Once in Royal David's City

I'll continue blogging about lesser known Advent and Christmas hymns, turning to one of my favorites: "Once in Royal David's City." You can listen to a beautiful version from King's College, Cambridge by clicking here. The music was composed by Henry Gauntlett in 1858, and the lyrics by Cecil Alexander in 1848 (also the author of the lyrics to the hymn "All Things Bright and Beautiful").

Here are the lyrics to this wonderful hymn:

Once in royal Davids city,

Stood a lowly cattle shed,

Where a mother laid her Baby,

In a manger for His bed:

Mary was that mother mild,

Jesus Christ, her little Child.

He came down to earth from heaven,

Who is God and Lord of all,

And His shelter was a stable,

And His cradle was a stall:

With the poor, and mean, and lowly,

Lived on earth our Savior holy.

For He is our childhood's pattern;

Day by day, like us, He grew;

He was little, weak, and helpless,

Tears and smiles, like us He knew;

And He feels for all our sadness,

And he shares in all our gladness.

And our eyes at last shall see Him,

Through His own redeeming love;

For that Child so dear and gentle,

Is our Lord in heaven above:

And He leads His children on,

To the place where He is gone.

Not in that poor lowly stable

With the oxen standing by

We shall see Him, but in heaven,

Set at God's right hand on high:

There His children gather round

Bright like stars, with glory crowned.

What I love about this hymn, besides the music (which is beautiful and stirring, without being sentimental), is the simple way in which the humanity and deity of Christ are put together. Christmas hymns usually emphasize one of these aspects of Christ

Notice in the second verse: "He comes down to earth from heaven, Who is God and Lord of all" emphasizing His pre-incarnate divinity. Yet the rest of that verse goes like this: "And his shelter was a stable, and His cradle was a stall. With the poor and meek and lowly, Lived on earth our Savior holy."*

The juxtaposition of His divinity and humanity continues in the next two verses (3 & 4), one beautifully emphasizes His humanity, the other His divinity. Verse 3 notes (among other things) that He was "little, weak, and helpless." We more often prefer to reflect on Jesus' power and strength, His majesty and authority - all of which He certainly has! But there was a time when He became very little, very weak, and completely helpless. Philippians 2:6-7 emphasizes this point, which sends some Christian thinkers and theologians squirming for reinterpretation. How can this be!

Yet if He became one of us, truly one of us, He had to grow up "Day by day, like us..." He had to learn to speak, to eat, to dress Himself, to take care of His bodily needs. Even at 12, when He was at least beginning to understand something about Who He was, He was still growing in favor with God and people (Luke 2:52 - the Greek imperfect tense emphasizes that His growing up took place over time).

Did He shed tears and did He smile? Yes He did! In Luke 10:21 we read that Jesus was "full of joy through the Holy Spirit." This joy was noticed by those who reported it to Luke. It's likely that His facial expression was much more than a mild grin! He wasn't just happy, He was "full of joy!" He also shed tears next to the grave of His friend Lazarus. The shortest verse in the Bible records that "Jesus wept" (John 11:35). Unlike the perhaps sentimentalistic "No crying He makes" of Silent Night, Jesus probably cried as an infant too. How else does an infant let its mother know that its hungry, or needing a diaper change, or needs to be burped, or is in some other way in need of something?

Do I even need to mention Hebrews 4:15-16?

That third verse needs to be set along side the fourth, where this same dear and gentle Jesus is now our Lord in heaven above. For those who prefer their Jesus merely human, Mrs. Alexander re-emphasizes His divinity. She reminds us that this very same Jesus has gone to prepare a place for us, and will return to take us there (John 14:2-3).

The last verse (lamentably absent in some versions of this hymn), points us to the whole purpose of the incarnation: the family reunion of God the Father with His children. Not only that, but God's intention and plan is that we will be crowned with a never fading glory (1Peter 5:4). Like the prodigal son returning home to be a slave, the Father will greet us with joy, welcome us as His children, clothe us with righteousness and crown us with glory and we will dwell in the house of the Lord forever (Psalm 23:6)!

He came down and became one of us, to lift us up to be with Him and the Father and the Holy Spirit, and all the heavenly hosts in never ending bliss and glory!

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*For the purposes of this blog, I'll disregard the likely inaccuracy of a cattle shed, a stable and stall (verse 2). He was laid in a manger, but there is no other indication that this birth took place in anything we would recognize as a barn or cattle shed (regardless of the traditional manger scenes so familiar this time of year). It's very unlikely that it was a "shed," since wood is very scarce in the region. Most homes were built of stone (limestone, basalt, and similar indigenous material). Even the manger was likely hewn from a block of limestone, rather than built of wood (many of these mangers, dating from even before this time, have been excavated in the holy land). Certainly the Biblical account does emphasize the poverty into which Jesus was born and these cultural reinterpretations certainly don't damage that important part of the message.

Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silence

I'd like to reflect on another Christmas hymn that isn't full of smiles and denials. Okay. I'm not trying to say anything negative about joyful Christmas hymns. Really. I love them and enjoy singing them. My only problem with the hymns we usually sing, is that what they evoke from our hearts and our spirits is pretty much the same thing: joy, happiness, and other up-beat sorts of emotions and attitudes. I'm not objecting to that per se, Only to the monotone happy-clappy expectations and experiences of the Advent and Christmas seasons, which too often become a mask for those emotions and attitudes not quite so welcome this time of year.

So here's another hymn that draws out other parts of us as we contemplate the amazing event of the incarnation of Jesus.

Let all mortal flesh keep silence,
and with fear and trembling stand;
ponder nothing earthly minded,
for with blessing in his hand,
Christ our God to earth descendeth,
our full homage to demand.

That's a little different than Joy to the World, or Go Tell it on the Mountain, isn't it? Remember: I've got nothing against those songs and hope we all sing them with gusto! But notice how different it is: keep silence, stand with fear and trembling, stop thinking as earthly minded... As we sing it, the hymn pulls out of things we didn't know we wanted to say until we sang them.

Here's a version of this sung by Fernando Ortega: Click here.

Hymn History

This Christmas hymn wasn't originally a Christmas hymn at all. The lyrics were translated from an ancient Greek and Syrian Orthodox liturgy that traces possibly as far back as James the Lesser, bishop of Jerusalem. The Greek text could be as old as the 2nd Century, though some date it as late as the 5th. Either way, it's a very old song!* Originally, the words were chanted as part of the Eucharist (Lord's Supper) liturgy, and as far as I know, still are in parts of the Orthodox world. This connection is evident in the second stanza (see below).

In 1864 the words were translated (paraphrased really) into English and set to poetic meter (8.7.8.7.8.7), by Gerard Moultrie, It was more than 40 years later that Ralph Vaughan-Williams connected the lyrics of Moultrie with the French tune "Picardy" in 1906, revising the harmony of that tune in the beautiful way we have it today.

Comments on the Hymn

The opening line takes it's cue from Habakkuk 2:20 But the Lord is in his holy temple; let all the earth be silent before him.” The connection to the birth of Jesus is in the fact that when Jesus became incarnate, his body was the temple (John 2:21). He was the place where the presence of God was among His people. 

The fact of the incarnation is such an astounding doctrine, that it would be blasphemy to suggest it, if Scripture did not reveal it to be true. Imagine this: God is born. This truth is so astounding, theologies have been developed which avoided the mind-whirling truth it proclaims. Very early, some began to suggest that Jesus wasn't born Divine, but became Divine through his obedience. Others suggested he wasn't really in the flesh at all, but only seemed to be. Both of those doctrines were challenged and declared heresy by the early church. 

We accept the truth of the incarnation (God made flesh) without pondering it much. Which is one of the reasons I love this hymn: ponder nothing earthly minded as we stand before our incarnate God. Ponder heavenly things. 

Ponder the truth of God made flesh. A God who could be seen with human eyes, be touched with human hands, be heard with human ears (1John 1:1-4). The same God who created the universe (John 1:1-3) emptied himself and took on human form (John 1:14; Philippians 2:6-8). 

John 1:14 hints at something our English versions tend to gloss over in their translations. The first part of that verse literally says "The Word became flesh and pitched His tent among us." If we wanted to use an Old Testament term, we could translate that verse this way "The Word became flesh and tabernacled among us." 

That's right. When Jesus was walking around on this planet, he was the tabernacle of God: the place where the presence of God dwelt with His people.

Let me give you the other verses:

King of kings, yet born of Mary,
As of old on earth He stood,
Lord of lords, in human vesture,
In the body and the blood;
He will give to all the faithful
His own self for heavenly food.

Rank on rank the host of heaven
Spreads its vanguard on the way,
As the Light of light descendeth
From the realms of endless day,
That the powers of hell may vanish
As the darkness clears away.

At His feet the six winged seraph,
Cherubim with sleepless eye,
Veil their faces to the presence,
As with ceaseless voice they cry:
Alleluia, Alleluia
Alleluia, Lord Most High!

Let me comment briefly on the Biblical background for these verses:

In the second verse we remember that Jesus is the Bread of Life (John 6:35, 58), who as incarnate, will give himself for us ultimately on the cross. The third and fourth verses take their cue not only from Luke 2, but also from Isaiah 6 and Revelation 4, the actual throne-room of God. There angels surround the throne, attend the King of kings and sing constantly in His presence.

We also see in these verses that one of the reasons Jesus came is to destroy the powers of hell (1John 3:8), as the light overcomes the darkness (John 1:5).

The song begins in contemplative silence and ends in  joy-filled, angelic praise! But as it does so, it draws that praise out of us from a deeper place than we often find it. The hymn also pairs joy and adoration in a way rarely found in any hymn, or other song of worship.

I don't know what the wind is blowing through your life during this Advent and Christmas season. Maybe it's the sort of stuff that makes joy easy to find. Maybe not. Either way, stop. Quiet yourself to contemplate until you gasp at the staggering truth of the incarnation: God made flesh. Because when we find our joy in Him, in Who He is and what He has done, rather than our always changing life circumstances, that joy can never be taken from us.

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*If you're interested, the original opening line in Greek is this: Σιγησάτω πᾶσα σάρξ βροτεία (literally: "Let keep silent all flesh mortal").

O Come, O Come Emmanuel

In all the razzle and dazzle of the North American Christmas season--with the lights, the songs on the radio, the red and green decorations, the shopping, a large man with a white beard and funny clothes., etc.--it's not hard to see how the Christ of Christmas often gets forgotten, or simply assigned an important seat among many.

I don't want to be a Scrooge or a Grinch, and I'm not calling for a ban on Christmas, as the Puritans did. Although it could be argued that the secularized Christmas they objected to, isn't all that different from the secularized Christmas observed in our day.

What I do want to do is call to mind that Christmas isn't all about nice feelings, family and presents. It's not even simply about Christ being born. It's also about our need for Christ to be born--our need for a Savior.

Somewhere around or before 1100 A.D. an anonymous poet created a metrical version of an even older song, which was later set to the tune we now know as "O Come, O Come Emmanuel." Strangely, this hymn, more than any other, is subject to a great amount of variation. I've not yet found two hymn books that agree on the lyrics! Searching the internet finds multiple versions that include different verses, or variations on verses. Still there is one common theme in all of them: Come, O Come Emmanuel, because things are really bad without You, and You are our only hope.

Maybe you missed that about this familiar hymn (if it is familiar to you). You can listen to a traditional choral version of this here. Here are the lyrics (at least one version of them) to the verses:

O come, O come, Emmanuel,

And ransom captive Israel,

That mourns in lonely exile here

Until the Son of God appear.

O come, Thou Day-spring, come and cheer

Our spirits by Thine advent here;

Disperse the gloomy clouds of night,

And death’s dark shadows put to flight.

O come, Desire of nations, bind

In one the hearts of all mankind;

Bid Thou our sad divisions cease,

And be Thyself our King of Peace.

O come, Thou Branch of Jesse's stem

Unto Thine own and rescue them!

From depths of hell Thy people save,

And give them vict'ry o'er the grave.

There's also a chorus, but let's consider the verses on their own for a moment. Do you see the words: captive, mourns and lonely in the first verse? How about gloomy clouds of night and death's dark shadow in the second? Now take a look at the other verses. What do you see there?

Now, there are other, less mournful verses sometimes associated with this song, but did you ever notice the desperate pleading in this hymn before (assuming you've heard it)?

One of the reasons I love this old hymn is that it reminds us of how much we need a Savior: our situation actually is overwhelming; we cannot save ourselves; without a Savior, we are doomed. Few Christmas hymns capture that desperation, let alone celebrate it!

But we do have a Savior and He has come to us and He will come again!

Here is the chorus to that same hymn (to be sung after each verse):

Rejoice! Rejoice!

Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

These days, it's becoming more popular in some circles to once again embrace the Biblical concept of lament. We find Psalms of lament (Psalm 5, 102, for example), and poems of lament in some of the prophets (the whole book of Lamentations, for example). In lament we give voice to our pain, our loss, our desperation and neediness. Lament is entirely proper.

Yet, I would argue that lament that doesn't resolve to or point toward hope at some point, isn't Christian lament. Lament that merely wallows in self-pity is ultimately a self-centered lament; it is the selfishness of Jacob losing Joseph and refusing to be comforted (Genesis 37:35). Christian lament must yield to faith and trust in God, it must go beyond experience to the Truth that puts experience in its proper place. 

This hymn captures that well. Even while Israel is captive, mourning and lonely, even when the gloomy clouds of night feel like death's dark shadow, even while our sad divisions are not ceasing, or when hell and the grave seem to claim more victories than they ought, even then "Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to thee...!"

This is what faith in a good God looks like when things aren't good. We rejoice, knowing--knowing!--that Emmanuel (God with us) shall come to us. He will! Standing in faith, we re-align our emotions with the Truth of Who God is. Truth, that first piece of the armor of God--the belt that is placed over our guts (where we feel emotion!). We turn our face from our pain, our loss, our desperation, and our neediness, toward the One Who heals, Who blesses, Who comforts, and Who is Emmanuel, God with us.

During this advent season, my wife is going through chemotherapy. It's not all razzle-dazzle, blinking lights and happy songs in our house. But there is rejoicing. Emmanuel has come! Emmanuel is with us now! Emmanuel will come again! Of this we have no doubt.

Maranatha, Come Lord Jesus!

Lessons from a Little One

Last week Marcia and I visited our first grandchild and his parents. Joshua Conrad DeRuiter is about a month old and doing very well.

Joshua Conrad DeRuiter

Of course it was wonderful meeting him, taking care of him and being with his parents, Jon and Laura in West Olive, Michigan. We convinced them to leave a couple of times so we could have grandparent time with just him (they thought we were being altruistic). Most of the time we had with him was marvelous and amazing.

And Then Again...

Little ones come to young parents for a reason, I think. They aren't all coos and wonder. Sometimes they have needs, or wants, or discomforts, or hurts, or combinations of the above and you're not sure what to do. Infants aren't very good at taking other people's needs into consideration either; they're high maintenance creatures.

Jon and I both reflected on this, as pastors/preachers (my son Jon is also an ordained minister in the CRC). The little guy sometimes knows he needs something, but he's not even sure what it is he needs, or what will take care of that need. In fact, sometimes he gets so upset that he will reject the thing will actually take care of the need (feeding or sleep) - though with some insistence he'll eventually calm down enough to give it a try.

Typical.

How often do we do the same?

Joshua is older and more mature in relation to his father and grandfather--by percentage--than we are in relation to the Everlasting God. Think about it. How old is God compared to us? How much more does He know, by experience alone! Yet we think we know our needs and how to meet them, or just as arrogantly: how God should meet them. And when God gives us what we actually do need, how often do we slap it out of His loving hand as irrelevant?

I don't mean that we should accept everything that comes our way. No! Some things come to us from our and God's enemies: the world, the flesh and the devil. If it comes to steal, kill or destroy, it comes from the thief (John 10:10) and we should resist it with all we have (even though God can turn every one of those attacks to our advantage - Rom. 8:28).

However, sometimes an opportunity comes our way, or a friend, or a spiritual gift, or something else that seems to come unexpectedly and in a season when we're asking God to help us through some struggle. At first glance we might pass over what comes because it doesn't seem relevant to what God is doing, or what we want and are asking Him to do. Yet, it comes as God's gift to meet the actual need of our heart.

I don't know about you, but sometimes, just like little Joshua, I'm not sure what I need. I think about it and decide what I need is a new job, or a certain spiritual gift, or someone to co-write songs with. What He gives doesn't seem (at first) to fit: I get changed, He changes my thinking and experience with spiritual gifts and He builds a worship band that takes what I write to a whole other level.

I know. I know. We can get good things or opportunities for them, that are actually distractions from God's actual calling on us (in fact, they come all the time). It sometimes takes careful discernment (usually in the context of community) to know what is from God and what isn't. On the other hand, when skepticism (or unexamined optimism) begins to substitute for discernment, we get into trouble: we reject a genuine gift from God, or accept what God isn't giving in exchange for what He has given, or is giving.

Returning to Trust

At some point, even when we know we cannot be 100% certain about how well we discern, we have to trust our Father in heaven. He knows our imperfections; He knows we sometimes miss it; He knows us and yet He gives knowing what we need. He knows what we need before we even ask (Matthew 6:8). He knows our hearts and the actual needs of our hearts, even if we, like little Joshua, don't know how to express those needs, or even get it wrong! Joshua has no word for pain or tummy, so if he has gas pains he just cries (very loudly!). We may not know that the need of our heart is for intimacy with Him, and so we cry out for recognition by our peers. We may not know that the need of our heart is to be genuinely loved in the community of God's people, and so we cry out for the sort of companionship (or whatever) that can never satisfy.

At some point, we need to cry out in faith, and then wait in faith for God's response. When we need to cry out, we need to cry out trusting that a loving, responsive and all-powerful Father is listening. A "cry-baby" might cry out to manipulate his/her parents, and there are those who would cry out to God that way. That's dumb. You can't put God on a guilt trip; He never goes down that road. But we don't need to manipulate an all-powerful Father Who is both loving and responsive. He will meet the need of our heart, even if we don't know what it is, or if we get it wrong. That's what God is like.

Unlike human parents (and grandparents), God doesn't need to guess and use trial and error to figure out how to meet our needs. He knows our hearts. He knows them better than we do. And He knows how to meet those needs.

Do you believe that?

Changing the Way We Think

I want to do some reflecting on this passage (and a few others) today:

Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. (Romans 12:2 - NIV)  

Here's the same passage in the New Living Translation:

Don’t copy the behavior and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think. Then you will learn to know God’s will for you, which is good and pleasing and perfect.  

The Power of our Cultural Worlds

Each of us live in a world. I don't mean merely on a planet, but in a world of thoughts, ideas, assumptions, customs and perspectives. We do certain things the way we do them, because "everyone knows" that's how they're supposed to be done. For example, in the United States, when we meet someone it is customary to shake hands. In parts of Asia, in meeting someone it is customary to bow. In parts of Europe and Latin America in meeting someone it is customary to kiss the cheek (or the "air" next to the cheek). In all of these worlds, "everyone knows" the most polite way to meet someone.

The same is true of how we understand the world works. In parts of India one is born into a caste, and that determines the limits and opportunities of one's entire life. One is not expected, and in some places not allowed, to break out of one's caste. In the U.S. we celebrate individuals who rise from poverty to success in business, medicine, or politics and see the circumstances of one's birth as challenges to overcome, not the assignments of fate.

Further, nearly everyone who grows up into their world, believes their world's ways of doing things are the "right" ways--the best ways. I could go on, and talk about how we understand punctuality, marriage and family, economics, individuality and family/cultural duty, and more, but I hope you get the point. Sociologists call this system of values and behaviors "culture." It is impossible to grow up in this world and not learn a culture. We do this as naturally as we learn the language we consider our mother tongue.

Those who have lived in more than one culture understand this in ways that those who haven't cannot. Am I right?

Adopting Heaven's Culture

I was first exposed to the concept of a culture of Heaven at a conference at Bethel church in Redding, California. I don't know why I'd never thought of it this way before. Without going into the content of that conference, I'd like to talk a bit about how that concept intersects with our verse above.

The "pattern of this world" (NIV) or the "behavior and customs of this world" (NLT) is a direct reference to what we would call "culture." While we could (and must!) say that each culture contains within it elements of the culture of Heaven, we cannot say that any culture fully expresses the culture of heaven. In fact, as we speak of individuals being fallen image-bearers of God, so we must speak of cultures as fallen as well.

To adopt Heaven's culture, we must change the way we think. In fact, we must change the very framework within which we think. We need to change our paradigms of thought. As our text above puts it we must be transformed by the renewing of [our] minds (NIV). This does not mean to think better so much as to think differently.

In Western culture one of the ways we are captive to our culture is the pervasive "scientific" and "naturalistic" mind-set that leaves no room for God, a spiritual realm, or the miraculous. Everything must have a "scientific" explanation (meaning: an explanation that doesn't need God or spiritual beings to work). The Bible does not have that mindset. Neither does Heaven. (I wrote about some of this before here.)

The culture of Heaven is a set of values and behaviors that actually does shape reality (and not merely our perception of it)! But what are they and how do we find out?

Probably the best way to begin to understand the culture of Heaven is to look at Jesus. In the gospel of John Jesus says “I tell you the truth, the Son can do nothing by himself. He does only what he sees the Father doing. Whatever the Father does, the Son also does" (Jn 5:19). At least in terms of behaviors, we can learn something of the culture of Heaven by looking at Jesus. We can also learn something of the values of Heaven by interpreting why and how He did the things He did. As we do, we see in Scripture that a huge motivating factor for in the life of Christ is love. In fact, love explains the entire enterprise (John 3:16). 

However, I don't think we can get there from here without some serious help! We cannot transform our own minds. We don't have the power, nor the "raw materials" to do it. 

David, when confronted by his sin with Bathsheba composed Psalm 51, in which he writes Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me (Psalm 51:10). Just a little later he adds: grant me a willing spirit to sustain me (Psalm 51:12b). David realized that he didn't just need to try harder, he needed to be changed from within. He needed more than an adjustment, or a remodeling, he needed a remake. 

Paul has a similar lament in Romans 7 (verses 7,ff). His way out of the dilemma is not to redouble his efforts and "do better next time" (how many of us have tried that!). The solution for him is the Holy Spirit: The mind governed by the flesh is death, but the mind governed by the Spirit is life and peace. (Romans 8:6). Literally that verse says (my translation from the Greek text): The mind of the flesh is death, but the mind of the Spirit is life and peace. I wouldn't argue about control or governance here, but I would point out that the difference is not merely control, but of substance. The mind of flesh doesn't need a mere adjustment; it doesn't need to be run better; it needs to be changed into something that it is not. It needs to become the mind of the Spirit, sometimes called the mind of Christ (1Cor. 2:16).

Our western world tells us that with hard work we can become whatever we want. Without thinking, we assume that if we have not become spiritual enough, or moral enough, or do not exhibit the fruit of the Spirit enough, that the solution is to try harder. But no matter how hard we pull on our bootstraps, we cannot lift ourselves out of the mud! We need help! In fact we need a transformation. Our mind needs to be remade in order to align it with the culture of Heaven.

So What Do We Do?

If we can't do it and the Spirit must, what must we do so that the Spirit will do what only He can do? 

The answer to that, I'm convinced is simple, but not easy. We must submit our minds to the Spirit, and we must pray, asking the Spirit to transform our minds. These are really not two separate things, but two aspects of one thing. Feel free to reverse the order, if it helps.

Submitting our minds to the Spirit includes laying down all of our assumptions and letting Him speak Truth into us. When Jesus said You will know the truth and the truth will set you free (John 8:32), He was talking about holding to (literally remaining/continuing in) His his message (see Jn 8:31). By "truth" here John doesn't mean simply that which is not false, but that which conforms to the culture of Heaven--that which is most truly true. In contrast to half-truths, or partial truths, or even things that are mostly true, that which is fully true. Jesus described that truth this way "I am telling you what I have seen in the Father's presence" (John 8:38a)

We need the Truth of Heaven, not only because it can fill our minds, but because it transforms our minds, it changes them. The Truth of Heaven is not only the content of that Truth , but the shape of it (its paradigms) as well. Yet we can only appropriate that truth and hold onto it as true as empowered by the Spirit to do so. Only the Holy Spirit can transform our minds so that we can begin to think the way Heaven thinks.

Sometimes we try to behave our way into the Kingdom (change from the outside, in). But what we hear the Scriptures saying is that we can't do it that way. We need our hearts and minds changed (change from the inside, out). The changed heart will do the things Jesus asks because the changed heart is designed to do so--it prefers to obey: Those who live according to the flesh have their minds set on what the flesh desires; but those who live in accordance with the Spirit have their minds set on what the Spirit desires (Romans 8:5).

Pray with me:

Create in me a pure heart, O God. Renew a right spirit within me. Give me a willing spirit to sustain me. 

I submit my mind, my heart, my will, my thoughts and the very way I think to You. Holy Spirit lead me in the way of Truth. I choose to let go of the pattern of my world, with it's behaviors and customs and hold on instead to the culture of Heaven. Renew me by the transformation of my mind. Give me the mind of Christ. Conform me to the image of your Son.

 I pray this believing that You desire to answer this prayer even more than I desire that You do. I pray this believing as You answer this prayer, it will bring glory to the Name of Jesus.

(Un)Dignity in Worship

Carrying the Presence

Historical Background:

David had it in his heart to take the ark up from Kiriath-Jearim (see 1Samuel 6:21-7:1), where it had been since the Philistines returned it (see 1Sam. 5-6), and before Saul was anointed King (1Sam. 10:1). We read about his first failed attempt and second successful attempt in 2Samuel 6. This is some time after David has been king, conquered Jerusalem, and is beginning to enjoy a time of relative stability.

Excessive or Expressive?

What I want us to notice today is in both the failed and successful attempts to bring up the ark, the worship appears to be excessive and noisy (at least by Reformed standards of worship!). The first time we read this: "David and all Israel were celebrating with all their might before the Lord, with castanets, harps, lyres, timbrels, sistrums and cymbals" (2Sam. 6:5).  During the second time the worship seems even louder: "Wearing a linen ephod, David was dancing before the Lord with all his might, while he and all Israel were bringing up the ark of the Lord with shouts and the sound of trumpets" (2Sam. 6:14–15).

Now, for those champions of decorum in worship, we might have expected a less expressive, a less noisy and more dignified worship after a failed attempt. After all, didn't the first attempt fail because of the lack of respect Uzzah had for the ark (2Sam.6:7), what the Bible describes as "his irreverent act"? After all, isn't all this noise and hullabaloo also wildly irreverent too?

The Regulative Principle 

There's this really weird thing in Reformed theology called the Regulative Principle. The intent of this is right: God should only be worshiped in the way Scripture prescribes that He should be worshiped. It was created during the Reformation, ostensibly to get rid of a lot of superstition that had crept into the Church during the Middle Ages (or perhaps just to be "not Roman Catholic").

The weird thing about this principle is that it is so unevenly applied. Certain things are accepted as prescribed in Scripture, other expressions of worship found in Scripture are not understood this way. I believe this is because the principle has come to be filtered through cultural assumptions. For example, although Psalm 150:4 says "Praise Him with timbrel and dancing," Some object when someone actually plays a timbrel (tambourine?) and certainly if they would dance in a worship service. Or how about "Shout for joy to the Lord all the earth" (Psalm 100:1)? How do we Reformed types feel about shouting for joy during a worship service? Although these things are actually commanded in Scripture (they are in the imperative voice), we somehow believe that these things are not valid for us. Where is the principle?

Dignity and Humility in Worship

 As David brings up the ark to Jerusalem, he dances with all his might, stripping down to his undergarments (possibly to be able to move more freely - or maybe he just got hot). His wife Michal, daughter of Saul, despises David for his wild dancing (2Sam. 6:16); she objects to all this as a vulgar display (2Sam.6:20). In other words, David is not acting as a king should act. He is not behaving with the dignity with which a king should act before his subjects.

David's response is meant to teach her and us about worship: "It was before the Lord..." he says. While Michal's concern is the people, David's focus is the Lord. Often in worship people will or won't do certain things because "what will other people think?" Or, if someone seems to cross some imaginary culture boundary of propriety, they will judge that person as acting in an improper way (and may even talk to the pastor about it!). This is a Michal-like response. Michal, by the way, isn't worshiping God at all, she's just watching--and judging.

To further turn on its head the way Reformed Regulative Principle is often understood and applied, David says "I will celebrate before the Lord! I will become even more undignified than this, and I will be humiliated in my own eyes," (from 2Sam.6:21-22). In other words, David is saying that in his celebration before the Lord, he is only beginning to explore the bounds of expressive celebration. He doesn't care one wit about his dignity. He doesn't care what other people think about him, or even what he thinks about himself! Personal dignity in worship is not the issue!

In this chapter, the phrase "before the Lord" occurs six times. Michal missed it; she missed the significance of this event and even more importantly she missed the Lord's presence among His people! Her focus was completely wrong, and therefore so was her assessment of David's expression of celebration before God.

I would never suggest that exorbitant celebration is the only proper form of worship. Of course not! It's also important to be quiet before the Lord (Psalm 46:10; Habakkuk 2:20, for example). But silence isn't the only form of worship. There is a time for quietness and a time for loud celebration.

All the Colors of Worship

Worship has many forms, many shapes, many colors, many sounds. It may be in a minor key, or a major one, Dorian or Mixolidian. It may be blue or yellow, gray or red. It may find the shape of high liturgy, or the freedom of total spontaneity. It may be all of those and blends of all of those. 

One thing worship is not is monotone, or monochromatic. Reading the Psalms, the worship book of the Bible, we find a very wide variety of expression. It's hard to think of an emotion that can't be found in the Psalms in some form or other, as all our emotions belong to God in worship.

I suppose there may be such a thing as excess in worship among some groups. I suppose that there are people who get so carried away that they actually are more interested in their wildness and freedom in worship than the One they claim to be worshiping. I don't think that's an issue among us Reformed types. If anything, we're more inclined to hold back too much. We take "decently and in order" out of its context: "do all things" (including speaking in tongues and prophesying in worship - 1Corinthians 14). I suspect the Reformed understanding of "decently and in order" is not the same as God's.

As David shows in this passage, and throughout the psalms that he wrote, God's greatness requires everything in us that can praise Him. This includes singing, playing musical and rhythm instruments, shouting, blowing trumpets, dancing, as well as tears, quietness, peace. It includes the type of joy that that's noisy and the type of joy that's at rest. 

God deserves our worship in all of its colors. Let's not outlaw certain of them because they don't fit our assumptions. Let's recapture the regulative principle and turn it on it's head: if it's in the Bible and it's not condemned there, it's okay for us too!

The Table That the Crumbs Fall From

...even the dogs...

In one of the most unusual stories of Jesus in the New Testament, a gentile woman comes to Jesus on behalf of her demonized young daughter. Jesus seems to at first ignore her (Matt. 15:23), and then rebuff her (Matt. 15:24), and finally insult her by comparing her to a dog (Matt. 15:26). At this time dogs were not so much pets as they were scavengers. Dogs are always depicted in a negative light in Scripture. Dogs eat what humans discard. To compare her and all gentiles to dogs is a sharp insult, one that echoes the attitudes of most Jews of Jesus' day--especially the Pharisees.

This doesn't sound like Jesus, does it? Yes, he insulted the members of the religious establishment, but He never once rebuffed anyone coming to Him for help, let alone insult them for trying. Yet, here...

Let's let the dissonance settle in for a bit. Jesus seems to go along with the Jewish assumptions about their superiority. His response to this woman seems to suggest that He also thought that the Jews were not only God's chosen, they deserved to be! Or, at least, the gentiles deserved it less.

But... But... That doesn't sound like Jesus, does it?!

I don't take it that way either. This story comes immediately after challenging some deeply held Jewish beliefs about what makes a person clean or unclean (in both Matthew and Mark's telling of the story). The very context makes us question the assumption that Jesus is playing the Jewish race card here, as racial purity was just as significant as dietary purity for the Jews at this time.

Let's suppose Jesus has already decided what He's going to do in the end--that He's going to grant this woman's request. Let's also suppose that He sees this as a teaching moment. Both assumptions seem to me to fit the way Jesus often responds to new situations. When He was told about Lazarus being sick, He deliberately stayed two more days, in order to teach His disciples about the power of God over death. It was a set up then. I read the "offensive" part of this story as a setup too.

By echoing the assumptions of His day, Jesus exposes these assumptions for what they are: assumptions that fail to reflect the character of God. When He accedes to the woman's statement "Even dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master's table," He confirms her assessment as correct theology: we do not receive from the hand of God because we are deserving, but because His table is bountiful.

This Got Me Thinking

What if she is right on another level? What if she not only recognizes that God will give her what she needs because of Who He is, rather than who she is, but that what she is asking for is trivial? What if she recognizes and Jesus affirms that healing and deliverance are crumbs that fall from the table and not bread eaten at the table?

For one involved in power ministry, especially coming out of a functional cessationism*, it is quite easy to see healing ministry, or the power gifts as the bread, compared to the crumbs of trying to live out of mere theological truths.  It's pretty cool when someone gets healed in front of your eyes, or their life is set free from years of demonic oppression. It really is! It's amazing! I wouldn't trade it for anything and I'll never go back to trying to do Christianity that has no demonstrable power in it.

But what if this woman is right: that compared to eating the bread of the Master's table, healing and deliverance are like crumbs that fall? What if the greater thing actually is eating at the table, in fellowship, as part of God's family?

I don't mean to diminish the importance of the miraculous, the importance of showing God's love for His children demonstrated in healing, deliverance and the like. As I said above, I don't want to ever live without that anymore, and I don't believe for a second that God wants us to!

On the other hand, I've been a part of healing ministry, where someone got healed and then returned to their same lifestyle as before--even doing the things that required them to come for healing! I've seen people delivered in amazing ways, only to return to bitterness and envy. It's crazy! Or is it? Maybe it's just that "crumbs" aren't enough. Maybe we should stop trying to understand crumbs as bread. Maybe we should stop trying to confuse a demonstration of the love of God with an encounter with the love of God.

The Bread At the Table

There is a bread for the children of God that feeds and fills. This bread is more than crumbs that fall from God's table. This bread is bread that is eaten at the table.

If the crumbs that fall are demonstrations of God's power and love, then the bread is that powerful love.

When we consider ourselves outsiders, undeserving ones, anything other than God's real children, we can find ourselves content with crumbs. We deserve no more--and apart from what Jesus has won for us, that's true. But what Jesus has won for us is this: Yet to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God (John 1:12).

In Christ, our proper place is at the table, not fighting for the scraps that fall from it, nor being satisfied with crumbs. Our proper place, our rightful place is as children at the table.

Jesus' purpose for us was to make a way to the Father (John 14:6), and to receive the Father's love (John 14:21, 23). Yet for so many of us, whether within our outside of the charismatic camp, we live our Christian lives expecting no more than crumbs. We live with the assumption that we are dirty dogs, scavenging for crumbs. Yet our proper place is at the table, in loving fellowship with the Triune God. Our proper food is bread loaves, and not merely bread crumbs.

How do we do this? What does this look like to eat bread rather than crumbs? Mostly this is a matter of understanding who we are in Christ, and coming to believe that what Jesus accomplished for us actually applies to us and has been applied to us.

For those who are led by the Spirit of God are the children of God. The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, “Abba, Father.” The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. (Rom. 8:14–16)  

 

It's a done deal. It's accomplished. And while there is more to come, we are sons and daughters now. When we were born again, God became our true Father; we were born into His family. That's not a metaphor, that's the new reality.

As God's children, His sons and daughters, we sit at the table as if we belong, because we do. We go to Him in prayer knowing He'll hear us as our Father. We go out doing what He asks because we trust that as Father He asks us to do what is good, and that He will be with us. We minister to His children knowing He loves them more than we do and wants to show them His love. We spread the Good News so that all God's children can find their proper place at the table too. So much more than getting our head on straight, bodies healed, people delivered, and even sins forgiven, we invite people into their place in God's family.

I hope these musings make sense. I've not said everything that could be said on this story, nor on this topic. I'm pondering what this might all mean, but I know that Abba loves me. Do you?

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*Cessationism is the belief that all so-called power ministry (healing, deliverance, miracles, even speaking in tongues) ceased when the Bible was assembled in the form we have it today (that is, when the canon was closed). A "functional cessationism" doesn't hold to this assumption as theology, so much as simply does not function in any of the so-called "power gifts."