Seeznak

The Mighty Mountain and The Little Hill

O mountain of God, mountain of Bashan;

   O many-peaked mountain, mountain of Bashan!

Why do you look with hatred, O many-peaked mountain,

    at the mount that God desired for his abode,

    yes, where the Lord will dwell forever?

-Psalm 68:15-16

The mountain(s) of Bashan, usually meaning the entire range but here, with the singular ‘mountain’ probably refers to Mt. Hermon’s ridge, at its highest point, stands 9230 feet above sea level.

The ‘mount that God desired for his abode’, Mt. Zion, rising up amidst Jerusalem, is a mere 2533 feet in elevation. Considered with Jerusalem’s average elevation of 2400 feet, the little hill does little to pontificate grandeur:

Nevertheless, God chose this little hill to be the place in which He would meet with His people. The contrast between these two mountains, and the choice of Zion as the more, shall we say, worthy of the two, is yet another example of God’s joy in baffling our human expectations.

It should cause little wonder that Psalm 68’s ode to the Lord’s victory, just two verses later, is quoted by Paul in a discussion of Christ’s spiritual gifts to His church-

When he ascended on high he led a host of captives,

   and he gave gifts to men.

-Eph. 4:8 (quoting Ps. 68:18)

These gifts to us are the spoils of victory, which Jesus won for us at the cost of His life. These are worthy, effective, and purposeful gifts given to build up the church to unity (see 4:11-13). The “measure of Christ’s gift” (4:7) to us often seems to follow the same ironic logic of God’s mountain-measuring stick - what is little in our eyes is much in God’s; what is weak is strong; what is put to death brings life.

Let us worship God for His strange and never-seasonal Christmas-spirit to us, the blest inhabitants of little Zion:

That He has blessed us (Eph. 1:3)

That He has chosen us (1:4)

That He predestined to do adopt us (1:5)

That He lavished grace upon us (1:8)

That He made known to us this mystery (1:9)

That He has obtained an inheritance for us (1:11)

That He loved us with a great love (2:4)

That He made us alive with Christ (2:5)

That He seated us besides Christ as royal children (2:6)

That He created us in Christ for good works (2:10)

That He has allowed us access to Himself through Christ (2:18)

That He is building us into His dwelling place (2:22)

That He has given grace to each of us according to His mysterious measurements (4:7)

Whose Right?

Ten-year old Ashley, born with cerebral palsy, is 4′5″, and 63 pounds- and she’s done growing. Her parents made the decision two years ago to submit her to a treatment which included a hystorectomy, breast surgery, and drugs to stop her growth into adulthood. Today, the “Ashley treatment” is considered by her parents to be a success. Her height and weight will remain the same, and she will never experience menstrual cramps or develop sexually. The treatment neither fixes her condition, nor physically does anything to improve it; and whether this will benefit her or her caretakers the most is debatable.

Never mind that the treatment was (and is) illegal; CNN.com reports that Ashley’s parents have stated, “If parents of children like Ashley believe this treatment will improve their children’s quality of life, then they should be diligent and tenacious in providing it for them. We have a sacred duty to do what we believe is right for our children.”

Ashley, and other children like her, are incapable of making their own decisions, and depend entirely on the assistance of others to accomplish even the most basic functions. Children like Ashley do not talk, walk, or consume any food that doesn’t come through a tube. So they are, as they must and should be, completely under the authority of their parents. But when it comes to making individual decisions, what makes a decision the right one?

For Ashley’s parents, the standard for “rightness” was their belief that their decision improved their child’s quality of life.

But is it right to deprive a human being of the ability to experience growth into adulthood, as different as that adulthood might be from what is considered ‘normal’? “We have a sacred duty to do what we believe is right for our children.” From what source does this ‘sacred duty’ stem? Is it the same source as (what some might claim to be) Ashley’s sacred right to experience the natural course of her life?

Such bioethical questions are far from being black and white, and even the gray shades are turning into a very tempting rainbow of alluring choices. Should we clone humans or harvest embryos for spare body parts? My answer is an emphatic no. But how about Ashley? Her “worst enemies” are height and weight, and, as she will retain the physical and mental capacities of a six-month-old, she will have no need to experience the menstrual cycle. Does this make it right for parents and doctors to toy with her God-given body? What about tampering with the DNA of an unborn child to remove a tendency for cancer? How about electronic implants? Chemical altering pills? Aspirin?

The parents’ defense of their decision, and unfortunately many of my own, echo the assessment of the author of the book of Judges on the state of rebellious Israel: “Everyone did what right in his own eyes.”

Prair song

As of this moment, I’m not sure when our little baby is going to be born, where we are going to be living in five weeks, where I am going to work, what classes I’m going to be taking, or even how much my schooling will cost.

So, because I know that Jesus is looking out for us with His invisible but sure hand, and, not really knowing what else to do, I wrote a little ditty.

-

When life beats with perplexity

On our bedroom door,

We should go on our knees, you see;

That is what they’re for.

On Psalm 96

Read Psalm 96, and note how these words sit quietly amid the many famous lines of praise: fear (4b), tremble (9b), judge (10c, 13).

When God sets things right (i.e, when He judges), it is a cause for rejoicing, since all becomes as it should be, and we should be prone to remember that it was God’s wrathful judgment upon Jesus in our place that set us right with God.

Thus,

- We glory in the Cross.

- We continue to fear God for His supremacy over us, and for the greatness of His wrath against Jesus on account of our sin.

- We no longer have any fear of God’s judgment against us, for the perfections of Christ are ours by right.

Walking to Emmaus

by Fritz von Uhde

Note the bowed heads and the short steps; these listeners who do not realize how focused they are. Note also the gentle power of the deep greens, possibly emphasizing the life-giving nature of Jesus’ words. I had always pictured the walk to Emmaus as dry and dusty, but now von Uhde has given me a fresh sense of mystery surrounding this short but magical event. See Luke 24:13-35.

Pondering Isaiah 63 (II)

How is God saving (v. 1) or redeeming (v. 4) in Isaiah 63:1-4?

The only answer I can find is in 63:5-

“I [God] looked, but there was no one to help;

    I was appalled, but there was no one to uphold;

So my own arm brought me salvation,

    and my wrath upheld me.”

Both the answer and the mystery of this passage is that God is bringing salvation to Himself! Read the last two lines of v. 5 again- So my own arm brought me salvation, and my wrath upheld me. What is in need of saving is God’s purity and holiness. God has been violated by His own chosen people, who give verbal assent to God while speeding down a freeway of desolation. God cannot stand by while evil reigns; His anger is aroused and He rises up to defend that which is most precious in the cosmos: His own majesty.

These verses demand every reader to stand in awe of God’s holiness, but there is more to it than a defensive judgment of sin. Trampling the people’s lifeblood in the winepress of God’s wrath produces something, and that something, curiously enough, is something often associated with a blessing- wine.

Since there was no one else to defend God’s holiness, God Himself came forward to save, and in this we find echoes of the Cross, wherein God became both just and the justifier, producing an overflow of blessing which we, through faith, receive.

The connection between God saving His own holiness and thereby saving His people is confirmed by verses 7-14, in which a song is sung of God’s great compassion toward Israel.

Rejoice, O Rejoice, that God despises sin; for if He didn’t, we would have never seen a Saviour.

Pondering Isaiah 63 (I)

Who is this who comes from Edom,

     in crimsoned garments from Bozrah,

he who is splendid in his apparel,

     marching in the greatness of his strength?

“It is I, speaking in righteousness,

     mighty to save.”

-Isaiah 63:1

The Lord brought down His hand of discipline on the people of Israel through the Edomites, a distantly related tribe living southeast of Judah. This passage from Isaiah makes it clear that it was indeed God’s work, but what made this passage jump off the page into the bottom of my stomach was what God said as He came: “It is I, speaking in righteousness, mighty to save.”

Mighty to save?

To save whom? Or what? Isaiah seems to have a similar question, because, after hearing the salvific words of the Lord in v. 3, he doesn’t grasp how God could be both mighty to save and covered with the blood of His people. God replies:

“I have trodden the winepress alone,

    and from the peoples no one was with me;

I trod them in my anger

    and trampled them in my wrath;

their lifeblood spattered on my garments,

    and stained all my apparel.

For the day of vengeance was in my heart,

    And my year of redemption had come.      (vv. 3-4)

Again, God’s wrath and redemption are mingled. There are two clues, I believe, to help us in understanding how this passage can be sweet to our souls, and these clues are in verse 5 and verses 7-14. Read those passages, and as we wrestle with this Word, we will see God as both more holy and more loving.

To Christin

I had a moment of bliss this morning

as you turned upon your pregnant hinge

and the blanket was tucked a little further

under your chin.

What I saw I shall not soon forget,

but hope (and expect) to see it again

as I have seen it before: the gentle curves

of your face.

It’s a morning routine of late, to stop

on my way to shower, or to brush my teeth,

in the doorway and stare for a moment

as you rest.

Sometimes it’s a glance, at other times

I rest my cheek against the frame

of our bedroom door and listen for the rise and fall

of your breath.

Sometimes I do not remember that you

are carrying our little dear; there’s too much peace

and beauty (in contrast to things we’ve heard)

on your brow.

But I never misremember for long;

for our marriage is our family, and our family

is you and I and Micaiah, so I thank God

for your soul.

To Christin

6/18/08