Monthly Archives: June 2021

“. . . As Far as the East is from the West . . .”

“as far as the east is from the west,

       so far does he remove our transgressions from us.” (Psalm 103:12, English Standard Version)

I am in the middle of a war. It is a civil war, in which I am battling my own past. But, like all civil wars, this one tends to spill over the borders and to affect the present and other people. Every day, I put on my fatigues and pick up my weapons. Some days I think I’m winning the war. Other times not so much. There are days when I suspect that shame and regret are winning.

But today, I was wandering through a bit of a scholarly work when I encountered an unexpected ally in my private war. It’s a verse from the Old Testament. It is also a good example of how other ancient Near Eastern literature can enrich our reading of the Bible. Commenting on Psalm 103:12, here is what I read. “In an Egyptian hymn to Amun-Re the deity is praised for his judgment of the guilty. As a result of the god’s discernment the guilty are assigned to the east and the righteous to the west.”[1]

Psalm 103:12 may well be using part of this Egyptian hymn. However, notice the twist: The God of Israel doesn’t separate the guilty from the innocent. Rather, God is praised for separating the guilty from their own guilt. And we’re not talking about some minor infraction that results from ignorance or inattention. No! The Hebrew word that is used, pashaˀ is the word for willful rebellion.

For those of us who, like me, have done great wrong in our past, this is radically good news. To realize that God has judged our wrong-doing and removed it—well, words have not yet been invented to describe the wonder of a such a thing. What it would cost God to remove my wrong-doings, our wrong-doings, would become apparent at the cross of Christ. There are days when I believe that my war—and the war we all fight—was won at the cross. Maybe it’s true whether or not you or I or anyone believes it. Maybe I should eliminate the maybe.


[1] John H. Walton, Victor H. Matthews and Mark W. Chavalas, The IVP Bible Background Commentary: Old Testament (Downers Grove: IVP Academic 2000), 548.

“God Only Helps in the Present”

“For he says,

             ‘In a favorable time I listened to you,

                        and in a day of salvation I have helped you.’

 Behold, now is the favorable time; behold, now is the day of salvation.”

In my journal this morning, I wrote the following:

“I am not happy with myself right now. Eating too much (and the wrong stuff), playing a lot of computer chess, not pulling my weight around the house and yard. In short, I am not being the kind of man I want to be.

Help, LORD! I can’t do this on my own! Apparently, I’m not very good at it, even with your help!”

And I felt that God was responding to me, in a very kind and tender tone of voice, as follows:

“Child, I am with you every moment, and ready to help you with whatever you need. The problem is that you are usually not here with me in the Holy Present. You are either in the past or in the future. Even I, God though I am, cannot help you in the past or the future—only in the here and the now.

So, whether you are getting ready to field or hit the ball at softball, eat a meal, work on your article for the new periodical, talk with your wife, play a game of chess, or put together your bagger for the mower, stay with me in the present moment. It is only there that I can help.”

Thanks, God. I will be present. (Did you mean it when you said that you would help me put together the bagger? I’m lousy at putting things together.”)

“Yep!” replied the Almighty. “I meant it. And yes, you are lousy at that sort of thing.”

Staying in the present, where God is, is not an easy thing to do. However, it beats the alternative by a country mile.

“Eyes in the Front of Our Head”

There is a reason why we have eyes in the front of our heads. We were made to look forward and to move forward.

Yet I struggle with a tendency to keep looking back. I’ve had this tendency since I was young. However, now that I am old, the tendency is on steroids.

My twelve-step affirmation for today is as follows: “Today, by God’s grace, I am looking forward and moving forward toward the man God wants me to be. When I do this, I am the person God wants me to be.” As I usually do, I included this affirmation in my report to my sponsors.

One of my sponsors wrote back with some very thought-provoking questions:

“So, what does the man Daryl wants to be look like? Is this different than God’s wants?

Does God get what God wants?

I think you’re the man God wants you to be.”

The questions are probably more important than the answers. There are some questions that can and must be answered, but the best questions are those that continue to poke and probe and even haunt us.

As a would-be Christ-follower, I think that the answer to what God wants me to look like is found in Romans 8:29. Many Christians are familiar with and love Romans 8:28. Many have even memorized it.

“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28, (English Standard Version)

But not as many of us are as familiar with vs. 29. That is most unfortunate, because verse 29 gives us the purpose that is mentioned in verse 28. “For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers.” (ESV)

Being a brother or sister of Jesus—what a hoot! Way beyond a hoot! It is an amazingly gracious calling. Difficult? Yes! After all, Jesus lived and died for others. But still, it is an amazingly gracious calling.

So, what God wants is for me to bear a striking resemblance to Jesus. Am I there? I am most definitely not! However, I do believe that God is a little further along with me than he used to be. Conformed to the image of God’s Son? No, not yet. I am very much a work in progress. But that is what I want in my better moments. I have more of those better moments these days.

And God loves me right where I am, right now. I believe that for myself. I believe it for you too, dear reader. Life is a journey, not a destination, as the saying goes.

Yes indeed it is!

So, again, here are my sponsor’s questions, along with my right-now responses:

Q: “So, what does the man Daryl wants to be look like?” Jesus!

Q: “Is this different than God’s wants?” No, at least, not right now!

Q: “Does God get what God wants?” Today, I intend and plan for God to get exactly what God wants.

“I think you’re the man God wants you to be.” I dare to think so too.

“God’s Love for One, God’s Love for All”

I am reading a very fine book right now, Old Testament Theology: Reading he Hebrew Bible as Christian Scripture, by R.W.L. Moberly. Moberly is an excellent biblical scholar, theologian, and writer. These qualities do not always go together. In fact, this combination probably occurs less frequently than flipping a coin and having it land on its edge.

Struggling with God’s choice to love Israel, Moberly writes,

Generally speaking, one of the recurrent notes that is sounded by a responsive individual recipient of love is an astonished “Why me?” This is a question that always looks for more than actual reasons and explanations, however much some reasons and explanations may indeed be given. The question expresses sheer marvel at the gratuitous wonder of being loved (gratuitous, because even the most admirable personal qualities are no guarantee of being loved by another). The reality of love surpasses the realm of reason. In this sense love is a mystery, not in the sense of a puzzle to be resolved but in the sense of a reality whose dimensions grow as people engage with it; . . . If this note of astonished wonder at the unpredictable gift of love is lost, then a significant dimension of understanding the nature of divine choosing is thereby also lost.[1]

For someone—even another human being—to choose to love you is a wonderfully baffling experience.

But what does this mean for those who are not loved or chosen? What of the outsiders? And who of us has not been or felt like an outsider at one time or another?

I haven’t finished this chapter in the book, so I don’t know how Moberly intends to resolve the tension of God’s love for all with God’s particular love for Israel. I personally do not believe that there is a way to resolve the tension. Some tensions have to be embraced rather than resolved. However, I will hazard an illustration that might help us as we struggle with the apparent contradiction of a God who loves us all, and yet loves us particularly.

My wife is one of the most loving people I know. She is thoughtful and kind and loyal. It takes a great deal of courage and toughness to love me. It really does. And she demonstrates this love on a daily basis.

On the other hand, despite the fact (but is it really despite?) that she has chosen to love me, she also loves many others. Does her love for me compromise her love for others? I don’t think so. Does her love for others compete with her love for me? I used to think it did. I was wrong.

Perhaps that is an analogy for God’s love for us in our particularity and God’s love for all. Perhaps my wife’s love for me is even more than an analogy. Perhaps it is a reflection of God’s love for the particular and God’s all-embracing love.

Part of the proper response to my wife’s love for me is, of course, to love her in return. But there is more to an appropriate response to that love. Her love calls, and leads, and pushes me to become a more loving person in general.

Being chosen and loved means that I am free to choose to love both her and others.


[1] R. W. L. Moberly, Old Testament Theology: Reading the Hebrew Bible as Christian Scripture, (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2013), 44-45.

“Not Our Business to Write People Out”

“It is not our business to write people out of our story,” said a friend.

I had just said some kind words about my mother-in-law who died recently. I concluded with, “Even when I came clean about all the wrong I had done, my mother-in-law never wrote me out of the story.” And then my friend came up with this gem of a response: “It is not our business to write people out of our story.”

I believe that this is true. Being written out of someone’s story is very painful, but writing someone else out of our own story is pretty unwise, too.

Don’t get me wrong. There are times when an unrepentant person has done or is doing us great harm. At such times, we may indeed to distance ourselves for our own protection. Such self-protection is wise.

However, writing the person who has hurt us out of our story entirely is not entirely wise. In fact, it may not be possible. The person is part of our story. That profoundly uncomfortable fact can’t be changed.

Let me suggest three positive, healthy ways in which we might think about this matter of refusing to write someone off or out.

First, perhaps we might hold out a hope that the offending person is writing a new script for their life, a script that is better. I am not saying that we should actually believe that they are writing a better story by their thoughts, words, and actions. I am just saying that we should hold on to that hope. That hope may very well also hold us.

Second, perhaps we could write a different part for them in our own story. Maybe we could do a sketch which portrays them not as a villain, but as a very flawed (but potentially decent) person.

Third, those of us who are, or who aspire to be, Christ-followers, need to remember his words about not judging others. Writing people out or off is just another way of speaking of judging them.

One final thought: Maybe I need to choose not to write myself out of the story. And, frankly, I really struggle with that.

My wife and I are estranged from all four of our children. Or, at least, they are estranged from us. The fault is squarely mine. But I refuse to write myself out of the story. That doesn’t mean only that I refuse to take my own life. It means that, but it also means that I stay connected with my children, who are disconnected from me. I don’t contact them, at their request. But they cannot stop me from praying for them, or including them in my daily gratitude lists, or remembering the good times with them. And yes, there were good times, whether they remember them or not.

It is not my business to write myself out of the story either. Neither is it yours.

“Too Early to Give Up and No Time to Be Complacent”

I have been playing a lot of 10-minute chess online of late. I am probably playing way too much and could use the time more wisely. However, I am learning a lot about myself and life by playing, so I might as well redeem some of the time I am wasting by sharing some of the life lessons I am learning—mostly by losing, but sometimes by winning.

I recently played a game in which my opponent pulled off a coup and captured my queen early in the game. Moreover, my king was in imminent danger. I nearly resigned. However, I am learning that I tend to give up too early on myself, so I soldiered on. Eventually, I was able to counter his attack on my king, to trap my opponent’s king, and mount my own attack. I won!

On the other hand . . .

I frequently think that I’ve got a game under control. I get complacent. I have plenty of time on my clock, my opponent has very little time, and I have material advantage. The game is in the bag!

And it is—for my opponent. He lays a shrewd trap, I pull a bone-headedly complacent move, and voi la! He wins!

So, here is what I am thinking. It is generally too soon to give up hope, and it is perennially bad timing to become complacent. Confidence is a good thing—when the game is over and you’ve won. However, the last time I checked my pulse, the Game called “Life” was not over.

God, preserve me from premature hopelessness and the sin of complacency.

“Endurance in Testing”

“No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.” (English Standard Version)

It is easy for me to think that my problems, struggles, and temptations are different from those of others. It is flattering (in a rather perverse manner) to think of my temptations as “unique”. If I can’t be special in some good way, by golly I’ll be unique in my vices!

There are two problems with this way of thinking. First, it is not a helpful way of thinking. Second, it isn’t true. Any human problem is likely to be true for all humans—or, at least, for many humans.

Have you ever watched a nature show on TV where lions, wolves, or some other predatory animal are chasing a herd of would-be dinner entrees? Have you noticed that it is the animal that can’t keep up with the herd (or that chooses to go its own way?) that ends up being on the menu? Our struggles, hang-ups, temptations, and addictions tend to isolate us. As long as they can succeed in getting us alone, they can have their way with us.

Leon Morris, in the Tyndale New Testament Commentary series, writes,

Temptation (see on v. 9) is sometimes understood simply as ‘test’ . . . , a meaning it certainly has on occasion. But here it is used in a broad sense which includes both ‘test’ and ‘temptation’. Nothing exceptional in either way had happened to the Corinthians. They had experienced only what is common to man. And God is not simply a spectator of the affairs of life; he is concerned and active. Believers can count on his help. He will always make a way out. This word (ekbasis) may denote a mountain defile. The imagery is that of an army trapped in rugged country, which manages to escape from an impossible situation through a mountain pass. The assurance of this verse is a permanent comfort and strength to believers. Our trust is in the faithfulness of God.

It is quite likely that the Christ-followers in Corinth to whom Paul was writing, were thinking that their temptations were unique to them. Why else would Paul remind them here that their struggles were simply human struggles?

There are really no unique struggles that any of us experience. We are unique, but our temptations are not.

And, of course, we need to remember that God is faithful and will make a way of escape. However, Paul is realistic. He points out that escape doesn’t mean that we can entirely get out of our temptations, only that we can endure them.

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