Mr. Walker’s Miracle (A Christmas Story)

Mr. Walker’s Miracle (A Christmas Story) Part 2

Mr. Walker’s Miracle (A Christmas Story) Part 3

On December 24, the youth group gathered in the new sanctuary in their work clothes, amid stepladders, strings of lights, garlands, and massive rolls of velvet ribbon. For the next few hours, the church reverberated with laughter, chatter, and boom boxes between Christmas carols and “contemporary” music that caused the floorboards to vibrate with the beat. The youth transformed the newly built sanctuary into a Christmas spectacle that was festive without being frivolous. Liz was struck by how enormous the place was and tried to imagine it filled with people.

“Do you really think it’ll be a full house tomorrow night?” she asked Sean as she rolled up the remainder of the ribbon. Sean was sweeping pine needles into a dustpan.

“I wouldn’t be at all surprised,” he replied. “We get over thousand people every week anyway, and it’s been well publicized.”

“True,” said Liz. How well she remembered the stacks of posters they had run off in the office and seeing them all over town the next day; the youth had done their job admirably. They had been sure to post the announcements in the music departments of the local colleges and universities, so that not only the faithful but also classical music enthusiasts would know about the concert. She felt an excitement similar to what she had felt before the musical production of The Sound of Music at the U. of I., where she had played a major role. Yet there was a difference this time. It was less fear, more thrill. Liz had no solos, no dances, no spotlight on herself to anticipate, yet she was no less excited. It had more the feeling of being enormously privileged to be a part – even a small part – of something so magnificent. When the curtain had gone down on the last performance of The Sound of Music, it had been over and done with, leaving an empty space of sorts in her heart and life. But this – this was timeless, eternal, and who could tell? There could very well be eternal results. God could bring anyone through that door, and who could hear the Messiah without being moved in one way or another, especially with someone like Mr. Walker at the helm?

Christmas Eve, an hour before the service was to start, the choir and orchestra members assembled in the choir room. The soloists were walking about in separate corners, doing vocal warm-ups. A few women still had random curlers in their hair. The chatter was low in volume, high in excitement. But all the noise died down altogether when Beverly appeared with her husband. There was a reverent hush throughout the room as she wheeled him down the aisle to the front of the room, and all members of the company gravitated toward them.

Mr. Walker gazed affectionately over the gathering with moist eyes that had the look of one seeing beyond this world into another dimension. For a moment he said nothing, Then he began.

“Thank you. Thank you all for coming. As you know, this is the fulfillment of a life-long dream of mine to perform the complete Messiah. And you have helped make it possible – this magnificent work, dedicated to a magnificent God,” (His face fairly glowed.) “with such people,” he added, smiling appreciatively. “Every one of you has a gift – is a gift from God.” For a moment his eyes met those of Liz, the youngest and newest member of the choir. “Every one of you. Don’t ever forget that.” He winked, and Liz felt as though she had been personally commended by a king. Was it wrong to feel pride at such a moment?

Mr. Walker’s voice grew a little stronger as he went on addressing the company.

“I want you to know how much I appreciate your kind words, your concern, the help you’ve given my wife …” He reached up and patted her hand; Beverly never took her eyes off her husband as he spoke. “And most of all, your prayers. Prayer is so important, even if we don’t know how or what to pray … and so often we don’t. It’s not so much what we pray, prayer is in the heart. Prayer changes us. It may or may not change the situation, but it changes us. It’s letting God be God.”

He paused, then went on, softly yet passionately, “Let God be God. He has blessed us – blessed me – so much …

“If I had only my salvation, I’d be a blessed man, but He’s given me more, so much more. A dear wife and soulmate … ” He squeezed Beverly’s hand, and her eyes glowed with love. ” …beautiful children and grandchildren who love Him and are here tonight. And now … ” (His face broke into a broad smile.) ” … the fulfillment of a dream. If I die tonight, I would still be of all men most blessed.”

Liz was troubled by this last statement. She wished he wouldn’t talk that way! But Mr. Walker and his wife both had a look about them that was not of this world, and they seemed untouched by fear or trouble.

“We don’t know what the future holds,” he added with a confident smile, “but we know Who holds the future. I never would have guessed two months ago, out walking with my wife …” His voice trailed off, and a few choir members awkwardly looked at the floor.

He took a deep breath and added with finality, “But let God be God. ‘ All things work together for good for them that love God.’ So, love God and let Him be God. He knows best. If I live another fifty years, if I die tonight, I’m a blessed man.” He looked up into the face of his wife, who smiled back with the same serene joy. “I’m a blessed man,” he whispered fervently, his eyes gazing into hers.

(to be continued …)

The saga of Mr. Walker continues. In case you missed parts 1 and 2, here they are:

Mr. Walker’s Miracle (A Christmas Story)

Mr. Walker’s Miracle, a Christmas Story, Part 2

There was much rejoicing when four weeks later Mr. Walker showed up for rehearsal. He was in a wheelchair and looked pale and haggard, but his spirit shone through. And though some members boldly insisted that “God’s not finished yet!” he was deeply grateful for the use of his arms and declared that, God willing, he would be conducting the Messiah on Christmas Eve. The announcement brought a standing ovation, whether for Mr. Walker, God, or both, and among the sopranos there were a few tears shed.

He proceeded to carry on the rehearsal as though he had never been away, and soon Liz could see the fire in his eyes as he led them in Handel’s magnificent tribute to his God. She could imagine the composer smiling to see such dedication and oneness with his music. There were moments when it seemed the director would rise right out of the wheelchair -indeed, everyone hoped that he would – yet the conducting continued from the humble position of the paraplegic, and to Liz, the chair seemed to mock his name.

Rehearsals with full orchestra began in mid-December, and the choir was treated to the solos that had been practiced separately up to that point. Undoubtedly Beverly’s was the most moving. Although she had a score in front of her, she never so much as glanced at the notes; likewise, her husband conducted by heart, sometimes with eyes closed in near ecstasy, other times looking deeply and passionately into his wife’s eyes as she sang:

“I know that my Redeemer liveth…”

Their faces reflected the peace of undaunted faith. To watch and listen to this couple was an inspiration. One could sense the many years they had spent growing together in knowledge and trust of God, and that they fully expected to continue doing so right into eternity.

I hope Sean and I will be like them someday, Liz thought.

When Beverly finished her solo, the silence that followed was profound. Every soul in the room had been elevated to a higher level. Such is the effect of true faith on those around it.

Almost equally moving was Gordon Mayfield’s singing of “Comfort Ye My People.” The young man had an excellent, well-trained voice, and of course the solo exuded peace, a rare commodity as the Christmas season approached with all the secular distractions the world had created to pollute it. With the added stress of the recent accident, a moment of serenity was a welcome relief.

It was during the second rehearsal after Mr. Walker had returned that Liz was enjoying Gordon’s singing with her eyes closed and a peaceful smile on her face.

Suddenly she was startled out of her reverie by the sound of a collective gasp from the other choir members. Gordon stopped singing, and Liz opened her eyes to see a disturbing sight.

Mr. Walker was slumped back in his chair, his body shaking convulsively, his eyes rolling back in his head. Dr. Peterson had already leapt off the platform and ordered for someone to call 911. Beverly flew to her husband’s side, musicians began moving their instruments to clear a space, and most of the choir sat in shocked silence. Liz felt as though she were going to be sick.

The next few moments were a blur; Dr. Peterson’s orders were mingled with Beverly’s soothing words of encouragement, others’ sobs, and eventually the wail of sirens. In spite of the rapid dialogue between the doctor and the paramedics, everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, until Mr. Walker was finally taken away, with Beverly and a few close friends following. As the flashing lights of the ambulance flickered through the windows, and the siren’s melancholy cry faded into the night, Liz dreaded the heated controversy that she expected to follow.

But there was no theological debate, no arguing, no proud declarations. There were prayers, and there were tears, and people who had recently barely spoken to one another now sat quietly, nonjudgmental, heads bowed and hands clasped in unity. Beside the cluster of music stands, a group of musicians stood in a huddle, arms around one another, and one was softly leading in a prayer. A few others pretended to busy themselves with cleaning and putting away their instruments, but Liz noticed the awkward looks on their faces. These were people she did not recognize; they were not members of the church, but professional musicians that had been hired to fill in the gaps. Liz couldn’t help wondering what was going on in their minds. Did they know the Lord at all? If not, what opinions were they forming about how He took care of His own? She found that she herself was unsure what she believed, and sitting in the midst of the emotional chaos, she suddenly felt confused and vulnerable. Looking down, she fidgeted with the pages of the musical score in her lap. One large tear splashed onto the cover. A moment later she felt a strong, warm hand on her shoulder, and a familiar voice gently asked, “You OK, Liz?”

“…I’m not sure …” she stammered in a choked voice, not looking up. Sean knelt beside her chair, lifted her chin, and looked into her eyes.

“He’s going to be OK … either way. We know that, don’t we?”

Liz nodded, then gratefully accepted her fiancé’s embrace and sobbed on his shoulder.

* * * * * * * * * *

For the next few days the prayer chain kept the phone lines busy, keeping one another updated on Mr. Walker’s progress. After just two days in the hospital, he was sent home with medication to control the seizures, Although there were those who believed that “perfect healing” was on its way and that medication was an unnecessary distraction, they had the decency not to be too vocal in their opinions, and most were grateful for any kind of answer to their prayers.

It looked as though Mr. Walker would be conducting the Christmas Eve service after all.

(to be continued …)

Today’s post continues the story. In case you missed part 1, here it is:

Mr. Walker’s Miracle (A Christmas Story)

“Pray for Mr. Walker, Liz. There’s been an accident.”

“What?!” she gasped.

“He and Beverly were walking Ludwig, and he was hit by a drunk driver.” Liz clapped her hand over her mouth.

“Oh no!” she cried. “Where is he?”

“Cook County Hospital, intensive care.”

“But what…? How badly …?” she stammered.

“They don’t know yet. The car struck him in the back, and when he hit the pavement … Closed head injury, possible brain damage. There seems to be some paralysis. Right now they’re just hoping he makes it through the night. Just pray, OK?”

“OK,” said Liz in a voice that was barely audible. There was a pause as she waited for Sean to say something more, more news, an encouraging word, anything. But all he said was,

“Look, I gotta go call the rest of the prayer team…”

“OK, I’ll talk to you in the morning,” Liz replied, choking on her tears.

She hung up the phone, then buried her face in her pillow.

“Oh Jesus! Not Mr. Walker! Please don’t take him …” She thought of the logic of praying for someone not to go to heaven. “I mean, not yet! O Lord, this was his dream, to do the Messiah for You – Christmas Eve in the new sanctuary! Please let him do it! It would bless so many people, it would glorify You so much … And she went on for the next hour or more, praying as though the Almighty needed to have everything explained to Him, begging, reasoning, bribing, until she came to the end of herself, and her soul, exhausted, collapsed into submission.

“‘Nevertheless, not my will, but Thine be done,'” she quoted half-heartedly, then cried herself back to sleep.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Rehearsals went on with the assistant director in charge, but they were more like prayer meetings than practices. Everyone was praying for Mr. Walker, and everyone, it seemed, had a different opinion of what God was going to do. The age-old controversy of faith and healing grew. Being a non-denominational church, Faith Chapel had persons of many religious backgrounds – or no religious background at all. Some prayed with childlike simplicity that God would just touch and heal Mr. Walker; some secretly worried that if God didn’t heal him, such childlike faith would evaporate like a morning mist, and then what would such tender believers do? Some tried to explain that God always answers prayer, but the answer is sometimes “yes,” sometimes “no,” sometimes “wait.” This was not much comfort, and some, frustrated to the brink of tears, questioned, why pray at all then?

Some prayed for wisdom for the doctors and for healing to come through them. Others prayed that the Lord would bypass the medical profession completely and so glorify Himself only. Some prayed for God’s perfect will, not merely His permissive will; others wondered what in the world that was supposed to mean. Some even prayed “warfare prayers,” using voices full of authority, quoting the Bible as though waving a sword, and telling the devil in no uncertain terms that he could not have Chuck Walker! Others not only prayed for healing, they claimed it, quoting Scriptures that God would prove true, and becoming annoyed to no end with those who insisted upon adding “… if it be Thy will” at the end of their prayers. Of course it was God’s will – He said so right there!

Relatively inexperienced believers felt intimidated by those who could quote a staggering number of Scripture verses; however, the latter were outdone by the ones who professed to know what the words meant in the original Hebrew, Greek, and Aramaic and volunteered to interpret for everyone.

“But we don’t really know what Paul’s ‘thorn in the flesh’ was,” one member of the group protested, while another added,

“What about Job? He was a righteous man, and God let him suffer for a time…”

“Satan tormented him, not God,” yet another joined in the debate.

“But he had to get permission from God to do it!”

“And he got permission!”

“Exactly! He petitioned God. That’s why we have to counter-petition…”

As Liz tried to sort out what “counter-petition” meant, someone else changed the subject.

“Did you know that the word in Revelation for ‘witchcraft’ is ‘pharmacea’? We get the word ‘pharmacy’ from it.”

“Meaning…?”

“It means literally ‘communing with the devil through the use of drugs.'”

“Are you saying …?”

“I don’t trust doctors!”

“We need to stop talking about paralysis and brain damage. We need to say, ‘he’s whole!'”

“Isn’t that lying?”

“No. He’s actually already healed. The Word says, ‘By his stripes we were healed.’ The symptoms are the ‘messenger of Satan.’ Satan’s the liar! Chuck just needs to stand on the Word of God.”

“So you’re saying that Chuck’s problem is that he just doesn’t know the Bible well enough and needs to have more faith?”

“Well, the Word does say…”

“That godly man!? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!”

There was even talk of some alternative treatments, which was met with righteous indignation that anyone would suggest the use of a New Age method, which everyone knew was from the pit of hell.

A few tempers flared, and some days it seemed certain people had nothing in common except their concern for Mr. Walker.

His wife Beverly bore it all patiently. At first she did not show up for rehearsals, and everyone knew she was at her husband’s side, no doubt comforting him with her encouraging words and sweetness of spirit. Later she would come in and seem awkwardly self-conscious, no wanting to create a distraction. Everyone knew that so much wanted to be said, yet very little was, verbally. Still, there was the touch of a hand, a gentle smile, a hug that said so much, and Beverly accepted with tearful gratitude every expression of support.

For Liz, there was the impatience that came from praying everything she could think of to pray and praying it again and again, until she thought surely the Lord was sick of the whole thing, and why didn’t He just heal Mr. Walker and get it over with, so we can get on with the Messiah? Then with the realization that she was not God and could do nothing more, her soul settled into a kind of numbness.

(to be continued…)

The following Christmas story is an excerpt from my novel, Vision, the second book in the Awakening trilogy. It’s my Christmas present to my readers.

“Sing in the choir?” asked Liz. Since she had found her own apartment and joined the church in September, she had thought she was participating in just about every activity the church had to offer; she even had a part-time job helping in the office. “I haven’t done that since high school.”

“So, it’s high time you did it again,” Sean reasoned. Liz hadn’t seen him this excited since she had accepted his marriage proposal. “They’re doing Handel’s Messiah this Christmas! The whole thing – with a full orchestra! The new sanctuary will be ready by then, and they’re going to make Christmas Eve the first service there. It’s going to be awesome! And,” he added with a tone of profound veneration, “you’ll get to experience Charles Walker.“

Oh yeah, Liz thought, Mr. Walker. She had met him when she had first come to Faith Chapel and had seen him direct the choir almost every Sunday since. Sean’s parents had related the story of the Christmas Eve when ten-year-old Sean had announced, “When I grow up, I want to be Mr. Walker.” As a child, Sean had sometimes been seen in his bedroom playing music on his tape player and conducting an invisible company of singers and musicians. Although Sean’s aspirations had changed somewhat, Charles Walker was still, and probably always would be, a role model for him. Almost every adult in the church called him “Chuck,” but Sean, who was not yet feeling quite like an adult, and never feeling anywhere close to the man’s equal, continued to call him “Mr. Walker” with the utmost reverence. Liz, being relatively new to the church, did the same.

Charles Walker was not a large man, or in any way one who could be spotted easily in a crowd. His gray hair was thinning, and glasses obscured the brightness of his eyes. His dress and his movements were about what one would expect of a man in his early sixties. Someone Sean and Liz’s age might easily pass him by without a second glance.

But when he spoke, one was suddenly struck by the passion in his voice – a passion for his music, a passion for life and family, and above all, a passion for his God. This was a man who had an intimate knowledge of Christ that was obvious to anyone who knew him. It was a deep friendship that had been cultivated for decades, a relationship with both warm sweetness and fiery zeal to do His will. To watch Mr. Walker conduct the choir was like watching a master craftsman molding an exquisite instrument, whether they were singing a centuries-old hymn, or the most popular new worship song on the Christian charts. He did not merely direct the music; he brought it to life, embraced it, and offered it up to God as a sacrifice of love. From the first time she had heard the choir Liz had observed the affection and respect that every singer had for this man of God. It seemed the easiest thing in the world for him to direct them; it was as if every singer were an extension of the man himself.

Suddenly she felt the honor and privilege that was being offered to her, and she somehow knew that if she turned it down, she would end up regretting it.

“OK,” said Liz. “If you’re doing it, I will, too.”

* * * * * * * * * * *

Rehearsals were both interesting and satisfying. Mr. Walker made no allowances for newcomers but seemed to assume that they were experienced vocalists. This approach was both flattering and challenging. In writing about the experience in her journal, Liz could think of many words to describe rehearsals with Mr. Walker, but “boring” was never one of them. He always began with a few words to put their work into perspective; they were not practicing to worship God, they were worshiping Him, with every act, every repetition, every corrected mistake. He had instilled in every choir member, and soon had instilled in Liz, that every note one sings, even the off-key ones, could be an act of worship, if one’s heart belonged to Jesus. Moreover, every act or deed – changing a tire, washing a dish, cleaning a toilet – could be worship, if offered up to God. (Liz tried to remember this when she didn’t feel like doing her laundry.)

Although at the beginning there was much practice of separate parts, Mr. Walker made sure that every rehearsal contained at least one portion of the oratorio that was sung with the complete choir. The sound of the beautiful music coming together in its fullness was inspiring and left each choir member excited and looking forward to meeting again.

Liz particularly loved “For Unto Us a Child Is Born,” one she had heard sung in her church in St, Louis. It always brought back the feelings of Christmas past, and whenever she sang the words, “And His Name shall be called Wonderful Counselor…” her heart glowed with the warmth of a wonderful secret, known only to a select few: that she had first met Christ through a dream, where He was her Advisor, Confidant, and Best Friend. To hear a full choir sing such apt praises to the One she knew so intimately brought her chills and made her feel somehow connected across the centuries to the composer himself.

George Friedrich Handel. Charles Walker. What a privilege to sing in the company of such giants in the faith!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The call came at 1:15 A.M. Awakened from a deep sleep, Liz fumbled for the phone, knocking the radio onto the floor. She immediately recognized Sean’s voice and was wide awake at once when she heard what he had to say.

“Pray for Mr. Walker, Liz. There’s been an accident.”

(to be continued…)

Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. – Colossians 3:2

I read the prayer request, marked “URGENT!” A little girl was missing. Immediately my heart went out to the parents who didn’t know where their daughter was. I have experienced that panic on occasion, but never for more than an hour. I prayed for “peace that surpasses understanding” for them, protection and rescue for their little girl, and for the angels of heaven to surround her.

That night, waking up every couple of hours, my mind went back to the situation … “Lord, please protect her … Surround her with Your angels … Rescue her…” before drifting back to sleep.

The next day I got another email from the church. The little girl’s body had been found.

I couldn’t wrap my mind around it – What went wrong? Were we not praying hard enough? Was there something else that could have been done? How —?

But no answers came.

———————————————————————————————————————————

That night we went with our daughter’s family to a Christmas festival, part of which was music being performed all evening in one of the old churches.

The huge sanctuary has a massive dome overhead that resembles an expanse of sky as much as anything can without being actual sky. Painted everywhere against the backdrop of blue are angels holding out scrolls with words of Scripture on them. A tier of them encircling the dome hold the names of the fruits of the Spirit and other biblical virtues, another tier holding scrolls with the Beatitudes (“Blessed are the poor in spirit,” etc.) Stained glass windows depict scenes from the life of Christ, and the entire decor is more ornate than any other church I’ve ever seen in this country.

If the purpose of all this is to turn our thoughts toward heaven – mission accomplished. The moment one steps into this house of worship, the visual is overwhelming enough. But we arrived just as the choir and full orchestra were performing the Halleluia Chorus from Handel’s Messiah in the balcony, and the effect was breathtaking. We were too close to the back to see them, so it was easy to imagine that the song was coming from heaven itself as it bounced off the painted angels. As I sang along, gazing at the celestial scenery surrounding us, I felt as though we were getting a small taste of what it must be like in heaven itself – in the presence of God in all His glory.

“King of kings! And Lord of lords!” we sang. “And He shall reign forever and ever!“

Then suddenly my mind turned to darker things, and since He knows my thoughts anyway, I asked the Lord a blunt question.

If You’re the King of kings and Lord of lords, WHY did You let that happen to that little girl?

He didn’t strike me dead with lightning for questioning His ways. He knew I wasn’t trying to be a brat. I recognized His greatness and knew that if anyone had the answer, He did. I just wanted so desperately to understand and to know that He can still be trusted.

The man Job, who possibly went through more pain and loss than any other human being, asked the LORD similar questions and waited a long time before God finally showed up. And the answer came in a long series of questions, starting with, “Where were you when I laid the earth’s foundation?” (Job 38:4)

I think I got a similar answer, although I didn’t hear specific words. I only heard the singing get more magnificent, the sense of His presence more overwhelming. … I knew He was reminding me: He’s God. I’m not.

But I still wondered, WHY??? …

Then, it struck me.

She’s there.

While this brief moment in time was a taste of heaven for us – that little girl is experiencing the real thing. She’s in the presence of God – forever. And from there she is seeing things far differently from the way we see them.

We prayed she’d be rescued – She was.

We prayed she’d be surrounded by angels – She is.

We prayed she’d be protected – She is. No evil person or thing will ever be able to touch her again.

Whatever she went through, she’s not going through it now. As horrific as it was, and though it was pure evil that we may never understand it in this life, it’s over. She’s home free. And although we will weep for her family in the agonizing days and years ahead, we shouldn’t weep for her. She is better off than any of us who are here.

She won’t ever have her teenaged heart broken, or feel the stress of being unemployed, injured or diseased. She’ll never suffer widowhood, natural disasters, betrayals of friends, miserable consequences of bad choices, watching her aging body deteriorate, and every other experience that makes us long for heaven while we’re in these finite bodies. She’s skipped all that. (I could almost envy her.)

Of course, life doesn’t consist of just pain. It also contains many joys and pleasures – friends, music, good food, the beauty of nature, marriage, and having children and grandchildren. We tend to weep for those who will miss out on those things. And yet every good thing in this life is a mere shadow of what awaits us in heaven, which they’re already enjoying.

If you’ve lost someone you love, especially if it was in horrific circumstances, I don’t expect these words to change your feelings. And I know I can’t begin to know what you’re going through. I do know pain has a way of screaming at us at full volume, threatening to drown out the truth. But we must hold onto that truth. If we don’t, nothing will make sense, our lives will be hopeless, and the enemy will have won.

But in the end, he loses. GOD WINS.

Prayer: O Lord, I don’t know why You showed me what You did the other night. I am not the one who needed it. I haven’t lost a child, and I have no way of truly knowing how it feels. I feel presumptuous even speaking of such things. Please comfort those who are experiencing excruciating, unspeakable grief. The rest of us want to help, but You are the only One who has the power to cure the incurable. We can only offer our prayers, and for what it’s worth, we do that now. In Jesus’ name, amen.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. – John 1:1

But even if we or an angel from heaven should preach a gospel other than the one we preached to you, let him be eternally condemned! – Galatians 1:8

“Discernment is not knowing the difference between right and wrong. It is knowing the difference between right and almost right.” – Charles Spurgeon

Baby Jesus: It’s that time of year when even the staunchest atheist might hum along with songs about Mary’s baby Boy, the cuddly little Babe in the manger. And when the Christmas season is over and the manger scenes are put away, so are any further thoughts about Jesus until His birthday next year. But Christ-followers know there is much more to this “Babe” than the songs playing in the mall tell us.

Are we so caught up in the sweetness and the sentimentality of the season that we fail to stop and ponder the wonder of the Incarnation – “Emmanuel’ – “God with us“?

I for one appreciate the Christmas carols that tell the whole story – that God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son to die in our place, as the atoning sacrifice to pay for our sins, so we can be restored to fellowship with the Father and live forever. – “God and sinners reconciled!”

That Baby in the manger was born for one purpose, to die so that we could live.

And yet, if you ask the simple question, “Who is Jesus?” you will get varying responses.

The illogical Jesus: Many say Jesus was a good man, a great moral teacher, like Buddha, Mohammed, and Confucius. But as C. S. Lewis famously pointed out, this is not an option. Jesus claimed to be God, and this claim was one of the reasons His enemies set out to kill Him. Such a radical claim must be either true or false. He couldn’t have been “sort of God.” If Jesus isn’t God, then He was lying, and moral people don’t lie about something as basic as who they are. The other option is that He was mistaken – He only thought He was God. And that, as Lewis said, puts Him on the level of a man who thinks he’s a poached egg. Great teachers know who they are. The only other option is that He was and is who He said He was. So, to say Jesus was a great moral teacher but not God incarnate is not a logical option.

The liberal Jesus: To many church goers, especially in America, Jesus is our Big Brother, the example we want to follow to live good, moral lives. But to stop there and fail to see Him as our Lord and Savior, the God who created us and to whom we owe everything, is to miss the point. And the point is, we can’t follow His example. Jesus was perfect, and to try to live as He lived for one day – one hour – is to see how woefully short we fall. This is the very reason we need Him as Savior. Nothing we do or say can pay for one sin we’ve committed. Even sacrificing our own lives would be insufficient, since God requires a perfect sacrifice, and we are far from perfect! To presume that we could follow His example is pure arrogance.

One of many “gods.” This Hindu belief has the same problem as the “illogical Jesus.” Jesus said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father except by Me.“ Jesus claimed exclusivity; therefore, He is either the only true God, or not a god at all.

The Muslim Jesus was a prophet, but not divine. Again, can someone be a true prophet and miss the mark on something as basic as his own identity?

The Mormon Jesus: Mormons call Jesus “the Christ,” but their view of Him is not in line with mainstream Christian teaching. To a Mormon, Jesus is not the second Person of the Trinity but the half-brother of Satan. (Doctrines and Covenants 76:25-27)

The Jehovah’s Witness Jesus was created, not begotten. He is inferior to Jehovah but superior to the angels. After His death He was resurrected as a spirit creature.

Partial Savior: Several religions belief systems recognize Jesus’ atoning death on the Cross but don’t believe His sacrifice is enough to pay fully for our salvation. Works must be added, and life becomes a feverish race to do enough good deeds to cover the bad. Some believe that Judgment Day will have a giant scale to weigh every person’s good works on one side and sins on the other, and if the good deeds don’t outweigh the bad, that person is not saved. Sadly, believers in this system never know the peace of being secure in their Savior’s love.

The true Jesus of the Bible: As Jesus died on the cross, He declared, “It is finished!” meaning, “Mission accomplished!” or “Paid in full!” We can rest in the assurance that our sins are paid for. Good works will follow, but they’re done with joy, out of gratitude for our salvation, not an attempt to earn it. And the biblical Jesus rose bodily from the grave on the third day to seal the promise of eternal life. He specifically said to His disciples that He was not a ghost: “Touch me and see; a ghost does not have flesh and bones as you see I have.” (Luke 24:39)

It’s not enough to say we believe in Jesus. The question is, which Jesus? It’s not necessary to study all the different versions of Him, just the Bible. The Jesus you find there is the true Savior. If you haven’t turned your life over to Him, do it today. Then, as you celebrate His birth this year, know that you have given Him the one gift He wants most from you – yourself.

Prayer: Dear Jesus, as the world celebrates Your birth with activities and trappings that really have nothing to do with You, help us to stay focused on the wonder of Your love, that You would leave Your home in glory and come to earth to be one of us and die for us, so we can be Yours forever. In Your name, amen.

How you have fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! – Isaiah 14:12

[Jesus] replied, “I saw Satan fall from heaven like lightning.” – Luke 10:18

And no wonder, for Satan himself masquerades as an angel of light. It is not surprising, then, if his servants masquerade as servants of righteousness. – II Corinthians 11:14b-15a

I was visiting a relative who was moving to a new condo, and as she was only partially moved, she slept in the new condo, while I spent the night in the old one. After going to bed, I was struck with an uneasy feeling and instinctively got up and checked the doors to make sure they were locked; they were.

And yet, I still had the distinct feeling I wasn’t alone (Well, I’m a Christian, so I’m never really alone-alone, but other than that …), I looked in the closets; no one there.

Lastly, feeling utterly silly, I looked under the bed and found the “boogie man” – a New Age book said relative had been reading. I knew immediately it was not in my belief system, because on the cover was an elaborate picture of a “goddess” with multiple pairs of arms. Some might call these books harmless fiction or entertainment, but I believe there is a spiritual element to such teachings when taken seriously. I addressed whatever entity was in the room, rebuked it in the name of the real God, tossed the book in the corner, and promptly went to sleep.

The world is full of religions, philosophies, and world views, and with the advent of the internet, ideas can (sometimes) be freely exchanged. With all the available ways to receive input, rather than making it easier to believe in something, the opposite is true. Confusion abounds.

Many religions put a good face on their “gods,” but most of us learned early on that looks can be deceiving.

Whose “truth” is true? Some even claim that everything is true, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize that everyone can’t possibly be right.

Jesus said, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father, except through me.” (John 14:6) That’s clearly a statement of exclusivity. If Jesus was telling the truth, He is the only truth. If He wasn’t, there could be multiple “truths,” but He would not be one of them, since He just lied about being the only one. – Right?

So, when someone speaks of praying to “whoever you pray to – Mother Earth, Buddha, the Force, your inner child, the divine mother, Jesus, it doesn’t matter … ” don’t go there! It does matter. Especially if they lump Jesus in with the others – do not go there! (I will address the issue of “the wrong Jesus” at a later time.)

So, who are all these other “gods” and “goddesses” who seem so benevolent, so willing to “help” us? To the Christian, they are spiritual imposters. When it comes to power, the true and living God is greater than all of them put together, so the best these false deities can hope for is to deceive people created in God’s image.

Thousands of years ago, when Pharaoh refused to free the children of Israel from slavery, Egypt was struck with one plague after another. Each plague was aimed at humiliating and defeating one of the Egyptians’ “gods.” The LORD began by turning the Nile to blood in defiance of their river god. After seven more plagues darkness covering all of Egypt – except where the Israelites were -in defiance of their sun god Ra. The tenth and final plague, the death of the first-born male struck even the son of Pharah, who himself was considered a “god.”

But Israel’s sons were spared, because they had been warned to put the blood of a lamb on their doorposts – a foreshadowing of the Lamb of God – Jesus – whose blood was shed on a wooden cross for our deliverance from eternal death. You can read about all ten plagues and Israel’s deliverance out of Egypt in the book of Exodus. It’s a great read.

Centuries later, Elijah, the prophet of God, stood alone and confronted 450 prophets of the “god” Baal. They held a contest, where each side offered a sacrifice on an altar to see which “god” would receive the sacrifice with fire.

First the 450 prophets called on Baal to send fire down and burn up the offering on their altar. They cried out, they danced, they slashed themselves with swords and spears and bled profusely, past noon and until time for the evening sacrifice.

Nothing.

Then it was Elijah’s turn. First, he did some preparation. He built an altar with twelve stones (for the twelve tribes of Israel) and placed the wood and the pieces of the bull on it. Then he dug a trench around it and called for large jars of water to be poured over the sacrifice, the wood, and the stones, until it flowed down and filled the trench!

Then Elijah called on his God.

(Once.)

“Then the fire of the LORD fell and burned up the sacrifice, the wood, the stones, the soil, and licked up all the water in the trench.” (I Kings 18:38)

So much for Baal.

When I pray, I want to pray to that God, don’t you?

While visiting some relatives, my daughter and I spent the night in the bedroom of their daughter who was no longer living at home. The knickknacks in her room were souvenirs of her trip to India, a country she dearly loved.

I woke up in the middle of the night, again with that feeling of being watched. I pulled aside the curtain of the window, and there, a foot from my face, was a sticker, a picture of some “god,” I suppose. It had the body of a man and the head of an elephant and seemed to be staring right at me.

I whispered, “My God’s bigger than you,” rolled over, and went back to sleep.

Dear children, keep yourselves from idols. – I John 5:21

Prayer: Lord Jesus, You are the way – the only way – and I thank You for being on my side, in spite of my sin, weakness, and failures. – Where would I be without You? Today, as always, I will trust You, and You alone. Amen.

Dear Readers: I try hard to keep my posts at 1000 words or less (About 4 minutes of reading per week), but last week I couldn’t get to my word count. Predictably, my post went way over.

As my way of apology, I’m going to write even more! – Kidding… sort of. Just some extra thoughts that are way shorter than my usual. Enjoy, and have a great weekend.

Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own, you were bought with a price. – I Corinthians 6:19-20a

I was a sinner (Romans 3:23), condemned to eternal death for my sin (Romans 6:23a), but God chose to give me life instead (Romans 6:23b). He sent His Son Jesus to pay the price for my sins by dying in my place (I Peter 2:24) so I could be forgiven and healed. I was the lost sheep, but my Shepherd came after me, found me, and brought me home, rejoicing. (Luke 15:4-6) He has gone ahead to prepare me a home in heaven. (John 14:2) And when the time is right, He’s coming to get me and take me there.

Jesus bought me with a price – a very heavy price, His very life. And I belong to Him forever.

(MY PRONOUN IS “HIS.”)

“Are not all angels ministering spirits sent to serve those who will inherit salvation?” – Hebrews 1:14

The last couple of weeks I’ve written about the mistake of worshiping or praying to the wrong person.* The fact that God is invisible can make it harder for us to talk to Him, ask for His help, and believe we will receive it. The fact that He’s the King of the universe makes it hard to imagine He’d be interested in the needs and problems of a mere mortal, so we look for someone we think is closer to Him (“godlier”) and yet can relate to us – a kind of go-between to “put in a good word for us.” But these human beings, however holy they seem to be or to have been, do not qualify to receive and answer our prayers.

The Bible is clear; people are just people – like us.

Even Mary, the mother of Jesus, knew her need for a Savior. She was called “blessed,” but Jesus said the way to be “blessed,” was by hearing and obeying His Word. When you consider this, it is a marvelous truth! What God did in the lives of people like Mary and Peter and Paul, He could do in our lives, as well – maybe more!

I hope it’s clear to you that we’re better off not praying to or worshiping our mortal peers, both those living among us today and those who have passed on and are in heaven. But what about supernatural beings? What about angels?

Most Christians are aware that we are forbidden to engage in occult practices. But unlike witches or wizards or genies in a bottle, angels are on God’s side … Right?

First, we need to understand what exactly angels are. When angels appeared in the Bible, usually the first thing they say is, “Fear not.” Apparently, these beings are alarming and intimidating, contrary to the way they’re often depicted as cute, chubby babies with wings or beautiful women in the window of a lingerie shop. (As the kids would say, “Give me a break.”)

Angels are mighty warriors. The book of II Kings tells about the time one angel went into the enemy’s camp and killed 185,00 of Israel’s enemies in a single night! Clearly, angels are powerful and able to help God’s people in distress.

But the Bible teaches that angels are God’s servants that He sends to do His bidding – exactly the reason it would be futile to pray to them. An angel of God will never do anything that isn’t God’s will, so don’t even ask.

Besides, why ask a servant when you can go directly to the top? Jesus taught His followers not only that we could pray directly to God, but that we were to call Him “Father.” The word originally used was “Abba,” or “Daddy.”

Nowhere in Scripture is there any indication that we are to seek angels out. In the biblical accounts, God has either sent an angel with a message or with help in answer to the prayers of men (and women). But the prayers were directed at God, and He answered. As I admonished in my last post, don’t worship the messenger – even if the messenger is impressive and intimidating.

The apostle John was visited by an angel who gave him a panoramic view of the future, which he wrote down as the book of Revelation. At the end of this marvelous message, John wrote:

I, John, am the one who heard and saw these things, and when I had heard and seen them, I fell down to worship at the feet of the angel who had been showing them to me. But he said to me, “Do not do it! I am a fellow servant with you and with your brothers the prophets and of all who keep the words of this book. Worship God!”-

Revelation 22:8,9

So, there it is. Angels are our fellow servants. They may be more powerful than we are now, but we the redeemed of God have a more privileged position, like a little child among the household servants. We will someday take our place in heaven with Him in our glorified bodies. (Jesus said we would be “like the angels.”) Paul wrote, someday we will even judge angels. (I Corinthians 6:3) More about that next week.

To me the most endearing photo of John F. Kennedy is the one where he, the President of the United States and leader of the free world, is at work in the Oval Office, while his son, John Kennedy Junior – “John-John” – is playing under his desk. While heads of state, world leaders, diplomats, and other dignitaries had to go through many channels and often wait days or weeks for a meeting with the President, John-John had access to his daddy at any time.

We who follow Jesus are even more privileged than that! Just think, the Creator, who designed everything from the atom to the galaxies, is available to hear our prayers. It might be hard to wrap our minds around the fact that every one of the 8 billion people in the world were created by God and are known by God, but it’s true. He is infinite wisdom, power, and love. And He cares about us! Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re not important enough to talk directly to God, that the One who rules the world doesn’t have time for your problems and concern. He does – He created time.

But just as President Kennedy wasn’t available to all people equally, not everyone is in the privileged position of God’s child. “We are all God’s children” may be true in the sense that we are all His creation. But to be adopted into His family and to have that kind of access to Him in prayer, one must have the special relationship of a son or daughter with a dad.

If you don’t know whether you have that relationship, there is a way to become His son or daughter, to be the child He delights in.

First, acknowledge your sin. How do I know you have sinned? The Bible says, “ALL have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.” (Romans 3:23) So, that includes you and me.

Realize that “The wages of sin is death.” (Romans 6:23) This means spiritual death – being separated from God forever. He is holy, and sin makes us unfit for His kingdom.

(That’s the bad news. Here’s the “good news” – the gospel!) When Jesus Christ willingly died on the cross, a death He didn’t deserve, He was taking the punishment for our sins. If we believe that, and if we put our faith in Him as our Savior, our sins are paid for! Now we are clean and fit for His kingdom, and when we die, we get to spend eternity with Him instead of separated from Him.

To prove the reality of the Resurrection, Jesus rose from the grave on the third day. As incredible as this is, His resurrection is one of the most well documented events in ancient history, verified by many eyewitnesses, who were willing to go to their deaths rather than deny that Jesus is alive!

Believing on Jesus does not make us automatically live a sinless life. We are fallen creatures, and as long as we are in this fallen world, we will not be perfect. But Jesus promised His followers that the Holy Spirit would come to live in us, and with His help, we can say “no” to sin and “yes” to God. Our lives will be transformed. Sometimes this transformation is sudden and startling to those around us. Other times it’s a gradual change. But we will find that when we are serving the living God, we are no longer slaves to our sin. And we have daily access to our heavenly Daddy. No need to go through other channels; all we have to do is say His name.

Prayer: Daddy God, thank You for giving us direct access to Your throne room any time we are willing to come. We have not been willing often enough! Forgive our foolishness, as we come to You now, without anything or anyone coming between us. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Are You Praying to the Wrong Person?

Are You Praying to the Wrong Person? Part II: Saints

The priest of Zeus, whose temple was just outside the city, brought bulls and wreaths to the city gates, because he and the crowd wanted to offer sacrifices to [Paul and Barnabas]. But when the apostles Paul and Barnabas heard of this, they tore their clothes and rushed out into the crowd, shouting, “Men, why are you doing this? We too are only men, human like you. We are bringing you good news, telling you to turn from these worthless things to the living God, who made heaven and earth and sea and everything in them.” – Acts 14:13-15

Most of us have heard the admonition, “Don’t shoot the messenger.” In other words, when the news is upsetting, some people take out their anger or grief on the one who delivers the news. Although tempting, this course of action is inappropriate.

In the book of Acts we read about a case where the opposite was happening. The lesson here is, “When the news is good, don’t worship the messenger!”

Paul had been used by God to heal a man in the city of Lystra, where the people worshiped multiple Greek gods. Seeing the miracle, they shouted “The gods have come down to us in human form!” They believed that Barnabas was Zeus, and that Paul, being the chief speaker, was Hermes, the messenger god. (Acts 14:11-12)

Some people today might find the misunderstanding mildly amusing, and no one could blame the apostles if they took the attention as a compliment. On the contrary, these men were distressed – so distressed they tore their clothes – a sign of extreme grief, anger, or loss. While the egos of some men might have enjoyed the kind of attention the apostles received, Paul and Barnabas were horrified. They had come with a glorious message, and the people misunderstood. Consequently, their reaction was the opposite of what it should have been. To the apostles, the twisted message was appalling, because the real message was so wonderful.

This was the true message: Contrary to the beliefs that were prevalent in those days – that there were many gods, with varying personalities and demands – there was only one true God, and He loved the world so much He gave His only Son, Jesus, to give His life for our salvation. The great news for the people of Lystra was that they no longer had to make endless sacrifices in an effort to atone for their sins and please their various gods with their changing moods. Jesus, the One and Only Son of God, had already made the ultimate sacrifice – Himself! Their sins were paid for! The only thing remaining necessary to receive God’s favor was to repent and trust Jesus as Savior and Lord.

Fast forward: In light of this account, how do you suppose the apostles feel about being worshiped and prayed to now? I’m guessing if they could speak to us today, they would say, “Remember, we were human, just like you! Remember the message we brought! Worship the God we served!”

The Church is the Body of Christ, and like a human body, Christ’s Body has different parts that work together. We have different gifts, different personalities, different ministries and mission fields. The stories of the first Christians, as well as accounts of Christians who lived more recently, are told to inspire us to do the kinds of things they did – to worship the God they worshiped, to serve the One they served.

These people came in a wide variety of personalities, situations, and challenges, so most of us can find at least one we can relate to. These differences aren’t so we can identify the patron saint of music or the patron saint of athletics or the patron saint of medicine and pray to one of them, depending on the situation. How is that really any different from worshiping many gods and thinking, I’m going on a cruise tomorrow, I’d better pray to the god of the sea?

Maybe you don’t pray to saints. Good for you. But do you have other “Christian idols” in your life? Do you have a favorite pastor, radio preacher, or other Christian personality that you like to follow? Do you mold every one of your beliefs after what that person says? Godly Christian preachers, teachers, and evangelists are wonderful. They can teach us a lot and help us grow. But we should never make one person a substitute for our own study of God’s Word and our own prayer time. Jesus formed His Church out of many types of people, so we could be interdependent on one another while at the same time being totally dependent on Him. Making a flawed human into a god (consciously or unconsciously) is not only offensive to the Lord; it is also totally unfair to that person.

Replacing God with anything or anyone else, is idolatry. This is perhaps the most serious sin of all, not only because it is a lie (That person or thing is not God.) but because it breaks His heart. The Bible speaks of idolatry as “adultery,” the grievous sin of being an unfaithful bride.

No, the Good News – the Gospel – is that there is only one God, and He loves you! Believe in Him. Worship Him. Pray to Him. Trust Him to get you through life – He will!

Besides, if you look to saints, they will say, “Don’t look to me, look to Jesus!“

Prayer: Lord, Jesus, we are prone to look to something or someone we see, rather than the unseen God that You are. Forgive us and help us to keep the right perspective when we look at those Christians we admire. Help us to follow good examples, but never to put one another on pedestals. Help us to stay off pedestals ourselves and not give in to the temptations of our egos. In Jesus’ name, Amen.