Fellowship with God

In his autobiographical novel, Everything Sad is Untrue, Daniel Nayeri describes fleeing from Iran as a boy to escape persecution for his Christian faith. At one point, he asks the reader a question:

Would you rather have a God who listens or a god who speaks? Be careful of the answer … There are gods all over the world who just want you to express yourself. At their worst, the people who want a god who listens are self-centered. They just want to live in the land of “do as you please.” And the ones who want a god who speaks are cruel. They just want law and justice to crush everything …. Love is empty without justice. Justice is cruel without love. Oh, and in case it wasn’t obvious the answer is both. God should be both.

Time and again, Jesus proves to be a God who listens. People seek him out by the thousands—but he never refuses a conversation. The only time Jesus ever silences anyone, saying, quite literally, “Be quiet!” it’s a demon (Luke 4:35). Other than that, he’s willing to give anyone the time of day. Blind Bartimaeus shouts to him on a crowded road. While others scold him to keep quiet, Jesus beckons him over and gives Bartimaeus the floor. “What do you want me to do for you?” he asks …. Whatever the blind man had to say, Jesus was all ears.

He’s not just a sounding board, though. Jesus has something to say. Words are the very tools Jesus uses to bring forth his plans …. When his friend is dead and lying in his tomb and Jesus says, “Lazarus, come out!” and the dead man comes out …. In other words, when Jesus speaks things happen.

Jesus is a God who listens and a God who speaks, a God who simply enjoys talking with people. He doesn’t mind being inconvenienced. He’s willing to seek out those who differ with him …. because he is a God who knows, a God to whom all hearts are open and no secrets hid.

The fact that Jesus is the kind of God who wants to be in a personal relationship with us is remarkable compared to the false gods who either speak from on high or listen to us with blank stares .… The Christian faith reveals that we have more than just words, but the Word made flesh.

David Brooks writes in The New York Times:

Rabbi Elliot Kukla once described a woman with a brain injury who would sometimes fall to the floor. People around her would rush to immediately get her back on her feet, before she was quite ready.

She told Kukla, “I think people rush to help me up because they are so uncomfortable with seeing an adult lying on the floor. But what I really need is for someone to get down on the ground with me.”

We all need someone to get down on the ground with us. This is what God has done for us in Jesus Christ.

When Christopher Columbus reached the Caribbean in 1492, he named the inhabitants "Indians." He thought he had reached what Europeans of the time referred to as "the Indies" (China, Japan, and India). In fact, he was nowhere close to South or East Asia. In his path were vast regions of land, unexplored and uncharted, of which Columbus knew nothing. He assumed the world was smaller than it was.

Have we made a similar mistake with regard to Jesus Christ? Are there vast tracts of who he is, according to biblical revelation, that are unexplored? Have we unintentionally reduced him to manageable, predictable proportions? Have we been looking at a junior varsity, decaffeinated, one-dimensional Jesus of our own making, thinking we're looking at the real Jesus? Have we snorkeled in the shallows, thinking we've now hit bottom on the Pacific?

The pandemic has done a lot of strange things to the global economy over the last 14 months, from creating a massive shortage of semiconductor chips to a ballooning supply of hand sanitizer.

The US housing market has gone haywire too, as urbanites took advantage of remote work to leave expensive cities and resettle in smaller towns across the US. But it's not all that simple. Glenn Kelman, the chief executive of Redfin, broke down some of his observations of just how unusual the current US housing market is in a Tuesday Twitter thread:

Inventory is down 37% year over year to a record low. The typical home sells in 17 days, a record low. Home prices are up a record amount, 24% year over year, to a record high. And still homes sell on average for 1.7% higher than the asking price, another record.

It has been hard to convey how bizarre the US housing market has become. For example, a Bethesda, Maryland homebuyer included in her written offer a pledge to name her first-born child after the seller. She lost.

Possible Preaching Angle:

God’s people have no such worry. We have a guaranteed home in heaven, personally prepared by Christ, reserved in heaven for us. And, we should mention, it is fully paid for.

What’s the name of the tallest mountain in the world? The answer may surprise you. Most people would answer, Mount Everest, but actually it is Mauna Kea, on the island of Hawaii. The inactive volcano is a modest 13,799 feet above sea level, but when measured from the seabed to its summit, it is 33,465 feet high--about three-quarters of a mile taller than Mount Everest.

As far as mountains are concerned, the current convention is that “highest” means measured from sea level to summit; “tallest” means measured from the bottom of the mountain to the top. So, while Mount Everest, at 29,029 feet is the highest mountain in the world, it is not the tallest. Measuring mountains is trickier than it looks. It’s easy enough to see where the top is, but where exactly is the “bottom” of a mountain?

Possible Preaching Angle:

For the Christian, the important thing is not what others see, but the depth of our walk with God. We have a hidden history with God. We must have foundations. It is the hidden prayer life, growth in faith, obedient service, and who you are when no one's looking.

You know him as the smart, nerdy dude from Jurassic Park and Independence Day. But if things had turned out differently, Hollywood actor Jeff Goldblum might have added another role to his long list of credits: the voice of Siri.

Speaking on the Today Show in Australia, Goldblum revealed that Apple's late cofounder Steve Jobs once offered him the opportunity to do some voiceover work. Goldblum said, "Steve Jobs called me up a few decades ago to be the voice of Apple. That was early on, and I did not know it was Steve Jobs." Sadly, the collaboration never came to pass. A Georgia-based voiceover actress named Susan Bennett went on to become the first voice of Siri.

Possible Preaching Angle:

As a young boy, Samuel heard the voice of God in the night calling him. On the third hearing, he obeyed. Elijah heard the voice of God, not in the whirlwind earthquake or fire, but in a gentle whisper. Moses heard God’s voice in a burning bush. Are you careful to listen to the still small voice of God as he invites you to follow and obey?

Tim Challies writes:

Every now and again Aileen gets into cooking shows. Every time she does, it works out well for me. And for the kids. It could be Top Chef or Master Chef. It doesn’t really matter. She starts watching and before long she gets cooking.

Whether in narrow pursuits like cooking or wider pursuits like living, we are people who thrive on imitation and inspiration. Whether deliberately or inadvertently we are always on the lookout for people who are worthy of imitation. Aspiring chefs seek out, carefully watch, and closely imitate experienced chefs.

Cooking shows are meant to be entertaining, but they are also meant to be inspiring. They are meant to attract viewers, but also to inspire imitators. And in that way they are a little glimpse of the way we should all live our lives. For in some ways every life should be a show, a public demonstration--of virtue, a display of character, a demonstration of practical godliness. Every life should be lived in such a way that it inspires others to imitate it.

Even as we follow our Savior, we must be willing and eager to have people follow us. Like Paul we should say, “Be imitators of me, as I am of Christ” (1 Cor. 11:1). Just as we have all longed for an example to follow, we must provide an example for others to follow. Just as we have longed to be imitators, we must be eager and willing to be imitated.

In a book titled Faith For Exiles, David Kinnaman and Mark Matlock looked at what separates young people who grew up in church and remain actively engaged in their faith and those that are no longer committed to core Christian beliefs and behaviors.

One thing they noticed is that “resilient disciples,” their name for the ones who stayed committed to core principles of the faith, experience far greater joy and intimacy with Jesus.

Compared to those that simply attend church, “resilient disciples” are far more likely to say that their relationship with Jesus brings them joy (90% vs. 48%), shapes their whole life in body, mind, heart, and soul (88% vs. 51%), and impacts the way they live every day (86% vs. 49%).

They also have a richer prayer life. Resilient disciples are more likely to say that time with Jesus reenergizes their life (87% vs. 46%), reading the Bible makes them feel closer to God (87% vs. 44%), listening to God is a big part of their prayer life (78% vs. 48%), and prayer does not feel like a chore but a vibrant part of their life (64% vs. 39%).

Consider this point made by W. E. Adams, C. S. Lewis' spiritual director for a season:

We can advance along the road to perfection only by walking closely with [Jesus]. And as we watch His way of dealing with the countless problems and troubles that beset His life, we achieve wisdom as to how to meet our own. But to walk with Jesus is to walk with a slow, unhurried pace. Hurry is the death of prayer and only impedes and soils our work. It never advances it.

Florencia Rastelli was mortified. As she wiped the counter at the cafe where she works, she knocked over a glass and it shattered loudly on the floor. The customers all stood still, petrified, Ms. Rastelli recalled. “I was like: Of all days, this one,” she said. “Even a police officer popped in and asked me to keep it down. I was so embarrassed.”

The people of Cremona, Italy, are unusually sensitive to noise right now. The police have cordoned off streets in the bustling city center and traffic has been diverted. The city’s mayor implored Cremona’s citizens to avoid any sudden and unnecessary sounds.

Cremona is home to the workshops of some of the world’s finest instrument makers, including Antonio Stradivari, who produced some of the finest violins and cellos ever made. The city is getting behind an ambitious project to digitally record the sounds of the Stradivarius instruments for posterity. And that means being quiet.

So that future generations won’t miss out on hearing the instruments, sound engineers are producing the “Stradivarius Sound Bank”—a database storing all the possible tones that the instruments can produce.

The engineers thought their project was finally ready to get underway. But a soundcheck revealed a major flaw. The sound of a car engine, or a woman walking in high heels, produced vibrations that ran underground and reverberated in the microphones, making the recording worthless.

The police cordoned off the streets. The auditorium’s ventilation was turned off. Every light bulb in the concert hall was unscrewed to eliminate a faint buzzing sound. The violist played a C-major scale as the recording team watched their screens responding to the crisp sound of the instrument.

Then it happened, and they froze. “Stop for a moment, please,” the sound engineer said. They rewound the recording, and played it again. The technician heard the problem, loud and clear: “Who dropped a glass on the floor?”

Possible Preaching Angles:

1) Bible; Scripture; Word of God – The Bible accurately records the very words of God so that we can hear his voice generations after he has spoken; 2) Meditation; Silence; Fellowship with God - In order to meditate on Scripture and to fellowship with God we must silence the constant noise around us and focus on him.

In his book Identity Matters, Christian author Terry Wardle tells a story from his childhood. Terry had a hand-me-down, fixed-up, big, blue girl's Schwinn bike. One day his mom finally let him venture outside his own neighborhood. Wardle tells what happened next:

I had broken free of the constraints of my little neighborhood, and now I was on my own to experience a grand adventure. I felt like a somebody, even on a big, blue, girl's Schwinn bike. With saddlebags! As I crossed the railroad tracks and then rumbled over a small creek on a single-lane bridge. The bridge, made of wood and steel, was no big deal. But on that day long ago it became a bridge too far. As I began to cross, four teenage boys stepped onto the far side of the bridge. I intended to pass on by.

They had other things in mind. One of the boys grabbed my handlebars and spun my bike to an abrupt stop. "Hey, where do you think you're goin'?" he snarled, as another boy chimed in, "Yeah, kid, where ya goin'?" Instantly I knew they intended to beat me up. I was petrified. I couldn't fight or break free to run, so I stood there frozen. Suddenly one of the bullies asked, "What's your name?" I answered him in a high-pitched preadolescent, quivering voice, "Terry Wardle."

The three remaining teenagers got a bit silent and looked at one another nervously. "Are you related to Tom Wardle?" Tom was a much older cousin, who happened to play defensive end on the high school football team. But I lied and told them Tom was my brother. They immediately backed off. One of the boys straightened out my shirt, and started saying, "Hey, we were just funning you. No harm. You're a great kid, and … if anyone ever gives you any trouble, you tell us and we'll take care of you."

That was a formative day for me. I learned that simply being Terry Wardle was not enough to be respected, accepted, and safe. In the panic of the moment, when the cry for safety was loudest, I lied. Yes, everything did turn out okay, but I had to pretend to be something I was not or they would have roughed me up. I had learned that this is an unsafe and ungenerous world, and that attaining any degree of success in life would demand much more than simply being me.

Possible Preaching Angles: Identity; Significance; Identity in Christ—Like Terry Wardle, we have all found ways to base our sense of identity and significance in something else besides our deepest identity found in Jesus Christ.

Robert Morgan provides this thought provoking illustration in Moments of Reflection: Reclaiming the Lost Art of Biblical Meditation:

When Harry Truman became president, he worried about losing touch with common, everyday Americans, so he would often go out and be among them. Those were in simpler days, when the president could take a walk like everyone else.

One evening, Truman decided to take a walk down to the Memorial Bridge on the Potomac River. When he grew curious about the mechanism that raised and lowered the bridge, he made his way across the catwalks and came upon the bridge tender, who was eating his evening supper out of a tin bucket. The man showed absolutely no surprise when he looked up and saw the best-known and most powerful man in the world. He just swallowed his food, wiped his mouth, smiled, and said, "You know, Mr. President, I was just thinking of you." According to Truman's biographer, David McCullough, it was a greeting that Truman adored and never forgot.

The Lord adores it when he finds us just thinking about him.

Yes, we all know we should eat healthy. But even the healthiest of diets can meet their match in an all-too-familiar enemy: stress.

A study published in Molecular Psychiatry "suggests stress can override the benefits of making better food choices." The findings were based on research in which 58 women "completed surveys to assess the kinds of stress they were experiencing" and also were given "two different types of meals to eat, on different days": one meal with plenty of saturated fat, the other a healthier option with plenty of plant-based oils. Some "counterintuitive" results came back from the experiment. According to the study's author, Janice Kiecolt-Glaser, "If a woman was stressed on a day when she got the healthy meal, she looked like she was eating the saturated fat meal in terms of her [inflammation] responses." Over time, high levels of inflammation could potentially lead to "a range of diseases."

Thankfully, NPR's coverage of the study ended on a hopeful note, alluding to "a whole range of strategies that have been shown to help manage stress," including performing kind deeds for others and what they called "perhaps the world's greatest stress reliever"—close, personal relationships.

Potential Preaching Angles: Science is showing that healthy eating may not always win out against stress, and even the best stress relievers may fail at times—but the "close, personal relationship" we have with our Savior is one that has already won against stress, fear, and even death.

Some years ago we often sang a hymn, "Take Time to Be Holy." I wish we sang it more in these days. It takes time to be holy; one cannot be holy in a hurry, and much of the time that it takes to be holy must go into secret prayer. Some people express surprise that professing Christians today are so little like their Lord, but when I stop to think how little time the average Christian today puts into secret prayer the thing that astonishes me is, not that we are so little like the Lord, but that we are as much like the Lord as we are.

There are only three kinds of persons; those who serve God, having found Him; others who are occupied in seeking Him, not having found Him; while the remainder live without seeking Him, and without having found Him. The first are reasonable and happy, the last are foolish and unhappy; those between are unhappy and reasonable.

As much as I enjoy talking, laughing, shopping or playing thought-provoking games with my two teens, I have to admit that sometimes I miss when they were babies. As infants, they would display sheer joy whenever I walked into the room. They simply wanted to be with me--and found comfort in being carried or held on my lap.

I wonder if God sometimes feels that way about me. Now that I've "grown up," do I still express excitement about simply being in his presence? Does God miss me lifting up my arms for him to hold me?

Though I was barely 6 years of age, I well remember sitting by a roaring fire on a Sunday during World War 2. Our family had fled the bombs that rained down on us one night, chasing us hundreds of miles away to the beautiful English lake district--William Wordsworth country.

The mists were gone, and a storm had broken over our heads. The rain, like giant tears, slashed against the window pane, and the thunder grumbled away as if it were angry it had to hang around all day. I didn't like storms, and I was old enough to understand that a bigger storm was raging, a war involving the entire world. But at the moment, it seemed far away. The fire was warm, and my father was relaxed, reading the paper, sitting in his big chair.

Suddenly, as if he were aware I needed a bit of reassurance, he put down his paper and smiled at me. "Come here, little girl," he said in his quiet but commanding voice. And then I was safe in his arms, lying against his shoulder and feeling the beat of his heart. What a grand place to be. Here I could watch the rain and listen to the thunder all day.

I've realized how my heavenly Father shelters me from the storms of life. When times of sorrow swamped me at my mother's funeral, I sought the reassurance of my Father's presence. When winds of worry whipped away my confidence as I faced gangs of young people in street evangelism, I glanced up to see my Father's face. When floods of fear rose in my spirit as I waited in a hospital room for the results of frightening tests, I sensed my heavenly Father saying, "Come here, little girl."

I climbed into his arms, leaned against his shoulder, and murmured, "Ah, this is a grand place to be."

And as I rest in that safe place knowing that my Father is bigger than any storm that beats against the window pane of my life, I can watch the rains and listen to the thunder, knowing that everything is all right. Here I can feel the beat of my Father's heart.

The turning point in our lives is when we stop seeking the God we want and start seeking the God who is.

In his book Good Morning Merry Sunshine, Chicago Tribune columnist Bob Greene chronicles his infant daughter's first year of life. When little Amanda began crawling, he records: "This is something I'm having trouble getting used to. I will be in bed reading a book or watching TV. And I will look down at the foot of the bed and there will be Amanda's head staring back at me.

"Apparently I've become one of the objects that fascinate her. ... It's so strange. After months of having to go to her, now she is choosing to come to me. I don't know quite how to react. All I can figure is that she likes the idea of coming in and looking at me. She doesn't expect anything in return. I'll return her gaze and in a few minutes she'll decide she wants to be back in the living room and off she'll crawl again." The simple pleasure of looking at the one you love--what Bob and his daughter enjoyed--is what we enjoy each time we worship God and bask in his presence.

My son-in-law, Alan Jones, told me a story of a Hassidic rabbi, renowned for his piety. He was unexpectedly confronted one day by one of his devoted youthful disciples. In a burst of feeling, the young disciple exclaimed, "My master, I love you!" The ancient teacher looked up from his books and asked his fervent disciple, "Do you know what hurts me, my son?"

The young man was puzzled. Composing himself, he stuttered, "I don't understand your question, Rabbi. I am trying to tell you how much you mean to me, and you confuse me with irrelevant questions." "My question is neither confusing nor irrelevant," rejoined the rabbi. "For if you do not know what hurts me, how can you truly love me?"