Light for the World Study Tours

Friday Prayers

lftw — Fri, 31 Aug 2007 06:40:31 +0000

      Do not put yourself forward in the king’s presence
      or stand in the place of the great;
      for it is better to be told, “Come up here,”
      than to be put lower in the presence of a noble. (Prov. 25:6-7)

Through him, then, let us continually offer a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that confess his name. Do not neglect to do good and to share what you have, for such sacrifices are pleasing to God. (Heb. 13:15-16)

¶ When he (Jesus) noticed how the guests chose the places of honor, he told them a parable. “When you are invited by someone to a wedding banquet, do not sit down at the place of honor, in case someone more distinguished than you has been invited by your host; and the host who invited both of you may come and say to you, ‘Give this person your place,’ and then in disgrace you would start to take the lowest place. But when you are invited, go and sit down at the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he may say to you, ‘Friend, move up higher’; then you will be honored in the presence of all who sit at the table with you. For all who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.” (Luke 14:7-11)

Psalm 112

¶ Praise the LORD!
      Happy are those who fear the LORD,
      who greatly delight in his commandments.
      Their descendants will be mighty in the land;
      the generation of the upright will be blessed.
      Wealth and riches are in their houses,
      and their righteousness endures forever.
      They rise in the darkness as a light for the upright;
      they are gracious, merciful, and righteous.
      It is well with those who deal generously and lend,
      who conduct their affairs with justice.
      For the righteous will never be moved;
      they will be remembered forever.
      They are not afraid of evil tidings;
      their hearts are firm, secure in the LORD.
      Their hearts are steady, they will not be afraid;
      in the end they will look in triumph on their foes.
      They have distributed freely, they have given to the poor;
      their righteousness endures forever;
      their horn is exalted in honor.
      The wicked see it and are angry;
      they gnash their teeth and melt away;
      the desire of the wicked comes to nothing.

An elder … went out to cast a demon out of someone who was possessed. The demon said to the elder, “I am going to come out, but I am going to ask you a question. Tell me, who are the goats and who are the sheep?” The old man said, “I am one of the goats, but as for the sheep, God alone knows who they are.” When he heard this, the devil began to cry out with a loud voice, “Because of your humility, I am going away,” and he departed. (The Word in the Desert)

Let us pray:

Great God of all that is Good, we bless you for your passion to make all things Good again. MAKE US GOOD AGAIN!

Righteous Ruler of every upright heart grant us true humility. Give us grace to recognize your holy image within ourselves so that we might always know to whom we are related, to whom we own our lives, to whom we are to lift our praise and prayers, to whom we are to turn in times of joy and times of sorrow, to whom we are to direct our fellows when they know times of joy and sorrow too.

Lord Jesus, put us in our place so that we might always know that at your table there is a plate and cup set for us. Put us in our place so that securely placed we may be free to invite others to come and find their plate and cup as well. Then most Holy Partier, give us the good sense to enjoy the meal set before us and the company set around us, especially your own presence as, over and over again, you humble yourself to be our host. Around your table, we rise to our feet in awe, and we stand at attention to receive your word.

Oh Lord, we are sorry that we can be so harsh in our judgments of others when you are so kind in your judgment of us. For this and all your good graces we praise and honor you with our lips and with our legs. We sing to you, we shout to you, we speak of you, and we go in your name to share your good graces with our neighbors. Go with us!

Holy Spirit, blow a chilling breath across our naked necks so that we fear God, and in fearing God, obey, and in obeying God, be blessed, and in being blessed, be a blessing. Command the demons to depart from us. Fill us with fear of you so that we are not afraid of anything or anyone else. Make us to stand up to those who stand over and against that which is Good. Make us to share and not hoard, so that we might be content with enough and not need more than our share.

May the wicked see our fear of you and be afraid. May the wicked burn out; may their anger consume them.

Lord of what lies ahead, fill our hearts with courage. Protect us from despair. May we not believe everything we hear, and not listen to everything that others believe. Give us eyes to see what is to be, and not what simply is. And seeing what is to be, give us what it is we need to partner with you in the redemption of the world.

Above all, God of all, remember the goats.

We pray in the name of Jesus and by the power of the Holy Spirit.

Amen.

HeartACHE … HeartBREAK.

lftw — Thu, 30 Aug 2007 05:12:19 +0000

I am staring at this little boy sitting in a stroller eating ice cream. He is about a year old, if I had to guess and has a small red mark on his forehead – a birthmark. I must have been staring at him rather intensely because when I look up, his mother is staring at me. I smile and say, “I’m sorry. I was just thinking of my grandson who is about your son’s age. I was imagining him eating ice cream and missing him.”

HeartACHE.

Yesterday afternoon I walked out of our apartment and onto the street. He was sitting right next to our door. He is an older man who smokes too much – most Palestinian men smoke too much. He is often sitting somewhere on the street. In summer he sits in the shade and in winter he sits in the sun. (By the way, do you know how to tell a local from a tourist? The locals walk on the shady side of the street.)

This old smoker is sitting on the shady side of this street and right next to our door. I didn’t see him at first, because I’m not looking for him to be sitting right there. He never sits there.

He is waiting for me. As I turn to walk down the street, he says, “Hello.” He has a smoker’s voice. I stop, turn around and see him. I like him. He’s a good man and I’m glad to see him. He helped me with a wiring problem once. “Hello,” I say back. “How are you?” He never looks very well.

“Not good,” he says. “Not good.”

“What is it?” I ask.

“It is my son,” he replies, voice breaking. “He is in the hospital.”

“I’m sorry, “ I say. “What’s wrong with him?”

“A soldier broke him,” he says. He is speaking Arabic and I don’t know exactly what was broken. I only understand that his son is “broke.” He hands me the doctor’s report. It is bad. I’m surprised to see that the son is only a boy – 14 years old. He has a broken hip. Three screws have been fixed to hold it in place while it heals. The report reports that the boy will always walk with a limp.

I ask the question you are asking: “What did he do?”

Smoke circles up in front of the old man’s eyes. He blinks once, again, and once more. “My son has seeing problems. He was running and he ran around a corner (he motions this to me) and into an Israeli soldier. The soldier was angry and beat my son.” That’s his story and you can believe it or not, but believe this …

HeartBREAK!

Yesterday, in an email, our daughter told us about Emma’s first bus ride. It is a trial run for kindergarten students. At the end of the ride our granddaugher gave the bus driver a high-five. I could see her doing this. I could see her eyes as she sat in the big seat — blue eyes embedded in the black vinyl. I could see her turning her head to look at the children sitting behind her and beside her. She does this with a certain anxiety, but also with the hope of finding a new friend. I could feel her little heart beating with excitement, expectation and joy. I could see all this and see exactly what I was missing.

HeartACHE!

Then later in that same day I read of two Gazan children killed by Israeli tank fire – a third is lying in a hospital bed with severe brain damage. The children are cousins, 12, 10 and 8. The two dead children are two of eight killed just this week by the Israeli army. It used to be that the Israeli government would say that they deeply regretted the loss of innocent life. But they don’t have to say this anymore because nobody notices the deaths of these children of Gaza. Those who do, don’t think of them as innocent. I think of the parents and grandparents of these children and I think …

HeartBREAK!

A heartache can be a positive moment. A heartache reminds you of someone you love and miss, but will see again, and then the joy is measurably greater for having missed that someone. A heartache can even bring a smile, as it did for me as I watched that little boy eat his ice cream and read about Emma high-fiving the bus driver.

But a heartbreak is not positive, and does not bring a smile, because a heartbreak is a fission, a tearing, ripping apart. A heartbreak is a heart broken, and a broken heart, like a broken hip, never mends completely, and always aches.

Heartache lends the hope of absence making the heart grow fonder. Heartbreak offers no such hope because the absence, is first and foremost, an absence of hope itself. My friend does not believe that his son has a future. He has no hope. The parents of the dead children know that their children have died unknown and unnoticed by most of the world. They know that these, their own flesh-and-blood, are already on the way to being forgotten by all but they, themselves. And down deep in their broken hearts, these fathers and mothers worry that one day they too will stop missing their absent children. They won’t, of course, but the fear of it remains, and even happy moments are shaded with guilt.

HeartACHE … heartBREAK. They are not the same.

Today, my aching heart lifts up to God a prayer or two for those parents and grandparents who have had their hearts broken. What I feel is not the same, not even close, but close enough to give me pause to think of someone other than myself. This too is the gift of heartache.

Take a Breath

lftw — Wed, 29 Aug 2007 05:54:35 +0000

“It’s about the children.”

Whenever Sally and I get weary in well doing, we remind one another why we are seeking to do anything at all, well or otherwise. “It’s about the children.”

This, of course, sounds all high and lifted up, doesn’t it? But the truth is that it is not high and lifted up at all, but rather lowly, all things considered. You have to stoop low in order to see eye to eye with a child. You have to get down, humble yourself. Or you have to lift up the child to adult eye level, something most children resist because it’s scary to have someone lift you off your feet. If you want to be eye to eye with a child, then you have to get down – low to behold.

And when you do get down to a child’s eye point of view, what do you see? Depends on the child’s eye through which you are viewing, doesn’t it? On any given day, I walk from Herod’s Gate to Zion’s Gate – a path that takes me from one side of the Old City of Jerusalem to the other. I wind my way through narrow streets and alleyways, and all along the way there are children. I look for the children; take special note of children. Sometimes I stop along the way and get down on my haunches and just look around. I want a child’s eye point of view, and it is fascinating just to view the views from down there. Try it today. Just stop every now and then and get down so you can see from the perspective of a child. And stay down for a while. Don’t get up too fast.

Herod’s Gate leads into the heart of the Muslim Quarter, and the way is dark and often dirty. Down low, it is darker still, and the garbage is right there in your face. The stones are old stones that show their age, and with crackled voice, cry out of tough times. The children see these stones up close. The little ones crawl on the old stones, run on them, fall on them, and the children know that these are hard stones, but also stones that have been around for a long time. These stones are stable and enduring.

When you enter the Jewish Quarter you immediately feel the difference. The way is brighter, the stones cleaner – not new, but new looking. They wear the wear well, having been bathed and brushed up for company. Everything in the Jewish Quarter is better, and yet the stones on which the Jewish children crawl and run and fall are not so different after all. The stones will out last the children, and the children seem to know this, whether they know they know or not.

These stones are stable, enduring, and comforting then, I think. I watch old men and women as they walk along these same streets – and like children they are closer to the stones than those of us who still stand straight and tall. I watch these old ones and see them looking at the stones upon which they are walking as if remembering them from when they were small.

“It’s about the children.” Therefore, if indeed it is about the children – and we’re not just saying that to be politically correct – then it’s about becoming a little more childlike. It’s not about clinging to childish ways, to remember Paul, but it is about humbling ourselves in order to get down and see the world from the lowly position of a child, especially a poor child. And then what do we see? The world is big and beautiful and hard and unyielding and like the ten spies you think everyone is a giant and even the stairs look like mountains and you need some help and encouragement and once in a while you have something to say about all of this that someone ought to get down close enough to hear. (Okay, take a breath – a big breath.) And when you get down close enough to the ground to hear what the children are saying then you will hear them talk about how frightened they are sometimes and how little they feel all the time and how eager to learn they are sometimes and how bored to death they are at other times and how much they want to climb all the mountains in order to see all that lies beyond each one and they will too if someone doesn’t tell them they can’t, but of course, someone will tell them they can’t and some children will be told this sooner than others and more often than others and so the mountains are higher for some than for others and these are the ones Sally and I want to reach out to and these are the ones Sally and I want to come down alongside of and encourage and these are the ones we want you to get down and see and love and value and encourage as well. Will you? Please.

A Story of Suffering, Silence and Hope

lftw — Tue, 28 Aug 2007 13:39:14 +0000

Some of the stories of the Bible are more personal than others. The story of Jesus healing the woman who was bent over for 18 years is one of those for me. The story was the lectionary passage for last Sunday. Attached is the sermon I wrote and preached.

¶ Now he was teaching in one of the synagogues on the Sabbath. And just then there appeared a woman with a spirit that had crippled her for eighteen years. She was bent over and was quite unable to stand up straight. When Jesus saw her, he called her over and said, “Woman, you are set free from your ailment.” When he laid his hands on her, immediately she stood up straight and began praising God. But the leader of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had cured on the Sabbath, kept saying to the crowd, “There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured, and not on the Sabbath day.” But the Lord answered him and said, “You hypocrites! Does not each of you on the Sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from the manger, and lead it away to give it water? And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years, be set free from this bondage on the Sabbath day?” When he said this, all his opponents were put to shame; and the entire crowd was rejoicing at all the wonderful things that he was doing. (Luke 13:10-17)

Click here to read the sermon … Download "A Story of Suffering …"

Friday Prayers

lftw — Fri, 24 Aug 2007 12:41:49 +0000

Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer;
you shall cry for help, and he will say, Here I am.

¶ If you remove the yoke from among you,
      the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil,
      if you offer your food to the hungry
      and satisfy the needs of the afflicted,
then your light shall rise in the darkness
      and your gloom be like the noonday. (Isaiah 58:9-14)

Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt;
      you shall raise up the foundations of many generations;
you shall be called the repairer of the breach,
      the restorer of streets to live in (Isaiah 58:12).

Psalm 103:1-8

      Bless the LORD, O my soul,
      and all that is within me,
      bless his holy name.
      Bless the LORD, O my soul,
      and do not forget all his benefits—
      who forgives all your iniquity,
      who heals all your diseases,
      who redeems your life from the Pit,
      who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy,
      who satisfies you with good as long as you live
      so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.

      ¶ The LORD works vindication
      and justice for all who are oppressed.
      He made known his ways to Moses,
      his acts to the people of Israel.
      The LORD is merciful and gracious,
      slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.

Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us give thanks, by which we offer to God an acceptable worship with reverence and awe; for indeed our God is a consuming fire (Hebrews 12 28-29).

But the Lord answered him and said, “You hypocrites! Does not each of you on the sabbath untie his ox or his donkey from the manger, and lead it away to give it water? And ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years, be set free from this bondage on the sabbath day?” (Luke 13:15-16)

Let us pray:

God of consuming fire, we light the lamp of prayer and ask for help. We bless your holy name and all the power and might connected to your name. We know only enough to call you by name, O LORD, so that you will know at least that we know that much. Isaiah reminds us that you will come to us only if we behave in a way that so merits your walking our way, and we acknowledge that we are far from that, so we bend the knee, beg your forgiveness, and cry for mercy. Come and save us from ourselves.

With menacing hands, our shaking index fingers pointing to heaven, we utter threats against the powerless, and we know you do not approve. Forgive us and come save us.

With our big bellies full of manna and quail, we do not share with the hungry. We use food and water as weapons of war, and it is the children of our enemies who suffer most. Forgive us and come save us.

Children in Gaza and the West Bank are hungry, and live in darkness and despair. Forgive us and come save us.

God, made known to us in Jesus, we call upon your name and ask you to come help us. In Jesus you forgive us; you heal our diseases; you pay the cost of our release from debtors’ prison; you surround us with steadfast love and mercy. And we forget. We forget to remember that you do these things so that we might be forever youthful and faithful and strong. We forget to remember that you do these things so that we might do the same for others. We forget to remember that we are no better or worse than those we see as less or more. You love the world, even those in the world that we do not love, or like, or think as good as we think ourselves good. We forget that you are a vengeful God who stands in the gap for ALL who are oppressed. We forget that that ALL includes ALL, even all those not chosen. We forget and we are sorry and we beg your forgiveness.

Thank you Jesus for healing that bent woman. Thank you for noticing her and loving her. Thank you for reminding us that those who suffer are your daughters and sons and that you want them whole again, and that one day you will make them whole again. Thank you because that woman is someone we know and love, and one day, she will be us.

We love you Lord. We stand in awe before you. We thank you for a kingdom come that is greater than any kingdom won or loss.

In Jesus’ name, we pray – AMEN! So BE it!

HERE I AM!

Sahara Lessons

lftw — Wed, 22 Aug 2007 04:32:11 +0000

Spent most of last week in the Sinai Desert ("sahara" in Arabic). The Sinai Desert is also referred to as the Wilderness of Sinai — and wild it is, and beautiful too, and dangerous. The wilderness is a harsh, private place. Just the kind of place where a somewhat harsh and private God might be found looking for someone to find — someone looking to be found.

We slept under the night skies, incredible sight, and stayed as close as we could to a young Egyptian Coptic Christian who loved the desert, and seemed to find God there. Actually, I think the thing about the wilderness is not that God is easier to find in the desert, but that it is easier for God to find us there. Sally said, "Man, you can see for miles, and you can be seen for miles as well." Our Bedouin driver told us that the reason Bedouin women wear black is so that they can be seen from miles away. That way, when a man sees a black object moving in the desert, he knows it is a woman and can come to help her. We thought this being seen from miles away might not always be in a woman’s best interest, but we kept our own counsel on the matter.

Some lessons:

1) If you are going to be in the desert, you had better know where to find water.
2) If you don’t know where to find water, you’d better know someone who does.
3) If you know someone who knows where to find water, follow that person.

Water is life!

I wonder if Jesus spent any time in the desert.

Holy Sounds

lftw — Tue, 21 Aug 2007 03:05:13 +0000

On any given weekend you can hear the holy sounds of this not-so-holy, holy place. Five times a day, and louder on Fridays, the Muslim call to prayer waifs across the city. On Friday nights, forty-five minutes before the sun has officially set, the Jewish shofar trumpets the call for religious Jews to begin celebrating Shabbat. And on Sunday mornings, the church bells ring – oh how the church bells ring.

The holy sounds in the not-so-holy, holy city of Jerusalem.

There is, however, such power in these sounds, so much hope and promise. Even now I can hear the Muslim call to prayer – I mean right this very minute – and think that something is happening that ought to be for the good. People are praying to their God, and in the very act of praying they are opening themselves up to the possibility of revelation and transformation. No matter that some of you reading this are thinking that this God to whom these folks are praying is no God at all, or a small “g” God, or even the devil, as I’ve heard some say – these folks are praying and they are serious about this praying, serious enough to get dirt on their foreheads as they bow to the ground. They are praying, and this cannot be bad – can it?

I just left a small group of pray-ers myself – just eleven of us – not quite enough to make a band of disciples. We prayed for this not-so-holy, holy place. We prayed for Jews and Christians and Muslims, as well as the many others who are none of the above and are in fact turned off by all of the above – which might include you! We prayed. We sang too – “Every time I feel the Spirit moving in my heart I will pray.” Didn’t sing it worth a hoot, but sing it we did.

And I guaran-dang-tee-ya that right this very minute, there are Jewish folks down at the Western Wall, and they are praying too.

Lots of holy sounds in the not-so-holy, holy city.

There is an epidemic of child abuse in the not-so-holy, holy city of Jerusalem. It is a dirty little secret, of course, and the cries of the children rise up to the ears of a holy God, the God who is attune to silent signs and growl-like groans. Are these prayers too? Is the sound of a hurting child a holy sound? Domestic violence is a scandal in the not-so-holy, holy city. Women silently scream for freedom and justice. Are these soundless wails prayers as well? Is the sound of an imprisoned spirit a holy sound?

And sometimes it seems as if God too makes sounds – creation groaning, the wind whispering God’s prayers back to us. “Remember, you were aliens too. Care for the widow, the orphan, and the stranger within your gates. Remember. Remember. Remember. Do justice. Love goodness. Walk modestly with your God.”

Lots of holy sounds. Who’s hearing what, and who’s hearing all?

Bible Study

lftw — Wed, 15 Aug 2007 05:42:00 +0000

While up on Mount Tabor, I stood by and listened to a Bible study. The students were fully engaged, and why not? After all, here they were in one of the spots where the story they were studying might have happened. Fired me up, it did! I want to bring RCA young men and women to this place. I want that badly.

By the way, the young people studying the Transfiguration Event were Palestinian Christians. Some like to refer to them as Cultural Christians. It’s a derogatory term meant to infer that the Palestinian Christians aren’t the real deal, but simply born into it — as if most of us are not. I’ve heard these folks refer to the Palestinian Christian Community as not Christian at all — thus the term Cultural Christian.

All I have to say to these folks is: You should have been on the mountain that day. Almost made me want to build some booths and just sit and study the Bible with these young people. But there is this messy world down below that needs them. And me and you too.

Good Guide

lftw — Mon, 13 Aug 2007 12:21:22 +0000

From the site of the Mount of Beatitudes to the Lake of Tiberias (Sea of Galilee) is a path. As we walked the path, our guide, Eyad, stopped and picked up trash. He stuffed empty water bottles, power bar wrappers, toilet tissue, and whatever else into a plastic bag. I watched him and wondered why he was doing this. After all, Eyad is a Palestinian Christian. He is not a citizen of Israel, and we were in the State of Israel. He is a Jerusalemite, meaning that he has a Jerusalem ID. So why would a Palestinian Christian with no Israeli citizenship care about keeping Israel clean?

My cynical self, not always my best self, but a self that often has the first word, simply figured that Eyad was being a good steward of the land. He does make his living by walking people up and down these trails. He has pride in his work and wants the people he leads to have the best experience possible. So he picks up trash. It’s in his own self interest to keep Israel clean.

Maybe so, but perhaps there is more to this than just that – my best self seems to think so. Eyad belongs to this land, and this land belongs to him as well. This is not to say that others do not belong to the land, or that the land does not belong to others. I simply am not able to understand why so many make this a case of either/or. Eyad belongs to this land, and this land belongs to him. He can trace his ancestry back hundreds of years. Along with many others, Eyad has roots in the soil of this land.

Eyad loves this land. You can tell by the way he touches the land and the trees and the stones. And when he speaks of this place it is with such reverence and joy. Eyad loves the land. He loves the history of the land, all of it. He revels in all the stories spun from the fertile soil of this place, whether the stories are of Old Testament characters like Elijah, or New Testament eccentrics like John the Baptist. And Eyad loves the stories of Jesus best of all. He tells all the tales with great relish. His voice is filled with awe as he points out the place where Deborah led the fight against Sisera. Jael, one of the stars in that story – remember the tent stake driven through Sisera’s head and into the ground? – is like a sister to Eyad. He greatly enjoyed retelling that story and pointing toward the place where it might have happened.

Eyad loves this land. He is proud of her history — most of it at least.

What Eyad wants is to live in peace with whomever else wants peace. He wants a flag and a national anthem and he told me he doesn’t care whether it is Israeli or Palestinian. He wants a passport with his picture in it.

“I don’t want others off the land,” he said. “I want my two sons to belong somewhere. And I don’t want to have to send them away in order for them to find such a place. I want them to live here with me. I want them to raise their sons and daughters here in this place. I want to walk my grandchildren over this hill and through these valleys. And when I do, I want to be able to tell them the stories of the Bible and let them know that these stories are their stories too.”

Pretty good guide, huh?

Faith and Obedience

lftw — Fri, 10 Aug 2007 14:42:30 +0000

One night, a group of Jewish rabbis gathered together in a concentration camp bunking place. It was Friday night, the Eve of Shabbat. They gathered to study Torah and pray the Eve of Shabbat prayers. In the course of the evening they began to discuss the horrors that they were seeing and experiencing in the terrible death camps. The more they brought these atrocities to mind, the more they became convinced that one of two things was true: Either there is no God, or God is dead. Of this they became convinced.

As the time came for them to hurry back to their sleeping areas, one rabbi stood and said, “Then we agree. Either there is no God, or God is dead.” Solemnly, they nodded their agreement. Then the rabbi said: “That’s fine. Now, let’s pray!” They rose to their feet and they prayed.

One of the gifts that Judaism gives to us is the focus on obedience over faith. Yes, faith is important, but faith is not most important. Obedience is most important. Faithful living is most important. Keeping Torah is most important. The rabbis understood that faith comes and goes, but obedience is a constant. You can obey God even if you don’t believe in God. You can live faithfully even if you have lost faith in God. You can, and you should. That is what it means to be a Jew. You obey the commands of God regardless of whether or not you believe in the existence of God. It is obedience and faithful living that matter. God is, or God is not, this cannot be known for sure. Sometimes faith is strong, often faith is not, and there are times when faith is impossible. So a person does not dwell on faith, but on faithful living. “Abraham obeyed God and it was reckoned to him as righteousness” is the better understanding of that verse. Abraham went where he was told to go, and that going is what set Abraham apart from the crowd of religious people around him. Abraham obeyed. Neither Abraham nor Sarah believed God when God said they would have a son in their old age. Both laughed. But I’ll bet you a dollar that those two old codgers had sex that night. See? Obedience.

I’ve received many responses to the ‘Lost Faith” post of August 7, 2007. You said that you are praying for me, and that’s good. Thank you. I appreciate your prayers. You said that you are praying for that little girl in the black dress and empty eyes – notice that I wrote “in the black dress” and did not change the preposition “in” after the connector “and.” I meant to infer exactly what some of you did infer – she was “in the black dress,” and yes, she is “IN the empty eyes” as well. That is what haunts me so. She is IN there somewhere. Who will find her, the real her, the her that is made in the “image of God?” Who will even look for her IN there? Who will be her champion? Will God?

Whether I believe God will or not, does not change the fact of God. God is, or God is not. My believing does not create God, and my unbelief will not kill God. God is, or God is not! Jesus says that God is, and that God is the champion of the poor and needy. Jesus also commands that I am to champion the cause of the weak. So this is what I will do. I will do this every day. I will do this on the days that I believe, and I will do this on days that I do not. I will obey Jesus.

Let us pray:

Lord God almighty, maker of heaven and earth, give us eyes to see the suffering children, ears to hear their silent screams, and the heart and will to be their champions.

Amen!