Delayed Flight

The airport is rushed, busy, and slow this morning. It seems that ours wasn't the only flight canceled late last night in Denver. The check-in line filled the entire lobby, with agents at all kiosks.

Before coming back to the airport after a very long night of waiting for a delayed flight, sitting on the runway under a blanket of falling snow, standing in line for new flight arrangements and service vouchers, I did enjoy a leisurely breakfast at the airline's expense. And as I ate, I read, "for you are all sons of light and sons of day. We are not of night nor of darkness; so then let us not sleep as others do, but let us be alert and sober. For those who sleep do their sleeping at night...." (1 Thessalonians 5:5-7).

I was reminded of the many people I waited with on and off the runway last night, stood in line with, and smooshed into a taxi with (there were 5 of us, plus the driver!). Some were angry, most were frustrated; our destinations and places of origin varied; we had differing resources at our disposal. But the one thing we had in common was that we were tired. I was not the only one to arrive at a hotel at 4:30a.m. We were people of the night, people with a natural desire and tendency to rest our minds and bodies.

On a spiritual note, without the illuminating work of the Holy Spirit, accessed through faith in Jesus Christ's work on my behalf, I am a person of the night. My vision is impaired, my needs are immediate and demanding, my primary concern is comfort. Under the supernatural empowering of God, by His Spirit, however, I am called to be alert and self-controlled, to see beyond the immediate perceived needs--not just because they exist, but because, by faith, I can move forward with confidence. The context of the passage is the return of the Lord--the comfort and encouragement we can have in His coming, the way in which my life will be lived differently in light of His imminent return.

The next leg of my new flight is imminent, the boarding is nearly in progress. And I am a child of the day, a child with hope, purpose, and a loving Creator who goes before me to offer His vigilance and self-control (mine was depleted many hours ago). To Him be the honor and glory, forever and ever. Amen.

This Temple

As we entered the holy week, I began a new chapter in my Bible study on bodily stewardship. The opening question directed me to brainstorm about the temple: holy, sacrifices, worship, giving, confession, repentance, purity, forgiveness, house of prayer, the dwelling place of God.

I don't know about you, but the very idea of the temple and the presence of God is awe-inspiring. I can only imagine what it would have been like to go daily for prayer, to offer sacrifices regularly, to live and breathe these acts of worship. Like any awesome thing, however, it became mundane to some, a drudgery to others (see the book of Malachi). But to think of all it represented from our timestream here in the future is moving.

The Bible study didn't stop there. In bringing to mind the temple--what we know and may not know about the intricacies revealed in the Old Testament--the point was being made that, as believers in Jesus Christ, we are His temple. That my body, this physical vessel, has become the dwelling of God Almighty.

It was Monday of this week as I did the study and the picture of Jesus in the temple, during the holy week, came to mind. I began to wonder how that same Jesus must react to dwelling in my body, in my affections, in my mind and will. Is this not the same Jesus who drove out moneychangers and overturned tables? Is He not the one who cried out against the robber's den that should be a house of prayer? It was at this point that I begged Him to remove the moneychangers from my heart--those desires and that selfishness that mock Him daily. To take this heart that is so often a den of robbers and make it a house of prayer. Many times this week I have had to stop and ask Him to do a cleansing work, once again, in this humble temple.

The Scripture continues in Matthew 21. "And the blind and the lame came to Him in the temple, and He healed them." My prayer: that I may, in all ways and at all times, come to Him blind and lame for His perfect healing. That I may remember His deity and sovereignty and recognize His lordship in this frail vessel He inhabits.

Perhaps He does not dwell in you and you are not His temple. See early posts from this blog for a fuller understanding of God's great love for you.

He is risen.

I Want It!

I want it. I can taste the wanting. I can envision the having. The having siphons freedom, self-control, dignity, and achievement from my thoughts to reality. It feels like fresh spring air blowing around my face, across my arms, around and through--but never binding.

It is not a bad thing, this thing I want. In fact, it is a good thing. It is a thing that I sincerely believe God wants for me. The end result is pleasing to Him--could be pleasing to Him. But I have not attained it. Cannot attain it. I have talked to God about my desire and asked for His help. I continue to fail.

Then, in reading through Proverbs, I came across these verses:
"The sacrifice of the wicked is an abomination to the LORD, But the prayer of the upright is His delight. The way of the wicked is an abomination to the LORD, But He loves one who pursues righteousness. " (Proverbs 15:8-9).

In the Old Testament, bringing sacrifices was a good thing. By bringing a sacrifice to the temple, an individual acknowledged his sin and the need for God's atonement. Offering a sacrifice was good. It was also expensive...and public.

Prayer, too, was a good thing. Prayer continues to be an act of dependence on God, but is perhaps "inferior" to sacrifices as it can be done privately, without public confession, and costs very little.

The wicked may act biblically. The upright do the same, but often privately. God's pleasure, then, is not dependent on the action but on the heart attitude. The righteous acts of the wicked are detestable; the righteous acts of the upright are delightful. In God's system, one's spiritual condition is more important than one's spiritual activity. It is the pursuit of righteousness that God blesses, not the pursuit of appearance or participation.

What does this have to do with my want? My want falls far short of seeking God Himself. To seek a specific outcome is to miss the Author. It would be like sharing a meal in a palace and so wanting to have good manners that I fail to respond to the king except in matters of etiquette. What a travesty! I would have missed the purpose, the blessing, and the reward of a priceless time. This week, then, I have been reflecting on what I really want. Am I pursuing righteousness? Am I pursing God Himself? Or something less?