will it begin?" Harry said insistently.
______________________________

"Come with me," Jesus said, drawing Harry out from the alley and
into the street. He led him down the street a ways, to where the
houses stopped, then pointed toward a nearby hillside. "Harry, do
you see that shepherd over there--the one surrounded by all his
sheep?" Harry nodded, wondering what Jesus was getting at.

"Do you see how he keeps the flock close by, protecting the sheep
from any
predators."

"Predators?"

"Wolves, jackals--they can come attack the sheep, kill them for
food."

"Hmm--yes, I see," he nodded.

"Harry," Jesus explained, "I've come as a good shepherd, to offer
protection and life to my flock."

"These people are up against some pretty stiff competition," the
angel snorted. "Caesar, the Roman army, Herod--don't you think
they could use a little more than a simple shepherd?"

"You're right," Jesus said, "and they will have more."

"Well, I would think so."

"Notice the small lamb in the arms of the shepherd," Jesus said,
pointing again. "See how quiet and gentle it is, so spotlessly
pure?"

"Yes, I see it," Harry sighed impatiently.

Jesus said quietly, "I've come as the Lamb of God--the sacrifice
that will take away the sins of the world." The angel could only
stare at Jesus incredulously.

"Harry, these people need a Savior," Jesus continued, "but not
another king or warrior. They've already had that. I'm not here
to save them from a power-hungry emperor, or an army, or a wicked
king. I'm here to save them from themselves. Only God Himself
will be a sufficient sacrifice to cover all that."
______________________________

Harry couldn't believe his ears. "So, you gave up everything...
only to..."

"I love these people, Harry. I came to experience what it's like
for them--what it's like to live with a body that ages and dies,
what it's like to suffer loneliness and pain, to feel the pull of
sin, to experience--as much as I can--what it is to be human."

"And I'm sure you've already experienced all that. Isn't it
enough?"

Jesus turned to Harry, and again the angel could feel the
powerful emotions of The Son pushing out from the small body of
Jesus. "My living like them won't save them, Harry. But my dying
like them will." He sighed and moved toward the hillside
sprinkled with grazing sheep, as if he would like nothing better
than to simply step away from his responsibilities. But then he
stopped. "Later, when I'm an adult," Jesus continued, "I'll spend
some time teaching and discipling a few followers. But most
people won't believe, and the religious leaders will conspire
against me. They'll work with the Romans to put me on trial."

"Trial?" Harry squeaked.

"This isn't heaven, Harry. They won't easily believe who I am.
They'll find me guilty--"

"Guilty of what?" Harry cried, his voice rising.

"It doesn't matter--it won't to them. They'll humiliate me, and
put me to death with other criminals."

"But you're not a criminal!" Harry protested.

"I have to die, Harry. It's necessary--for them."

The thought of The Son being tortured and killed for these low,
sinful beings filled Harry with anger and revulsion. How could
they? How dare they kill the very one who had come to save them?
Didn't they realize it was He who had created the world? Created
even them?

His gut ached, and his mind was gorged with anger at these
people. But still--even through his powerful emotions--Harry
understood that all this was, incredibly, part of God's plan, and
it was not his place to question. But his sadness for The Son was
almost overwhelming. He reached toward his friend. "Jesus..."

"But it's all right, Harry," Jesus consoled him. "Don't feel
badly. It won't be the end--but a new beginning!" He smiled. "I
won't stay in the grave. I'll return to heaven. And because of
it, these people will have a chance for life--real life with the
Father!"

"How much longer will you be here?"

"In earthly terms, quite awhile," Jesus said, placing his hand on
Harry's shoulder affectionately. "But in heavenly terms, no time
at all."

"Then we'll look forward to that day," Harry said bravely.

"As will I, my friend," Jesus said, turning back toward his home,
"as will I."

Harry turned to leave, but then glanced back at Jesus, watching
him return to his work at the carpentry shop. He would be
returning to heaven still confused about the reason for Jesus to
be here on earth. But he also understood that it really wasn't
important that he understand. More important was that the people
understood, for they were the ones needing a Savior.
______________________________

"This is My commandment, that you love one another, just as I
have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that one lay
down his life for his friends."
John 15:12-13

____________________
Copyright 2011, David S. Lampel. All rights reserved.
Reflections: #0530
Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture is from the
New American Standard Bible (Updated Edition).
This and earlier issues of Reflections by the Pond
may be read and/or downloaded at our web site
at http://dlampel.com

Reflections by the Pond: December 12, 2011 (text)

2011-12-12T12:38:48Z

Editor's Note: Gentle Reader, Because of the narrative nature of
this three-part series of Reflections--and the limitations of the
plain text format--you might get more out these issues by
visiting our web site to read the HTML edition or read/download
one of the PDF editions. Go to http://dlampel.com

REFLECTIONS BY THE POND
December 12, 2011

THEY NEED A SAVIOR
Just Like Everyone Else

Jesus pushed open the wooden door and held it for Harry to leave
the small house. From the compressed dirt floor of the building,
Harry expected to step onto the familiar, unresisting surface of
heaven, but instead found himself standing upon another, even
more unpleasant surface.

"Oh," he blanched, grimacing as his foot sank down into the wet
muck. "What's this?"

Jesus laughed. "What's the matter, Harry. Afraid of a little
mud?"

"Mud?"

"A mixture of water and dirt," Jesus explained. "This is what
happens to a road in Palestine when it rains."

"Rains?"

"Never mind, Harry." Jesus sighed, stepping carefully through the
muck until he found a drier path, which he followed down the
middle of the roadway that passed between two rows of dwellings
almost identical to the one they had just left.

Harry tried to keep up, placing his feet carefully along the same
path as Jesus, trying to keep his steps out of the unpleasant
mud. The light level was dramatically reduced, and his eyes were
having a difficult time adjusting. Harry strained to see through
the faint light: the seemingly endless rows of drab, mud-colored
houses varied only by the dim glow of oil lamps that could be
seen through a few of the open windows.

"Why is it so dark, God?"

"Ah," The Son raised his finger to remind Harry of his mistake.
"`Jesus,' remember."

"I'm sorry. Yes. I'm having a hard time remembering. Why is it so
dark, Jesus?"

"This is what is called `night' on earth. It's how it looks when
the earth has rotated out of the sun's path."

"How terrible for them!" Harry gasped. "And how often does this
phenomenon occur?"

"Every twenty-four hours, of course."

"Oh my! No wonder they're in such a terrible state."

"Not at all," Jesus chuckled. "It signals a time of rest for
them. Very important for the human body. Since I'll be spending a
little time in one, I wanted to get the feel of it early on."
______________________________

"This seems like such a drab existence," Harry said, continuing
on just behind Jesus. He imagined the impact on the residents
when The Son burst upon their community, and his breast swelled
with pride, knowing that he--a lowly 4th Rung angel--was playing
even a small part in God's preparation. "I sure wish I could be
there when you make your grand entrance," Harry said, his voice
heavy with awe. "It'll sure be something to see."

"Why do you say that?" Jesus said, continuing down the street,
glancing here and there at the houses painted by the fading
light.

"What? What do you mean?" Harry stammered excitedly. "Why, just
picture it: The Son of God arrives on earth in all his heavenly
glory! There'll be trumpets and cymbals and cheering throngs to
greet you when you show yourself to them. Why, they'll be so
surprised--so happy that the Messiah has finally come, in all
your majesty!"

Jesus turned quickly around, stopping the effervescent angel by
the shoulders. "Harry, settle down! Listen to me now: It's not
going to be that way."

Harry gazed up into the eternally patient, yet insistent face of
The Son. "It's not?" he said meekly.

"That's not how humans are born."

"Born?" Harry cried, his gut filling again with revulsion at the
thought of that most unseemly human practice. "But, you--I mean
you're already--"

"Yes. I am," Jesus said firmly. "But I must become flesh, and
flesh must be born. It doesn't just appear."

"But Jesus, isn't the whole idea to make some kind of an impact
down there? To actually change the world and its ways?"

"The idea, Harry, is to save lives. The idea is to give people a
chance to live with God forever."

"Okay. Right. And I would think the best way to accomplish that
is to make a real splash. Give them a display of your power--your
might. Really impress them!"

"Harry, Harry," Jesus shook his head sadly. "You don't know these
people as well as you may think. They aren't impressed with
`splash.' You're forgetting about the biggest splash We ever
made. Remember when We helped Moses save the people from the
clutches of Pharaoh? We split the Red Sea into two parts,
revealing the dry land, gave them safe passage between towering
walls of water. Talk about an impressive miracle!"

Jesus gazed sadly around him at the people beginning to emerge
from the houses after their small evening meal. "Before the water
could even fill in the dry channel they were grumbling and
complaining to God." He sighed, and spoke with a voice heavy
with sadness, yet at the same time filled with overwhelming
compassion. "No, they may be impressed for the moment, but that's
as long as it lasts: a moment. They don't need a parade. They
need a Savior."
______________________________

Harry was silent, watching the face of The Son as he studied the
people around the houses, images momentarily oblivious to their
audience. Harry felt the sadness like a great heat coming off The
Son's figure, and enveloping even him like an uncomfortable
woolen cloak. The angel could not bear the weight of God's
emotions, and stumbled back away from him.

Harry still felt he needed to confirm the unbelievable news.
Finally breaking the silence, he said, "So you'll be born."

"Just like everyone else down there," Jesus answered quietly.

The angel shuddered and said more to himself than to his
companion, "There's got to be a better way."

Jesus grinned at Harry, relaxing again. "Oh, and We've already
picked out my mother," he said teasingly. Harry, still having a
difficult time comprehending all this, remained silent. "She's a
sweet girl," Jesus continued, "from Nazareth--a small town very
much like this." He swept his arm around to encompass all the
streets and dwellings and people around them. "She's engaged to
be married to a man from the same town, so I guess that'll be my
home town." Then he repeated the name, as if enjoying the simple
act of forming the word between his lips. "Nazareth."

Their path had taken them to where the rows of houses stopped,
where the road broadened into the coarse scrub of the surrounding
low hills. Jesus stopped, scanning the horizon, still immersed in
thoughts of his new family.

"Her name is Mary," he said with quiet delight. "That's a nice
name, isn't it Harry. Her betrothed is Joseph. Mary and
Joseph--they'll be my parents."

Harry was still wrestling with the mental picture--struggling to
place The Son in the lowly confines of a humble village such as
the one in which they now stood, surrounded by people of low
means, such as these that milled about the town's mud streets. He
tried to imagine The Son as a tiny babe held in the arms of a
young girl named Mary, and the idea was so incredible to him that
the image kept vaporizing before he could complete the picture in
his head. It was just too much for his small mind to comprehend.
Harry thought about the girl, her innocence, her fragility, and
the amazing idea that she could actually hold God in her two
small hands.

"Will she know?" Harry asked.

"Know what?"

"That she's giving birth to the Son of God."

Jesus nodded his head. "Gabriel's already told her."

Harry was beginning to realize that these humans must be made of
tougher stock than he had first imagined. "Must be quite a lot
for a young girl to take in," he said seriously.

Jesus turned to head back down the street, deeper into the
darkening light between the crude hovels, back to the villagers
now preparing to retire for the night.

"Yes. I imagine so," He sighed quietly.
______________________________

O Son of God incarnate,
O Son of man divine,
In whom God's glory dwelleth,
In whom man's virtues shine,
God's light to earth Thou bringest
To drive sin's night away,
And through Thy life so radiant,
Earth's darkness turns to day.
William Fisk Tillett

(to be continued...)

____________________
Copyright 2011, David S. Lampel. All rights reserved.
Reflections: #0529
Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture is from the
New American Standard Bible (Updated Edition).
This and earlier issues of Reflections by the Pond
may be read and/or downloaded at our web site
at http://dlampel.com

Reflections by the Pond: December 5, 2011 (text)

2011-12-05T11:35:30Z

Editor's Note: Gentle Reader, Because of the narrative nature of
this and the next two issues of Reflections--and the limitations
of the plain text format--you might get more out these issues by
visiting our web site to read the HTML edition or read/download
one of the PDF editions. Go to http://dlampel.com

REFLECTIONS BY THE POND
December 5, 2011

THEY NEED A SAVIOR
Someone They Can Touch

Harry, angel 4-R (4th Rung), moved closer to the odd structure
standing curiously weighted amidst the diaphanous splendor of
heaven. It seemed to have grown up, like an ugly block-shaped
mushroom, out of the vaporous terra of the heavenlies. The cube
appeared as a gross uncleanness within the pristine dimensions of
God's domain, with textures and unpleasant colors foreign to its
inhabitants.

It's so ugly it hurts the eyes, Harry thought. They must have
told me wrong. How could The Son possibly be in that thing. He
moved closer, his curiosity overpowering the revulsion that
filled him at the ugly sight.

Harry peered around one of the cube's corners. The second side
looked exactly like the first. He crept ahead, carefully staying
clear of the cube's surface, fearful that contact with the coarse
material might inflict damage to his person. Reaching the end, he
craned his neck around the next corner. This side was much the
same, except that it contained a rectangular irregularity in its
middle. A seam ran straight up to a point just above Harry's
head, angled sharply right, where it met up with another seam
running straight up from the cube's base. Near one of the
vertical seams a loop of hemp rope protruded from the cube.

How does one enter such a beastly thing? Harry wondered.

Knock on the door, Harry, came the reply into his head.

"What?"

Make a fist and rap your knuckles against the door, just above
the rope.

Harry clenched his fingers into a tight ball and struck his
knuckles against the rough wood. Knock. "Ow." Knock. "Ow." Knock.
"Ow!"

"Come in!"

Harry stood staring at the wall. He stared at the seams that
formed a rectangle. He stared at the hank of rope. How? He
screamed into the space between his ears.

Pull the rope.

Harry yanked down on the loop of rope. The rectangle shifted, but
failed to open.

Pull the rope toward you, Harry.

He grasped the rope firmly in his hand and yanked it straight out
toward him. Suddenly the door flew open, sending Harry careening
backwards, leaving him sprawled in a tangled heap.

"Well, hello Harry! Good to see you." The Son reached down and
set Harry back onto his feet.

"Y--you know me, God?" Harry stammered, nervously putting himself
back in order.

The Son smiled warmly. "Of course I do. Now, what can I do for
you?"

"What is this thing?" Harry asked, studying the curious
structure. "Is it a new kind of throne?"

"No, no. It's a house--a mud brick house that people live in down
on earth. And this is how one comes and goes from inside," He
said, swinging the wooden door on its hinges. "Come on inside,
Harry. It's rather cozy."

Harry followed The Son into the structure. "More like confined,"
he suggested. Inside it was dark, smelled of clay and damp straw,
and the four walls and low ceiling seemed to move in on the
angel, leaving him feeling uneasy, and more than a little
claustrophobic. He sucked in his breath, as if air were in short
supply.

The Son laughed and moved about the room testing its dimensions.
"I think one could get used to it. Now, Harry, what's on your
mind?"

The angel had never before been so close to God. Only one among
countless millions, he had always been lost in the crowd of those
offering praise and worship to the throne. He knew that the upper
echelons--including the splendid archangels--were almost
constantly in the presence of God, but those of his stripe were
seldom so close to the throne and the magnificent Presence.

Now here he was, granted a private audience with The Son, and
without warning his tongue became a leaden obstacle to expressing
his thoughts. But he pushed back the powerful feelings of
inferiority--feelings that even he realized were created solely
in his own mind--and pressed ahead with the purpose of his visit.

"W--well, God," Harry began, "I--I've heard a rumor--a rumor
about you--and I thought I'd check it out for myself." Harry
exhaled, relieved to have finally gotten it out.

"A rumor, huh?" The Son said. "This can't be good. What have I
done now?"

"Oh, no!" Harry cried, horrified that The Son would think such a
thing. "No--nothing like that, God. You see--"

"Listen, Harry," The Son interrupted calmly, reassuring the angel
with a warm hand on his shoulder, "pretty soon I'm going to be
taking a new name--a human name. Why don't you help me get
accustomed to it by using it now."

"Uh, sure. I could do that."

"Good. The name is 'Jesus.'"
______________________________

Harry rolled the unfamiliar word around in his mind, sampling the
flavor of it, mentally affixing the name to The Son. "Je-sus.
Well, that shouldn't be so hard. Jesus." He grinned up at The
Son, feeling his earlier nervousness slip away more with every
moment spent in the Presence. "Well, God," he began. "Sorry;
Jesus, I've heard others talking about you going down to earth
for awhile, and--"

Suddenly a light went off in Harry's brain. Of course! The new
name, the curious structure in which they now stood--these were
in preparation for The Son's visit! Harry was slow, he knew; he
wasn't still on the 4th Rung after all his centuries for nothing.
But sooner or later he was able to put the pieces together.

"Then, of course," Harry blurted out, "it must be true! Why else
would you need a human name!"

Jesus grinned at the angel. He winked and said, "Harry, don't
ever let them sell you short. You're right on the ball."

"Then it is true?"

Jesus nodded. "That's why I made this house: so I could get used
to living as humans do--to experience the sights and smells and
sounds of their existence."

"But Jesus," Harry shook his head, perplexed, "You've never done
anything like this before."

"Sure I have. A few times, anyway. Don't you remember when I
visited Abraham and Sarah at the oaks of Mamre?" Harry did
remember, and recalled how fascinated he had been watching The
Son personally give the two old believers the news that Sarah
would indeed give birth to a son. Yes, and he now recalled even
more instances in which God had visited earth to deal more
directly with His people.

"So then," Harry said, "this is no big deal."

The Son turned quickly serious, moving about the small room as if
measuring its area. "Actually it is," He said, stopping before
the wall opposite the door. Instantly a small square opening
appeared in the mud brick, and white heavenly light pierced into
the dark interior of the structure. "This time, Harry, will be
quite different. This time I'll be there in the flesh."

Horrified at the prospect, Harry felt his stomach twist in
revulsion. "Flesh?"

"Oh, it isn't all that bad," Jesus chided. "There are millions of
people living that way right now."

"Yeah, but they're used to it! You're used to so much better."

"But it's the only way it can get done."

"What?" Harry screwed up his face. "What would be so important
that you'd have to do all that?"
______________________________

The Son looked into Harry's eyes in a penetrating way that the
angel had never before experienced, and said, "Their redemption.
It's time for me to go down to earth and fulfill the law We
established long ago."

Becoming transfixed by the Presence, and The Son's willingness to
sacrifice His own comfort, Harry said in a hushed tone, "But, in
person? Couldn't you do it from up here?"

The Son moved toward a corner and a small, crude stool appeared.
He sat down, rested his chin in his hand, and said, "There was a
time, long ago, when We considered that. But you know, Harry,
these people need a Savior. They really do. They need someone
they can see with their own eyes, whose voice and words they can
hear for themselves--and they need someone they can touch, and
feel is really there with them."

Having never been assigned to earth, Harry's experience with
humans was strictly secondhand, but he was beginning to
understand how, because of the type of beings they were, they
might appreciate God meeting them on their own level. He turned
to The Son and said, "They need a 'Jesus'."

"It's the best way to show them God's love," Jesus said. "Put Him
into flesh."

Harry stared out the newly formed window, gazing into the more
familiar brilliance that enveloped the tiny hovel. "Okay, I think
I can see this," he said. "But one thing--and please, Jesus, I
don't mean any disrespect--are these the right people? Is this
the right time? As I understand it, the world's a pretty small
place right now, and these people have a lot to learn. Things are
fairly primitive down there."

"It was worked out long ago, Harry. Now's the time."

"But is it necessary to give all this up--the throne, the
grandeur, the glory--to go where people live like this?"

The Son answered with a sigh. "It's a small thing, really, to
give up my glory for a little while, so that so many others might
have it for eternity."

"But Jesus," Harry said seriously, "you'll be losing who you
are--your identity."

"No, I'm not losing it. Just setting it aside for awhile. I'll
still be God, only now--for a little while--I'll also be man."

"Sounds complicated," Harry said, screwing up his face.

"Yes, I suppose it is," Jesus said, rising from the stool. "But
nobody ever said it would be easy to save all of mankind."
______________________________

The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me,
Because the Lord has anointed me
To bring good news to the afflicted;
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
To proclaim liberty to captives
And freedom to prisoners;
To proclaim the favorable year of the Lord...
Isaiah 61:1-2a

(to be continued...)

____________________
Copyright 2011, David S. Lampel. All rights reserved.
Reflections: #0528
Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture is from the
New American Standard Bible (Updated Edition).
This and earlier issues of Reflections by the Pond
may be read and/or downloaded at our web site
at http://dlampel.com

Reflections by the Pond: November 28, 2011 (text)

2011-11-28T11:50:09Z

REFLECTIONS BY THE POND
November 28, 2011

SEPARATED

I have lost count of the times I have scratched my head and
wondered aloud, "Why, God, did you leave me in this awful flesh?
Either bring me home, or purify whatever is left, but why leave
me wrapped in this weak, easily tempted, straying, miserable
flesh?!"

By the reasoning of our flesh, God's design to leave His
children, with the indwelling Holy Spirit, to do battle the rest
of their earthly days with their earth-bound self seems wholly
illogical. After all, couldn't we accomplish so much more in His
name if we weren't so often sidetracked or tripped up by our
fleshly weaknesses?

On occasion, however, we are favored with a glimmer of His
reasoning, which, when all is said and done, is the only
reasoning that matters.
______________________________

At the end of last week something crawled inside me and died.
Coughing, sneezing, runny nose, muscle aches, headaches, feverish
chills--all combined to leave me feeling like something one would
scrape off the bottom of one's shoe. Dog meat. Worthless. Limp as
a week-old mackerel. Part and parcel of this condition is a
general sense of lethargy and ennui. The mind no longer
operates--as if every bit of gray matter between the ears has
been removed and replaced with a wad of soggy cotton.

In this state the mind and body drift aimlessly, meaningful
thought or activity seem hopelessly out of reach. Even the prayer
closet seems to be encased in lead; stringing together words for
a coherent sentence becomes sweat-inducing labor, and we wonder
if God is still up there somewhere. We are numb. Detached.
Isolated.

Bingo.
______________________________

Behold, the Lord's hand is not so short
That it cannot save;
Nor is His ear so dull
That it cannot hear.
But your iniquities have made a separation
between you and your God,
And your sins have hidden His face from you so that
He does not hear.
Isaiah 59:1-2

Father God likes to make His point with illustration--Jesus did
it all the time. And here is just one reason He may have left us
with this nagging reminder of our previous life--this despicable,
uncomfortable flesh.

Sitting in one's prayer closet, struggling to piece together a
coherent thought with a mind wrapped in cotton wool and a cold
virus coursing through one's veins. Cease striving and listen.
Listen closely. With His patient, quiet voice the Lord speaks:

Do you see, My child? Do you understand now? This is what life
is like for those without Me. At best, they struggle to
understand Me, but to no avail. At worst, they are numb to My
glories.

But My child, this is also what it feels like when you disobey
Me, when you turn away from Me. When rebellion, like a virus,
takes over, it insulates you from Me. I have not moved. I am
still where I always have been. But sin in your life clouds
your thoughts, leaves you listless, impotent.

Sin removes the vocabulary of our communion, child.
______________________________

And so I will give thanks for this passing illness, for it has
illustrated with painful clarity the price of disobedience.

____________________
Copyright 2011, David S. Lampel. All rights reserved.
Reflections: #0527
Unless otherwise indicated, all Scripture is from the
New American Standard Bible (Updated Edition).
This and earlier issues of Reflections by the Pond
may be read and/or downloaded at our web site
at http://dlampel.com