Posted in Through the Bible Devotions

Why are you so upset?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Andre Hunter on Unsplash

When I get to Genesis 4, I have so many questions.

  • What was wrong with Cain’s offering?
  • Why was Cain so angry? (Even the Lord asks, “Why are you angry?”)
  • Was Cain angry at God or at his brother Abel?
  • Why did Cain’s anger escalate to murder? Did he set out to kill his brother? Or did his anger get out of control?

I’ve got three clues from scripture to help me understand.

“By faith Abel brought God a better offering than Cain did” (Hebrews 11:4).

“Do not be like Cain, who belonged to the evil one and murdered his brother. And why did he murder him? Because his own actions were evil and his brother’s were righteous” (1 John 3:12).

“Woe to [these ungodly people]! They have taken the way of Cain; they have rushed for profit into Balaam’s error; they have been destroyed in Korah’s rebellion” (Jude 11).

So Cain had more than just anger issues. He rejected God. His response both to the Lord and Abel stemmed from unbelief. Cain is numbered with Balaam and Korah, who foolish rebelled against God.

The first sin is disobeying God’s instruction, “You must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil” (Genesis 2:17). From there, things progress from bad to worse. The next recorded sin is murder. No wonder Cain’s offering was unacceptable. His life was on a trajectory away from God. “Without faith it is impossible to please God” (Hebrews 11:6).

Every Old Testament sacrifice pointed to Christ, the sacrifice for sin. If worship is about you rather than him, you’re missing the point.

Posted in Through the Bible Devotions

Good and evil

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Dominik Van Opdenbosch on Unsplash

The Lord God commanded the man, “You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat from it you will certainly die” (Genesis 2:16).

When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it (3:6).

We’re not adept at discerning good and evil. Things that feel good, look good, smell good, and taste good aren’t necessarily good for us. Plus, it’s an ever-changing standard. Things that used to be good for us turned out to be bad, and vice versa. Eggs used to be bad. Now we need them for essential fats. Butter used to be bad. But then we discovered that substitutes like margerine were worse. Coffee? That’s like the weather. Good one day, bad the next. Some cut salt out of their diet only to discover their sodium levels are dangerously low.

People who dress nicely and command respect aren’t always good people. Those who look a little rough around the edges turn out to be the nicest people you’ve ever met.

And then there’s the assumption that if something is good for us, more of that will be even better. Most of the time, that’s not true. Too much of a good dose might just be harmful to your health, if not lethal.

The knowledge of good and evil takes us down a rabbit hole of trying to figure out things that are far beyond our understanding rather than trusting God to point or lead us in the right direction. We usually get it wrong. And God knew that this would only result in suffering, death, and separation from him.

God wasn’t surprised by their disobedience. He knew about the tempter, the temptation, the disobedience, and the consequences. The need and his plan for a Savior was in place before creation (Ephesians 1).

As Jesus would later say, “There is only one who is good” (Matthew 19:17). We don’t have to figure it out. He’s the one.

Posted in Through the Bible Devotions

Who are you talking to?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Image by Surprising_Media from Pixabay

“And God said…” (Genesis 1:3)

Who is God talking to?

“The earth was formless and empty” (1:2). There’s no one else around.

Who is he talking to?

I daily walk by people who seem to be talking to themselves. But then I see their AirPods or ear buds and realize they are talking to someone on the phone.

Others aren’t on the phone. But they still have much to say to someone (or someones) living in their mind. You know, that little voice that won’t shut up.

Or they are talking to themselves, just as we do sometimes. I’ll tell myself to keep quiet, keep walking, just listen, let it go, ignore them, just smile, be kind, take a breath, etc. You know what I mean.

On the one hand, you could say God is talking to himself. A triune God is never wanting for some to talk with.

On the other hand, God doesn’t make small talk. When he speaks, something happens. In the verses to follow, God speaks and there’s light, sky, land, plants, fish, birds, and animals. His word is creative. God can speak to nothing at all and suddenly something exists.

So if you talk to yourself, it’s okay. Just think of it as being created in the image of God. Or being like Jesus, by whom and through whom all things were made.

Or maybe you’ve got one of those voices that makes things happen. You motivate and encourage. You teach and explain. You persuade and lead. The world is different, better after you’ve spoken.

For six weeks during Covid isolation I preached sermons to an iphone on a tripod. I felt like I was talking to no one. Or simply to myself. It was a very strange feeling. I have no idea who heard my words. That feels like such a long time ago.

What happens when someone speaks God’s word?

Posted in Easter

Bunnies

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I know it’s not not the main thing but I’ve never known an Easter where the bunny hasn’t been a major player. Having said that, I was surprised to see more bunnies on my walk this morning than ever. I thought they would all have the day off.

So the question is, how did the Easter bunny get a leading part in the celebration?

From what I’ve read, both hares and eggs were old Germanic symbols of fertility and new life. When the Christian celebration of Easter replaced pagan spring festivals, it absorbed those symbols. An egg breaks open to reveal new life, just as Jesus’s resurrection broke the power of death to give believers new, eternal life.

Somehow, the story evolved so that bunnies brought eggs, candy, and toys to the nests, and eventually baskets, of well-behaved children. I remember dying real hard-boiled eggs for Easter. But those have mostly given way to a wide variety of egg-shaped jelly beans, chocolate eggs, candy-filled plastic eggs, speckled egg-shaped malted milk balls, and every sort of candy you can imagine. And who doesn’t love chocolate bunnies, filled with marshmallow, peanut butter, or creme fillings?

And the bunny? He was alive and well when I was in Texas last week. This one wasn’t as creepy as most. And I’ll bet he got the day after Easter off, too.

Posted in dogs

Zig-zagging through the neighborhood

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Klim Musalimov on Unsplash

We (my Great Dane and I) see her most mornings. A woman, probably in her seventies, walks her small dog (maybe a miniature schnauzer?) on a similar route through our neighborhood. I can see by the still-lit street lights that she’s wearing a yellow zip hoodie and a baseball cap.

She’s usually talking. She’s talking to herself, the dog, or someone on her phone. It’s hard to tell. We always say, “Good morning” to each other as we pass. Or an appropriate seasonal greeting like, “Happy New Year.”

Even though it’s still dark, I can tell she’s approaching from fifty yards down the road. She never walks straight down the other side of the street. She zig-zags from one side of the street to the other. I assume this is her way of getting in twice the distance or double the steps on her daily walk. More bang for the buck, right?

Until she sees us. Then she passes by on the other side, a safe distance from the beast at my side. The little dog acts like we’re not there. The big dog always wants a closer sniff. But we’re not doing that today, or any day for that matter.

I’d never thought of the zig-zag strategy for packing in more miles. I can picture my dog walking down the center of the road, letting me zig-zag, wondering what I’m doing.

Posted in noticing

Car headlights – a close call

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Eugene Triguba on Unsplash

I guess I was on auto-pilot. The sky was just beginning to brighten with the first bit of dawn. It’s a Saturday morning, so there’s little traffic and no school busses on the road.

I saw the headlights. I figured the car would be rounding the corner. But the speed was too fast. The driver came into the curve too wide. The lights came right at me and I knew I better step back. The Great Dane and I stepped a few feet onto someone’s lawn as the car continued right towards us.

It was a close call. The driver barely made the turn. The car clipped the lawn before swerving into the center of the road.

Yeah, I shouted, “Hey!” but I doubt he or she heard me. Whoever was no doubt on getting home from an overnight shift at work. Or focused on their phone. Or zoned out. Or whatever.

I’ll bet they weren’t as startled as I was. They may not even have seen me. They aren’t writing about their close car. Just me.

Most people don’t notice what’s going on around them. They are absorbed in their devices, their tasks, or their worries.

It’s a good thing I notice them.

Posted in holy week, Jesus

Some Good Friday thoughts

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Paul Keiffer on Unsplash

I’m going to ramble a bit on this Good Friday. My mind is filled with an assortment of thoughts and memories.

First, I doubt that many, if any, of us can imagine what Jesus suffered at the hands of the priests and the Roman soldiers. The physical violence started with the high priest, teachers of the law, and elders who punched and slapped Jesus. After Pilate handed Jesus over the to the soldiers, they beat him with a staff, flogged him, put a crown of thorns on his head, drove nails through his hands, and crucified him.

When one fighter overwhelmingly beats and bloodies the other in an MMA octagon, the referee stops the fight. With Jesus they don’t stop, but dish out more and more punishment. We wince at the “little pinch” of a flu shot, make sure we’re numbed up before the dentist fills a small cavity, and groan when we get up after sitting too long. Jesus has the flesh on his back torn open with a whip, spikes driven through his hands and feet, and is left to hang by his arms to slowly suffocate . The bell never rings ending the round. There no pain relief, other than the drugged wine Jesus refused. There’s no time out. There’s no tapping out. The pain only stops when Jesus dies.

No painting, drawing, or representation of the crucifixion captures the gruesome horror of Good Friday. Crucifixion was a public execution. Some of those who saw it loved Jesus. Others hated him. I wonder if any of us could watch Christ suffer and die. I would turn away.

We gather for worship on Good Friday, at noon, in the afternoon, or in the evening. Our services are adored with beautiful music, encroaching darkness, descriptive words, and silent exits. The only reason it’s not so bad (good?) for us is because it was terrible for Jesus.

A Good Friday Tenebrae (“shadows” or “darkness”) service will conclude in darkness as the last candle is extinguished. The only way out is through the shadow of death, a valley Jesus traverses with us.

I remember my last Good Friday as a pastor because one grandson lit and another extinguished the candles, surrendering the room to the darkness. I took the huge family King James bible my mom gave us at our wedding, raised it high over my head, and slammed it down on the altar with all my might, to remind all of the stone settling into place, sealing Jesus in the tomb.

It’s a powerful worship moment. Everyone who’s been there before knows what’s going to happen. Yet everyone still gasps when it does.

That book was only called into duty once each spring. But it took a beating, the binding barely holding together when I handed it over to my son to use at his church on Good Friday.

The apostle Paul wrote, “We preach Christ crucified.” This is our message. It’s terrible. And yet it’s wonderful. It illustrates how bad we are and what we deserve. It also proclaims how much God loves us anyway.

Posted in communication, God

A message through creation

Posted on by William Douthwaite

Today’s First 15 devotion was about how God speaks through his creation. We know he speaks to us in the bible. But the bible says he speaks to us through his creation.

“For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made” (Romans 1:20).

In Psalm 147:8-9, and 15-18, scripture tells us that he sends his word to feed the animals and affect the weather.

Jesus said the birds who are fed by the heavenly Father and the flowers he beautifully clothes proclaim a powerful message: stop worrying (Matthew 6:26-30).

Today I journaled, “While there is much about God I can’t learn from creation, I can ask him, ‘What are you teaching me through creation today?'” In that sense, God has much to say through the air I breathe, the water I drink, the food I eat, the sunrise colors I see in the sky each day, and the trees that line my morning walk.

What I learned today:

  • He provides for me. I am alive because he gives me life, breath, and everything (Acts 17:25).
  • He is a creative creator. He came up with so many forms of plant and animal life that not only fit together but benefit each other.
  • He knows what will pique my interest and what will take my breath away. From colors to clouds to creatures (like singing birds), I love to walk down the streets of my neighborhood. There is always something new to notice, appreciate, and give thanks for.

There are many more messages in the starry night sky, the roaring ocean waves, gusty winds bending the trees, and pouring rain soaking you as you dash inside the house.

What are those things saying?

Posted in God, gratitude

A close call

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Usman Malik on Unsplash

My son slammed on the brakes as red tail lights suddenly stopped in front of us. We couldn’t see beyond the semi ahead, so we didn’t know what was going on. He sighed, “Great. Now what?”

My grandson in the backseat said, “I think a car bounced off the guardrail.”

As traffic slowly passed to the left, we found room to sneak by on the right.

A white sedan with a crumpled front end was turned sideways. Two other cars were stopped in back of the that car. The truck driver had already walked up to check on the driver, who stood next to the car, apparently unhurt. We crept by, just avoiding some torn-off chrome trim on the road.

I couldn’t really tell what had happened, but I was thankful for the timing. Had we been arrived a minute earlier, we might have been involved. A minute later and we’d be in standstill traffic for a while.

Anything can happen driving through Dallas on I-30. And I’m sure it does just about every day. I’m grateful we made it to Fort Worth and back.

I don’t know about you, but I often pray for safe travel for myself and others. I ask God for protection as we go about the day and while we sleep at night. I don’t notice most of the times he answers those prayers. I’m oblivious to the close calls I have. He keeps me blissfully unaware of the dangers around me.

And for that, I am thankful.