Heart-Hospitality

Since our recent observance of Pentecost Sunday, I’ve been thinking about the Holy Spirit... I hope you have been, too.

I had a conversation with two Jehovah’s Witnesses some years ago, and of all their comments, the saddest I recall was their assertion that the Holy Spirit is a vague “force” emanating from the Father. Not a “He” but an “it.” Not a Person but an ethereal presence of some kind... How glad I am for the Christian theology written into the hymn “Holy, Holy, Holy” (sing it with special gusto next time!): “God in three Persons, blessed Trinity.” I am blessed when I think about the Person of the Holy Spirit.

This puts some responsibility on me, though. If God’s Spirit were just a nebulous force of some sort, I assume I wouldn’t need to worry about how to relate to “it.” But the fact that He is a Person makes it a whole different matter. For one thing, how must He feel about living inside of me? I’m sure I haven’t always made it a pleasant experience for Him. He’s seen more than enough of my doubts. He’s been ignored and manipulated and argued with and taken for granted. He’s lived with the garbage of my life (when I haven’t bothered to “take out the trash”) and been subjected to my choices of input – what I read, watch, hear...

After reading C&MA founder A.B. Simpson’s book, The Gentle Love of the Holy Spirit, some years ago, I’ve come to think of life with the Spirit in terms of hospitality - and Simpson writes some convicting things about heart-hospitality. Here are a few excerpts:

“This is the only way that we can receive a person – by treating him with confidence, believing that he comes to us in sincerity and, opening the door to him at once, recognize him as a friend and treat him as a welcome guest. So let us treat the Holy Spirit.”

“The Holy Spirit is especially sensitive to the reception He finds in the human heart; never intruding as an unwelcome guest, but gladly entering every open door...”

“The heart in which He loves to dwell is a quiet one, where the voice of [selfish desires] and the world’s loud tumult is stilled, and His whisper is watched for with delight and attention.”

Simpson was intimately acquainted with the Person of the Holy Spirit – because he cultivated a heart in which the Spirit loved to dwell. What about me? Am I a suspicious and controlling host – or a sensitive and attentive one? What living conditions do I offer Him? How do my choices affect Him?

Matters of heart-hospitality...worth thinking about.

I Do NOT Forget

In a few days we’ll observe Memorial Day – a day to remember those who have died in the service of our country. It’s all too easy to forget them and their sacrifice, which is what led Sylvia Mohr to write to www.usmemorialday.org:

“This weekend I am going to do something different. I am going to buy some carnations each day and go to one of the nearby cemeteries and walk through the sections for soldiers. When I find a grave that has no flowers, I'll leave one and say a prayer for the family of that person, who for some reason could not bring their soldier flowers. I will pray for our country and all who serve or have served. For their families, who also serve by losing precious days, weeks and months spent with their loved ones who are off serving, preserving peace and the freedom we have in this country. I'll pray for the families who paid the ultimate price, whose loved ones died, or were taken captive and never returned. I'll pray for anyone who may still be held in captivity and thinks perhaps they are forgotten. I do NOT forget...”

There’s another group of veterans who sacrificed their lives in the service of a country they had not yet seen. Hebrews 11 lists many heroes of the faith – Abraham, who, like a good soldier, “when called to go... obeyed and went, even though he did not know where he was going.” And after him came an innumerable host who “through faith conquered kingdoms, administered justice...escaped the edge of the sword;
whose weakness was turned to strength; and who became powerful in battle and routed foreign armies.” Other heroes were tortured and refused to be released... faced jeers and flogging...were chained and put in prison...went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated – the world was not worthy of them.”

No, the world was not worthy of them. So on Memorial Day, remember not only the heroes of America, but the heroes of our faith. We can’t plant flowers on their graves or visit a memorial in their honor...but we can revisit Hebrews 11 and think about their vital contribution to our spiritual heritage. We can find a few quiet moments to spend in prayer, thanking God for the faith and courageous example of these men and women. We can pick up a biography of a Christian martyr or begin a Bible study on one of Hebrews’ heroes.

How blessed we are to be surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses! How privileged to have the opportunity to follow in the footsteps of these who lived and died for a better country – a heavenly one - so that it can be said of us, too, “Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.”

This Memorial Day, “I do NOT forget.”

This Isn't Goodbye

May 20, Ascension Sunday, is the day on which many Christians observe Christ’s ascension into heaven following His death, burial, and resurrection.

What must the disciples have thought? One moment Jesus was speaking to them, and the next He was being taken up into heaven, enveloped by a cloud, and gone from their view. While the men struggled to process what was happening, two angels appeared beside them, asking, “Why do you stand here looking into the sky? This same Jesus, who has been taken from you into heaven, will come back in the same way you have seen him go into heaven” (Acts 1:11 NIV).

Ah, yes. “I go to prepare a place for you... I will come back and take you to be where I am...”

So it’s not over.
This isn’t goodbye.
And the best is yet to come.

I think it must have gone a little like Sheldon Vanauken recorded in A Severe Mercy, of meeting with C.S. Lewis:

“On that last day I met C.S. Lewis at the Eastgate for lunch. We talked, I recall, about death or, rather, awakening after death... I said it would be a sort of coming home, and he agreed. Lewis said that he hoped Davy and I would be coming back to England soon, for we mustn’t get out of touch. ‘At all events,’ he said with a cheerful grin, “We’ll certainly meet again, here – or there.’ Then it was time to go...

When we emerged onto the busy High with the traffic streaming past, we shook hands, and he said, ‘I shan’t say goodbye. We’ll meet again.’ Then he plunged into the traffic. I stood there watching him. When he reached the pavement on the other side, he turned round as though he knew somehow that I would still be there in front of the Eastgate. Then he raised his voice in a great roar that easily overcame the noise of the cars and buses. Heads turned and at least one car swerved. ‘Besides,’ he bellowed with a great grin, ‘Christians NEVER say goodbye!’

I like to remember that on Ascension Sunday. Jesus never said a last goodbye – because He’s coming back! Meanwhile, His Spirit waits with us for that awesome day when the shout goes out:

Behold, He comes!
Riding on the clouds,
Shining like the sun,
At the trumpet call;
Lift your voice,
It’s the Year of Jubilee,
And out of Zion’s Hill
Salvation comes!

Asking the Right Question

I returned yesterday from a trip to Alabama, where I was reminded of the Booker T. Washington biography I read recently. That famous black American came out of slavery to found Alabama’s famous Tuskegee Institute for the purpose of educating blacks and preparing them for a life of vital contribution to society.

Booker T. used to state his philosophy through a simple illustration:

“A ship lost at sea for many days suddenly sighted a friendly vessel. From the mast of the unfortunate vessel was seen a signal: “Water, water. We die of thirst.” The answer from the friendly vessel at once came back: “Cast down your bucket where you are.” A second time, the signal, “Water, send us water!” went up from the distressed vessel. And was answered: “Cast down your bucket where you are.” A third and fourth signal for water was answered: “Cast down your bucket where you are.” The captain of the distressed vessel, at last heeding the injunction, cast down his bucket and it came up full of fresh, sparkling water from the mouth of the Amazon River.”

Some years later, George Washington Carver, a teacher at Tuskegee Institute would “let down his bucket” as the Southern cotton crop lay ravaged by the boll weevil. He knew about the peanut and its suitability for Southern soil, but how could it be made a useful crop?

Paul Thigpen, in No Royal Road for Wisdom, records that:
"God's Little Workshop" was the name of George Washington Carver's busy lab, where the famous scientist pursued his quest for learning. According to his own account, it was there that he asked in prayer to discover the uses of what was then a lowly, unesteemed crop: the peanut.
Dear Mr. Creator," the humble man began, "please tell me what the universe was made for?"
"Ask for something more in keeping with that little mind of yours," God answered. So Mr. Carver tried again.
"Dear Mr. Creator, what was man made for?"
Again the Lord replied, "Little man, you ask too much. Cut down the extent of your request and improve the intent." So the scientist tried once more.
"Then Mr. Creator, will you tell me why the peanut was made?"
"That's better," the Lord said, and beginning that day Carver discovered over three hundred uses for the lowly peanut.

It’s easy, isn’t it, to believe, like those men dying of thirst, that we need to import a miracle or be transported to better accommodations - when maybe all we need is the conversation with God that Carver had. Once God gets us asking the right question, I think the answers will open up an abundance around us that is both astonishing and life-giving.

Let’s start asking!

Climb Higher

The other day I turned on the radio just in time to hear Dr. David Jeremiah illustrate his sermon on worry:

In the earlier days of aviation, a pilot had touched down at an airstrip to replenish his supplies and fuel, and then continued on his journey. Several hours into the flight, he heard a noise like that of a rat chewing on something, and surmised that during his last stop, it had somehow gotten on board. He couldn’t see it, but he could imagine it chewing on the vital wires that led to the instrument panel.

What could he do? There was no going back, because it was as far back as it was to the next airport. Then he remembered something. Rats are rodents. And rodents are ground creatures – they can’t tolerate high altitudes. With that, he immediately pointed his plane upward and began climbing higher, higher, until he was many, many thousand feet in the air... and the gnawing sound had ceased. He arrived safely at his next destination, and upon searching the plane he found, sure enough, the dead rat.

Worry is a rat. It will eat away at our insides and threaten to sever the connections of peace and trust – but it can’t stand the altitude of faith. If we determine to live our lives on a higher plane, worry will not survive.

Is there a disturbing gnawing sound in your life? Consider these Scriptures:

“You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in you” (Isaiah 26:3 NIV).
“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Phil. 4:6-7 NIV).

When His peace in you is disturbed, it’s time to suspect a rat on board. It’s time to head for higher ground.

My heart has no desire to stay
Where doubts arise and fears dismay;
While some may dwell where these abound,
My prayer, my aim is higher ground. -Johnson Oatman, Jr.