Category Archives: theology

“They that sow in tears shall reap in joy. Hence, present distress must not be viewed as if it would last for ever; it is not the end, by any means, but only a means to the end. Sorrow is our sowing, rejoicing shall be our reaping. If there were no sowing in tears there would be no reaping in joy. If we were never captives we could never lead our captivity captive. Our mouth had never been filled with holy laughter if it had not been first filled with the bitterness of grief. We must sow: we may have to sow in the wet weather of sorrow; but we shall reap, and reap in the bright summer season of joy. Let us keep to the work of this present sowing time, and find strength in the promise which is here so positively given us. Here is one of the Lord’s shalls and wills; it is freely given both to workers, waiters, and weepers, and they may rest assured that it will not fail: ‘in due season they shall reap.'”

“Stir up your power, O Lord,
and with great might come among us;
and, because we are sorely hindered by our sins,
let your bountiful grace and mercy speedily help and deliver us;
through Jesus Christ our Lord,
to whom, with you and the Holy Spirit,
be honor and glory now and forever. Amen.”

From time to time, complacency and unbelief creep in, and we forget our own poverty, our own need for the gospel. We live from day to day trying hard enough, doing well enough, and we lose sight of the cleansing blood of Jesus and our utter dependence on him. Sometimes we wander so far on our own devices that grief and pain are the only things that drive us to craving deliverance, grace, mercy. Whatever our circumstances, may we always return with Advent’s longing to cry out, “Stir up your power, O Lord! With great might come among us!”

This time of the year, about half of the searches that lead people here are dealing with the question did Mary suffer labor pains? Michael posited that question a few years back.

I answered then, and still believe now, that she did. My labors (even Lexi’s at home and unmedicated) remind me so much of what Jesus says in John 16, when he is telling the disciples about the sorrow they will feel at his death being so overshadowed by the joy they will experience when they see him again. “When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a child has been born into the world.”

She labored in pain and then she rejoiced, at her son, who had come to save us all.

“Not all the blood of beasts on Jewish altars slain
Could give the guilty conscience peace or wash away the stain.

But Christ, the heavenly Lamb, takes all our sins away;
A sacrifice of nobler name and richer blood than they.

My faith would lay its hand on that dear head of Thine,
While, like a penitent, I stand, and there confess my sin.

My soul looks back to see the burdens thou didst bear
When hanging on the cursed tree; and know my guilt was there.

Believing, we rejoice to see the curse remove;
We bless the Lamb with cheerful voice and sing his bleeding love.”
–Isaac Watts

This is the first Lenten hymn I am going to work on with the girls. I used to sing this to them as a lullaby. The tune I am familiar with (Leonard Payton’s) is very sweet and soothing, and remembering those sentimental moments makes me smile. We’ll start another, one we actually sing in church, in a few weeks.

In reading Cornelius Plantinga, Jr.’s Not the Way It’s Supposed to Be : A Breviary of Sin I came across this passage that I keep going back, reading and meditating on again. You can read it more in context here, but I’m posting to share, and to make sure I can easily access it in the future.

“A spiritually whole person longs in certain classic ways. She longs for God and the beauty of God, for Christ and Christlikeness, for the dynamite of the Holy Spirit and spiritual maturity. She longs for spiritual hygiene itself—and not just as a consolation prize when she cannot be rich and envied. She longs for other human beings; she wants to love them and to be loved by them. She hungers for social justice. She longs for nature, for its beauties and graces, for the sheer particularity of the way of a squirrel with a nut. As we might expect, her longings dim from season to season. When they do, she longs to long again.

She is a person of character consistency, a person who rings true wherever you tap her. She keeps promises. She weeps with those who weep and, perhaps more impressively, rejoices with those who rejoice. She does all these things in ways that express her own personality and culture but also a general ‘mind of Christ’ that is cross-culturally unmistakable.

Her motives include faith — a quiet confidence in God and in the mercies of God that radiate from the self-giving work of Jesus Christ. She knows God is good; she also feels assured that God is good to her. Her faith secures her against that ceaseless oscillations of pride and despair familiar to every human being who has taken refuge in the cave of her own being and tried there to bury all her insecurities under a mound of achievements. When her faith slips, she retains faith enough to believe that the Spriti of God, whose presence is her renewable resource, will one day secure her faith again.

Since faith fastens on to God’s benevolence, it yields gratitude, which in turn sponsors risk taking in the service of others. Grateful people want to let themselves go; faithful people dare to do it. People tether to God by faith can let themselves go because they know they will get themselves back.”

Bishop William Willimon reviewed Dr. Bart Ehrman’s latest book for the Christian Century. Love it!

A past TCL musing on Dr. Ehrman.

Pensive, doubting, fearful heart,
Hear what Christ the Savior says;
Every word should joy impart,
Change thy mourning into praise.
Yes, He speaks and speaks to thee,
May He help thee to believe;
Then thou presently will see
Thou has little cause to grieve.

Fear thou not, nor be ashamed;
All thy sorrows soon shall end,
I, who heaven and earth have framed,
Am thy Husband and thy Friend;
I the High and Holy One,
Israel’s God, by all adored,
As thy Savior will be known,
Thy Redeemer and thy Lord…

Though afflicted, tempest-tossed,
Comfortless awhile thou art,
Do not think thou canst be lost,
Thou art graven on my heart
All thy waste I will repair,
Thou shalt be rebuilt anew;
And in thee it shall appear,
What a God of love can do.
–John Newton (as heard on The Gadsby Project)