Unhindered Light

It’s raining now; beautiful, gentle rain. The sun is pushing its way through, creating ribbons of white-edged clouds with silver-gray linings. A glorious day, to be sure and one I am so thankful to be a part of; one wherein the glory of the Lord cannot be hidden. Droplets hang on the bare branches of a December afternoon. Not wishing to let go just yet, they carry the sun’s ray as though it were a treasure to be captured and enjoyed. Just so, I am captivated by the powerful light of the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me. I am filled with a longing that won’t let go; a longing for others to know the tidings of comfort and joy that Christ brings; the tidings of Christmas. 

I was reminded, today, of Amy Carmichael’s words:

Love through me love of God

Make me like Thy clear air

Through which unhindered colours pass

As though it were not there.

"Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works,

 and glorify your Father who is in heaven.” 

(Matthew 5:16)

Don't lose heart

I appreciated Pastor Pernell's message on Sunday, from the book of Nehemiah. I’ve created my own little summary here. If you have a vision from God, (and I don't mean hearing voices and seeing ghosts- I mean an idea worth pursuing), then be sure the following 3 things, (from Nehemiah 4), will keep you from being discouraged:

Prayer  "Hear us, O our God…" Let the Lord have His way, in your life and in the life of those who would disagree.

Providence  "Remember the Lord, who is great and awesome..." God is always faithful. If the vision is truly from Him, He will provide a way. Oftentimes, He will use those who disagree, to incline our hearts to recall that His glory is the ultimate goal.

Planning   "From that day on, half of my men did the work, while the other half were equipped with spears, shields, bows, and armour…" Nehemiah had everyone up on the wall and then realized they needed protection. Sometimes the plan has to change, but the vision remains.

And I went on to consider the following:
There will always be detractors; those who don’t come on board with what you truly believe is from God. I wouldn’t dismiss them entirely- they deserve a hearing because, if they are your church members, then they have something to say. And sometimes, their dissension can mean changes in the plan or reshaping of the vision, but one does not have to abandon the whole idea.

Nehemiah is such a great template for a leader. His humility displayed before his boss- the King, no less- shows me where his true strength rested. He knew His God and waited before Him, for his marching orders. March he did, all the way from Susa to Jerusalem, (800 miles=1200kms), through dangerous territory, at that! Be encouraged…if God is for us, who can be against us?

I can’t wait for the rest of this series on Nehemiah. I hadn’t realized that I, too, needed God’s encouragement from these humble servants.

Muffin Tins

Looking at this picture of our cat, Angel, I am reminded that my real rest is found in Christ. How is it that I can fret and worry and storm about? Today, I went looking for our muffin tins-the ones I always put in the same place; the very same ones that I used a week ago. They were nowhere to be found; not in any cupboard. My goodness, I even checked in the most unusual of places- like in Mom’s bedroom and downstairs in the basement, (in case I had popped them down there to make more space for other things). I searched high and low; and then looked in the same places again, because I know myself well enough- I am not always very thorough when it comes to looking for things.
Still no muffin tins. So, I asked Mom to do a search- in case I had just missed them, you know.
Mom says: “Now, if you didn’t find them, what makes you think I could find them?”
I say: “Just in case, Mom!”

So she looks in the cupboards and moves a few things around, (much like I did), and says:
“Well, I can’t see them.”

I go back to that same cupboard to look for a pan, and I spot them: those well-hidden, lovely-looking muffin tins. Oh my! All it took was a little more shuffling about of the other objects in that cupboard. Can I say that I felt foolish? I did!

How much time I wasted thinking and wondering and even searching for them; and they were right in front of me. How often do I fret instead of freely ask the Lord? How often do I worry instead of whisper the name of my God, in a prayer of praise and in a prayer for help? How often do I storm about, perhaps even pouting, when I could be storming the gates of heaven where mercy is great and grace is free? In the end, I didn’t have time to make my carrot muffins; chocolate chip cookies took their place. But I did have time to ask the Lord for a right attitude and a quiet spirit.

Yes, my soul, find rest in God; my hope comes from him.

Psalm 62:5

The old shed, revisited

Who would have thought tearing down an old structure would be more complicated than setting up a new one?  I knew I had to empty out the old shed before the boys could tear it down.  And then I realized I needed their help with even that first step.  So, when the boys arrived, the conversation went like this:

The boys:  Before we start, we should empty out the new one first and then the old one.

Me:  Great idea, guys!  Let`s do it and then tear down the old one.

The boys: You`ll need to separate what you want to keep and what you want to throw away.

Me: Great, I can do that!

The boys: Wait!  We should put up some shelving in the new shed.

Me:  Yes, I have some shelving ready-to-go.  I just didn`t have the time to get it done.

The boys:  Great, we can do that!

So, day one was spent emptying, creating and filling.  Day two was spent dismantling.  Had not the young lads come to help, I would have struggled all by myself; creating chaos but not order; getting rid of the old but not quite prepared to replace it with the new.

Old habits are like that, too.  And for me, there is one that over-arcs them all:  I`d like to pray more.  I need to pray more.

          Well then, just stop doing some things and replace that with prayer.                                         

       Wait!  I`m drawn to the computer- have to check emails and facebook and the news and...

          Put the computer in a different room.

        I can`t put it too far because I will need it very soon.

         Put it somewhere else, then.

      Well, if I put it elsewhere, maybe the cat will get at it and knock it over and damage it and...

So I argue with myself, and I tend to lose the argument.

I needed those lads on that day, and a subsequent day; and we`re still not done dismantling the old shed.  Their help was invaluable, and I see that I will always need others to help me uproot old habits and plant new ones.  Most of the important things in life require planning, and changing our sinful habits to ones that are God-honouring, are worth the effort.

Don`t lose heart.  Old habits may die hard but news ones are germinating just below the surface, and by the grace of God, He will lead us in His wisdom- most often through the help of other believers. 

I need to find a new place to put my computer, so it doesn`t catch my eye' upon entering the living room.  Maybe I`ll start by putting an old blanket over it- out of sight, out of mind.

The old shed is torn down, the new one is organized and I can actually access the things I need.  We found a few treasures in the old shed - some jugs and hasps and a lovely old picture frame.  Is not that the way our God works?  He makes all things new, even as He provides a way to get rid of the old.

"You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness."

(Ephesians 4:22-24)

Can’t see the forest...

Tim Challies has been taking us through John Owen’s book, “Overcoming Sin and Temptation.” His latest post reminded me of the expression: “Can't see the forest for the trees."
I focus on that one sin that I continually commit; the one that I love to hate and try to eradicate. It would be far better that I zero-in on the principle of how sin works in my life. Myopic vision on the one sin is a pathway to “divide and conquer,” rather than focusing on Jesus, who is THE Conqueror. This is not to say that I ignore the “sin that so easily besets me,” which appears to be the lack of faith, (Hebrews11, 12:1).  Rather, by faith, taking hold of Christ who has already conquered death so that I might die to sin daily. It’s been good to be reminded of a deeper obedience and, by that pathway, a deeper peace and greater joy.  Would that I would rise up on the morrow and not forget.  What a Saviour!

You know that feeling...

You know that feeling; the one where you think you have missed something important but can’t quite grasp it.  That’s how I have felt of late, and now I know what it is.  I have missed the grace of God.  It’s not that it no longer exists; nor that it has not been offered to me.   It’s because I have been thirsting for truth and love, and haven’t even taken the first drink offered by Christ, namely, Himself. 

You know that sense of dread; whereby you recall, oh so vividly, the thoughtless word spoken, or a brittle smile barely disguising a haughty spirit?  If the little foxes spoil the vine, then my belittling thoughts can pull down strong trees.

You know that first moment of being awake; the moment you consciously breathe?  In that moment, I want to remember how much Christ really does love me; that my sins are really truly forgiven by Christ.  That’s the grace I need.  That’s the grace offered to me every moment of every day.  How can I forget that?

I am grateful to our worship team at Emmanuel Baptist Church of Clare.  I needed to hear Paul Baloche’s song: “Jesus, Be My Saviour,”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-DaXRcgzD-M,  even though I did not know it.  I was reminded that Jesus Christ is the Sufficient One for all of my life.  Since He has already paid the price for sin; since He has risen from the dead; since He intercedes for me, I don’t need to ask Him to be my Saviour- but I do need reminding that he is such a wonderful Saviour.

I will praise the name of God with a song; I will magnify him with thanksgiving.

Psalm 69:30

This is a song lifted at first light; an offering of praise to my God.

A life shot through with glory... there's no life like it

The mercy and kindness of God- they know no end.  How else to explain the cross?  How else to explain why an innocent man would die so that others, his enemies, might have life.  Not just some ordinary, hum-drum, boring, profoundly empty, bitter existence.  Life in Christ is not some stoic, I’ll-get-through-this-somehow kind of life. No, it is a life that is shot through with glory; even in the midst of great pain and suffering.  A life that overflows into the lives of others- demonstrating love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.  A life that already has been seated in heavenly places, in Christ Jesus.  Being in Christ- there’s no life like it.  I would not trade a nano-second of my life in Christ, with anything the world may have to offer.  Yes, even when I am misunderstood; even when I am mocked; even when my uncertain feelings do not catch up with the reality of the depth of the gospel. 

“And this is life eternal.  That they may know Thee, the only true God

And Jesus Christ whom Thou hast sent.”

(John 17:3)

Old Paths

Our squirrels; they have worn a narrow path from the house to the trees.  And the cat has come upon it- their scent is still on the trail, as she strains on her leash.  They use the same escape route every time.  I’m reminded of my own habits; using worn, narrow paths.  Turning to sleep rather than spending time in prayer; chasing after flowers rather than spending time visiting others.  Escaping into a good book rather than delving into the Good Book.  Keeping to myself, rather than engaging others in conversation, because sometimes it just seems very hard to look past the emptiness of it all and see people’s need of the gospel.   There’s nothing wrong with sleep and flowers and a good book and some solitary time, even at work.  But when they become the norm, something has to change. 

There are ancient boundaries that should not change- the lines of Scripture that always lead me back to the cross of Christ; the boundaries of good friends who are not afraid to re-direct my heart and the ancient pathways that call me to sweet worship and fellowship. 

It’s not enough to just “stop” an old habit- I need a new pathway to replace it.  And, wouldn’t you know it; it’s the one that will always bring me back to the narrow road that leads to eternal life.  Refreshing to be reminded that I am already on this narrow road- no one can take me from it.  Invigorating to remember that Christ is The Way, The Truth, and The Life and I am His forever.  Exhilarating to recall that my “adequacy is from God.” 

I’m going to walk that little narrow worn path made by my friendly squirrels- if only to remind me that I can break the old habits and renew my life in Christ- whom to know is life eternal.

“Not that we are adequate in ourselves 

to consider anything as coming from ourselves,

but our adequacy is from God.” (2 Corinthians 3:5)

Waltzing

Mom and I have been waltzing lately; waltzing through the corridors of time.  Dancing, instead of sitting; we choose to pay attention to the old Acadian tunes. Pulling weeds instead of planting sorrow; we choose to inhale the lovely fragrances.  Reading stories to one another, instead of watching television; we choose to remember those good old days.  Laughing instead of crying; we choose to rejoice in having this time together. 

I always wanted to know how to waltz; and now I can.  Not with my feet; and not to a certain beat- but to the cadence of Mom’s life.  It is such a bittersweet season, where we find ourselves.  I’m hoping we will be dancing for quite some time to come, because I have so much to learn and Mom has so much more of life to live.

I need to learn about leaning on Jesus; when overwhelmed with uncertainty or with a-not-yet-realized sadness.  I want to learn to dance to a different melody; because the musician, the Great Musician, is playing an unfamiliar song.  I long to learn more of Mom’s secret – how to live life to the fullest; how to dance the night away.  I must learn how to love her well; sharing Christ in the daily steps of this waltz of life.  

"Mom, may I have this dance?"

"Pursue love..."

(1 Corinthians 14:1a)

A Brief Beauty

Flowers.  They seem to last but a short time.  

A wonderful burst of colour, displaying God’s beauteous creation.  

They can emanate such a glorious cornucopia of smells.  Planting and tending them, though ‘tis a brief beauty, is a worthwhile endeavour.  Could my life be thus?

Planting the word of God deep into my heart; tending the garden of my soul 

so that the beauty of Christ may be seen in me; ever so brief that my life may be.

An old hymn:

Let the beauty of Jesus be seen in me,

All His wonderful passion and purity.

May His Spirit divine all my being refine

Let the beauty of Jesus be seen in me.

For we are a fragrance of Christ to God

among those who are being saved

and among those who are perishing

(2 Corinthians 2:16)

Rain; it sings such a melancholic song.  It can bring sadness and joy all at once- a sweet ambivalence that has pointed me to the cross of Christ. Praying for forgiveness over seemingly innocuous sin; rejoicing in hope.  

Rain; it brings life out of a dusty ground and a renewed hope for the day.  

Thank you, Lord.

“Repent therefore and return, that your sins may be wiped away, 

in order that sounds of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord; 

and that He may send Jesus, the Christ appointed for you.” 

(Acts 3:19,20) 

Between here-and-now and yesterday

It struck me, and I was brought to tears.  Heading out the door to get the newspaper, my Mom was putting on her “space jacket.”  Silvery in colour, this cozy, warm coat is getting too big for her.  You see, Mom is losing some height because of osteoporosis.  And she is losing some cognitive ability because of dementia.  I have to remind her to wear a scarf and put on a hat under the hood, and wear her gloves. 

I don’t want her walking up the driveway with one hand holding her hood closer to keep out the wind; the other hand in her pocket to keep it warm.  I tell her she walks like a penguin. I show her exactly how she looks.  And oh my, does she laugh!  “Yes, I guess it does look a bit silly,” she says.

And it struck me that she had been the one to watch out for me, when I was a child.  “Put on your warm socks, inside those winter boots.  Make sure you tie up your hood.  And for heaven’s sake, stop pouting long enough for me to zipper up your jacket!”

It’s a kind of forgetting that can take you by surprise; like not remembering that you painted an oil painting of the ocean; waves crashing and clouds rolling; or asking the same question five times in as many minutes. Or waiting for a response but the question had not been “heard.”  So while it looks like you did not hear anything, (so it could be the hearing aid battery is dead), it’s actually that your mind was elsewhere. 

I find myself refilling the pill container each week and wonder…will she begin to need more of these?  Can we maintain health and strength for the coming days, weeks, months, years?  A life lived somewhere between here-and-now and yesterday; filled with a thousand considerations.  And I, I can too easily foster dependency with my desire to help; but am not always patient enough to wait for her to catch up; to catch on. The need to translate a dialogue or filter out far-too-complicated scenarios can leave me frustrated, and yet I am greeted with such a  thank you in her smile and recognition in her response, that I am left with no other choice but to walk with her through the maze and be grateful for the ability to simplify.

We have met people in the grocery store or a clothing shop who have shown such sweet compassion and generous love to Mom that they have left me in tears. They were neither condescending nor superficial.  Realizing that not every one can handle the confusions of someone whose mind is elsewhere, if only for a moment, I am still appalled at those who watch in mockery and derision and I want to scream at them: “You don’t know her!”  It is achingly painful.

Every day is filled with opportunities to embrace my Mom with value and dignity and genuine love.  And every day, My God desires to draw me close in prayer and give me courage and strength. When I have been hurt or have hurt someone else, my God reminds me that I, too, can ask the same question five times in as many minutes: how can someone hurt me so; or how could someone misrepresent me in that way or when, oh when, will the heartache of my own broken promises be settled.  I am ever so grateful that He does not grow weary with me. 

It matters not, really, where we are living or what is the nature of our work.  It matters that we serve the living God. When the apostle Paul concludes his treatise on the heart of the gospel- Jesus’ death, burial and resurrection, he states:

“Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, 

always abounding in the work of the Lord, 

knowing that your toil is not in vain in the Lord.

(1 Corinthians 15:58)

It is for me to do the remembering, and with it there is no regret, for I know that from here-and-now to yesterday and on to eternity, my God shall supply all of my needs in Christ Jesus, including the daily living with someone whom I love so dearly, and must watch their slow fading of nearby remembrances.

 Easter

 The angel said to the women, at the empty tomb:

"Why are you looking for the living, among the dead?  He is not here.  He is risen! (Luke 24:5,6).  

Ha!  Take that, o death.
You who were our last enemy.
You who are such a thief,
Leaving behind sorrow upon sorrow.

You who plunge the world under
Tsunami waves of heartache.
Overwhelming the souls
Of those who remain rooted in anguish.

You have no grip on me, o death.
For me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.

"Death is swallowed up in victory.  O death where is your victory?  O death where is your sting?"

 (1 Corinthians 15:54,55)

Ha!  Take that, o death!

Thank You

Thank you.

Simple words.  I’ve been thinking about them lately.  Maybe it’s because I’ve been playing a lot of Bridge with a number of seniors, and you ALWAYS thank your partner, after playing a Bridge hand. 

Thank you.

Lovely words.  They convey a grateful spirit, a heartfelt response to a gift given, a helping hand, a surprise visit. 

Thank you.

Sweet words.  Most often, we say: “Thank you,” and state the person’s name.  When we want to get someone’s attention, really want them to see our joy, we’ll say their name first, and then “thank you.”

It's what I’ve been mulling over, all week.  

It’s what I’ve been singing, all week.

“Jesus, Thank You.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XG7hVInkfes

What a lovely name to a great song!

Jesus, thank you: for the cross, for the resurrection, for your constant presence, for your people, for heaven waiting for us and hell unable to snatch us. 

Jesus, thank you!

"Rejoice always; pray without ceasing; in everything give thanks; 

for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." 

(1 Thessalonians 5: 16-18)

Gracious Words

Am I an encourager of the saints?  Or does a critical spirit colour my description of other believers?  In his closing remarks in Romans, chapter 16, Paul refers to 35 different people, by name!  His words are worth considering and worth remembering, when it comes to my own description of fellow Christians; words to build up, and not to tear down.

Here is the list, with the descriptive words in bold:

Commends our sister Phoebe, to the church in Rome; servant of the church, a helper

Paul greets the following, in his letter:

Prisca and Aquila- fellow workers; risked their own necks

Epaenetus- my beloved- the first convert to Christ from Asia

Mary- worked hard

Andronicus and Junias- my kinsmen, my fellow prisoners; outstanding among the apostles

Amplaitus, my beloved in the Lord

Urbanus,our fellow worker in Christ

Stachys, my beloved

Apelles, the approved in Christ

Herodion, my kinsman

House of Narcissus, who are in the Lord

Tryphaena and Tryphosa, workers in the Lord

Persis, the beloved, who has worked hard in the Lord

Rufus, a choice man in the Lord

Rufus’ mother and mine

Asyncritus, Phlegon, Hermes, Patrobas, Hermas and the brethren

Philologus, Julia, Nereus, his sister, Olympas- all the saints

Greetings from:

Timothy, my fellow worker

Lucius, Jason, Sosipater, my kinsmen

Tertius, wrote the letter

Gaius, host to Paul and to the whole church

Erastus, the city treasurer

Quartus, the brother

I can choose to bless others by speaking well of them.

Or I can destroy others by speaking ill.

The church needs her encouragers.

“Let no unwholesome, (rotten), word proceed from your mouth,

 but only such a word as is good for edification according to the need of the moment, 

that it may give grace to those who hear.”

(Ephesians 4:29)

The Cross

Pastor Pernell recently said:  “The cross says more about God than it does about us.”  I have been pondering it ever since.  It shouts out!  God’s astounding love, his glorious mercy, his magnificent plan, and his perfect justice are all seen at the cross.  Sin really is so serious, that someone has to pay a penalty.  God took it seriously.  Otherwise, why would Jesus have allowed himself to be nailed to a cross- that ultimate symbol of cursing? 

Unless God had revealed it to us, we would not have, could not have seen the answer:  Jesus, dying on a cross, willing to pay the price for our sin.  “Christ died for the ungodly.” (Romans 5: 8).  It is unfathomable that someone would die for their enemy.  But that is exactly what has happened.  Who could have possibly planned such a rescue; an unimaginable rescue, that no one could thwart- not even the devil himself. 

We have been hijacked, you see; hijacked by our own sinful nature.  And we needed a mediator to negotiate our release.  Our pride, our willful blindness to the truth of just how sinful we are, would keep us from the cross.  But Jesus came. 

God made him, (Jesus), who had no sin to be sin for us,

so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.

(2 Corinthians 5:21)

Yes, the cross speaks volumes about God.

Golden Threads

There I was - entering a church building where I knew no one; not a single soul.  And oh, happy providence, I sat next to Lillian.  She became one of the precious golden threads that brought me into fellowship at West Toronto Baptist Church,(WTBC).  She was an older lady; petite and sharply dressed.  Twinkle in her eyes and hands folded so demurely on her lap, she held her purse in that sweet manner of her generation.

Our first conversation:

“Anyone sitting here,” was my question.

“Sit next to me, dear,”  was her response.

Well, as a Cape Bretoner, that ‘dear’ got me comfy 'right quick.'

 “What’s your name, dear?”

“Francine.  And yours?”

“Lillian.  Lillian Scott.  I love you, dear.”

I nearly burst into tears right then and there.  “Oh God,” I prayed, “You have given me such a gift!”

And so the treasury of a thousand smiles and sweet fellowship began.   I met her husband on that first night.  Jim.  I couldn’t bring myself to call him by his first name.  My father would have given me quite the lecture.  I ended up calling Lillian by her first name but called Jim, Mr. Scott.  I couldn’t help it.

I didn’t know it then, but I came to understand that dear Lillian was slipping into that uncertain world of Alzheimer’s - a disease that bullied its way into her life. Mr. Scott loved her so; with a fierce and yet gentle passion that encouraged my heart perhaps more than they both knew.  I needed them.  I learned from them.  They loved me; this stranger in their midst.  They wove me into the very fabric of WTBC, where I became a full time Outreach Missionary. For 15 of those 20 years in the Junction, the west end of Toronto, Lillian and Mr. Scott were there, sometimes literally holding my hand.  Starting with them, many wonderful seniors became intricately entwined with my life.

Over time, Lillian and Mr. Scott moved into a Seniors’ Residence.  And then she moved to the TLC unit.  Visiting Lillian was such an honour. We would chat about anything and everything.  I would sing and read Scripture and pray with her.  She didn’t remember me, but I remembered her.  Oftentimes,  Mr. Scott would be there.  His face would crinkle up in a smile and his eyes would light up with such delight.  Oh- the gift of those precious moments I had with them. 

There were challenges, and heartaches, as the disease stole away some of Lillian’s sweet nature.  I would say to Mr. Scott: “I know her ways of behaving have changed, but we also know that the real Lillian is still there - in need of joy and grace; deserving dignity and respect.”  His eyes shining with tears, he would nod his head and we would pray.

As much as Mr. Scott loved Lillian, he loved Jesus more.  Every month, when a few of us would meet for prayer in his apartment, we spent no time on small talk.  We spent time on our knees before the Lord.  And I am grateful.  I have no doubt that his prayers are still being answered on my behalf, and for the teens in the Junction who are now adults,  for West Toronto Baptist Church, and for the missionaries whose names he had written on sheets of paper - paper that became soaked and blotched from many a tear.

I thank God for these dear saints.  Both of them were already well into their senior years, their golden years, when I met them.  God used them in my life in more ways than I can count.  I pray that I will always have time for seniors. May I serve them well and love them well; these golden threads, woven into the fabric of my life, and into the life of the church.  

Every church needs them.  They need the church. 

Speaking of the church, Paul says:

 “Knit together in love”(Colossians 2:2); 

knit together by God’s grace and design.

Even now I miss Lillian and Mr. Scott with an aching in my soul

that I hope never goes away this side of heaven.

(Photo used with family’s permission)

Breaking

Ice breaking up in the brook.

Snow banks breaking down as they melt into the ground. 

Sun breaking through the wintry snow-laden skies. 

Bird calls breaking into my reverie.

Grace and mercy of God breaking over my soul.

“Let it come, Oh Lord we pray Thee.

Let the showers of blessing fall.

We  are waiting, we are waiting.

Oh revive the hearts of all.”

"Lord,

Break in and steal my heart again.

Break down my defences that keep me from You.

Break through my façade, so others can see You.

Break up the fallow ground.

  Break over my soul in grace and mercy."

A Great Legacy

Acts 20:17-38

 I’m struck by Paul's deeply personal tone, as he bids farewell to the elders of the church at Ephesus.  He had been with them for three years; with tears and trials; with them the whole time; night and day; teaching publicly and house-to-house.  He tells them that they will see his face no more, leaving them in tears.  He commends them to God.  He prays with them before he leaves. 

And yet, he also reminds them of things he did not do, while with them:

Ë Did not shrink from sharing what was profitable

Ë Did not shrink from declaring the whole purpose of God

Ë Did not cease to admonish each one

Oh my!  He was not afraid to remind them of his relentless pursuit of molding and shaping their leadership.  He was not afraid to “speak the truth in love”(Ephesians 4:15).  We have become somewhat of a fearful bunch, us Christians- we don’t want to offend anyone.  And so, we offend our God instead.  We shrink from sharing the truth and declaring God’s purposes and admonishing one another.  Instead, we obfuscate the truth, tone down the difficult providence of God and placate egos. I need others to be willing to point out to me where I’m wrong; to lovingly point me back to the cross.  I need a true spirit of humility to speak to others when they have moved away from the gospel.  If, however, I speak from a place of pride, I’d best not speak at all.  Taking the beam out of my own eye should occupy me for a long enough time that I may even forget about the speck in someone else’s eye.

Paul, he had earned the right to speak.  He loved them well.  He was not on a witch-hunt, sussing out those believers who were disobedient.  On the contrary, he was reminding these church leaders that they could be easily fooled if they were not alert.  If they did not guard against falsehood and “savage wolves,” the flock would be scattered and destroyed.  He reminds them that it’s really all about Jesus: “But I do not consider my life of any account as dear to myself, in order that I may finish my course, and the ministry which I received from the Lord Jesus, to testify solemnly of the gospel of the grace of God,” (v.24) and he says that he was “solemnly testifying to both Jews and Greeks, of repentance toward God and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ.”(v.21)

Solemn is not a word often seen in direct connection to the gospel, but Paul links them here, twice.  Is it not a solemn thing that Jesus actually died on a cross, to deliver us from the penalty of sin and give us new life?  Is it not a solemn thing that people reject this and find themselves at the edge of eternity, with no Saviour?  Is it not a solemn thing when a fellow believer is in open public sin and we dare not love them enough to speak with them, to admonish them?

 “And now I commend you to God,” he says, “and to the word of His grace, which is able to build you up and to give you the inheritance among all those who are sanctified.” (v.32).  Precious words of encouragement, from a man who knew that his own road ahead would be marked with more trials and more tears.  In his final words, he quoted Jesus: “It is more blessed to give than to receive.” (v.35)  He loved them to the end, with a lasting legacy that was personal, powerful and practical. 

  Will I share what’s profitable?  

Will I declare the whole purpose of God?  

Will I admonish when necessary?  

Will I give encouraging words and solemn words?

What kind of prisoner are you?

Acts 16:16-24  (in summary)

Paul and Silas had been to a prayer meeting in Philippi, where Lydia became a believer.  A slave-girl followed them for many days, saying, “These men are bondservants of the Most High God, who are proclaiming to you the way of salvation.” (verse 17).  They commanded the demon to come out of her, and it did.  Outraged, her masters incited the people against Paul and Silas, who were then thrown into prison.

Acts 16:25-31

But about midnight Paul and Silas were  praying and singing hymns of praise to God and the prisoners were listening to them; and suddenly there came a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison house were shaken; and immediately all the doors were opened, and everyone’s chains were unfastened.

And when the jailer had been roused out of sleep and had seen the prison doors opened, he drew his sword and was about to kill himself, supposing that the prisoners had escaped.”

But Paul cried out with a loud voice, saying, ‘Do yourself no harm, for we are all here!’  And he called for lights and rushed in and, trembling with fear, he fell down before Paul and Silas, and after he brought them out he said, ‘Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” And

they said, ‘Believe in the Lord Jesus and you shall be saved, and your household.”

In this story:

     A slave-girl, owned by masters- she had several owners;  a virtual prisoner.

o   More than one human master; enslaved because of demonic possession

o   And how many women today are sex slaves to pimps; slaves to their drug habits?  And how many men are sex slaves- enslaved to their passions? All in need of the liberating gospel

™ She was possessed by a demon, who supposedly gave her the ability to tell fortunes

™ This demon, however, could not lie about the Most High God

™ Two men who were bond-servants of the Most High God- Paul & Silas

o   Are we slaves to sin or to righteousness? (Romans 6:16)

™ This demon could not stand against Jesus. The slave girl was freed.

Midnight

o   Utter darkness in an already completely dark prison

™ Prayers and songs in the night

™ The prisoners were listening

o   Never underestimate the power of prayer and song; anywhere, at any time, for anyone to hear, (a hospital room, a park bench, a prison, a coffee shop)

™ The jailer was asleep. 

o   He didn’t hear the praying and the singing – he really missed out

o   Are there times when I’m asleep instead of hearing what God has to say to me?

™ An earth quake. 

o   I’m always reminded of the earthquake that shook the earth as Jesus was dying(Matt. 27:51) and the one when He rose again. (Matt.28:2)

o   Talk about shaking up your world!

™ Escapees.  But the prisoners didn’t run away.  The Roman jailer literally had to guard the prisoners with his life or it was forfeit if they escaped. 

™ And the jailer wanted to believe. 

o   Needed to believe. Did believe. 

One would have thought it was the prisoners that would have been saved- the obvious ones in need; or the slave girl.  No- it was the jailer.  He was as imprisoned in his sin as the ones whom he guarded.  And two of the prisoners, Paul and Silas, were the least imprisoned of all.  They were free in Christ.  Ah- the ironies of Scripture are sometimes so delicious.  God puts His fingerprint on everything! 

So pray for the ‘obvious ones’ - your family members who have gone astray; your loved ones who appear to have no regard for the gospel.  But don’t be surprised when Jesus saves the ‘good one.’  That was me, as compared to my formerly drug-addicted brother who is now a pastor.  That was me – the one who loved seniors and volunteered in other countries and wanted to do good for others.  I am so thankful that Jesus set me free from my prison of self-righteousness.    Am I perfect?  No.   Am I freely forgiven  in Christ?  Yes- a slave to righteousness, rather than to sin.

 Mark 8:37 says: 

 ‘What does it profit a man if he gain the whole world but lose his own soul?