Salt...

*On 01/30/09 I was asked to give a short message on salt during our shabat service as it had become a recurring theme in our travels. This is the gist of what God showed me.*

In Matthew 5:13, we read that we are the salt of the earth. It is not something that we are becoming, it is our already identity. But Jesus brings up the point of usefulness. If we are not bringing flavor to an otherwise bland world, what use are we? He makes the assertion that salt that has lost its seasoning is “good for nothing.” This tells us that we are meant to be good for something.

To discover that something, we have to consider what seasoning is being referred to by Jesus. While many things contain salt, I know of nothing that can be substituted for salt. If a dish needs salt, there is nothing comparable. That means that salt has a distinct flavor – a unique taste, however common.

So what is the taste of a Christian? What is the essential flavor of God? What is this Kingdom seasoned with? What occurs to me is grace. Splendid, redeeming grace. It adds to life the taste of love and freedom. I think it is also the taste of vibrant, abundant life. Life lived, not wasted. A believer should add a dash of life and grace to any situation.

But what happens when we refuse to do this? Jesus says the only good we can do is to be trampled upon by men. The only context I know of men walking on salt is slick and snowy paths. But we were meant to do more than keep society from slipping. Salt is known for its flavor, not its texture. Flavor is the dynamic property of salt.

So what are we good for? Are we just keeping the people around us from slipping? Or are we giving them a taste of God, whetting their appetite with the life and grace that form the flavor of the Kingdom. My prayer is that we will season this world with God’s love.

Planted by the Wadi...

*Taken from my journal on 01/29/09 after seeing an example of a plant in the desert that has tapped into a hidden source of water.*

Out in the desert today, marveling at the few green plants in a particularly dry area, we talked about Psalm 1. We are told that the man who:

1. Walks not in the counsel of the wicked
2. Nor stands in the way of sinners
3. Nor sits in the seat of scoffers
4. But his delight is in the law of the Lord
5. And in His law he meditates day and night

We are told that this man is “like a tree planted by streams of water” or “like a tree planted by the wadi.”

A wadi is a place in the desert where there is a hidden source of water beneath the ground of otherwise dry riverbed. The believer who avoids the constant company of the irreverent and who delights in God’s law and meditates on it constantly is like a tree with a hidden source of water in a dry and barren place.

This has huge implications for seasons of dryness. While it is true that trials come in life which test our faith, we have to remember that we have a hidden source. Though outwardly it may seem that we should be parched, worn out and our life should be failing, we are able to remain ever green.

It is a strange sight to see one green plant in the midst, not only of barren earth, but also of other plants that have dried out and died. To see those withered bushes, my main thought was: “if only they could have pushed a little deeper; the water was there; they could have survived; they just didn’t reach deep enough.”

How frequently can that be said of us? We complain of fatigue, of dryness, of heaviness. But how often do we really cast our cares upon Him? How often do we really allow the Word to wash us? What a waste of such a precious resource.

I know the world is dry around you, but don’t give up. There is fresh, cool water – there is refreshing for you. Just push a little deeper. Drop your roots into the wadi… and live.

Responding like Peter...

*Taken from my journal on 01/27/09 after visiting the house in Joppa where Peter had the vision of eating unclean animals and from this received a call to minister to Gentiles. Years beforehand, from this same port, Jonah tried to refuse a similarly challenging call by sailing away from it.*

To respond as Peter did when given a challenging assignment from the Lord – something to aim for. So often I am instantaneously consumed by all of the obstacles, the reasons something can’t be done. Although Peter did voice his complaints before God, he didn’t demand clear answers.

The call represented a reversal of everything he knew about serving God in holiness.

The answers given were in no way adequate to the size of the shift that this constituted.

But without clear answers and with only the smile of God, his heart was satisfied to again step out on new waters. It shows an understanding that God is living. He is not tame and His will in beyond what we can understand.

The willingness to move with a moving God…

What Facing a Giant Feels Like...

*Taken from my journal on 01/26/09 after a trip to the Valley of Elah where David killed Goliath.*

I wonder what David must have felt that day, if the wind was in his hair, if the birds had fled from battle…

I wonder where the giant stood on the hill. At the foot? A few feet up? I wonder how cold the water felt on David’s hands, if the thought occurred to him that this may be the last time he felt water…

I wonder if the thought of losing ever occurred to him. It doesn’t seem to have. I wonder if other things grew still in his mind; if he breathed deeply. I wonder if he was afraid.

All heroism aside, he was just a kid. And this was no lion or bear. I wonder what song he had been singing that morning; what psalm gave him so much courage?

The Birth of a Voice...

*Taken from my journal on 01/25/09 after visiting the place where John the Baptist was born. The stone ceiling that originally covered the home of Elizabeth and Zacharias is still visible, just as it would have been 2,000 years ago.*

The birth of a voice.

Under a bare stone ceiling, a baby cries. The first of many times that this voice will cry out in dry places. I wonder if the stone recognized the call, if the wilderness anticipated the coming glory…

He was no mere echo. His voice was thunder.

After four hundred years of prophetic silence, a voice.

A voice asking no preparation for itself. A voice that demanded no special hospitality.

A messenger of humble humanity, a voice of one demand:

Prepare the way of the Lord.

He was not the speaker, just the voice. And like a trumpet at the mouth of a master, through his availability, a clarion call went forth.

It echoes still.

God is coming to you, humanity. But prepare the way for Him. Repent, be baptized.

A call to consecration for the coming of the Lord.

A voice was born in this very place. The voice of one crying… began here.

The Commandment We've Forgotten...

*Taken from my journal on 01/24/09. From Friday at around 4pm until the same time on Saturday, the entire Jewish quarter of Jerusalem becomes a ghost town. To help us understand the rhythm of the city (and to give us time to recuperate), we stay on the compound and take 24 hours of rest just as they do.*

It is interesting to get acquainted with the rhythm of Israel. In the States, we seem to have the mentality that the more we run, the more we will get accomplished. But after a long first week (albeit an amazing one) the sudden stop made all the difference.

While the concept of a weekly Sabbath seems lost on the greater Christian community, I don’t think that it’s something that God meant for us to do without.

After a week’s hard work, a day of reflection and rejuvenation is like the calm in the eye of the storm. It seems that life just flies by us most of the time. A moment to pause and capture what we so easily lose track of is of monumental importance in the believer’s life.

Keep the Sabbath holy… right up there with no murder, adultery or idolatry. I think God means business on this one.

It is a sort of admission that we'll never get everything done. And also a reminder to ourselves that the things which we can accomplish mean nothing if God is not at the center of our lives.

Thank God for Shabat.

Returning from Mount Bental...

*Taken from my journal on 01/22/09 as we were driving home from the overlook at Mount Bental. Words will really do no justice to the sight of the Sea of Galilee encircled with mountains.*

Have you ever read ‘The Weight of Glory’ by C.S. Lewis? He speaks of the glory we see in creation: the beauty, the splendor. But as breathtaking as it is, it’s not enough just to see or even touch or taste. There’s that secret desire in each of us to be pulled in; to somehow become a part, to be joined to the majesty we see. Beauty elevates.

That’s what it’s like in Israel.

This land is amazing. It strikes the heart with wonder. There’s something here. And you just want to become a part of it.

There’s this desire I can’t explain to just melt into this land; to sink in and be sunk into; to fall into this land.

I never before understood how a nation, a people, a land and a religion could all share the same word. What does the land have to do with the covenant people?

But here, where the land meets the mountains and the mountains meet the sea and the setting sun blankets them all in brilliant gold, I begin to understand.

The beauty, the majesty…

But there’s even more.

This land lives. Every inch of it breathes and speaks. There’s a life in these lands so saturated, so deep, so sweet. You want to taste it, breathe it.

I want to lay in that green grass, between the rocks and the water, and gaze upon these great skies, rising to see the sea and the mountain shadows crowning the horizon.

You want to linger here.

Life can be somewhat sleepy and gray. Somtimes we half-live. Here all is deep and rich. Milk and honey indeed…

This land lives… And, in it, so do we…

There’s no question here. You’re in it. You’re living. You’re here.

Man fully alive.

Oh, Israel.