Bitter Waters

[The Communist prison camp was]... in the hottest region of the country and the sweltering heat became more, and more, and more unbearable as the day grew. We were thirsty and yet no one had asked if we wanted anything to drink, let alone anything to eat. We were as the children of Israel in the wilderness... Perhaps they began to murmur because the children were constantly asking for water to drink. That triumphant song of victory recorded in Exodus 5:21-24 did not last long. "I will sing unto the Lord a new song, for He has done excellent things... " What words of confidence and joy, yet it is a difficult thing to go on from the place of God's great miracles, into trials and testings.

Moses had to force the people to move on from their contented place of blessing... the words that I had read so many times became very real to me. The children of Israel also were asking for water, just as we were. They could not find water anywhere just as I could not. When they finally found water, God had made it bitter to them because of their failure to accept from God the situation they were in. So much bitterness had begun to seep into my heart also.

It was then that Moses prayed to God and found the solution in a piece of wood. This bitter water and the piece of wood were separated, just as I had separated from the wood of the Cross. It was a sad thing that because of my situation, I had lost sight of the Cross, and was no longer together with it. I was so overwhelmed by the bitter waters of my situation, instead of letting the sweetness of the Cross change the bitterness that my situation had brought into my life.

I know how much my Savior loved me, and how He had suffered on the Cross for my sins. He had paid such a great price for me, a price that pierced my heart and suddenly made me realize that I did not want to take part only of His power and joy of His resurrection. With it, I wanted to be a partaker of His sufferings. Where was that piece of wood now? Where was my love for the Cross? There in that unkempt yard, representing so much bitterness, I realized that I had forgotten the Cross in the midst of my own personal sufferings. I was caught up only with what had happened to me and not what Jesus had gone through on the Cross. Instead of abiding in His passions and feelings, I had remained in my own.

[JF, (c)1989]

What Price?

Hear this, you who trample the needy, to do away with the humble of the land, saying, "When will the new moon be over, So that we may sell grain, And the Sabbath, that we may open the wheat market, To make the bushel smaller and the shekel bigger, And to cheat with dishonest scales, So as to buy the helpless for money And the needy for a pair of sandals, And that we may sell the refuse of the wheat?" (Amos 8:4-6)

These human beings, the poor and the needy, had less value in many people’s eyes than their animals. And we are closer to sharing this opinion than we might want to acknowledge. Look at the only nice guy who hosted Jesus in Capernaum (Mark 2:1-5). What was his reward for receiving Jesus and his people into his home? Those four young eager fellows who loved their friend destroyed his roof! Do you want to serve the Lord, and are you looking for a fair reward? He may be grateful enough to reward you like that!

To have the burden of one father, mother, brother or sister, husband or wife, son or daughter, is demanding enough. To clean their one house, to help look after them, to love and honour them may take a lot of work. But if you give them up for the sake of Christ, you will be rewarded with at least 100 more to serve and care for! Imagine what a demanding work you can expect then. As Paul said: "What is my reward? To make the gospel costless for those to whom I preach." In other words, to pay the price instead of them. (See 1 Corinthians 9:18)

The host in Capernaum had to consider which was more important: the salvation and healing of a single paralyzed person, or his roof. What am I willing to give up, to sacrifice, for the salvation of another? What price am I willing to pay?

[LH, (c)2004]

Against Me

If God is for us, who can be against us? (Romans 8:31) I have this against you, that you have left your first love. (Revelations 2:4)

To be a Christian in the Protestant tradition means to be a protester: but the important question is, protesting against what? We are a protesting people, protesting against those who disagree with us, with those whom we feel threaten us and our particular form of Christian lifestyle. And we are a frightened people, afraid that the world, our mission field, will engulf us and swallow us whole. So we give courage to each other by meeting together, by reciting our doctrines together, by excluding the world as much as possible. If Christ is for us, we remind each other and say to ourselves, who can be against us? This false courage is an aspect of our fear; the more fearful we are, the more courageous we become.

But what can we say when He is against us? Do we protest against Him? Do we make excuses? Do we point out how much worse the world is? I am not interested in the world, He says. But I have this against you. All we can do is protest with Him against ourselves. All we can do is protest with Paul that we are the chief of sinners. And if we are truly united with Him we will protest, we can't help but protest against that which He is protesting.

Are I am so aware of my brother's sin that I cannot see my own sin? Am I so busy protesting against the world and pointing out its sin that I do not see and declare my own sin? That I seek the repentance of others without myself continually finding repentance?

To be a Christian means to protest against myself.

[PV, (c)2005]

Ani-hu

Before I was put in the underground [communist] prison where I now am, I once stood at the window of my prison cell and cried: "Lord, where are you?" I had scarcely finished the last word, when I saw entering the prison yard my wife, with Bianca and another sister who had come to inquire from the governor if I was in that prison. I had called to the Lord. Three sisters had come. Since then, I have made it a habit to identify them and all true children of God with the Lord himself, and I know this is not a fancy.

Whoever has met King Truth, and has known his ardent kiss, does not seek the truth any longer, does not speak the truth, but is its very embodiment. Christ is no longer the object of your thoughts. You are his manifestation. Instead of being like Christ, you are identified with him. He is the light of the world. You are the light of the world. It is the same light.

...Jesus himself identifies with us. ...When Jesus met Saul of Tarsus, he asked him: "Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?" Now the truth is that Saul had never persecuted Jesus. He had only persecuted the disciples. But Jesus knows no difference between himself and his disciples. When he speaks of his disciples, he does not use the third person. He says, "me." He knows that I am he. And every Christian ought to know himself to be identical with Christ, a part of his mystical body.

...Our Bibles translate Isaiah 48:12 with the words: "I am he. I am the first, I also am the last." The Hebrew words are: "Ani-hu ani harishon af ani haaharon," which means, literally translated: "An 'I-he' (a union between me and him) is the first, and an 'I' (which is only I) is the last." ...To be a Christian means to be an "Ani-hu," an "I-he," an intimate union between a human soul and Christ. Jesus said to Philip: "Have I been so long with you and yet thou hast not known me? He that hath seen me, hath seen the Father." In the same way, a Christian can say to anyone who has known him for a long time: "He that has seen me, has seen Christ."

[RW, SISC, (c)1969]