Dear Church #7: Philippians 3:12-14

Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3:12-14)

What does it mean to “obtain” something? In this case, it means “to lay hold of” or ‘”to make as your own”. So Paul begins this passage by pausing in his exhortations to the Church, and letting his readers know that he hasn’t yet made “all this” his own. What is the “all this” he is referring to? It is everything he has written about to this point, everything we’ve covered in the first six messages of this series. By this point in the book of Philippians, Paul has encouraged the Church to begin where we are right now, to love those around us with the love of Jesus, to take the story of what Jesus has done in our lives everywhere, to “live as Christ” which is to die to ourselves, to model humility, to abandon ourselves and embrace Christ’s life in us as we focus on Him as our Lord–as the One thing that really matters. He outlines all of these things (and more), and then in the middle of chapter 3, he pauses. He stops to say that he hasn’t yet obtained these things, he hasn’t made them his own. And that pause is an invitation to stop and take a breath, to reflect and consider all that we’ve heard thus far. And to remember that, once again, this walk is not something we do in our own strength.

This passage highlights the tension between the now and the not yet. There is this picture of the ideal walk of faith that Paul has been painting for us, what it looks like to die to ourselves and live fully for Christ. And then there is the reality that we all-including Paul-fall short of that ideal. But rather than allow the truth that we’re not there yet to make us feel defeated or to cause us to lose hope in the process, Paul encourages us once again to remember that we are not the ones holding our lives together. He reminds us that we are not actually in control–and that is precisely why we can breathe and just keep going.

Where am I getting that? Paul says that he has not obtained all this, he hasn’t arrived, hasn’t yet taken hold of “that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me”In these few verses, he is contrasting his own shortcomings-he hasn’t yet made all of this his own-with the surpassing power of Christ, who has already made him (and us) His own. The crux of verse 12 is not that we keep pressing on in order to take hold of Jesus, to cling to Him, to make Him our own. It is that we can keep moving toward Him, because He’s already holding onto us. It’s imperative that we see this rightly, or we live a life of striving, of attempting to grab hold of Jesus, but always falling short in our own strength.

But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved.   (Ephesians 2:4-5)

Just as dead people can’t make themselves alive on their own, humanity can’t manufacture the strength to hold onto the Divine, to the eternal. But because Jesus first took hold of us, we can now, in His strength, reach back to Him. This reaching, though, is not what we might think of when we think about “holding on” to something. It is not a white-knuckled grasp, a secure grip so as not to lose what we’re holding onto. Because it’s impossible to lose something that has taken hold of you-unless that thing lets go. We have zero control of our ability to hold onto Jesus. And realizing that is pure grace. What we may have perceived as a need to “hold on tight” becomes an invitation to completely let go. Because that which is holding onto us is Jesus himself. And He will never let go. There is nowhere we could go that He wouldn’t already be there waiting for us. We cannot lose Him, because He’s grafted us into the vine of Himself and placed His very life into us who were dead, and there’s no separating our life from His. It is a sheer impossibility. Inhale. Exhale. And find yourself completely safe within the hands that knit each one of us together and put His own breath in our lungs.

So what is the “pressing on” that Paul writes of, then? It’s an invitation to keep going. Understanding that Jesus has already made us His own, that we are forever held by Him, we can take the next step. We can stop worrying about all that we have to “do” to cling to Jesus and live present to His leading today, in this moment. Our “pressing on” is simply taking one step at a time on our journey of being made like Christ and living for Him.

If we see ourselves as responsible for holding onto Jesus, we’ll find ourselves holding onto old ideas and past experiences of Him–and we’ll miss the depths of what He wants to show us about Himself right now. In verse 13, Paul writes of “forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead”. Straining, in this context, means “to stretch out in the direction of something”. It is less about straining in the way we think of strenuous exercise or effort and more about which direction we’re going

When I ponder this section, I can’t help but think of Isaiah 43, where God, through Isaiah, instructs the people to simultaneously remember and forget. Considering the two passages together, I believe the point is our orientation to time, because it determines what and how we see what’s happening in the now. In the beginning of Isaiah 43, and more specifically in verses 16-17, God reminds the people of all He has done, of how He has been their Deliverer, their Savior. And then, in verses 18-19, He says this:

Forget about what’s happened;
    don’t keep going over old history.
Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new.
    It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it?
There it is! I’m making a road through the desert,
    rivers in the badlands.” (MSG)

So God tells the people first to remember, then to forget. Why?

Sometimes, we get fixated on what God did then, and how He did it before. Maybe the remembering is to remind us that God is and always has been, in the case of this particular passage, our Deliverer. But the forgetting is about the way He delivered then. It is a laying down of our expectations of how He will show up this time. The miracle of parting the Red Sea is not the miracle the people needed in the middle of the desert, when there was no water in sight. They needed to remember who God was to remind them that He still is that same God. But they needed to forget the circumstances of then, so that they could live present to nowIf we find ourselves holding onto old ideas and past experiences with Him–we’ll miss the depths of what He wants to show us about Himself right now. 

In our passage, when Paul says he is forgetting what is behind, it is in order to remain present to the Jesus who lives with us in the now. So that we can keep moving toward what’s to come. Dwelling on the past, whether it be about what we’ve done or failed to do, or how we’ve experienced Jesus before, robs of the gift of today. The depths of Jesus are unsearchable. We cannot dive deep enough to explore the breadth of all that He is. We can only see and grasp what He reveals of Himself to us. And if our eyes are fixed on what is behind us, if our expectations are based in who Jesus was to us then, we essentially dig our heels in and cease moving forward. We cannot continue to be transformed into the likeness of Jesus if we fix our gaze on a faded photograph of how He appeared to us back then. And as Pastor John told us on Sunday, the opposite of looking back  is not looking forward. We have to have a different view of our now. We have to let go of our white-knuckled grip on the faded photograph of yesterday so that we can live fully present to our today, which will allow us to take the necessary steps that will get us to our tomorrow. That’s how it works.

Dear Church… we haven’t arrived yet. We didn’t have it together back in “the good ole days” (those days are an illusion-for so many, they were anything but “good”), we don’t have it together today, and-spoiler alert-we aren’t going to have it together tomorrow either. And that’s okay. We aren’t the captains of this ship-we never have been. What we are responsible for is waking up to now, to the leading of the Spirit in this moment. We can only take one step at a time, trusting that the One who has always been holding onto us will continue to hold us firmly within His capable, loving hands, and will lead us on until the day we are perfected and made complete in His presence, as His beloved Bride. Until that day comes, we practice all that we’ve learned so far, all that has led up to this point in the letter. We learn from Christ and we allow His life to overcome ours. We experience His love and then we share that experience everywhere we go. And when we feel overwhelmed by all that we have not yet obtained-we press pause. We breathe. And we remember that we can make Jesus our own only because He first called us His own. And we can only run after Him as He draws us in. We were dead. He made us alive. And we get to live for Him, one step at a time.

Dear Church… keep moving forward.

–Laura

Image result for one step at a time

Last Words: Peter

On Sunday, Pastor Beau introduced our new series, Last Words. We will be looking at some powerful “last words” in the lives of four different people in the Bible.

Beau introduced this series by talking a little bit about the significance of last words. They carry weight. We tend to remember them. If we’re the one speaking them, we tend not to waste them. They are intentional, and they can reveal priorities as well as the condition of a heart. When we hear the phrase “last words”, we naturally connect it to the final statements one makes before they die. But there are many other scenarios to which the phrase applies. There are the last words we say to someone else before they die, the last thing we say before a life-changing event, or as we leave a job, a home, a church, a position. There are daily last words–the things we say as we put our kids to bed or say goodnight to our spouse, or what we say before doing something stupid. This is only a partial list, and the scenarios vary in significance, but last words can happen at many different points throughout a person’s life. This series will take us through a variety of last words, and each story is significant.

This week, we heard about some of Peter’s last words. Beau talked about Peter’s last words before Jesus’ crucifixion-his well-known betrayal of Jesus-and also took us through some of the last words he wrote before he died, words we are probably less familiar with when we think about his story.

If there were no recorded history of Peter’s life after his denial of Jesus, his entire story would be marked by that denial. Even though we do know the rest of the story, we still tend to think about this mistake first when we hear his name. It marked him, for sure. We all carry the markings of of our wounds and mistakes. But it didn’t define him. And our mistakes don’t have to define us, either. Beau’s big question for us this week was, “Who is Jesus to you?” To Peter, Jesus was the tranformative Healer and Savior who not only gave him his identity, but forged that identity in him through the very mistakes that could have otherwise left him feeling disqualified from his calling. I hope that as we walk through some of Peter’s story here, we’ll each come to understand and believe that, like Peter, our stories don’t end in our failures, and that sometimes it takes a while to live into the truth of who Jesus says we are.

Beau talked to us briefly about Jesus changing Peter’s name from Simon son of John, to Peter, the name we know him by today. I’m going to begin there.

When I think about Jesus changing Simon’s name, my mind naturally goes to the moment recorded in Matthew 16:

Then he asked them, “But who do you say I am?” Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”  Jesus replied, “You are blessed, Simon son of John, because my Father in heaven has revealed this to you. You did not learn this from any human being. Now I say to you that you are Peter (which means ‘rock’), and upon this rock I will build my church, and all the powers of hell will not conquer it. (Matthew 16:15-18)

This wasn’t the first mention of the name change, though. That moment happened much earlier. It is found in John 1:41-42:

The first thing Andrew did was to find his brother Simon and tell him, “We have found the Messiah” (that is, the Christ). And he brought him to Jesus. Jesus looked at him and said, “You are Simon son of John. You will be called Cephas” (which, when translated, is Peter).

Notice that in the verses from John, Jesus says “you will be called…”. This is when Simon meets Jesus for the first time. In that moment, even though they haven’t yet built a relationship, Jesus tells him something about his identity. Later on, after getting to know each other and walking together, toward the end of Jesus’ earthly ministry, He asks his disciples who they believe He is. Simon Peter articulates correctly that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God. Upon hearing Simon Peter’s accurate beliefs about Him, Jesus replies, “Now I say to you that you are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church…” In this instance, Jesus reinforces the identity that He had given him previously, and adds to it calling and purpose. How we answer the question “Who is Jesus to you?”, the question that Beau asked us to consider, is so important. A.W. Tozer said it this way,

“What comes into our minds when we think about God is the most important thing about us.”

What we believe about God, who Jesus is to us, says so much about who we are and where we are in our walk with Him. In the verses from John that we looked at above, we can see what Peter believed about Jesus. But just because his beliefs were correct, and just because Jesus reinforced his identity and revealed more about his purpose, does not mean that Peter was living into that identity yet. In fact, we get to see him stumble around in it, taking steps forward and steps backward for some time before he settles into who he really is and what he’s been called to do. I appreciate these glimpses into his very real, very messy story that we’re given, because I know I’ve done (and still do) the same thing. Let’s look at some of the ups and downs of his story and see if we can see any glimpses of ourselves in his process…

Immediately following the verses in Matthew 16 that we looked at above, we read about Jesus shifting from public ministry to preparing His disciples for his coming death. And Peter takes that opportunity to rebuke Jesus (never a great idea…), to which Jesus responds,

 “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.” (Matthew 16:23) 

Five verses separate Jesus’ proclamation of Peter’s identity and calling and this moment, when he, uh, calls him “Satan”. Five verses. I can’t imagine how small (and maybe afraid?) Peter felt in this moment. Maybe he had forgotten that, often, there is a good chunk of time between the anointing and the appointing. Or maybe he was having a Simon moment. You know, those moments when self takes over and we slip back into the identity that we haven’t quite let go of yet… maybe this was a moment like that.

In the next chapter of Matthew, we find Peter with Jesus on the mountain of His Transfiguration. Peter again says some silly things, but only until he hears the terror-inducing voice of God booming from a cloud, saying,

“This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him!” (Matthew 17:5)

We don’t learn until later how impactful this moment was for Peter. He writes about it not long before his death and they were some of his last recorded words, the ones that Beau focused on in Sunday’s message (2 Peter 1:16-18). This moment reinforced and confirmed Peter’s belief that Jesus was the Son of God.

It can be hard to believe that after experiencing the Glory of Jesus, the apparition of Moses and Elijah (Sidenote: How did the disciples know who the men were?? Pretty sure there weren’t photos of them floating around…), and the audible voice of God Himself, Peter would still go on to deny Jesus not long after this moment.

He was becoming, but hadn’t fully become. And before we get all judge-y with Peter, we have to take a good look at ourselves and our propensity to do the same thing… I haven’t been on a mountain with the person of Jesus. Haven’t seen the Glory-light all around Him or seen long-dead prophets in my midst. I haven’t heard the voice of God descend in a cloud right next to me. But I have experienced the power of the Holy Spirit speaking to me, in me, through me. I have seen miracles. I have been in moments of worship so sweet that they can only be explained as the merging of heaven and earth. I have experienced the person of Jesus in the love and forgiveness of a friend. I have been shattered to my core over things that didn’t used to matter to my heart-but now, somehow, they do. And I have heard through God’s Word, through the voice of others that Jesus has used as His mouthpiece, and through the voice of the Holy Spirit Himself, my new name and identity called out. And I have left those moments certain that I will walk in the fullness of all that He says I am… only to find myself tangled up in the grave clothes of my old identity the very next hour/day/week/month. I wish it wasn’t that way. But, like Peter, I am becoming. We don’t step into the fullness of our identity in Christ in a moment. It’s a process. And it’s one that Jesus Himself patiently and purposely makes accommodations for. Let me explain that very large assertion…

Luke 22:31-34:

“Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift each of you like wheat. But I have pleaded in prayer for you, Simon, that your faith should not fail. So when you have repented and turned to me again, strengthen your brothers.” Peter said, “Lord, I am ready to go to prison with you, and even to die with you.” But Jesus said, “Peter, let me tell you something. Before the rooster crows tomorrow morning, you will deny three times that you even know me.”

Jesus speaks lovingly to Peter here. He calls him “Simon” again, and repeats it twice, implying tenderness. He speaks to his old identity, the one that hasn’t yet been fully transformed, and tells him that he will go through some hard things. He knows what the trial will do to him, how it will break him, and he exhorts him to strengthen the others after he comes through the sifting. When Peter makes yet another grandiose statement of faith, one he’s not quite ready to fulfill, Jesus speaks to the identity that is forming. He responds to his statement by calling him “Peter” again, and by telling him what he would do in the coming hours. Jesus knows that the journey from Simon to Peter will be painful, but that it is necessary. And he tells Peter here that he knows what he will do, a grace that is so kind… Because later, in the moments when shame could try to steal the identity that Jesus will restore him to, he can be assured that even though Jesus knew in advance what would happen, he was not disqualified because of his denial. The sweetness of Jesus, His kindness in this moment, is so beautiful. I want to say as David did in 2 Samuel 7:19, “… Is this your usual way of dealing with men, O LORD God?” And, yeah, it is His way. There were pieces of Peter’s old identity that would have to die before his new identity could be fully realized. And the same is true for us…

Peter went on to fulfill the words Jesus had spoken. He denied His Lord and friend three times. And then Jesus was crucified. The weight of the brokenness that Peter must have felt in the days that followed… the hopelessness, the shame… Only Jesus knew that this deconstruction was necessary for Peter to become all that He had created him to be.

Sometime during the forty days after the resurrection of Jesus, we find the beautiful story of Him cooking breakfast for His disciples on the beach. It is in the midst of this story in John 21:15-19 that we find the reinstatement of Peter. During the conversation between Jesus and Peter, Jesus asks him three times, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Jesus never calls him Peter during this conversation. Only Simon son of John. As he converses with Simon son of John-all that he could ever be in his human efforts, Jesus brings healing to the open wounds of shame. As He draws him into fully committed surrender and into his calling and true identity, the Healer seals the wounds. He seals them into scars–marks that would serve as a reminder of the journey, but also serve as evidence that a Healer exists. We see Simon give himself to the “fully committed surrender” that Beau talked about on Sunday in the way he responds to Jesus’ questions. Gone are the grandiose statements and declarations of faith. By the third response, we see Peter emerge where Simon had stood. We see him rely not on himself, but rather on the Lordship of Jesus. In verse 17, he responds, “Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you”. Here, Peter throws himself on the truth that Jesus knows his heart. He didn’t need to say anything else. It was in this place of humility that Simon was healed, changed and grown into all that Jesus always intended-and knew-he would be. We can see this in the text–not because Jesus begins to call him Peter at this point in the conversation, because he doesn’t. He only refers to him as Simon son of John during this exchange. But we see it because the gospel writer, John, who recorded this exchange, does call him by his new name. Throughout the book of John, the writer refers to our guy as “Simon Peter”. It’s how he refers to him at the very beginning of this conversation in verse 15. But by the third time Jesus asks the question, John calls him Peter. And from that point on, throughout the whole of the New Testament, he is known as simply, “Peter” by everyone who wrote about him, except for one instance where he himself introduces himself as Simon Peter. He was finally living into his true identity…

As Peter writes some his last recorded words later, we see the impact that witnessing the transfiguration of Jesus, the confirmation of Him as the Son of God, had on him. He wants us all to remember, implores us all to remember the truth of who Jesus is as our Savior, the reality of His power and His majesty. He knew personally the saving power of Jesus and the power of restoration. That is evident in these words that were written not long before the words he wrote about the transfiguration:

And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. (1 Peter 5:10)

Peter wants us to remember who Jesus is–but he also wants us to know that He restores those He calls. He says it confidently because he experienced it himself. And through the deconstruction process and the re-construction that followed, he became in his last words what Jesus had told him he would be in His first words to Simon–he became Peter, the rock on which Jesus would build His church.

–Laura

I agree with everything that Laura wrote above. Through Peter’s story we see the kindness of God. Through Peter’s story we see that we are loved while we are still “becoming”. Through Peter’s story we see the beauty of the grace of Jesus.

I have always loved the way that Jesus reinstated Peter. I have always loved the way that Jesus told Mary Magdalene to go tell the disciples and Peter, that he was alive (Mark 16:17). Jesus was making it perfectly clear that Peter’s life, Peter’s call, Peter’s future, Peter’s journey was not over. He had not “sinned” himself out of God’s kingdom. Neither have you. Peter still belonged. He was part of the family of God forever. Someone needs to hear that. If you are in Christ, you are part of the family. Jesus has his heart and his arms open to you–always.

I have also always marveled at the way Peter’s life changes drastically from the time he was called out of his fishing boat, through the season of betrayal, the beginning of the early church and for the rest of his life.

The Bible  lets us know how the transformation happened.  According to Acts 1, we know that after Jesus ascended Peter was together with the disciples and others in an upper room in Jerusalem. In Acts 2 we learn that the Holy Spirit fell like fire on those who had been praying together in that room, and we know from that moment on that life was never the same. Peter, full of the Holy Spirit preached a sermon in the street and three thousand people came into relationship with Christ as a result. This is the same Peter that fifty or so days earlier had denied Jesus in order to save his own skin.

The book of Acts also reveals the times that Peter was arrested for the sake of proclaiming Jesus, yet he continued to preach Jesus. He continued to be bold. He became a pillar in the early church. He was a new creation in Christ. He had been born again–and his new life was unstoppable.

When Peter wrote his second letter he was writing from his own experience when he said: His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. (1:3)

Peter knew that the Holy Spirit within him was empowering him to carry the light of Jesus wherever he went.   Sometimes I’m concerned that today’s Jesus followers don’t realize that the power of Jesus through the Holy Spirit is as accessible to us as it was to Peter. Our lives don’t have to be mundane. The same power that raised Jesus from the dead lives in us. (Romans 6:10-11)

Peter lived from that power source and was instrumental in introducing thousands of people to Jesus and ushering in the kingdom of heaven on earth. We can do that toonot in our own strength, but in the power of the Holy Spirit. It’s the plan of Jesus.

I find it so interesting that Peter, who Jesus called “the rock” upon which he would build his church, wrote in his first letter:

“As you come to him, the living Stone—rejected by humans but chosen by God and precious to him— you also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ. For in Scripture it says: “See, I lay a stone in Zion, a chosen and precious cornerstone, and the one who trusts in him will never be put to shame.”” (1st Peter 2:4-6)

Peter knew The Rock from which he had been chiseled, and he knew that his life, his personal “rock”, was one of the “living stones” building the kingdom of God. If you know Jesus, you too are a living stone–a living stone and hopefully a stone gatherer. There is no size limit on God’s spiritual house. Are we tapping into the Holy Spirit’s power so that we can live godly lives and bring others in?

Peter became unstoppable because he surrendered to the power of the Holy Spirit. But he was committed for the long haul because he had memories and moments with Jesus that were undeniable. His personal encounters helped carry him.

He says in 2 Peter:

 We did not follow cleverly devised stories when we told you about the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ in power, but we were eyewitnesses of his majesty.  He received honor and glory from God the Father when the voice came to him from the Majestic Glory, saying, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.” We ourselves heard this voice that came from heaven when we were with him on the sacred mountain. (1:16-18)

Peter remembered being on the mountain where Jesus was transfigured, where Peter saw Elijah and Moses, where Peter blurted and God shushed him and identified Jesus as His son. Peter remembered his life changing “Jesus moments”.

When Peter wrote his second letter he knew he was getting close to death. He was in Rome under Nero’s rule. Scholars say that Peter was crucified in 68 A.D, meaning he was still on fire for Jesus 35 years after Jesus had ascended. 35 years of following Jesus in an empire that was hostile to the Jesus movement. 35 years of persecution. And 35 years of incredible joy as the early church grew and spread throughout their region. His personal encounters with Jesus, and his surrendering to the power of the Holy Spirit were so significant we still read about him more than two thousand years later. He didn’t know that would be the case. He only knew that he had a Savior, a Friend, a Redeemer whom he loved. He only knew that he had received the gift of the Holy Spirit. He only knew that he wanted others to know this Jesus who loved him so well and changed his life. He knew the one thing that matters.

Take some time to sit and remember the moments that Jesus has made himself real to you. Remember your story. Remember His goodness to you. Remember the life changing encounters…the “I’ll never be the same” moments.

And remember that because you know Him, you have His divine power in you which provides all that you need to change this world.

I promise you that your personal story with Jesus and the power of the Holy Spirit are all you need to bring others into the kingdom.

Words have power…last words carry weight…may all our words be infused with life and love for Jesus’ sake.

–Luanne

 

 

Hold On: Habakkuk 3

In week one of this series, Pastor John encouraged us to hold on to hope. In week two, we learned about how to hold on in the waiting. In the third and final installment of this series, it was all about Who we’re holding on to.

Habakkuk, whose very name means to embrace or wrestle with, to hold on, sets the third chapter of his book to music. The whole chapter is a song, a heart cry to his God. Have you ever sung your heart out to God? As Habakkuk sings his prayer-or prays his song-however you want to look at it (I personally believe prayer and worship are synonymous…), he is also spurring his own soul to remember.  As he wrestles with the coming destruction of his people, he does two things. Luanne wrote about the first in last week”s blog. He chose wisely in the waiting. Luanne wrote:

“Habakkuk, he climbed up on a wall to get a new perspective. He knew that even in the hard stuff, God was at work. He chose to look for Him, to look to Him, to trust Him. He recognized the violence and injustice of his own people, he knew that an enemy that was violent and unjust was coming their way to wipe them out, and he chose to trust God.”

And in this week’s passage, he remembers. These are some pieces of his prayer, his song:

“Lord, I have heard of your fame; I stand in awe of your deeds, O Lord. Renew them in our day, in our time make them known; in wrath remember mercy… God came… His glory covered the heavens and his praise filled the earth. His splendor was like the sunrise; rays flashed from his hand, where his power was hidden… He stood, and shook the earth; he looked, and made the nations tremble… His ways are eternal… Sun and moon stood still in the heavens… You came out to deliver your people, to save your anointed one…” (Habakkuk 3:2-13, NIV, selected verses)

After Habakkuk recalls where and how he has seen God move in the past, he finds himself overwhelmed… and resolute.

“I trembled inside when I heard this; my lips quivered with fear. My legs gave way beneath me, and I shook in terror. I will wait quietly for the coming day when disaster will strike the people who invade us. Even though the fig trees have no blossoms, and there are no grapes on the vines; even though the olive crop fails, and the fields lie empty and barren; even though the flocks die in the fields, and the cattle barns are empty, yet I will rejoice in the Lord! I will be joyful in the God of my salvation! The Sovereign Lord is my strength! He makes me as surefooted as a deer, able to tread upon the heights.” (Habakkuk 3:16-19 NLT)

Have you ever found yourself in a season so dark that you had to borrow light from the past in order to move forward? Have you ever heard a message that plunged you into the depths of despair, to a place so terrifying that you had to consult your memories in order to find any hope at all?

I’ve received messages like that… As a little girl, there was the news that my daddy was moving out-it ushered in the dark… The message that my baby might not survive did the same… The news that what I thought I was called to do was no longer an option for me-the stripping of what turned out to be a false identity-brought in an entirely different type of darkness…The relayed message that my little girl had been bitten by a rattlesnake while her dad and I were 1,100 miles away… A doctor telling me through sad eyes that my mama was terminal and our time with her was very short blocked the light, too…

These are a few of the dark-inducing messages that have come into my life. Yours might be different. Maybe you were told you couldn’t have the children you long for. Or that your precious unborn child no longer had a heartbeat… Maybe your message came in the form of an incurable illness. Or it could have been carried on papers you were served, informing you that your marriage was over. Perhaps it came in the form of a dismissal, a pink slip, a foreclosure notice. It could be that phone call that informed you of an unexpected deployment, or the one that came from the jail where your child was being held. It could be an admission, a confession, news that your child has been abused, or any number of other heart-stopping things. We receive endless messages over the course of our lives. And we can’t escape the hard ones, not one of us can.

When these messages come, they carry the terrifying tune of destruction, not at all unlike the message Habakkuk received from God. But Pastor John told us on Sunday that our passage describes both destruction AND deliverance. It’s easy to find the destruction. The book of Habakkuk tells of the destruction that would come upon his people as well as the eventual destruction of their oppressors. The deliverance, however, is found in the remembering. Habakkuk’s firm, resolute proclamation at the end of chapter 3 is made before any of the destruction or the deliverance actually happens… 

How did he get there? How can we get there?

We get there by going back. Back to where we’ve seen God move before. When the road before us is dark and foreboding and hopeless, we have to look back. We have to remember when God showed up. When we first fixed our eyes on the one who has always had His eyes on us. When we can look back and remember, we see again the extravagant length our God is willing to go to deliver us–and we can find a sliver of light to shine on our dark path, a reason to hope. Not hope for our enemy’s destruction, hope in the Deliverer who is completely for us. We are His priority. We want Him to act amidst the circumstances around us… He wants to do the work within us. Several months back, I wrote a little about the desire for deliverance versus desiring the Deliverer… Here is a bit of my own wrestling, and what Jesus showed me then…

“I have been asking Jesus to enter into the chaos around and within me. I have been praying that way-it made sense to me.

Enter into the chaos, Jesus. Come in. Come fix it. Come get me out…

But the chaos hasn’t stopped. The churning seas continue to rage. And I have found myself discouraged, afraid, confused. I have felt unsafe and even angry.

Why won’t You come into the chaos? If You would come in, You could fix it…

…The problem was, I have been surrounded by and consumed with the chaos in my life and in the lives of those around me. He has been trying to lift my face, to implore me to just look up. If I would just lift my eyes, I would see Him standing above the churning waves. I would hear His words-words that don’t enter into the trivial and chaotic, but stand altogether seperate from and above them. And I would see His hand reaching out to me, inviting me to step out of the swirling chaos and into the realm of His Shalom…

…His very Presence brings light into darkness. I wanted Him to bring the light of His Presence into the chaos of my circumstances. He wanted to give me a different perspective. The perspective that comes when I stop staring at all that is going wrong and look into the face of all that is right. All I could see were the waves surrounding me. All I could feel was the pull of the undertow dragging me down-further and further. My eyes darted frantically around, desperate for Jesus to just show up in this place. If You were here with me, things would change, the seas would calm…

All the while, He stood above the crashing waters, extending His hand, waiting for me to look up…

Look above the chaos. Look at Me. The chaos may continue… but you don’t have to stay there. You can come up here with me. The waves still rage-but you don’t have to. Come up higher and you’ll see. You’ll see it all looks different from My perspective.”

The perspective shift that occurred when I looked up is the same one we’ll encounter by looking back and remembering. When we look back and search for the marks of His Glory throughout our stories, we will come face to face with Jesus. As we gaze back into the moments He showed up before, we’ll catch a glimpse of His face, His eyes that are fixed on us. Eyes that are full of love, acceptance, grace, forgiveness, connection…

As I write, I’m aware that we’re all in different places. Maybe you’ve never encountered Jesus. Maybe when you look back, you don’t see any hope, or any light at all. If that’s your story, my prayer is that today will be the day you’ll look back on in the future, a day clearly marked by the Glory of God and His love for you, the beginning of the rest of your story. Or maybe you do know Jesus, and you can recall times when He’s shown up in your life. But when you picture His face, His eyes don’t look at all like what I’ve described. Maybe the eyes you see flash with anger, disappointment, condemnation… If that’s what you see, I pray for a divine interruption to come your way–that the God who made you and loves you and delivers you will reveal the truth of who He is and His affection toward you. I pray that today will be a defining moment for you as well-a day marked with a deeper connection and the beginning of the most beautiful love story.

And for all of us, I pray that we’ll make the choice to wait in hope, and to remember. That at the end of the day, regardless of the messages each of our stories contain, we can stand resolutely and declare, as Habakkuk did,

Even though the fig trees have no blossoms, and there are no grapes on the vines; even though the olive crop fails, and the fields lie empty and barren; even though the flocks die in the fields, and the cattle barns are empty, yet I will rejoice in the Lord! I will be joyful in the God of my salvation! The Sovereign Lord is my strength!”

–Laura

Laura wrote: The book of Habakkuk tells of the destruction that would come upon his people as well as the eventual destruction of their oppressors. The deliverance, however, is found in the remembering. Habakkuk’s firm, resolute proclamation at the end of chapter 3 is made before any of the destruction or the deliverance actually happens…

Even though the fig trees have no blossoms, and there are no grapes on the vines; even though the olive crop fails, and the fields lie empty and barren; even though the flocks die in the fields, and the cattle barns are empty, YET I will rejoice in the Lord! I will be joyful in the God of my salvation! The Sovereign Lord is my strength!” (Hab. 3:17-18)

That little word yet… Habakkuk’s use of that little, powerful, three letter word leads us to the greatest lesson the book— Habakkuk does not put his head in the sand and pretend like calamity is not coming. He knows that it is. He doesn’t try to pretend like  he’s devoid of fear—he acknowledges my heart pounded, my lips quivered at the sound; decay crept into my bones, and my legs trembled.(3:16) YET… 

And, as Laura highlighted above, it’s remembering who God is and what He’s done in the past that gives Habakkuk the assurance that God is strong, that God is sovereign, that God is at work, that God can be trusted, that God is still worthy of praise, and that deliverance will come.  Hindsight is huge.

Do we remember that the pivotal point of our faith, our deliverance, happened through devastation and destruction? We have the benefit of hindsight, but for a moment, try to put yourself in the midst of Jesus’ closest friends and followers during the twenty four hours of Jesus’ life that ended with his crucifixion. Turn on your imagination for a moment, and set yourself in the scene.

Picture yourself at the Passover meal with your closest friends. Imagine settling into the familiar and beloved Passover script, remembering God’s powerful deliverance in the days of Moses. Imagine your interest being piqued when Jesus took a detour from the normal script and began talking about the bread being His body broken for them, and the wine His blood poured out establishing the new covenant between God and His people.

In this setting, you have no idea what is coming in a few short hours, yet Jesus says to you: do this in remembrance of me. Are you confused? Are you intrigued? Are you thinking this is another parable that’s difficult to understand?

Imagine going to the garden and watching Jesus pull away. If you manage to stay awake, what are you thinking as He wrestles with the Father–as He implores the Father to let the cup pass from Him– as He feels all the emotions of the coming calamity?  What goes through your mind as He ultimately surrenders to the Father’s will?

What do you feel when Judas comes with the religious leaders and Roman soldiers? What is going through your head at the unjust , crazy, false accusation trials that take place under the cover of night? How do you feel when Pilate declares that Jesus is to be crucified? Are you still around, or have you run away because you are afraid? What are you feeling at the horrors of the beating, and the cruelty of the crucifixion? Can you imagine what that felt like to His followers?  Would you have lost your hope? Would you have forgotten in that moment God’s miraculous past deliverance that you had been celebrating a few hours before? Would your “yet” have been–I know that God will still deliver and I will praise Him–or would you have run and hidden thinking that this was the end?

It wasn’t the end, and on the third day, everything for all time changed. Jesus rose again—fellowshipped again with His friends. A short while later He ascended to heaven, and sent the Holy Spirit, just like He said He would. (Acts 1&2). His followers were changed, empowered, fearless and lived in the hope of future deliverance, so much so that they very literally gave their lives for the Kingdom of God.

Hebrews chapter 11 ends by highlighting some of the nameless martyrs by saying: Some faced jeers and flogging, while still others were chained and put in prison. They were stoned, they were sawed in two, they were put to death by the sword, they went about in sheepskins and goat skins, destitute, persecuted and mistreated, the world was not worthy of them…. These were all commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had been promised. God had planned something better for us…  These followers lived in the yet. They held on, knowing that God was worthy and deliverance was coming.

These were all commended for their faith—As. Is. Habakkuk. Calamity was coming. It was going to be awful, YET he chose to remember who God is, what He’d done in the past, and gain hope for the future. 

We can make the same choice. We can remember the day that appeared like total disaster to Jesus’ closest friends was God’s sovereign plan for our ultimate deliverance.  Jesus says to us—remember. He tells us in this world you will have trouble, but take heart, I have overcome the world. (Jn 16:33)

We don’t have to deny the feelings when these hard seasons come. We don’t have to pretend like we’re not wrestling when these hard seasons come. AND we don’t have to be hopeless when these hard seasons come.

 …you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again… (1 Thess. 4:13b-14a)

We have a good Father who is for us. Have you resolutely chosen to trust Him no matter what? Do you have your yet firmly in place? Are you determined to remember all that He has done and hold on to Him? Ultimate deliverance is certain for those who know Jesus. Do you know Him?

—Luanne

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.  (Romans 15:13)

Image result for YET i will rejoice