Mission from Exile

""Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the LORD on its behalf; for in its welfare you will have welfare." (Jeremiah 29:1-23, emphasis here on verse 7)

... this is a radical assertion of the Gospel, radically unlike all of the religious conceptions of man. Because it is obviously a passage about mission as well -- the Israelites were "sent" (missio) into exile (and those who remained in Jerusalem are here cursed). They are commanded to strive in life, in prayer, for the welfare of those in the place of exile, a place as evil as Egypt, and the opposite of Jerusalem, the city of God, from which they are outcasts. A place they might have thought impossible for worship or prophecy, for the singing of the Lord's songs, or the playing of harps. But their iniquity and banishment, not their piety and faithfulness, become the very occasion of, the condition for, their mission in the world.

We have realized that to be a Christian is to be, like Jesus, in exile and humiliation, bearing the judgment upon sin. Not simply in times of testing or duress, but for as long as we are here as strangers in this foreign land. This passage goes on to speak of the re-gathering and home-coming, but only "when seventy years have been completed" (v. 10). (...)

What a hope that when God is against me, when He has sent me into exile, He is also preparing a mission, a calling for me. Our believing brothers and sisters in Romania who suffered prison and torture under communism say that on the one hand, this was God's judgment against them, which they accepted as such. But it was also God sending them into the mission field of the prison, "the parish" of those who were clergy. "The Communist torturers will not come to the church -- how else will they hear the Gospel unless we are sent to be the tortured?" they asked.

And why does God send His own people to seek the good of a place of godlessness? For the sake of that city and its inhabitants? Certainly. But also, because "in its welfare you will have welfare." God makes inseparable the welfare of His believing people with the welfare of the pagans, and appeals to the self-interest of His own people: the interests of both are not united in an altruistic and sentimental way, but matter-of-factly and quite literally. Maybe we think it is more holy (or simply, nicer) to love the non-believers in our lives for their sake, out of some generosity for their good. But God says, no, love them for your own good. Let their benefit be your benefit. It is the essence of the second great commandment; it is clear from this passage that loving your neighbor as yourself is a missionary call.

"Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you as captives..." The Israelites are the over-powered and afflicted in this situation, the lowest people on the social rung of the city's population, with no power or status. We see again and again in the Bible that God loves to use the lowest and the weakest -- consider the slaves of Naaman in 2 Kings 5 who convince their master to seek and follow the counsel of the prophet Elijah. They have access to heavenly things that their earthly master does not, but they dare to seek their own welfare in that of their earthly master.

And what if seeking the welfare of the unbelieving city seems to conflict with previous calling from God? Seeking the welfare of the city will undoubtedly prove more difficult than we think, as with Peter, for whom seeking the welfare of the unbelieving Cornelius meant being commanded to eat unclean meats. We don’t know, still we cling to the promise that "in its welfare, you will have welfare."



[GEN, 2010]

Praying in Chains

"There were years and years when brothers from among the most precious stayed in underground prison cells. They were beaten. They were tortured. They prayed and dreamed that this moment would come when the Gospel would triumph and we would be able to gather freely and worship God. Not many survived. God had so arranged that I be among the oldest of my generation. So for me it is a great privilege to be with you today.

Many of you are our children. Because, in prison, in between two sessions of torture, brothers and sisters prayed for the Romanian churches. They prayed for the youth and Romanian children ... for many of you. We prayed when we were in chains. We prayed that you would be faithful and worship God. You came to the faith through your parents, faithful pastors, but maybe even the prayers of those imprisoned contributed so that you today would be children of God. Therefore, do not be offended if I call you my dear, dear children. May God bless all of you."


[RW, speaking in a trailer for Prisoners of the Light]

Food appropriate for us

Moses glorifies the everlasting Lord as He Who sets a table for His people in the wilderness. The bread of the wilderness was the manna. The word manna is actually a question: What is this? When we are sorely tried, this is our first question: What is this? Clearly, the secret that is hidden from us will become bread for us. Moreover, this bread will keep us alive in a biological sense as well. So our task is not to answer the question, or to insist upon an answer, but to accept the test. The one who accepts trials from God's hand, even if they do not seem to come from Him, that man will eat even the putrid insides of an animal with thanksgiving. God feeds us with food appropriate for us (Proverbs 30: 8), but he also decides what is appropriate for us. If it were not so, those who suffer dreadfully for Him would quickly collapse.

A very peculiar transubstantiation of the food can be observed in the ways of God. There is honey in the rock and there is oil in the flinty crag (Deuteronomy 32:13). God doesn't give honey from the hive or oil from the olive. One of God's lesser known names is the God of breasts. This suggests that we should give ourselves to Him like helpless children and even in the hardest situations, we will become beautiful, like the young Jews in captivity who refused to eat any Babylonian food.


[FV, 1995]

Wonderful is coming

"For a child will be born to us, a son will be given to us; And the government will rest on His shoulders; And His name will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Eternal Father, Prince of Peace".
(Isaiah 9:6)

"His Name will be called Wonderful [One], Counselor..." Many translations like the one above render this as just one name, "Wonderful Counselor". But the "Wonderful" is a noun in the Hebrew -- which means not an embellishment to "Counselor", but a separate, parallel, equal, and prior name. Wonderful. It's a word we have overused so that nowadays it has come to mean something like "really, really good", or "fantastic". Applied to all sorts of mundane things: "Dinner was wonderful." But wonder-ful's real, original meaning corresponds to the original Hebrew word, something that causes us to wonder, to marvel, to be astonished and amazed. That is from beyond our natural comprehension, beyond our reason, our paradigms. Like the continuing miracles of Jesus which left the people "amazed" throughout the Gospels. This child who is coming to us will be named Wonderful. Shocking. Mind-blowing. Mind-breaking. Who is coming? Wonderful. Wonderful is coming.

But His name is next Counselor, One who advocates for us and advises us, who guides and directs us. How can one whose very name is Wonderful/Mind-blowing/Astonishing guide us or speak to us or even be "understood", known by us? By us who are trapped in this earth and its thinking, very deeply of this earth?

There is a clue for us here: this series of appellations begins with "a child". He is first a child for us. And finally -- a Father! How could it be more baldly Trinitarian? He gives Himself to us first as a child.

Not just God descending to Earth, which is crazy enough; but literally growing up from the earth, a shoot, a "fruit-bearing branch" from the "stem of Jesse" -- yes, stem and even "roots"! (Isaiah 11:1) Rooted in our ground, in our poisoned soil of our broken world. Instead of the Most High just humbling Himself in coming as low as possible, He be-comes for us, begins for us low and grows High among us, with us, for us. For us who are hopelessly trapped, who cannot grow because we cannot even see or admit or know without Him that we are so low. He is not just far higher than we can think, but lower than we can be. Lower than my sin, than my sinning world.

Let us wonder this Christmas.


[LH, 2007]

Action from Stillness

"Now as they were traveling along, He entered a village; and a woman named Martha welcomed Him into her home.She had a sister called Mary, who was seated at the Lord's feet, listening to His word. But Martha was distracted with all her preparations; and she came up to Him and said, 'Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to do all the serving alone? Then tell her to help me.' But the Lord answered and said to her, 'Martha, Martha, you are worried and bothered about so many things; but only one thing is necessary, for Mary has chosen the better part, which shall not be taken away from her.'" (Luke 10:38-42)

When one of the families in the little village of Bethany received Jesus and his disciples into their home, it became clear that there is a great difference between the "many things" (Luke 10:41) and the "one thing necessary" (v. 42). Martha, one of the women of the house, so completely occupied herself with so many duties (in the original text, diakonia, literally, charitable works or mission) that she couldn't sustain it and finally broke down in despairing complaint to Jesus.

But Mary, the sister of Martha, became still in the midst of performing tasks of hospitality so that she could concentrate on Jesus and sit as a disciple at the Master's feet.

All of us are usually looking up to and emulating constantly busy, dynamically active people. But Jesus sees and evaluates this condition in a different way. He plainly declares "Mary has chosen the better part." But how could choosing to withdraw into inactivity be the "better part", especially at a time when there were so many tasks to be done in their home? This is not about the exaltation of idleness, of fruitless contemplation, but rather about the question of why the busy man cannot stop. Why is concentrated stillness so foreign to him? Why is he always running? There is a need for diligent people in the duty of the "many things", well and good, until it is at the expense of the "one thing necessary". We burn ourselves up and out when Jesus speaking to us is not the most important thing.

Faith comes from hearing the Word of God. And faith cannot live without works. Action flowing out of stillness doesn't spend us, doesn't make us dead tired and constantly complaining. The gift of the Spirit is this radical moderation.


[PV, 2008]

A noise that I call joyful

Mysterious Ruler,

Today it seems quite pointless for me to speak to you.

Humiliation destroys a soul far more easily than torture. This morning the examining officer (...) ordered me to kneel. His warm urine ran down my face. How stupid one can be. The verse which came into my mind at that moment was the one about "the precious oil upon the head, running down the beard" (Psalm 133:2).

And now I am back in my cell. Should I pray? "Is any among you suffering? Let him pray" (James 5:13). But how can I pray to One who has foreordained all things, who has all power in heaven and in earth, and in whose world someone urinates on my head? (...) his urine on my head was too much. God, I have simply nothing to tell you about it, neither a reproach, nor by way of thanks. Nor do I wish to embarrass You by asking You the indiscreet question, "Why?" You would perhaps not know the answer.

So I circle around my cell, making a noise that I call joyful. Tra-la-la-la-tum-tum-te-tum-tra-la. Or am I in fact weeping? The Hebrew word nud means both "to bemoan" and "to skip for joy". You have asked us "to shout joyfully to the Lord" (Psalm 98:4). Well, here you have it. "Pom-pom-tara-pom-tara." When I am beyond understanding anything, I can enjoy the miracle of hearing my own voice.

(...) I have always marveled at the ritual of the Day of Atonement as described in Leviticus 16. The high priest had to cast lots upon two goats: one lot for the Lord and one for the scapegoat (v. 8). The scapegoat was destined for release in the wilderness. If the law had stipulated one hundred lots for the Lord and one for the scapegoat, nobody could have objected. But God is all for fair play. Only one lot for Him, the same as for the scapegoat, not a whit more. His Son was born in a stable, like many poor children. His Son feasted at the banquets of rich tax collectors, as many other men did. His Son died on a cross; so did the robbers. His Son rose from the dead, as millions will also rise. He will keep no privilege for Himself. He is in glory, and "when He is revealed, we shall be like Him" (1 John 3:2) -- we, His former enemies. We shall sit with him on His throne -- we, former murderers, liars, adulterers, slanderers, unbelievers. One lot for God; one lot for the scapegoat. There is an equality of chances with the Lord.

So this officer's chances of going to heaven are equal with mine. I cannot imagine how any conversation between us will be possible there. It will be too difficult for him to apologize; he will not be able to explain or justify his action. I shall not be able to speak any kind words. We shall simply take each other's hands and cry out ecstatically some loud, senseless noise.(...)

What this officer did to me was base. But God chooses the base things (1 Corinthians 1:28). I will think of him as my future companion in the heavenly choir which will make a joyful noise unto the Lord. Tra-la-la-la. I am calmer now. This also has passed.

Gam ze iavo. So many terrible events have passed in my life. Now this has passed, too. With Jesus the incarnation passed, the crucifixion passed. Everything passes. It is as though nothing has happened to me today. My beloved God, let us walk again in companionship with one another. Amen.


[RW, IPWCS, 2003]

Understanding and Obedience

"If you love me, you will keep my commandments." John 14:15

The young Reformed pastor was arguing passionately with his senior colleague over a practical application of theology. On and on they wrangled until, finally, the wife of the older pastor broke in.

"You," she said, addressing their young friend firmly, "you are trying to understand with your head. Instead of with..."

With what? How would we expect the sentence to continue? With the heart? The emotion?

"Instead of with your obedience," she finished. "Understand with your obedience!"

We tend to think that we can't obey what we cannot understand. But Jesus never asks us for our understanding, only for our love and obedience. His "...sheep follow Him because they know His voice..." (John 10:4), not necessarily because they comprehend what He says. The disciples didn't, more often than not, yet gave their lives to Him.


[As told by LH, 2002]