Category: Jerry’s Reflections

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Element of Peace

The left footprint on display in the fresh-turned soil bore no resemblance to its counterpart. My right foot featured a really high arch while the left one lacked an arch at all. This one’s imprint carried the appearance of a flat board.

Thus, my bare feet had left a trail of odd alternating marks as I leapt to keep pace with my daddy’s longer strides across the plowed furrows.

Yes, the hardship of poliomyelitis from a prior time had left permanent marks. Yet, here I was curiously limping. . . and frolicking.

We don’t find people who are prone to relish suffering. I would certainly not be counted among them. Words like hardship or adversity or pain stir in many of us a cringe of resistance and angst.

Still, visiting the Bible’s pages we routinely find triumph mingled with trial.  Pleasure and pain show up as near neighbors. Happiness keeping company with hardship.

We muse over these strangely-matched companions. Especially so in reflective seasons like Holy Week, the period of Jesus’ (and history’s) darkest hours leading to his awful crucifixion.

How perplexing seems the phrase of the New Testament writer, “looking to Jesus who, for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross*

Enduring flogging and a torturous public execution with its attending shame, Christ’s suffering comes to us as ‘hardship’ utterly redefined.

So, we revisit our prayer – “accepting hardship as a pathway to peace”.

The apprentice of Jesus comes to actually affirm the beauty of suffering when endured in a grace lavishly supplied. Holding the master’s image in view the disciple settles into an element of peace words fail to capture. The difference is found through the example and presence of the resurrected, sacrificial coach.

Christ’s disciples make up that unusual sampling of humans who reconcile the paradox – hardship, an indispensable part of the good life.

He was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace*

©2023 Jerry Lout                                                                   *Hebrews 12:2      *Isaiah 53:5

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Tending Soil

“Take my life and let it be ever, only, all for Thee”, pleads the hymn writer. The cry pulses with yearning, hunger. He hungers to be fully owned by One who is wiser and more capable in the great undertaking. Of fashioning the apprentice to a pure reflection of Jesus. Ever only all for Thee.

Every young farm kid knows the sensation of freshly-plowed earth, of feeling its cool softness at the entry of an eager pair of bare feet. What delight – shoeless and sockless  – toes and heel pushing themselves into rich soil on an early Summer day.

For me, the simple action sparked a magic “yippee!” moment. Following the plow blade’s piercing work, the Alfalfa field got nicely smoothed out by a clunky tractor-drawn implement called a harrow. If, in these steps of sowing-prep the soil itself could speak, it might have bellowed out a loud objection, “Stop this, Stop, OK?!”

Hardship.

“Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time, accepting hardship as a pathway to peace”.

As a Christ-follower, I might generally offer up those first couple of Serenity Prayer lines with little complaint. The last seven words? Not so much.

Another barefoot memory I relish is a little self-imposed goal set while trailing my daddy across fresh-turned soil.  While it falls short of Olympic Trial standards, my goal was marked by two firm rules. (1) Keep up with my daddy’s long strides and, (2) With every leap forward, plant my small foot at the center of his large boot print. Succeeding at the two goals – for even a short while – left me a little goofy and giddy.

While human life can and does reflect seasons of enjoying each moment at a time, we are creatures of paradox. Up seems down. Down seems up. Healthy growth for the believer in doing life well calls for episodes of hardship.

These seasons come our way unavoidable, inescapable. And, in some cases, fiercely painful. Yet, in Christ, there is held before us a bedrock assurance. Goodness and flourishing will meet the pilgrim in good time. If not now, at the other side.

©2023 Jerry Lout

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Of Being Owned

Living our lives day by day in closeness to Jesus calls for desire. And intention.

Just like any healthy marriage motoring right into the sunset years, both parties – the man and the woman – make numberless small but significant choices. All along the journey each of them has grown into the habit of offering up expressions of worth and honor, the one to the other. This is the nature of what the Father had in mind in the covenant relationship – man wedded to the woman, woman wedded to the man.

In similar manner, the intentional and deliberate follower of Christ routinely offers up to him both actions and words. Expressions of love are core. It is this that sets the disciple apart. The casual Christian, meanwhile, may content himself with an occasional nod to a religious creed.

Priorities

That boy or girl, man or woman who’s growing in Christ is assured of belonging to him. They do not fear losing the relationship. Jesus their savior has redeemed them from the old kingdom of ego where Self sat perched atop the me-centered throne of the heart.

While secure in his everlasting hope, the disciple set on Christlikeness is one who is not content to merely qualify for the ‘someday upward flight’ to the afterworld. The apprentice counts the value tag of his life as a thing reflecting a far more expansive aim. While the afterlife destination means much to him, the love-smitten apprentice aspires less to owning heaven than to being owned by heaven.

© 2023 Jerry Lout

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Vine Fed

Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time, accepting hardship as a pathway to peace.

The Prayer of Serenity line speaks to the resilient nature of life with God, as well as life with one another. Where tender affection and raw sacrifice must mingle.

Simeon and Rebecca’s wedding rang with the uncommon blends of sacred-and-exhilarating, of solemn-and-ecstatic. My friend Roger officiated.

Revisiting some of his prepared notes, several bits of wisdom there stirred my thinking.

. To give your lives away to another is the work of a lifetime.

. You are leaving home to find home.  In some ways you are entering this union having prayed and prepared, knowing what you are saying yes to; and in other ways you have no clue what you are signing up for (here, ‘empathy-laughter’ of already-married couples rippled through the chapel).

The minister continued,

. Jesus invites all of us to walk a narrow way.  Love is always a narrow way that limits our options but expands and fulfills our soul. The wedding aisle is one of those narrow ways.

Roger offered further nuggets. One especially drew me in,

. You’re in a room full of friends and family here to witness this covenant of faithful, steadfast, unconditional, and enduring love.   And it’s why we invite God into this.  Because only His love can empower our love to last a lifetime.  

Only God’s love empowers our love to last, to flourish, to remain nurtured and sustained. To be kept alive.

Can we rally an image in our mind’s eye. . . clusters of ripened fruit suspended from an array of vine-fed branches? Lingering a moment with the picture before us we catch a whisper – an inviting voice – directed to our soul,

“I am the Vine”.

©2023 Jerry Lout                                                                                      *John 15

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Yield Signs

Jesus knows us in closeness. It’s something akin to what we witness in those enduring marriages we most admire. The envy of-the-world ones.

An aged couple, having grown deeper and deeper into oneness with each other over time present a heartwarming picture. It gives substance to a special word of endearment.  Companionship. While other couples speak sorrowfully of having “grown apart”, our two love birds only solidify their union, growing fused as one over their long marital journey. Why is this?

It is not because the two have been spared struggles and hardships. Indeed, intense pain and even trauma may mark such a couple’s history together. After all, what long-term marriage has not weathered some harsh, distressing storms?

Yet, in spite of everything, a mystery seems to be in play. Where deepening, loving companionship ends up actually flourishing – not just surviving. When broad-sided by overwhelming hardship, a surprising number of devoted couples emerge the other side with their marriage not only intact, but healthier than ever!

Marriage – especially Christ-focused marriage – illustrates well (though imperfectly) the beauty of the Christian life. Such a life grows and flourishes in close fellowship with Jesus, issuing from his own tested and proven love.

Every earnest bride who ever pledged “in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse” made the discovery along the way that vows are made for testing.

Likewise, the broad-smiling groom at the altar offering his pledge to love, cherish, protect. . . soon discovers he has entered a long and challenging learning curve.

Adapt – adjust – accommodate.

Married-life language shouts change. The words are marked by tangible elements of sacrifice. They strike at the heart of a wonderful and frightening movement toward growth – the yielding up or adapting of personal will.

And so it is for the Lord’s beloved ones – the love-smitten, fresh-launched followers of Christ. Their pledge is simple, yet sacrificial. Not shallow, not flippant. The pledge is weighty, and glorious. An all-out love-fueled – and practiced – surrender,

“Your will be done”.

©2023 Jerry Lout

 

 

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Green Pastures

Well, what do you know!

The expression of mild astonishment is common. What may not be so common is the understanding of ‘know’.

In Bible language to know speaks routinely of intimate interpersonal nearness. Adam knew his wife and she conceived and bore a son.

We know Jesus, not in his material form but by the Spirit who dwells within us. This level of knowing carries more depth and richness than the ‘tightest’ of human relations.

Rather than overthinking the language of “I never knew you”, what if we caught the reality that Jesus is actually calling us straight from his heart to the exact opposite.

As beloved sheep of his pasture, we turn our gaze away from ourselves and simply choose moving nearer the heart of our good Shepherd. His disciples (his sheep) grow to recognize, then relish, his words,

“My sheep hear my voice. I know them. They follow me”.*

The shepherd and sheep image offers up a good picture of what “abiding in Christ” is to look like.

Good Shepherd-Jesus initiates the relationship, “I have come to seek and to rescue wandering sheep. They are lost”. He lifts us from whatever pit we’ve plummeted into in our strayings. Having come to our rescue, he begins tenderly strengthening the bond between himself and us. This journey into routine closeness moves forward to the measure we respond to his Spirit’s promptings, “They hear my voice. They follow me”.

Every ‘yes’ to the good shepherd’s promptings (in prayer, in sitting with scripture, in worship) fosters more knowing. Intimacy, by its nature requires both parties to engage. Our Lord calls, we lean in to listen. He counsels, we respond as best we know to. We worship, he draws nearer yet.

By such means we find ourselves being changed from within. Our connection with God has shifted. The superficial level of knowing him recedes as he ushers us step by obedient step toward and into to his ‘green pastures’.  Our knowledge of Jesus grows at the interior level and we can’t help but savor the fragrance of his nearness. We are certain we will never be content with anything less than his close, shepherding companionship.

©2023 Jerry Lout

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Near

What is it to know God – to know Jesus?

Turning the question around, what is it to be known by Jesus?  The answer does seem to matter.

Perhaps you, like myself, have puzzled over a phrase Jesus offered up once,

“Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven.  On that day many will say to me, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name, and cast out demons in your name, and do many mighty works in your name?’  And then will I declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from me, you workers of lawlessness.’*

I never knew you.

It seems we are in need of catching the nature of our Lord’s heart. God in Christ became one of us. He shared in our raw flesh and blood humanity. Jesus (remarkably and wonderfully) yearns for closeness to his fellow humans. Yes, God in the flesh longs to be closely known to us, stating even on occasion, “I no longer call you servants, but friends”*.  Jesus doesn’t stop here.

He also – and it is here we can miss a key point – yearns to know us. In this sense ‘knowing’ speaks of closeness. This is not a knowing about factual details of what we creatures are comprised of. Jesus does not see us as machines. We are not devices like a ipad or smart phone held by him.

With our laptops we flip open the lid, press a key here, another there. Presto, the operating system fires up. What sensible person would ever liken such a sterile, mechanical process to a warm, interactive relationship? We know better. We carry feelings, wishes, passions, hopes within our bones.

Our devices are things in our possession that we control and manipulate – hopefully for worthy uses. Creator God on the other hand, in relating to we his image-bearers, is after relationship. Heart and soul, mind and strength. All our being.

“You will seek me and find me, when you seek me with all your heart”.*

“Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life”.*

God is Spirit and so are we. He seeks worshippers, wonderfully so – living creations akin to himself. Yes, out of all his handiwork we are the unique ones into whom he has breathed life (How do we ever get our heads around this!)

Biblical worshippers are those who happily and with eager hearts, engage their Lord in mutual companionship and love.

(c)2023 Jerry Lout

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A Knowing

His intimate and often practice of prayer brought Jesus into sweet communion with God, his heavenly father. And his praying served as the perfect teaching tool, placing in his disciples’ hands a sure and certain onramp to daily life in God.

Like fruit-bearing branches streaming from a common vine, Christ-followers actually get to see their lives as extensions of his own. They are a band of humble pilgrims anchoring into a new identity. Having become God’s reborn sons and daughters they quickly catch on to the fact that apart from Jesus they can do nothing. Nothing at all. He has become their life source. The Holy Spirit helps keep Jesus ever before their eyes. And, as with priceless treasure discovered in a field, no obstacle on earth will stop them going after it.

So it is that God’s unimpressive tagalongs – his precious apprentices – are set on a course of blossoming and flourishing. His fruit-bearing emissaries.

This sweet communion with God through the practice of prayer is not a thing reserved for Jesus of Nazareth alone.

I think of Frank.

Long ago a young missionary in Western Kenya confided in me, “All that I have learned about how to pray I learned from Frank.”  The young man spoke warmly of his missions colleague and friend.

“Frank didn’t teach me to pray by telling me how to pray. I learned praying by being with Frank when he was praying.”

Apparently, this is how it was with Jesus’ twelve. A longing arose within them that they become pray-ers, because of what they witnessed in their praying Lord. They discerned that their brilliant and beloved rabbi displayed utterly unique qualities. Beautiful and desirable qualities. Like goodness. And joy. And compassion. And humility.

Such qualities, they began seeing, could only be derived from those frequent times he communed in secret with a world they knew little about.

(c)2023 Jerry Lout

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‘Aspiring’

Jesus regularly forms his followers, those whose hearts are poised to grow into his likeness. He just waits on us to make a move. The apprentice grows more like his master by observing and doing the things his master (trainer/mentor) does.

Jesus modeled the practice of praying, for instance. Do you, like me, ever wonder why so many preachers, teachers and scholars write and speak on the subject of prayer? Well, Jesus started it.

Jesus not only taught on prayer. He prayed. A lot.

A. W. Tozer notes that Jesus prayed early in the morning and, at times, throughout all the night. That he prayed both before and after the great events of his life, and prayed “when life was unusually busy”.

Wherever you and I happen to be just now on our discipleship journey, we too may come to him as his early ragamuffin followers did those centuries ago. Bringing before him our earnest appeal about talking with God,

“Lord, teach us to pray.”

Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time* If we should search for a single line to sum up a fundamental disposition present in a New Testament disciple, we might begin with that phrase.

It was he who spoke of us walking alongside him, donning an ‘easy yoke’.  It is Jesus who stirs the imagination, offering a word picture of fruit-producing branches. Each branch, each Christ-follower, draws a plentiful supply of life straight from him – the vine. One day at a time. . one moment at a time.

Through his own frequent rhythms of being present to his Father in prayer Jesus modeled the practice for any and every one signing on as his apprentice. The Lord Jesus, more than any other human, understood prayer’s non-negotiable nature. Endurance and flourishing (two longed-for aims of any meaningful life) find their fountain in direct union with God alone. Nothing else quite works.

I am afraid I have sometimes lacked the ‘sanctified ambition’ witnessed now and then in his early disciples when their hunger surpassed their timidity. “Lord, teach us to pray”.

Those of us who count ourselves as apprentices or apprentice wannabes can thank God every day that their appeal was made. “Teach us to pray” may rank as the most worthwhile request ever voiced by any person anywhere.

Apprentices learn by copying what they see in their teacher.

(c)2023 Jerry Lout

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Modeling

“Do as I say – not as I do.”

Come again?

The old eyebrow-raising directive is not one you will hear rolling off the tongue of a  bona fide mentor or coach. Jesus came as rescuer. . .  as savior. But more than this.

Jesus routinely coached and mentored and trained these he loved – his forever companions in life and service. His mission of demonstrating the love and life of God in the earth was not to end  with his return to glory. And it did not.

Jesus’ approach to forming his followers has not changed.

Like any self-respecting rabbi of his day, our Lord modeled a lifestyle his disciples were to emulate. Jesus displayed, by the things he did in his very own body the things his apprentices were to demonstrate in their very own bodies.

If Jesus were to fashion his own catch- phrase in our day to convey his aims for us, something like, “Do as I say and do as I do” might fit comfortably with him.

A touching piece of music out of the past goes, “Make me more like Thee, Jesus, make me more like Thee.” Then, more recently the group Passion released a similar number, “More like You”.

How does Jesus (mentor – coach – trainer) respond when we offer such a plea to him – “make me more like you”?  Can’t we see him turning our direction and calling over to us in his thoroughly compelling manner, “Take my yoke upon you. Learn of me”.  Is it not time to take up his assignment, to learn of and apply whatever varied practices he sets before us. So that now as on-board apprentices, we might implement the kinds of things he prescribes. Living the Christ-life he lived.

Personally, I must confess, it has taken me a long time catching on to this.

I fail at it often.

Able trainer that he is, though, our master does not weary in his coaching. As Paul writes, “love is patient and kind”*.

© 2023 Jerry Lout                                                                         * I Corinthians 13