Dialog

Kansas is a Republican state. This is the home of Dwight Eisenhauer and Bob Dole. Farmers tend to be a conservative lot, and Trump easily carried this state in the last election. People frequently ask me why I don’t preach on political issues — why I don’t denounce the Democrats, Socialists, Communists, and the 4-H. (Just kidding about the 4-H.) D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, the famous British preacher put it much better than I in his commentary on the Sermon on the Mount (1959):

The primary task of the Church is to evangelize and to preach the gospel. Look at it like this. If the Christian Church today spends most of her time in denouncing communism, it seems to me that the main result will be that communists will not be likely to listen to the preaching of the gospel. If the Church is always denouncing one particular section of society, she is shutting the evangelistic door upon that section. If we take the New Testament view of these matters, we must believe that the communist has a soul to be saved in exactly the same way as everybody else. It is my business as a preacher of the gospel, and a representative of the Church to evangelize all kinds and conditions and classes of men and women. The moment the Church begins to intervene in these political, social, and economic matters, therefore, she is hampering and hindering herself in her God-appointed task of evangelism. She can no longer say that she ‘knows no man after the flesh’, and thereby she is sinning. Let the individual play his part as a citizen and belong to any political party that he may choose. That is something for the individual to decide. The Church is not concerned as a Church about these things. Our business is to preach the gospel and to bring this message of salvation to all. And, thank God, communists can be converted and can be saved. The Church is to be concerned about sin in all its manifestations, and sin can be as terrible in a capitalist as in a communist; it can be as terrible in a rich man as in a poor man; it can manifest itself in all classes and in all types and in all groups.

I am named after my grandfather. Papa was very involved in Oklahoma politics and once served as the sergeant at arms for the state senate. The whole time I was growing up, Papa encouraged me to become the President of the United States. Just before he died, he told me I had chosen to pursue something greater than that. “I’m so proud you’re a preacher Johnny.”

The burdens of leadership can be almost unbearable. In the second half of Exodus chapter 15, Moses had to deal with the people’s disappointment after discovering the watering hole was bitter. In chapter 16, the people grew nostalgic for Egypt’s rich foods, but they conveniently forgot the pains of their past slavery. Now, in chapter 17, the Israelites have once more forgotten the Lord’s care, and they doubt the Lord’s presence. They believe they are going to die of thirst in the desert:

The whole Israelite community set out from the Desert of Sin, traveling from place to place as the LORD commanded. They camped at Rephidim, but there was no water for the people to drink. So they quarreled with Moses and said, “Give us water to drink.”

Moses replied, “Why do you quarrel with me? Why do you put the LORD to the test?”

But the people were thirsty for water there, and they grumbled against Moses. They said, “Why did you bring us up out of Egypt to make us and our children and livestock die of thirst?”

Then Moses cried out to the LORD, “What am I to do with these people? They are almost ready to stone me.” (Exodus 17:1 – 4)

It’s not hard to imagine their plight. The unrelenting sun beat down on them. Their children and their animals were desperate for a drink. The problem began when the people forgot what the Lord had done for them. They forgot the waters of Marah, the paradise of Elim, the meat, and the Mana that the Lord provided. Remember: God is best seen in our rearview mirror. Because of his faithfulness in the past, I can march into the future. When we take our eyes off of God, though, we see only obstacles and challenges. In pain, people lash out at their leaders. Moses cared about his people, and because of their pain, Moses was ready to give up in despair. It’s a vicious cycle. How can leadership break that cycle? It’s a question of vision. What were they focused on?

Notice as we conclude this story, God didn’t send rain or rivers to rescue the Israelites. That would have quenched their thirst, but it wouldn’t have answered their question. At the heart of the matter, their problem wasn’t thirst; it was faith. “Is the Lord among us or not?” Listen to the rest of the story:

The LORD answered Moses, “Walk on ahead of the people. Take with you some of the elders of Israel and take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile, and go. I will stand there before you by the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it for the people to drink.” So Moses did this in the sight of the elders of Israel. And he called the place Massah and Meribah because the Israelites quarreled and because they tested the LORD saying, “Is the LORD among us or not?” (Exodus 17:5 – 7).

Today, in your meditation, answer their question for yourself: “Is the Lord among us or not?”

Complain, complain, complain. Does it ever seem like complaining is a natural activity? I wonder if seeing the challenges instead of the opportunities surrounding us is part of being human. Perhaps we outgrow our childhood sense of wonder and sadly replace it with a sense of entitlement.

Let’s rejoin the Israelites as they continue to march across the desert to the Promised Land. In Exodus 16, they leave their lovely camp at Elim and pass through the aptly named Desert of Sin.

In the desert, the whole community grumbled against Moses and Aaron. The Israelites said to them, “If only we had died by the LORD’s hand in Egypt! There we sat around pots of meat and ate all the food we wanted, but you have brought us out into this desert to starve this entire assembly to death.” (Exodus 16:2 – 3).

“Nostalgia” is just another name for selective memory. It’s the game called the “Good Ol’ Days,” and it begins “I remember when.” It doesn’t stop until everyone is unhappy with the way things are. How quickly we forget the hardships of the past! It might seem like in the Good Ol’ Days, everyone had “Leave It to Beaver” lives or “Ozzy and Harriet” families. Selective memory passes over polio, Jim Crow laws, and dentistry without Novocain!

Churches can be the same way. People ask silly nostalgic questions: “Where have all the great preachers gone?” “I remember when we were the fastest-growing church in America!” “In the old days, we never would have had this discussion!”

Nostalgia could have hit the church of the second century hard. I can imagine a conversation after services around 110 a.d. “I remember when preachers could raise the dead!” “This new generation doesn’t know how good they’ve got it. Imagine using books instead of those beautiful scrolls!” “In my day, we met in homes, or even caves, but now we’re wasting money on buildings and baptistries!”

I love history, and I love listening to the stories of the days gone by, but the problem with nostalgia is, it is unbalanced. Things were never as bad or as good as we remember. Christians are called to live balanced lives – lives with both eyes open.

People in pain complain. In Exodus 15, 16, and 17, the Israelites faced three challenges: disappointment, nostalgia, and doubt. Their response was always the same: complain, complain, complain. Can we do any better?
Today let’s look at Exodus chapter 15. The chapter begins well as the Israelites escape the army of Egypt. The song of Moses celebrates. “I will sing to the Lord, for he is highly exalted. The horse and its rider he has hurled into the sea.” Miriam and all the women of Israel took tambourines and danced and sang too.
It was a joyful occasion, but how quickly we forget! Three days later, dragging through the Desert of Shur, they can’t find any water. Their lips are chapped. Their throats are parched. The dust stirred up by thousands of feet must have caked everything. “What kind of leader is this Moses fellow? I thought he knew this desert! I thought he knew where the watering holes were!” We can hear their complaints, but then they discover water!
The Superstition Mountains outside of Phoenix, like deserts everywhere, have hidden watering holes. They are amazing. Unless you are extremely lucky, you would never find them. Legends abound of pioneers dying of thirst just yards away from these pools. Can you imagine the joy when the Israelites came to Marah and found that pool of cool water hidden in the rocks? What promise! Salvation at last! Can you taste it? Spit it out! The water of promise is bitter. It burns your throat and sours your belly. It’s undrinkable! Disappointment and despair descend on the thirsty travelers. Their hope evaporated.
We are disappointed by our unfulfilled expectations. How often has that happened to you? The sales brochure promises the vacation of a lifetime. The picture on the back of the cereal box promises pleasures untold if you’ll only mail in enough box tops. Whatever it was, it wasn’t as much fun as you dreamed it would be. (Sin, too, has an awful aftertaste!)
The same thing can happen to Christians. We rise from the waters of the new birth, only to discover the same world awaits us. The blessed Bride of Christ, the church on earth, is full of blemishes. Preachers, those holy men of God, all too often are just men with holes in them too. Elders don’t keep their word. Christians aren’t perfect. So how do we deal with disappointment?
We can look for happiness elsewhere. “Next year, we’re vacationing in …,” “You aren’t the man I thought you were.” “I’m done with hypocrites!” (My wise grandmother reminded me, “If you’re letting a hypocrite stand between you and God, he’s closer to God than you are.”)
We can pretend it’s not that bad. “At least the spiders will eat the bedbugs.” (True story. We checked into the motel down the road.)
We can quit dreaming, or we can give up.
We can get angry and take out our frustrations on someone else: “So the people grumbled against Moses, saying, “What are we to drink?” (Exodus 15:24)
Or we can turn to the Lord and wait for his salvation. “The Lord showed him a piece of wood. He threw it into the water, and the water became sweet” (Exodus 15:25).
It turned out the watering hole called Marah was just a stop on the way to paradise. “Then they came to Elim, where there were twelve springs and seventy palm trees, and they camped there near the water” (Exodus 15:27).

“Look at all the lonely people” goes the haunting refrain of an old Beatles tune. Have you ever been so lonely you ache? Loneliness is a bitter pill, and we rightly run from it. But there is an alternative to loneliness.

How would you complete the sentence, “A friend is someone who _________________ “? Most answers would be something like “a friend is someone you can count on” or “a friend will never leave you lonely” or “a friend is someone you can talk to.” But what about, “A friend is someone you can be quiet with”?

When you are with some people, you have to keep up the conversation and avoid those awkward periods of booming silence. On the other hand, there are some people you are so comfortable with, so secure with; you can just enjoy their presence.

Richard Foster observes, “Loneliness is inner emptiness. Solitude is inner fulfillment.” He then goes on to describe the examples of Jesus and solitude. Jesus inaugurated his ministry by spending forty days alone (Matthew 4:1-11). Before he chose the Twelve, he spent the night by himself (Luke 6:12). When he learned of the death of his cousin, John the Baptist, he withdrew “to a lonely place apart” (Matthew 14:13). After feeding the multitudes, he sent the apostles away and “went up into the hills by himself” (Matthew 14:23). The list goes on and on and on. Jesus valued solitude, and so should we.

Jerry Rushford remains one of my favorite teachers, especially when he teaches about hymns. One of the most memorable classes was about a young hymn-writer, Edward Perronet (1721 – 1792). His family were French Huguenots and were forced to flee first to Switzerland and then to England where they became involved with the Evangelical Movement along with Whitefield and the Wesley brothers, John and Charles.

Although Edward was very critical of the Anglican Church, he once wrote, “I was born and I am like to die in the tottering communion of the Church of England; but I despise her nonsense.” His senior, John Wesley, approached him time and time again to preach, but Edward resisted. He felt it was improper for a younger man to preach, especially when someone as capable as John Wesley was present, but Wesley was persistent, and eventually Perronet conceded.

“Although I have been forced to preach against my will in the presence of such notable men, I shall preach the finest sermon anyone has ever heard,” he announced. And he did. He stood up and read the Sermon on the Mount and sat down.

Perronet wrote “All Hail the Power of Jesus’ Name” in 1789, but he was so humble, it wasn’t until 126 years after it was printed that researchers finally discovered Edward Perronet was the author!

His hymn is normally sung to one of two tunes. “Miles Lane,” was written by a nineteen-year-old organist in London, William Shrubsole, and “Coronation” was written in 1793 by American Oliver Holden in Charlestown, Massachusetts. Naturally our English brethren prefer the tune “Miles Lane” in their hymnals, while Americans almost universally sing it to “Coronation.” 

James, the brother of Jesus, wrote: “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” (James 4:6).

(Note: John Rippon composed verse 7 which is verse 4 in Songs of Faith and Praise #145 and #161. The lesser-known tune, “Diadem” was written in 1838 by James Ellor. See hymn #145)

For Americans, it’s a time for us to celebrate freedom. A new administration and a new president is about to take office. We are not under the thumb of a dictator or a despot. We are free! One of my favorite Christian authors is John R. W. Stott. He pointed out, “One of the best ways of sharing the gospel with modern men and women is to present it in terms of freedom.”

“Freedom” is a great Christian word (Luke 4:18, 19; John 8:36; Galatians 5:1). It is an extremely appealing topic, but freedom is also much misunderstood. I once read a quote from a Marxist, “When we get freedom, you’ll do what you’re told!”

What does it mean to be free? True freedom has limitations. If two people jump out of an airplane and only one of them has a parachute, which one do you think will enjoy the experience of sky-diving more?

As Christians, we are freed from guilt, freed from sin, and freed from fear. But in addition to being freed from, we are also freed to. Again Stott points out, “True freedom is freedom to be ourselves, as God made us and meant us to be.” That’s an important limitation!

Think about it. God is not free. He cannot be tempted or lie or tolerate evil. His freedom is freedom to be himself! What is true for the Creator is true for us. I think about taking our granddaughters to the beach. Rachel loves chasing the little fish swimming in the shallows along the shore. Now it’s an important truth that fish were created for the water. We learned that they are not very happy on the shore or in your pocket. Fish were created for the water, and that’s where they are happiest.

People were created for love. Robert Southwell wrote, “Not when I breathe, but when I love, I live.” True love is self-giving. True freedom is freedom from my silly little self in order to live for God and others (See Mark 8:35). As the fish are created for the sea, so we were created to love. The Apostle John wrote, “This is the message you heard from the beginning: We should love one another…. This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers…. Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth” (1 John 3:11, 16, 18).