Thus says the Lord: “Heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool; what is the house that you would build for me, and what is the place of my rest?… But this is the one to whom I will look: he who is humble and contrite in spirit and trembles at my word. (Isaiah 66:1,2)
As the book of Isaiah draws to a close, the almighty God reminds us that he’s not so interested in any temples we could build for him. Instead he’s at home with those who who don’t have it all together, who have a boatload of regrets, and take what God has to say seriously.
Sounds simple enough, until I realize I typically do the opposite. I tend to be prideful, get defensive, make excuses, and treat God’s word lightly. Why is it so easy to get so far off track?
For some reason, there’s a desire to impress others, and that includes God. I’m doing a good job, I’m staying out of trouble, and I’ve got my favorite bible verses. Not much humility, contrition, or trembling.
What a great reminder that God is a lot bigger than me and my little world. Compared to the heavens and the earth (meaning everything), I don’t amount to much. But he cares a lot about me anyway, enough to remind me to fear, love, and trust him over and above anything else.
Once the walls of Jerusalem were repaired, Ezra publicly reads the scriptures (the Book of the Law of Moses: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy) to a crowd gathered at the Water Gate. It was an emotional moment. “All the people wept as they heard the words of the Law” (Nehemiah 8:9).
I’m curious. When’s the last time you wept when you heard God’s word. How often do tears run down your cheeks during your morning devotion? Look around on Sunday morning. How many are weeping in church while scripture is read?
Why was this such an emotional moment in Jerusalem?
It’s been a long time since the last reading of scripture. These people have been in exile in Babylon for seventy years. Some in the crowd may have never heard God’s word before. The last time it was read may have been during Josiah’s reign in Judah, before the destruction of Jerusalem, nearly one hundred years ago. When King Josiah heard the words of a scroll they found when cleaning up the temple, he torn his clothes in grief and repentance, too (2 Chronicles 34).
When the word became flesh in the person of Jesus, some were brought to tears. A woman forgiven much would wet Jesus’ feet with her tears (Luke 7:38). Peter would weep bitterly after denying his Lord. Paul would write about admonishing the people in Ephesus with tears in his eyes (Acts 20:31). He wept as he wrote to the the church in Corinth (2 Corinthians 2:4). An encounter with the Lord who comes with great love can make us very aware of our great sin, which should touch our hearts in some way.
Apparently there was a little too much weeping as Ezra read. Nehemiah, Ezra, and the scribe had to tell everyone to cut it out. “Quit sobbing!” It’s a holy day, a “holiday,” and that calls for eating, drinking, and rejoicing. There is a time to weep, and a time to laugh” (Ecclesiastes 3:4). Plus, “The joy of the Lord is your strength” (Nehemiah 8:10).
Let’s circle back. When’s the last time you saw smiles and heard laughter when God’s word was read? Look around on Sunday morning. Is anyone filled with joy when the Lord speaks? Is anyone grinning or chuckling?
Why not? Okay, here’s a challenge. Let’s make an effort to respond to God’ word with tears of repentance or shouts of joy. I’m not talking about the sermon. Any preacher can stir emotions with stories and examples. If the reader stops and says, “Hey, can you tone it down a little,” you’re doing it right!
“Scenes from the passion” Lent devotion for Monday, March 29, 2021. Photo by David Beale on Unsplash.
And at the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mk 15:34)
What do you pray when God feels far away? What do you say to him when everything hurts? What words do you use when you can’t find the words to express your doubts, fears, despair and pain?
The good news is that you don’t have to come up with any words. You can use his. You can let God’s words be your prayer. That’s what Jesus does. In the most painful, darkest, loneliest moment imaginable, Jesus speaks the words of Psalm 22, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Psalm 22:1). Maybe he kept going, just in not so loud a voice, “Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning?”
We do that all the time. We say, “Our Father, who art in heaven…” the very prayer Jesus taught his disciples. We pray, “Come, Lord Jesus” from Revelation. We borrow the prayer of so many in scripture who said, “Lord, have mercy.”
Praying God’s word is an important reminder that prayer is a conversation. It is a conversation initiated by God. He speaks to us in his word, prompting our response to his powerful, living and active promises, lessons, songs and instructions.
As the very first families began to grow, “people began to call on the name of the Lord” (Genesis 4:26). The fabric of life has always included worship, prayer and praise. It was very much a part of Jesus’ life, too. When he was conceived, his mother sang a song of praise. When he was born, the angels sang. He grew up singing Sabbath psalms at home and festival psalms at Passover. He may have been singing one of them as he hung on the cross.
When we (or Jesus) pray the very words of God, it reminds us that God is not far away at all. When his word is in our heart and in our mouth (Deut. 30:14; Romans 10:8), he is still the one giving us life and breath and everything else we need to live at that very moment. We don’t have to go anywhere to find his presence. He comes to be with us. The Word became flesh to dwell among us. And he promised to never leave. Simply speak his word, and there he is, inhabiting our praises, keeping our way pure, lighting our path, and giving us life.
Heavenly Father, don’t leave me. Fill my songs, prayers and life with your word. Amen.
And [the Lord] said [to Elijah], “Go out and stand on the mount before the Lord.” And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind tore the mountains and broke in pieces the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. And after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire the sound of a low whisper. (1 Kings 19:11-12)
I have long been fascinated by this moment in the prophet Elijah’s life. He’s ready to give up and pack it in. He’s not just ready to retire. He wants to die. God’s says, “I want to talk to you. Climb up that mountain over there.”
Then, rather than manifesting himself in a tornado, earthquake or wildfire, God speaks in a low whisper. The literal words are a “thin silence.” So I’ve been wondering, would I rather hear God shout or whisper?
On the one hand, God’s powerful entrances are traumatic. When God finally shows up to answer Job’s questions, he speaks from a whirlwind (Job 38:1). Suddenly, Job doesn’t have any more questions (Job 40:5)! When the earth literally shook at the base of Mt. Sinai because of the presence of God, the entire nation backed away (Exodus 20:18). When the people were bemoaning their life in the desert, the fire of God began to consume the outskirts of their camp (Numbers 11:1).
On the other hand, the power of God is transformative and empowering. When the sound of a mighty rushing wind and tongues of fire accompanied the arrival of God’s Spirit, the apostles suddenly became bible translators, preaching in the language of the international crowd in Jerusalem (Acts 2:1-4). When the early church prayed, the house shook as the Spirit gave them the boldness to keep speaking about Jesus (Acts 4:31). In the extra hot fiery furnace, Daniel’s three friends were joined by the Son of God rather than being consumed (Daniel 3:19-25).
When our children were still at home, there were moments when I would raise my voice and they (or my wife) would say, “Don’t yell!” So I would turn up the volume and reply, “I haven’t even started to yell yet!” That’s when they would put their hands over their ears.
Yes, there are times when God needs to get my attention. Turn up the volume a little. Even yell. Because I’m not really listening. I might even have my hands over my ears.
Yet there are other times when I’ll say, “What was that, God? Say that again. I’m having a hard time hearing you.”
If God is in whisper mode, you have to pay attention. Listening is hard. You have to stop talking, turn off your mind, get rid of distractions, and let the Scriptures speak. Read slowly, deliberately, without a goal or an agenda. Read out loud. Read it like it was the first time you’ve ever gazed at those words. Imagine you are there when the events happened, the words were first spoken, or when they were first heard. Don’t listen to respond. Listen to what He’s saying.
Though God reveals himself in many powerful ways, he chooses to reveal himself, his love, his grace, and our future through word. Words I understand, words I can remember, words I can repeat. If a whisper gets me to listen, all the better.
Throughout the Bible, whenever God speak to people, they understand him. Adam: “Where are you?” Noah: “Build a boat.” Abram: “Leave…go…a great nation.” All the prophets. God spoke in their language. They may not have liked it, but they got it.
But now, we have to translate God’s word into the language of the people, so they can understand. Why is that? At Pentecost, everyone from all over the world heard and understood the word spoken by the disciples. After that, it gets more complicated.
It took a long time, and a lot of sweat and tears to learn Greek and Hebrew, so I could read, hear and understand God in the original languages. But even with a wide variety of English translations, I still struggle to figure out what God is talking about. Why is it so hard now?
Some possibilities: God spoke to fewer people back then. Like one at a time. God spoke to one nation. Israel. God spoke through one person: Jesus. Now, since Pentecost, the word has been unleashed in the world and for the world and for me.
Waite for it... 