PSALM 98 - Winning From Behind

The Lord has made known His salvation. He has revealed His righteousness in the sight of the nations. He has remembered His steadfast love and faithfulness to the house of Israel. All the ends of the earth have seen the salvation of our God.  (Verses 2-3)

The Lord has bared His holy arm before the eyes of all the nations, and all the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of our God. Depart, depart, go out from there. Touch no unclean thing. Go out from the midst of her. Purify yourselves, you who bear the vessels of the Lord. For you shall not go in haste, and you shall not go in flight, for the Lord will go before you, and the God of Israel will be your rear guard.  Isaiah 52

 The slogan was, "The last one out, turn out the lights!" when, in May of 1967 Egyptian and Syrian troops amassed on Israel's borders, closing the Straits of Tiran to Israeli shipping. Nasser, the Egyptian president, called for the troops to drive the nineteen-year-old nation of Israel into the sea. The small nation's defeat was imminent. Worldwide, nations mourned the death of the Jewish nation prematurely. Forgetting, perhaps, the Jews are God's chosen people.

On June 5, at 7:46 A.M., the Israeli Air Force destroyed the entire Egyptian Air Force before they ever could take off. Israel's planes flew in below the radar tracking of the Egyptians, making the destruction possible. However, the back story is filled with miracles of bumbling and forgetfulness. God going before the planes to scramble the lives of Egyptians and Syrians whose haughty proclamations clearly angered Him. The commander of ground forces, for example, changed all his brigade leaders the night before. None of them knew the terrain. No one knows why he made such a choice. An urgent message that Israel planned to strike within a few minutes made it only to a command bunker, but never to the high commander. It would have saved the Egyptian Air Force. Officers in northern Jordan picked up the scrambling of the Israeli jets and sent a message to command, but the sergeant at the desk used the wrong code in trying to decipher it. The Commander in Chief was hung over from a night of drinking and watching a popular belly dancer when the jets hit. He also had his command to meet with him in the Sinai that morning, so when the strike came, no top officials were on hand to make decisions.

The scenario played out like an Old Testament story of God's intervention where hail storms, dreams and angelic confusion won territory for His people. The Six Day War was no exception to this, either, as Israel expanded its territory into the Golan Heights, the Sinai, the West Bank and, most importantly, the Old City and the Temple Mount. God bared His arm, helping His people in the moment then coming up behind them to confuse and defeat the enemy. In the sight of all the nations. Though none bowed down to Him as some did in the Bible, everyone knew the outcome of the war was a miracle. Israel has been an ominous threat ever since because of it.

We are His people, too. The new Israel, under a new covenant. Redeemed from the grasp of Satan when God not only bore His arm, but His entire person on behalf of His children. That is why we still see Him going before us into the battles we face on a daily basis. As our Father's precious children, we've been made clean in the wake of the battle fought on our behalf. No longer must we fear the enemy as he taunts us that we're unfit for the fight. We've been removed from the midst of his lies and attachments. No longer do we turn tail and run away scared from the devil's accusations. No. For our God has gone before us to make a way, given us the eminence of His family name and walks in front of us down our road. And here's the amazing thing. He also has our backs. Takes up the rear guard, confusing the enemy who would decode His Word to us, pulls down one leader to raise another on our behalf, and distracts the demons with their own folly so we move safely through to victory. Make no mistake, either. Each time we move in the power of His plans, we gain more territory. Get stronger, more confident, wiser and more faithful. And the world has seen us. Scratched their heads that such weaklings could survive and thrive. And the very ones who say today that Israel will be driven into the sea, will one day bow to the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, declaring His preeminence over everything everywhere. Even from hell. Our God is just that big.

 

PSALM 98 - Whew!

Oh, sing to the Lord a new song for He has done marvelous things! His right hand and His holy arm have worked salvation for Him.  (Verse 1)

I waited patiently for the Lord. He inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in God. Psalm 40

Debbie and Charlie were in their alley-facing garage when the man with the gun came suddenly toward them. Threatened to kill them if they didn't hand over what he wanted. Debbie pulled nervously at her wedding ring and Charlie hit his knees and began praying. He wanted to be talking to God in the moment his life was over. A seamless transition from here to there. "Shut up!" the bandit demanded, maybe both irritated and condemned. Then he ran away. The couple left once more in their garage to live another day. Saved.

The little Cambodian girl was only eleven years old when she was discovered wandering the filthy streets of Phnom Penh. Her tattered dress smelled of the garbage dump, and its residue found permanent residence beneath her ragged fingernails. Her eyes searched the landscape for danger even as she begged foreigners for coins or scraps of food. No one loved her. Mother and father were lost--or dead. Unscrupulous men trolled the alleys and streets hoping to find just such a girl to steal her away to Thailand and make money from her body. But Someone saw her there. He showed a young woman this child's need. Foursquare Children of Promise took her into the orphanage in Phnom Penh and washed her fragile body, shampooed the lustrous dark hair of its lice and debris and scrubbed her tiny hands until they shone. She got a new dress that day. And a uniform for school. When I saw her, she was worshipping, with her hands raised and her eyes closed, singing a song of unwavering love to her new Father. Saved.

Cancer emaciated her. Ate away at her body until it couldn't function any more. As she lay there, her mind wandered back to all the good days of her life. Her children and husband. Summer barbecues, walks at the beach, first days of school, last days of school, love, romance and the smell of rain in spring. She'd prayed so long to be rid of the disease that now took her breath from her. And in the quiet of the nights of pain, she lay awake when her household was peacefully asleep and thought of the first day she'd discovered her cancer. Of the words from the doctor's lips. Of her first response, "I am the Lord's." My last conversation with her was heartbreaking because it was our final good-bye. "I know where I'm going, though, Kay." She was choking on her tears. "Thank you for taking my hand and leading me to Jesus." And I cannot respond because all my breath is gone and the tears are running into my mouth. "Good-bye, my precious friend," I finally managed as I held the dead receiver in my hands. And then she left to go to Him, welcomed as the princess that she is. Saved.

It  must be why there is so much singing in heaven. Being saved from all that threatens and destroys on this earth. The sheer relief of salvation. Our bodies go limp, our hearts race and our knees shake. All the worst case scenarios have been thwarted by a Hand that reaches down into our paltry planet life and does for us the impossible. Even in death. For it has been transformed by His great mercy into never-ending life. So whether the pit is real, sticking us in its miry quicksand, or circumstantial, trapping us in our inner life, it still threatens to suck from us our lives. We need a Savior or we'll perish. And oh how glorious for a hand to reach toward us in the last minutes of our drowning to pull us up into the air where we gasp for breath and realize we will no longer die. How can we praise the Rescuer enough, for He saw us as we fought the waters of our demise and loved us too much to let us drown. That should make us want to sing a brand new song! And make spectators turn and look, trying to understand how someone almost finished gets to begin again!

PSALM 97 - Trouble On Your Path?

He preserves the lives of His saints. He delivers them from the hand of the wicked. Light is sown for the righteous, and joy for the upright in heart. Rejoice in the Lord, O you righteous, and give thanks to His holy name!  (Verses 10b-12)

But the path of the righteous is like the light of dawn, which shines brighter and brighter until full day. The way of the wicked is like deep darkness. They do not know over what they stumble. Proverbs 4: 18-19

Trouble on your path today? It doesn't resemble a well-lit freeway with light flooding the nighttime darkness with clarity for miles down the road? You are not alone. But the picture this psalm constructs is so encouraging to me today.

My path is original. Carved out of time and space by my Father. He knows it. I don't. So we journey together toward His goals and dreams for me. Were it lighted to the fullest degree, I wouldn't need my Father's hand. I'd just march on down the road, confident from beginning to end I'll get to my destination. Of course, then it becomes my destination. I take credit for it and can walk it by myself. Don't need God.  Another thing would happen then, too. The excitement of the trek. The thrill of the surprises that pop up in front of me in the way. The joy of discovering the riches that come up to meet me, almost bowling me over in the collision. More than anything, though, I'd miss my Father walking with me. Up the hills, down into the valleys, over oceans and into the arid deserts. I do not want to walk alone.

My path is lit. Not flooded with light, but lit as with a flashlight or oil lamp. A few steps at a time. God, my Father, walks ahead of me sowing light there. I love that picture! He is light and from my God's fingers drop rays of clarity, spotlighting where I should set my feet. No veering to the right or to the left. Eyes on the flashlight. "Step here, child," He says. "Here where you see My footprint." And the leaves blow off the forest floor as if swept away with the broom in my kitchen storage cabinet.

My path is dangerous. There is a thief lurking in the shadows on it every day of my pilgrimage. He wants to destroy me. Grabs at me with all his might. Yells "Boo!" to try and make me retreat. Whispers into the darkness way down the path that I'm a fool for walking in so little light. That my God isn't good and will lead me to destruction, or worse, an empty end. "Come over here and play a while," the enemy woos. "You are tired from this arduous travel down a poorly lit road." And I am tempted, tired and troubled. Confusing voices collide in my head. Maybe I'm going the wrong way. What if God isn't good? And the enemy wrings his hands in glee, chuckles at my perplexity and takes hold of my coattails to pull me from the road.

My path is protected. But my Father hates the Evil One who would pull me into darkness. "Tell him, daughter, that you are Mine!" calls out my God. "Tell him to get off your path. Don't take his hand nor listen to his lies!" And points of light rise up around me illumining not only the Liar but my heart. Would I be so led to darkness when I live in light? Would I break free from the hand of my Father to take the hand of the enemy? My path may be difficult--so many ups and downs--but darkness is impossible. And I can't trust the hands that would take me there.

"You have no right to me, disgusting enemy!" I holler this at him as my Father moves nearer to his face, lighting its visage for me. "Get off my way!"

The enemy shrivels then for my God rescues me from the wicked. We have plans, my Father and I.

My path is well lit behind me. If only I look back to see all the indescribable experiences on the way that have led me to this day on the leaf-covered road, I know, without a doubt, that what is coming up to meet me unexpectedly will be a brilliantly executed addition to the journey. I can see for years, in retrospect and awe, the experiences with my Father on this road trip home have made me rich in relationship. And I've come somewhere! Not just anywhere. And sometimes we skipped, sometimes plodded, once in a while stopped and sat awhile. More than a few times I danced and twirled, more than once I cried with the frustration and confusion of the hike. But always joy in the morning. Sown in the nighttime for my pleasure as the dew settles on the grasses on either side of my walk. And my Father is still there. No matter where. To lead me finally home.

The Lord is God and He has made His light to shine upon us.  Psalm 119:27

PSALM 97 - Anthony Weiner and Women

Zion hears and is glad, and the daughters of Judah rejoice, because of Your judgments, O Lord. For You, O Lord, are most high over all the earth; You are exalted far above all gods.
O you who love the Lord, hate evil!  (Verses 8 -10a)

Once again Anthony Weiner makes his wife, Huma Abedin, stand before a podium while he admits his indiscretions with other women via "sexting." Just as her boss, Hillary Clinton, did earlier, she stands by her man. Despite the fact that he objectifies women, uses them for his own purposes, making her look foolish and simple along with him. Which I'm sure she isn't! Sex has become Weiner's sickness. Carlos Danger is his texting pseudonym. Really? The mayor of San Diego is in trouble, too. Can't seem to keep his potty mouth shut nor his hands off women. There is, of course, a very long list and a very long precedent for men using women. That is why this psalm resonates with me this morning. It is the daughters of Judah who rejoice because God is right in His judgments. I can certainly see why.

Early one morning, a woman was dragged mercilessly through the streets of Jerusalem up to the very steps of the temple where Jesus was sitting and teaching. The temple congregants and scribes who fetched her from her tryst, left the male who lay with her behind. Unimportant to them, as it was the woman who was vulnerable--who caused the problem for the saintly man who'd lain with her until dawn. "What do you say, Jesus? The law says we can stone her. What's your take?"

Of course, we know the story. Jesus asked them a question, "Are you without sin? If so, go ahead. Throw your stones." Then He stooped in the dust and doodled there while the religious men thought the question through. They left. The woman, then alone with Jesus, stood before Him as He told her, "I don't condemn you, either. But don't sin anymore. Don't subject yourself to this kind of treatment any more. You don't have to now." Because God in the flesh looked into her eyes and freed her from her slavery to man. The woman shouldn't have left the circle of accusers alive that day. Should have been reduced to a bloodied heap, dead in the dust of Jerusalem. The law said she deserved that. But somehow Jesus knew her life, understood the objectifying of her womanhood. O daughter of Judah, rejoice in His judgments!

Someone touched the edge of His robe when Jesus walked through a throng of people on His way to heal the daughter of Jairus, one of the rulers of the synagogue. With the crowd pressing in so close, hoping for their own miracle as well as curious about the healing of Jairus's daughter, it should've been impossible for Jesus to discern exactly who touched the hem of his tunic. But He stopped. "Who touched my garment?" He asked. But surely He knew. He'd felt the power go out of Him and into her.

"Really?" asked His disciples. "Look, there's a huge crowd here and You're stopping to ask Who touched You?"

But Jesus waited, looking through the crowd for the woman's face. Oh, she'd been so sick. Menstrual bleeding over the past twelve years depleted her health and all her savings. She was desperate. If only I could touch just His clothes, I will be made well. And the touch was electric. Power surged from Jesus into her broken body, the bleeding ceased immediately and her strength returned in an instant. But she didn't know what to do with the look on His face as His eyes searched the crowd. Would he reprimand her boldness? She was a nobody, unclean and cast off. It took all her courage to nearly crawl to Jesus, pushing past the sweaty crowd which had fallen silent in anticipation, looking for her just as He was. Finally they made way for the tiny woman, knowing she must be the unclean one who'd touched the Master. Surely He'd reprimand her for breaking Jewish law that way, making Him unclean, too.

"It was I," she said as she grasped His feet.

"Daughter," He said. A term of endearment. He loved this woman though she was a pariah to the crowd. Jesus took her hand and lifted her from the dirt of her disease. "Your faith has healed you. Go now in peace." Clean. Restored. Head up. Shoulders back. Walking back through all the stunned and gasping people a new woman, no longer judged by her disease. O daughter of Judah, rejoice in His judgments, Who would halt a more exalted journey to the house of a prominent Jewish leader to love on a daughter of the dust. To not only judge her worthy of healing but also of the pronouncement to her community that she's no longer an outcast, unclean and isolated. The God Who walked their streets gave her back her life.

So yesterday when Anthony Weiner once more allowed his wife to share in his shame, I couldn't help wondering about Jesus's reaction. Surely He doesn't hate Mr. Weiner. But Jesus undoubtedly hates the evil he is involved in. Hates that Huma is covered with the ignominy of her husband's filthy habit. Jesus loves women. From Hagar, who pleaded with God in the desert, to Rahab, Hannah, Abigail, Esther and Ruth, to Mary, His mother, and Mary Magdalene whose demons Jesus cast out, the God of All has loved and protected women. Saved them from shame. Because He hates evil wherever He finds it. As we should. Hate it because it destroys lives, families, hopes, dreams and possibilities. Despise the sins that so easily beset us and keep our eyes on our own "deeply flawed" human predicament. It is sin God hates. Not us. But when we allow sin to define who we are, we have become anathema to Him. And He will judge. Not I. But I pray for us, as women, that we take hold of the dignity our Savior draped us in when He walked Earth to reveal His heart. We are His Beloved and can, therefore, walk away from the shame we've been wearing to don a wedding gown of purest linen and rejoice that our Groom considers His Beloved precious enough to lay down His life for her.

PSALM 97 - How Things Got So Upside Down

The heavens proclaim His righteousness, and all the peoples see His glory. All worshippers of images are put to shame, who make their boast in worthless idols. Worship Him, all you gods!
(Verses 6-7)

They are turned back and utterly put to shame, who trust in carved idols, who say to metal images, "You are our gods." Isaiah 43:17

For many, of whom I have often told you and now tell you even with tears, walk as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their end is destruction, their god is their belly (appetites), and they glory in their shame, with minds set on earthly things. Philippians 3:18-19

There is a new royal son in England today, unnamed but precious, it seems, to the world. U.S. reporters have been camped out for days in London waiting for the announcement of the birth to be made so each could be the first to get the scoop. I saw a picture yesterday of the crowd languishing under multi-colored umbrellas in the stifling heat waiting outside the hospital for the news. And the announcement wasn't that a fetus had been delivered to Prince William. It was a baby. And rejoiced over as each birth of each precious child worldwide should be. But we have come to believe that the shameful deaths of millions of children is a right we have. That a conception wanted is called a baby, while the others are deemed blobs of tissue--the fetus. And we aren't even ashamed of it any more. At the courthouse steps in Austin, Texas, women screamed their disdain for banning abortions after twenty weeks and decried a new law that makes abortion clinics safer. We are turned upside down in our world right now. I was thankful, therefore, to hear how wanted and adored the new prince is.

And so we glory in our shame. And not just in political correctness with our hunger for abortion rights and gay marriage. Things are turned upside down morally in a nation because of what is happening to us as individuals. Our god is our appetites. Food, sex, power, money, drugs, alcohol--we have no self control. We open our mouths and pour in medications that become addictions that bring us destruction. Shame, a most wondrous tool of the enemy, keeps us in addiction, head bowed, no way out. No amount of justifying it really assuages the facts. Idols have only the power we give to them because they are impotent without our need to worship. To cling. And to our shame, even when we understand how bad that man is for us, our great need for heroin or alcohol is destroying our lives, crushing financial debt is robbing us of our livelihood, or food is making us fatter and fatter, sicker and sicker, we go right on back to the behavior that brought us low in the first place. That's different, you might say, than worshipping a silly totem pole or statue of Buddha. Is it? If we are bowing down, we have made our addiction our god. If that man or woman we've left it all for were standing right in front of us, would we actually prostrate ourselves before him or her in worship? Do we put the bottle of alcohol or the syringe of hallucinogen on a pedestal and praise it before we pour its poison into our systems? If we did, we'd more clearly understand our idol worship. Vain and silly, making us look weak, unstable and vulnerable. Shame on us.

When we worship idols, we've made our world too small. It becomes all about us. Self-centered and myopic. Waiting for the next fix of something. Hiding the fact that our idol makes us foolish, we sneak around in a second life. Shrouded in the cloak the enemy loves us to wear. All this when the One we are made to worship displays Himself gloriously at every turn! Everyone can see His majesty. Just look at the heavens! The oceans and mountains! Deserts and valleys! Think how rich and creative are all the wonders of the world in which we live. All that we now know of DNA--a single cell holding all that makes us who we are! Our God is infinitely wise and powerful, clothed in majesty, reigning in splendor yet accessible to us in equally infinite measure. And not to bring us shame. But to deliver us from it. As Jesus did when he met the woman at the well. She couldn't even associate with the other Samaritan women at the well in the mornings because of her degrading life. Five husbands and now with a live-in boyfriend. Jesus didn't speak to her faults but to her heart. Gave her dignity. She was the first person to whom He revealed that He is Messiah. Let her know she didn't have to live the way she was. She could have living water--from Him--to satisfy her unfulfilled longings. She got to be the one to bring good news to the village when she went back. God saw her. Past her addictions and into their cause. Only He can do that.

Addiction must bow to a holy God. It cannot stand before the One who shames it when He passes by. When Light rushes into darkness, it takes over. Flees for its life. What is left is a spotlight on the debris scattered about our lives from the sojourn into a nightmare and our enemy cowering in a corner somewhere. It is up to us to either justify the mess, pretending it's not as bad as it looks, or start cleaning it up by the grace of God. We must decide to no longer bow down saying, "You are my god" to things that have no power. The bottle of alcohol or the new job, the Rolls Royce or the Newport mansion, the bags of potato chips or the new man, all are puny before the God of All. All are finite, evanescent and untrustworthy. Worship Him, you silly gods. Bow down, His precious people, to the only One worthy of your life.

PSALM 97 - Holy Smoke!

The Lord reigns, let the earth rejoice! Let the many coastlands be glad! Clouds and thick darkness are all around Him; righteousness and justice are the foundation of His throne. Fire goes before Him and burns up His adversaries all around. His lightnings light up the world; the earth sees and trembles. The mountains melt like wax before the Lord, before the Lord of all the earth. 
(Verses 1-5)

It was the third new moon after the Israelites were delivered from Egypt. On that day they entered the wilderness of Sinai and set up camp near the mountain. While the business of creating a campground carried on without him, Moses climbed Mount Sinai to be with God. "Tell the people this," declared God from out of the mountain. "You saw what I did to the Egyptians, how I bore you on eagles' wings and brought you to Myself. So be obedient to My voice, keeping My covenant, and you will be My treasured possession forever, for all the earth is mine."

"Everything the Lord said we will do!" The people shouted it when Moses delivered God's message to them. And they meant it!

They were to consecrate themselves, clean up their bodies and their clothes, and wait for the Lord to come in a thick cloud. "I am coming in the cloud so that the people may hear when I speak to you," God told Moses. On the morning of the third day the Lord came as promised. Mount Sinai looked as though it would blow up. Lightning and thunder shook it to its foundations making the thousands and thousands of Israelites tremble in fear. "Don't touch the mountain or come near its edges!" ordered Moses as, out of nowhere, a trumpet blasted long and loud. The nation then came near the bottom of Mount Sinai, scared out of their wits. Awaiting a message from God--one that they could hear with their own ears. Suddenly the mountain was wrapped in smoke that came up from it as from a kiln, thick and dark like incense. It shook making the ground beneath their feet unsteady as they grabbed onto each other for balance. The trumpet blast grew louder and louder, filling the wilderness with its noise, as Moses and Aaron ascended the mountain's craggy heights toward its peak. Moses spoke to God and He answered the prophet in thunder as the mountain burned with the same holy fire Moses had seen in the burning bush. "I am the Lord your God Who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery. You shall have no other gods before Me nor make for yourselves any images of gods. For I the Lord your God am a jealous God."

Later, in Deuteronomy 4, Moses recalls this event to the people and describes it this way: "You came near and stood at the foot of the mountain, while the mountain burned with fire to the heart of heaven, wrapped in darkness, cloud and gloom." They heard only a voice. No form to ogle. No face to recall. Just power manifested in sound and sights too vivid to forget. No image to conform an idol to. Bigger than our hearts can imagine is this God Who descended on Mount Sinai and made it quake and stagger like a drunk. Who could have melted it into a pile of oozing lava had He so desired. This God is too big to replicate. Too complicated to be hammered out into a golden image of His power. For He dwells in incomprehensible light as He rules all--Earth and every other universe, galaxy, planet and star. Our God doesn't want to be held in our hands nor worn around our necks. Our response to Him is reverence and obedience because when He comes to us in power we are reduced to the dust we are. But God came to the mountain to reveal Himself to His people. To let them hear Him--know Him. Because obedience to Him flows from our understanding that the fire of His presence flows to the heart of heaven. God decided to come to a mountain and nearly blow it up so that we could taste what it means to be near to Him. So in the shaking and quaking we'd understand not only God's omnipotence, but also grasp His desire to relate to us.

A God this powerful should indeed be worshipped. Is there another choice? I hear the coastlands every night clapping their hands as the sound of it lulls me to sleep. Earth gets it. So should we. Clap our hands and move out feet in praise to our God Who is able to melt rock and fling stars yet sets His foot on a mountaintop to mingle with our humanity. To say, "Serve and honor Me because I am omnipotent, yet I have chosen you. Carried you on the wings of a mother eagle as she catches her babies when they learn to fly. Delivered you from slavery by defying the very nature I set into motion. Love me back. You are my treasure."

And so God chose to live in their midst, in a tent, like they did. And smoke would come down upon it as Moses spoke with God as friend to friend. Fire led them by night and a cloud by day. God never forsook them. Kept His promises in the face of their broken ones. And all along He knew--even before the mutiny in the Garden--He'd step on Earth as man. This time the mountain wouldn't light up. Crack and spew and tremble. This time the mountain would be drenched in holy blood which would cry out to the heart of heaven to plead for redemption and grace because we broke all our promises to the Lord our God. Our God took the wrath His own holiness made necessary. In Christ, the Godhead paid the debt that His wrath at our sin demanded. Righteousness and justice are the foundations of His throne. They demand payment for our wayward walking. For the filthiness of our hearts, minds and actions. But the Lord our God, Who stands on holy mountains where trumpets blast His righteousness, satisfied His own requirements, dying in our place. God reigns over even His own plans for man. Over our disobedience and hubris. Like God bore up Israel on eagles' wings to deliver them from slavery, Jesus has borne our grief and carried our sorrows and stood between us and the evil one to buy us out of slavery to our own destruction. And the earth quaked and the sky turned black in the middle of the day. And from Mount Golgotha God spoke once again. "It is finished." And the love of God ushered out the wrath of God. The New Covenant bought by His blood that reaches to the heart of heaven.

PSALM 95 - It's Just Not Fair!!!

For forty years I loathed that generation and said, "They are a people who go astray in their heart, and they have not known My ways."  (Verse 10)

All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned--every one--to his own way; and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all.  Isaiah 53

Salvation through faith in Christ is most unfair. The Shepherd dying for His flock even though each of the lambs have strayed from the Shepherd one at a time or in a mass exodus of hubris. Thinking it knows the way better than the One Who leads. Never spending time with Him in order to clearly understand His love for the ewes and rams He must direct and protect in the hills and valleys of their world. The Shepherd has a way He understands. Knows the wiles of the wolves that would eat His sheep alive. Their safety is His number one concern. Keeping them from the enemy of their souls. The Shepherd knows each lamb by name, cuddles them, carries them in His arms (Isaiah 40). But sheep are stubborn and stupid. They wander off thinking they can find greener pasture. Or something catches the light in the meadow, glints in the sun--a shiny object the ram can't resist. When it thinks the Shepherd isn't looking, the sheep meanders toward its own destruction without thought of the consequences. Winds up stuck in a bramble eye to eye with the wolf who tricked it to wander off. If the lamb is lucky, the Shepherd has followed it in its folly. Chased off the enemy and rescued the lamb from the brambles. Time after time the sheep wander and stray. Time after time the Shepherd runs to their rescue. Once in a while, though, a sheep is devoured by the enemy. One too many treks away from safety. Caught too far away from home. No amount of baa-ing his fear and regret can bring the Shepherd close for the sheep has chosen again and again to do its own thing. What is the Shepherd to do?

It is the wolf He must deal with. Once and for all in order to protect the sheep He loves. For too long the enemy has ravaged the sheep. Confused and troubled them with tricks. Left them bloody on the leas and pastures of the Shepherd's land. He must face the wolf head-on. Destroy its power forever over the flock. The battle is fierce. The wolf ravenous and wild as it tears at the flesh of the Shepherd. The sheep watch in horror as the Shepherd crushes their enemy. The wolf lay dead at the feet of a Shepherd past saving. His blood mixes with the grasses of their pasture as He declares with His final breath, "It's finished." Confused and alone, the sheep run away. Hide in the hillsides and in high brush. What will they do without this One to lead them? Why would He die for such a pitiful flock?

But the wolf is dead. No longer able to touch them because the Shepherd conquered it in battle that day. Took their straying upon Himself so they'd understand why He wanted to hold them close. How important it was for them to follow Him. There are other wolves out there waiting. Who will save them now? But look! The Shepherd comes to find them. Each one. Shows them His hands, ripped by the wolf as he clawed their savior in the heat of the conflict. Pets them and pulls them close. As the sheep nuzzle their master they understand for the first time His great love for them. Willing to give His own life so they are free. These sheep never again want to wound the Shepherd. Leave His side. Go astray. All they have to do is close their eyes to recall the fight. The tongue of the wolf, flaccid and pink, as it fell from its mouth in death. Eyes set. Conquered. But not before the Shepherd lay dead, too, wounded beyond recognition in the cruelty of the conflict. All to save the sheep.

If the sheep stray now, they do it because they have no wish to obey the Shepherd Who loves them. Having seen His death. Having joyed in His return. Yet without understanding what it cost, the sheep who wanders away does so in the face of great sacrifice. Killing the Shepherd over again. Baa-ing its disregard for the love it has been shown. Certain it is smarter than the Shepherd, the ram or ewe heads away from the rest to prove life is greener on the other side of the pasture. And the heart of the Shepherd breaks. And though He leaves the flock time and again to call out to the sheep to return, it doesn't hear His voice. And it will have no peaceful pasture--no safe place to lay its head. Brambles await. Wolves crouch and salivate. For the sheep without a Shepherd are out there on their own.

We are His people and the sheep of His pasture.  Psalm 100