Broken Cisterns

“… for my people have committed two evils: they have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and hewed out cisterns for themselves, broken cisterns that can hold no water.” – Jeremiah 2:13

Water management and distribution was a big deal in the arid ancient near east, and so wells and cisterns were commonplace. Wells were long tunnels dug down to reach groundwater. Cisterns, on the other hand, were shallower pits dug into the ground to catch and store rainwater. They had to be waterproof: otherwise, of course, the rainwater would simply seep out into the ground.

Cisterns were hewn out of rock. Why would anyone do that kind of backbreaking work when there is a fountain of water available? Why would anyone actually leave a fresh source of water for a stagnant one? Yet that is what we do. There is something in us that wants to have it our way, on our own terms, through our own doing. Soren Kierkegaard once said, “If I had in my service a submissive Jinni who, when I asked for a glass of water, would bring me the world’s most expensive wines, deliciously blended in a goblet, I would dismiss him until he learned that the enjoyment consists not in what I enjoy but in getting my own way.”

But the cruel truth is that our cisterns are not waterproof. Our work is in vain; the water ever eludes us. None of our toiling and achieving can ultimately or permanently attain for us that for which we thirst. Jesus, sitting at a well, said in John 4, “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks of the water that I will give him will never be thirsty again. The water that I give him will become in him a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” The first step is to see that our cisterns are broken; they are beyond repair. The second is to return to the fountain of living water. If you know this gift of God, Jesus says in John 4, you would ask, and he would indeed give you living water.

Strength To Comprehend

“… that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.” – Ephesians 3:19

God’s love is so much beyond any love we have ever received. One commentator writes, “In the Greek, these four dimensions are governed by one article and are regarded as a unity. They are a totality, which is meant to evoke the immensity of the love of Christ. What Paul is saying is that all the expanse of creation cannot contain this love. If Christ’s love was measurable its height would exceed the heavens, its depth would penetrate the deepest seas, its breadth would span the universe, its length would be unending.” This love surpasses knowledge; yet Paul prays that we can know it.

What strikes me is that Paul’s main request is that we have strength. Why does it take strength to comprehend God’s love? Maybe because it is easier to settle for smaller loves. Stephen Chbosky writes in The Perks of Being a Wallflower, “We receive the love we think we deserve.” Maybe because in order to be “filled” with this love we must first be emptied of pride or self-sufficiency; we must first be able to name our longing for love. Maybe because the idea of “love” has been so parlayed into something we feel that we must have fortitude to believe it exists independent of our feelings. Nouwen writes, “You must believe in the yes that comes back when you ask, ‘Do you love me?’ You must choose this yes even when you do not experience it… You have to trust the place that is solid, the place where you can say yes to God’s love even when you do not feel it… keep saying, ‘God loves me, and God’s love is enough.’ You have to choose the solid place over and over again.”

This strength does not come from ourselves. The power to comprehend this love is granted us through the Holy Spirit in our inner being (3:16). We receive it like a plant drinking up moisture and minerals from the ground; like a building resting upon a solid foundation. This power to know the unknowable comes to us from the God who is able to do more abundantly than all that we think (3:20). May Paul’s prayer be true for us today.

Polluted Garments

“We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment.” – Isaiah 64:6

I heard somewhere that the words “polluted garment” here actually mean “dirty menstruous cloths”—and if you look it up, that’s true. It’s like the translators couldn’t quite bring themselves to write that out in the English, so they went for something a little less shocking.

Recently I came across a book by Clay Jones in which he suggests that questions like “why does God allow suffering?” and “why do good things happen to bad people?” reveal an inadequate grasp of several aspects of theology, one of them a realization of how bad people really are, of what the fallen, sinful nature really means. It made me realize that I do tend to think of people as basically nice and good. It’s easy to separate ourselves from perpetrators of evil. But one has to come to grips with the fact that many of those involved in evil, or who stood by while allowing evil to happen, were ordinary people. Elie Wiesel observed of Auschwitz administrator Adolf Eichmann: he was “an ordinary man. He slept well, he ate well. He was an exemplary father, a considerate husband… I was shaken by his normal appearance and behavior.” As Langdon Gilkey writes, our niceness is so often “the thin polish of easy morality.” Even when we seem to be doing what is righteous, it’s often motivated by self-interest. We don’t engage in extramarital affairs, for example, primarily because we fear getting caught, while Jesus says that even lustful thoughts are adulterous. Jones writes, “We may think those who restrict their adultery to their minds are good, but they’re not. The world is full of such ‘good people.’ Ultimately, evil is a matter of the heart… Bad things aren’t happening to good people because there are no good people.” As R.C. Sproul quips, “Why do bad things happen to good people? Well, that only happened once, and He volunteered.”

This isn’t some brand of shameful pessimism; it’s simply an accurate view of our sinful nature. This verse is pretty unequivocal: all of us are unclean. It casts out in pretty graphic terms the idea that there is any such thing as a righteousness of our own. This must be grasped before we can comprehend what salvation means. We tend to think of ourselves as better than we ought, and then of salvation as less crucial and glorious than it really is. Martyn Lloyd-Jones writes, “Most of our troubles are due to the fact that we are guilty of a double failure; we fail on the one hand to realize the depth of sin, and on the other hand we fail to realize the greatness and the height and the glory of our salvation.” Or (to continue the torrent of quotes) as C. S. Lewis writes, “Christianity now has to preach the diagnosis—in itself very bad news—before it can win a hearing for the cure.”

Manifold

“... so that through the church the manifold wisdom of God might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places. This was according to the eternal purpose that he has realized in Christ Jesus our Lord.” – Ephesians 3:10-11

Paul has just written one of the most notable Biblical passages on reconciliation—outlining how two groups who called each other pejorative names, who were “alienated” from one another, now are not only on good terms, but are one body, united through Christ who has “broken down in his flesh the dividing wall of hostility.” He then zooms out to how all of this is the very reason for his ministry (3:1). This message of unity is the very mystery that is now revealed through the gospel Paul seeks to preach. But then he zooms out even further: this is the message the church proclaims to those in the heavenly places. 

This message is, specifically, the “manifold wisdom of God.” The word “manifold” is Greek polypoikilos: poly means “many,” and poikilos means “rich colors woven side-by-side.” Altogether, the word means “marked with a great variety of colors, much variegated,” but you can see how it goes beyond that to suggest a woven work of art, a painting with colors intentionally and beautifully worked together. It’s hard to understand this word and not think about the preceding paragraphs on ethnic unity. The church is meant to proclaim through its diversity the many-colored unity and beauty of the very wisdom of God. I like how Dean said a recent sermon that wisdom is the embodiment of knowledge—we as the church have an opportunity to embody, to give form to, the wisdom of God. Not just God’s knowledge and truth, but how that knowledge is lived out in a wisdom that is manifold. And by doing so, we proclaim a message that goes not only to our community and our world, but to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places.

Paul reminds us constantly that this is only possible through Jesus. Jesus is the one who joins us together as one body (2:21). Jesus is the one through whom God’s eternal purpose is realized (3:11). Jesus is the reason we do not lose heart even while we see our brothers and sisters suffer (3:13). May we all pray to be strengthened with power through the Holy Spirit during this time (3:16).

Guide Me Into An Unclenched Moment

by Ted Loder

Gentle me,

Holy One,

into an unclenched moment,

   a deep breath,

      a letting go

         of heavy expectancies,

            of shriveling anxieties,

               of dead certainties,

that, softened by the silence,

   surrounded by the light,

      and open to the mystery,

I may be found by wholeness,

   upheld by the unfathomable,

      entranced by the simple,

         and filled with the joy

            that is you.

God Works, We Walk

“For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.” – Ephesians 2:8-10

Logically, this verse should say, we are “created… for good works… that we should work in them.” Instead, it says that God has prepared our good works in advance that we may walk in them. Why is that? 

We tend to both stress over our work, then claim credit for whatever we do. But Paul’s choice of words argues against both those things. The most obvious reason for the word choice, perhaps, is that his point in this entire section is that God works, not us. Salvation is a gift. It is something we receive, not something we achieve. The good works we walk in are only possible because God both created us to do it and prepared it for us to do. We can claim credit for none of it.

But there’s also an element of fretful striving in our work that this choice of words encourages us to release. Walking is something we’re intentional about—we do have to put one foot in front of the other, and decide where to go—but that we don’t, barring injury, consciously stress about. It is something we live into and how we live everything out. It is the rhythmic, basic cadence of the every day. To walk in our works is to release our anxieties and fears and walk into what God has prepared us to do, step by step. To walk in our works is to see good work in even the smallest, most mundane tasks of our day. To walk in our works is to be persistent, to keep doing them regularly, to not give up. We are God’s workmanship—a work of art, from the Master Craftsman, and he has created us to walk in our good works.

The Glory of God

“My mouth is filled with your praise, and with your glory all the day.” – Psalm 71:8

What is the glory of God? We bandy the phrase about all the time, but what is it, really? Well, perhaps unsurprisingly, it’s hard to define. My favorite explanation at the moment is that God’s glory is not a single attribute that he has, but the sum of all of his attributes put together, and the excellence of each attribute—not just his wisdom, but the perfection and greatness of that wisdom; not just his beauty, but the perfection and greatness of that beauty. 

I recently came across a piece by Jonathan Edwards called “The End For Which God Created The World,” in which he does a great word study on how “glory” is used throughout the Bible. He expounds more on the idea of what God’s glory means in terms of each of his attributes by saying that God’s glory is the way God inwardly possesses them, the way he outwardly displays them, and then also the way our own knowledge and experience of them results in His praise and honor. He writes:

“The emanation or communication of the divine fullness, consisting in the knowledge of God, love to him, and joy in him, has relation indeed both to God and the creature: but it has relation to God as its fountain, as the thing communicated is something of its internal fullness. The water in the stream is something of the fountain; and the beams of the sun are something of the sun. And again, they have relation to God as their object: for the knowledge communicated is the knowledge of God; and the love communicated, is the love of God; and the happiness communicated, is joy in God. In the creature’s knowing, esteeming, loving, rejoicing in, and praising God, the glory of God is both exhibited and acknowledged, his fullness is received and returned. Here is both an emanation and remanation. The refulgence shines upon and into the creature, and is reflected back to the luminary. The beams of glory come from God, are something of God, and are refunded back again to their original. So that the whole is of God, and in God, and to God; and he is the beginning, and the middle, and the end.”

His explanation gets better at the relationship we have with God’s glory. Yes, God’s glory is the sum of all of God’s attributes and the nature and excellence of each—but it is experienced by us. That is by definition part of what it is. In fact, his glory is in every single experience we have, if we look for it, if we receive it. And we cannot receive it without returning it, reflecting it back to God and out to others. This is what it means to live for God’s glory: to see and experience that “the whole is of God, and in God, and to God.” That is how the Psalmist can write, “my mouth is filled… with your glory all the day.” All the day—every single moment, his mouth can speak of the glory of God.

Four Words for Power

“... having the eyes of your hearts enlightened, that you may know... what is the immeasurable greatness of his power toward us to believe, according to the working of his great might that he worked in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion.” - Ephesians 1:18-21

Ephesians has the highest percentage of power words of any New Testament book. In verse 19 alone, Paul uses four different words for power, which is remarkable: as one commentator writes, “in other New Testament texts where any of these four terms are found together, there are never more than two in a given instance; here there are four!”

The phrase “immeasurable greatness of his power” is Greek dynamis and means having the capacity or potential for power. The phrase “according to the working” is Greek energeia and means the active working out of power, power in action. The word “great” is Greek ischus and means endowed or inherent power. The word “might” is Greek kratos and includes inherent power but stresses the dominion of that power, its authoritative strength and ability to overcome resistance.

In his commentary, Hoehner writes, “By way of illustration, a bulldozer has the ability, capacity, and potential of routing out trees (dynamis). By looking at it, one senses its inherent strength (ischus) but when its engine roars and it begins to move, its power of mastery becomes obvious (kratos). However, when it comes to a tree and knocks it over, one sees the activity of its power (energeia).” Calvin illustrates these words by saying that ischus is like the root, kratos like the tree, energeia the fruit, and dynamis the more general term that all the others support.

This power is present in the resurrection of Christ. Jesus has inherent power as one who is fully God; he worked out this power through his resurrection from the dead; he was endowed with power from the Father; he now sits in a place of authority and dominion. These four terms contrast with the four hostile powers listed in verse 21: Jesus has the dynamis, energeia, ischus and kratos that is far above "all rule and authority and power and dominion."

Paul's prayer is not that we have this power but that we can recognize it. He spells it out so extensively because he wants us to see what we already have. May we, through the revelatory work of the Holy Spirit, indeed see and know this power today.

God Remembers

“Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you.” – Isaiah 49:15

Breastfeeding has irrevocably changed how I read this verse. With each baby, I went through a period of painful engorgement that I distinctly recall thinking was worse than giving birth without anesthesia. Even after that eased, I was always physically uncomfortable, or at least unavoidably aware, when it was time to nurse. The body is pretty amazing if you think about it. It was literally not biologically possible for me to forget my nursing child. 

But there was an emotional tie as well. I would feel the milk come in when I heard my baby crying, or actually any baby crying, even if it was in between a feeding cycle. And there was so much more to the experience than simply the meeting of a physical need: there was the closeness and warmth, the little fist clutching my shirt, the dopey milk-high grins afterwards, the satisfying burps (and poops). There was the haven of time away, together, from the rest of life, the two of us in our own little world. I remember wondering if it was possible to hold someone for forty-five minutes every three hours, and not love them.

I remember how it felt too to have to pump at work. With our first baby, I was an office-less resident, hauling about pump, bottles, tubing, ice packs to every clinic and operating room I rotated through. There wasn’t any precedent for residents having babies in my program, and I remember rushing around in between cases and patients, trying to ferret out some kind of private space (with an outlet) to pump. Even at work, I could not leave breastfeeding behind.

It’s difficult to read this verse without those memories rushing back. No—biologically, emotionally, logistically—no, it is not easy to forget one’s nursing child. What other reassurance do I need, that God always sees and remembers me, in my fiercest and most vulnerable needs and laments, whether I feel it or not? Through every exile, through every tragedy and injustice, God will not forget us.

A Seal and Guarantee

“In him you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed in him, were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, who is the guarantee of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it, to the praise of his glory.” – Ephesians 1:13-14

The Holy Spirit is a seal and a guarantee. In classical times, a seal had four functions. It provided security: a sealed letter meant it had not been tampered with. It provided authentication: a seal was like a signature, carrying the full authority of its owner. It certified genuineness: it meant a document was the real thing, not a duplicate. It served as identification: the design of a seal was unique to its owner. The Holy Spirit signifies that we belong to God and are under his authority. He reassures us of our identity and of the genuine reality of our spiritual state. He both teaches us these truths, and displays them to others.

The Holy Spirit is also a guarantee. This word was a Semitic loan word that indicated a down payment that would be forfeited if the purchase was not completed or service not rendered. I think about how it feels to put down a nonrefundable deposit: that’s when I really know whether I want something or not, isn’t it? God has put the Holy Spirit like a nonrefundable deposit into us, a first installment and a sure promise of the inheritance to come. The word for “guarantee” in modern Greek also means “engagement ring”: something beautiful and of high value which proclaims one’s love and future intentions towards someone. 

The down-payment is not the purchase; the diamond is not the marriage. They foreshadow an experience that will be much greater in scope. The Holy Spirit works in us, and in the church as a body, the way God will one day work in the new heavens and earth: to secure it for his own, to stamp it with his authority, to bring about true eternal reality, to identify it in every way with his own radiant glory. The Holy Spirit, writes N. T. Wright, comes and takes “residence in the actual physicality of Christian believers as the advance statement of God saying, ‘I am doing this now because one day that’s what I am going to do to the world. This is how it is going to work.’”

Fruitfulness vs. Success

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.” – Galatians 5:22

What is the difference between success and fruitfulness? They are not the same thing, at least in the way our world defines success. You get to success by striving, trying, making. You get to fruit by receiving, waiting, and growing. Success by definition usually involves visible and immediate results. Fruit is often hidden from you as it is happening and may not be fully recognized in your lifetime. Success deals in quantifiable currency like money, prestige, and influence. Fruitfulness deals in unmeasurable qualities. With success, the ends often justifies the means, whereas with fruit, the end exists as an indication of the means. Success leads to more and more success, in an ongoing cycle. Fruit exist to deliver the seed and die so that new fruit can grow. 

The Bible doesn’t talk much about success. But it speaks a great deal of fruitfulness: every healthy tree bears good fruit (Matthew 7); Jesus is the vine we abide in to bear fruit (John 15); the wisdom from above is full of good fruits (James 3); blessed is the man who yields his fruit in season (Psalm 1); walk in the fruit of the light (Ephesians 5); receive fruit that leads to sanctification (Romans 6). The story began with fruit taken when it should not have been (Genesis 3) and ends with the twelve kinds of fruit on the tree of life (Revelation 22).

It takes some learning, I think, to value fruitfulness over success in your life. To learn to point your life in the direction of fruitfulness rather than success, and to have the eyes to see the joy and reward that it brings. 

Nouwen puts it this way: “There is a great difference between successfulness and fruitfulness. Success comes from strength, control, and respectability. A successful person has the energy to create something, to keep control over its development, and to make it available in large quantities. Success brings many rewards and often fame. Fruits, however, come from weakness and vulnerability. And fruits are unique. A child is the fruit conceived in vulnerability, community is the fruit born through shared brokenness, and intimacy is the fruit that grows through touching one another’s wounds. Let’s remind one another that what brings us true joy is not successfulness but fruitfulness.”