Tag: open hearts

Search Me, O God!

Focal Passage: Psalm 139

About a year ago, my insurance provider told me that my health plan dropped the internist and cardiologist l went to for 20-plus years. That’s insurance-speak for, “They wouldn’t agree to what they can charge and what we will pay.” That’s the health-care business in today’s America. I began to look for new doctors within the provider’s plan.

I found a new internist quickly enough. I like her, but to be honest, I didn’t know “teenagers” were allowed to practice medicine. Goodness! She looks young! She certainly seem skilled and current on the most modern medical procedures and practices, maybe even more so than my “old” doctors. May all that new knowledge prove beneficial to my health. That’s the hope.

Aside from the endless paperwork, finding a new doctor came with the inevitable need for her to personally verify my health status. Despite having my old records transferred, my new physician insisted on conducting her own series of tests, scanning, probing, and imaging almost every part of me

When I asked if the new tests were necessary, she said she could only tell so much by looking at past records. She wanted to search what is hidden to reveal the good and the bad, the beneficial and harmful, so they could know me better, inside and out. Okay. Fine.

My angst associated with all this testing, other than the cost of meeting my deductible, was that she might actually uncover something that I’d rather not think about or deal with. This new, young internist, a female version of Doogie Howser, M.D. (for those old enough to remember ‘90s television), sensed my discomfort.

She reached over, patted my hand, like she might her own doddering grandpa, and told me not to worry. If they found anything, she’d find a way to treat it and put me on a path to healing and a healthy future. Her compassion felt sincere. Plus, you’ve got to respect the unbridled confidence.

The good news for me is that none of those tests, scans and probes uncovered anything worse than the need to lose 30 pounds. Mission accomplished.

I had not given that much thought over the past few months until I read Psalm 139 this week. David wrote of his own experience with the Great Physician. I so love this Psalm in its entirety because it tells you and me that we are deeply loved and fully known by God! The Almighty! The Creator of the Universe!

Stunning! Absolutely amazing!

David, the presumed writer of this Psalm, marvels at how God knows us perfectly. Every action. Every undertaking. Even the manner in which we pursue each step of life before we take that first stride. He knows our thoughts before they are fully crystalized in our own minds. God is always present with us. There is no place we can hide from him, a fact that is surprisingly more comforting than threatening. David feels God’s presence with him through every aspect of life.

God knows these things about David because he has already run the scans. He’s already examined the shepherd king. You see, to David, God’s knowledge stems from knowing him before the creation of the world, while he was yet a dream in the hearts of his parents. David recognizes that he was “fearfully and wonderfully made,” not just physically, but in the very fabric of who he is…his emotions, his personality, his interests, his relationships. Psalm 139 is a celebration of the divine care provided by the Great Physician.

What David understands for himself, we must understand for ourselves. You and I are known by the same God who knew David and we’re known just as well.

Let me encourage you. Stop reading this right now and read Psalm 139 from that perspective. Then, you can come back and finish this.

I read Psalm 139 from beginning to end this week…a couple of times. It was the beginning and the end that kept calling me. Look at the beginning.

O Lord, you have searched me and known me. (Psalm 139:1)

The Hebrew word haqar translated as “searched” means more than a cursory TSA scan or pat down. Haqar suggests to search out, investigate, explore or probe. It means taking a deep dive into something to learn all one can learn about the subject. To go beneath the surface to uncover the hidden things.

So Psalm 139:1, tells me that what was true for David is true for us. You and me. Before the world began, God thoroughly and intimately investigated or probed everything about us. The scan probed not only the person we let everyone else see, but also the person we hide from even our closest friends. The person we try, at times, to hide from God. God explored every strand of our spiritual DNA. He did all of this while still deciding where to hang the stars.

There is more to this opening verse. Yada, the Hebrew word for “known,” expresses intimacy, perception and understanding. Because he searched so deeply, he knows what makes us tick. He understands how we will respond to any situation. Hear it in David’s prayer. He acknowledges God knows when he sits or stands, knows what he’s thinking even before those thoughts gel in his own mind. God is “familiar with all my ways” and “even before a word is formed on my tongue, you know it completely.”

For someone like me who spent a career measuring his words and someone whose innate shyness and hidden insecurities often kept people at arms-length, that can be a scary proposition. God knew my thoughts before I had them. My words before I spoke them. God knew me intimately before I was born.

While I do find it a little convicting, I find it far more comforting. There is someone out there who knows me both as the person I am and the person I was created to be.

God sees every sin. Every tumor of disobedience showed up on his scans. Every hidden sin, bad attitude or break from his righteousness that I try to hide showed up on my x-rays. That’s convicting. Because of his intimate knowledge of what makes Kirk “Kirk,” he also knows who I can be if I only do what the doctor ordered. That’s so comforting.

Just as I am fully known by God, I am fully loved by God. For everyone struggling to live up to what we perceive as God’s expectations, that is music to our ears.

As David reflects on all the ways he is known and still loved, he ends this beautiful poem with the desire for more tests to be run.

Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me and lead me in the way everlasting. (Psalm 139:23-24)

Note the intentional similarities between verses 1 and 23. The former usage, stated in the past tense, shows the psalmist’s realization that God has already studied in depth who he is and who he can be. That God knows him inside and out because he scanned his innermost being.

The grammatical shift in verse 23 moves from past tense to an imperative. The psalmist expressed an urgent plea for the God to keep looking into his heart. Keep testing and probing his every thought and deed. David knew that to become the man God wanted and needed him to be, he must allow God to continually assess his motivations, measuring how he thinks, believes and acts. David, like any good patient who wants to stay healthy, asks God in no uncertain terms, “Keep running your tests. Keep searching my heart.”

Why?

David’s prayer essentially says, “God, during your search, if you find me doing something I should not be doing, being something I shouldn’t be, lead me toward your righteousness. The plea is no longer only a theological observation of an omniscient and loving God as it was in verse 1. It is a personal prayer of surrender and openness to the God who knows and loves him.

Shouldn’t that be my prayer every day? The prayer of every believer every day?

Our desire cannot be that God should know us in the abstract. David wanted to tap into that knowledge to help him become a better man. That ought to be our mindset. It ought to be our prayer that God would search our hearts and identify for us the issues within, so we can ask our Great Physician to remove the hurtful parts of us and to put us on the path that Jesus walked. To be more like him. The eternal path.

God’s refining and healing work to not just open the doors to eternal life, but to enable us to walk each day on the path that aligns with God’s eternal purpose and will. A life reflective of God’s character and truth. Daily living in obedience, faith and integrity shaped and measured by God’s eternal purpose.

The entire Psalm blesses and humbles me. That God has known me from the beginning of time and still loved me enough to offer his son to bear the burden of sin that was mine to bear, reveals a love of unfathomable depth. That he knows me as well as he does and still engages with me, is mercy unimaginable. What a blessing!

Be reminded that you have purpose and value in God’s eyes. This Psalm is a humble invitation to God to look deeply into our hearts, discover every malignant and sinful tumor within us and treat it. To put us on a path of righteous healing and healthy spiritual growth.

Be comfortable in God’s presence. Live transparently before the God who knows us better than anyone…even better than we know ourselves.

There is something so very comforting when the Great Physician runs his tests. Let him pat your hand like you are his doddering old grandpa. His compassion is sincere.

Let him tell you not to worry…that if he finds anything, he’ll find a way to treat it and put you on the path to healing and a healthy future.

I promise. You will find your strength in his unbridled confidence.

Thinking Points

Why does God “searching” and “knowing” you so deeply make you feel comforted, or anxious or both?

Can you think of a time when you felt being “seen” or “known” by God? How did that experience affect your relationship with him?

 

David prays for God to continue searching him and revealing any hidden issue. What areas of your life are you willing (or hesitant) for God to probe right now?

 

In what ways does knowing that God truly understands and knows who you’ve been, who you are and who you can be help you face your own weaknesses, sins or fears?

 

How does the metaphor of God as the Great Physician shape your understanding of spiritual growth and healing?

 

Do Not Harden Your Heart

Background Passages: Mark 6:30-52 and Ephesians 1:15-19a

You’ll remember the story.

The disciples just returned to Bethsaida on the shore of the Sea of Galilee after a quick mission trip of their own where they taught and preached the gospel. As they began sharing how God had been at work in their efforts, the bustle of the crowd grew distracting.

Jesus suggested a quick boat ride to the far shore where they could spend a quieter time in reflection, rest and praise.

Their leaving the town did not go unnoticed, however. As their boats rowed across the water, the crowd followed, walking along the shoreline trying to catch up to the teacher and healer. By the time Jesus and his disciples reached the beach, a large crowd had already gathered, hoping to hear the words of the master teacher.

Jesus felt compassion toward them, according to scripture, and began to teach them “many things” about God and what it means to live as his people. As the late afternoon came, one of the disciples interrupted Jesus and suggested he call it a day.

I’m paraphrasing, but they said, “We’re in a remote place and it’s late. These folks are going to be hungry. We need to send them on their way so they can find something to eat.”

Jesus suggested that rather than send them away, the disciples should feed them. The idea struck them as impossible. The crowd was too large and their funds too small. Jesus asked them what they had which they could share. Andrew, bless his heart, found a young boy with a pouch holding five small loaves of bread and two small fish that his mother had prepared for his lunch that morning. “That’s it, Jesus.” He probably said. “That’s all we could find.”

Sometime later, the disciples stared for a long moment at the 12 baskets of loaves and fishes gathered after Jesus took the boy’s meager meal, blessed it and began giving food to the disciples to distribute to the crowd of 5,000 men and their families.

Can you imagine how stunning it must have been to see the unfolding of this miracle?

After taking care of the hungry, Jesus insisted that the disciples get in the boat to return to Bethsaida. They pushed off from shore, yammering in excitement about what they had just witnessed. After dismissing the crowd, telling them to return home, Jesus found a quiet place on the mountainside to rest and pray, giving thanks to God for the blessings that unfolded that day.

The winds picked up during the early morning hours and the moon glistened off the water below. In the distance, Jesus could see the disciples struggling to make headway against the wind and waves. Scripture tells us they were “straining at the oars.”

Mark picks up the story from there.

Shortly before dawn he (Jesus) went out to them, walking on the lake. He was about to pass by them, but when they saw him walking on the lake, they thought he was a ghost. They cried out, because they all saw him and were terrified.

Immediately he spoke to them and said, “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.” Then, he climbed into the boat with them, and the wind died down. They were completely amazed, for they had not understood about the loaves; their hearts were hardened.

I went a long way through scripture to get to that last line that I’ve overlooked every time I’ve read this story. “Their hearts were hardened.”

That’s a phrase I most often associate with Pharoah. Moses, on God’s behalf, appealed to Pharoah time and time again to let the people of Israel return to their homeland. Each time the Egyptian king refused, God sent a plague of blood or frogs (that would have done it for me), or gnats, or flies to prove his power and persuade the reluctant ruler.

Each time, however, scripture in Exodus tells us that Pharoah “hardened his heart.” Then, when God had given him every chance in the world to respond positively to him, God took his choice away. God, then “hardened the heart of Pharoah,” sealing his fate.

When we see that term in scripture, it usually means a stubborn refusal to obey God’s teaching or to acknowledge him as Lord. In the Old Testament, it suggests such self-centeredness that one simply turns his back repeatedly on God. Refusing to listen. Refusing to obey.

In the New Testament and even today, to harden one’s heart is to stubbornly and consistently reject Jesus as Savior and Lord, despite every effort the Holy Spirit makes to open one’s heart to the possibility of salvation through Christ. That’s true, the story I just shared suggests there is more to it than that.

In our passage in Mark, we see the disciples sitting in a boat in the middle of the Sea of Galilee with hardened hearts after Jesus demonstrated his power and authority over all things, not once, but twice in the space of 12 hours. His disciples. His followers. People who believe in him.

Once Jesus climbed into the boat, Mark tells us the disciples were “completely amazed.” Whatever Greek word is used in this instance, is evidently not easily translated into English. Different versions of the Bible capture the phrase as “completely overwhelmed,” “completely astounded,” “so baffled they were beside themselves,’ “completely confused,” or “utterly astounded.”

The reason for their profound astonishment was not that Jesus walked on water and calmed the sea. Look what Mark said, “…they had not understood about the loaves.”

Talk about a left turn. I didn’t see that coming. What did they not understand about the loaves?

The disciples were believers. They trusted Jesus as Lord, but they still had much to learn about who he was and what it means to live for him. Such a description sounds eerily familiar to my life…and I suspect to yours.

Though they had come a long way in their understanding, they often missed the point of what Jesus did and why he did it. Jesus did an incredible miracle by creating food for as many as 15,000-20,000 men, women and children from a measly sack lunch. John tells us that Jesus even took the time shortly after this incident to explain that the feeding of the 5,000 was an object lesson, pointing to him as the “bread of life.”

The disciples, however, got in the boat that night, marveling at the miracle, but not truly seeing the one who worked the miracle for who he really is. They missed the revelation of his deity…as God in flesh. It could have been such a turning point in their lives, yet they missed it.

That’s why they were then amazed when he did other God-like things such as walking on the water or calming the sea. Their hearts stubbornly refused to see what was standing right before their eyes, as the water lapped at his ankles. God, through Jesus, is capable of doing anything regardless of the lack of resources or the difficulty of the circumstance.

Their hearts were hardened.

And, there lies the lesson I needed to hear. The language about hardened hearts is usually reserved for God’s enemies, people to whom God is a stranger. Sometimes, those of us who know and trust Jesus as Lord, still have a hard time believing that God is God and that God is still at work.

Stubbornly refusing to believe what we see that reveals his “Godness,” his goodness and his presence in our lives. Hardening our hearts even when we see him doing God things.

Here’s where the story gets so real to me. The disciples didn’t miss the miracle of the loaves. They were in the big middle of it.

They saw Jesus pray. They saw him take the food he had available and turn it into a feast. They handed out basket after basket and each time they returned to Jesus he handed them another basket until everyone was fed.

They saw the grateful faces of the hungry and heard their joy and laughter. They gathered up the leftovers, each loading a full meal to take with them on their journey.

I can be in the middle of God’s work and still miss seeing God in it simply because my heart is not paying attention. I marvel at the miracle and miss the miracle worker.

Paul wrote a letter to the Ephesian church that sounds like a perfect way to focus on keeping our hearts from being hardened to the exceptional grace and work of God in Christ.

“For this reason, ever since I heard about your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for all God’s people, I have not stopped giving thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers. I keep asking that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the glorious Father, may give you the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that you may know him better. I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened (in other words, not hardened) in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe. (Ephesians 1:15-19a)

It was Paul’s prayer for his friends in Ephesus and 2,000 years later, I’m making it my prayer for my life and for yours.

Enter His Gates

Background Passages: Mark 11:15-17; Psalm 100:4

If we aren’t careful, reading scripture can become too common place. We hear or read a story enough times and Jesus becomes a two-dimensional character we place on the felt board of our lives as the story unfolds.

When we’re able to make Christ real, the story fleshes itself out in colorful, three dimensions that gives us a new way of looking at God’s truth and inspires us to live life more abundantly.

Three verses in Mark. Four quick sentences. These 78 words tell the story of Jesus physically clearing the temple in a moment of righteous anger. It is an intense passage. I don’t know that it happened exactly like I envision it, but you don’t know it didn’t. Read with the intent of learning what it means to make his house a house of prayer and inclusion.

She shuffled inside the temple through its eastern gate,
caught in a stream of
hurrying humanity.
Pressing.
Pushing.
Prodding
An exhausting effort to
pass through the portal.

The massive crowd created an instant bottleneck.
at the narrow opening
Hundreds tried to enter
like sheep herded into a pen.

The petite, elderly woman.
Jostled.
Jolted.
Jammed through the gateway.
Once inside,
some hurried soul shoved her to the side.
Knocked her off balance,
scraping her wrist of the rough, stone wall.

She scanned the courtyard of the women,
rubbing the abrasion on her hand.
Blaring noise.
Braying animals.
Barked insults.
Smells and sounds stunned her senses.
Every face that passed reflected a patience worn thin
by long lines.
Angry haggling.
Inhospitable hearts.

Slowly she meandered through the booths,
handing over her temple tax to a scowling priest.
Paying her pennies
for a sacrificial dove.
Exorbitant fees left two coins in her bag.

A Jewish convert from Syria.
A trip of a lifetime.
A demanding and dangerous
journey to Jerusalem.
In her heart,
worth every toilsome step to pray
to the living God.
In His home.
His temple.

Pictured this moment in her heart for years, but
she never expected such…
unholiness
in this most holy place.

Passed through the masses
deeper into the Court of the Gentiles.
Seeking a quieter place to pray.
Hawkish vendors pawed at her arms.
Plying their wares.
When she did not buy,
they pushed her away.
Cursed her family.
Cruel words.
Contemptuous sneers.

She moved again,
longing to feel God’s presence in
his temple.

Once…
Someone arguing at an elder of the temple
broke her reverent conversation.

Twice…
Someone yelled at her
as she settled to her knees.

Three times…
Someone shoved her against the wall
as they jockeyed for position.

Tears flowed down her wrinkled face.
Tired.
Traumatized.

Disillusioned.
Disheartened.

*****

A few minutes before,
Jesus and his disciples entered the temple court
through the same eastern gate.
A long journey from Capernaum
in obedience to the call of Passover.
The last Passover
before the passion
of the cross.

Jesus steeled himself against the revulsion he felt
every time he entered the unruly atmosphere.
Particularly rowdy and quarrelsome this year.

Muttered to his disciples
“How can anyone worship like this?”

Worked his way through the crowd
Brushing aside the moneychangers and sellers.
Hearing the relentless haggling over
price and
product.
Anger boiled with each passing moment.

Jesus’ head snapped to a commotion on his left.
An elder in the Temple.
Shouted and shamed
a man who refused to pay the asking price for a
blemished lamb.
A lamb unsuitable for sacrifice.
Unworthy of God’s blessing.

Too late Jesus stepped to intervene.
The elder drove the man back
with fisted rebuke,
pushing him into and over an elderly woman
kneeling at the wall,
offering her prayers amid the
chaos and confusion.

The master could tolerate no more.
Grabbed two cords from a vendor’s stand.
Wrapped them around his wrist.
Held tightly in his calloused hand.
A crack of the improvised whip.
A shout that bounced off the temple walls,
Jesus cried out,

“Enough!”

People spun around.
Stared.
Shocked.

The old Syrian woman backed against the wall.
Avoided the man in the dusty robe as he charged by.
She watched in awe as he…
Moved quickly to a moneychanger’s table,
tossing it aside as if it were made of papyrus.
Scattered a bag full of coins
across the dusty ground.
Pushed over a nearby fence holding a small herd of sheep.
Drove them toward the gate and
outside the temple

People scattered.
Ran from the man with furious eyes.

Above the din,
she heard again…

“Enough!”

Picking up an armful of cages holding the doves,
the man shoved them forcefully
into the arms of a temple guard.

“Take them and go!
Now!”

The elderly woman startled in fright.
A burly merchant jumped in front of the man.
Beefy hands stretched out to stop him.
Eyes intent on malice.

The man with the whip froze.
Held the index finger of his right hand
inches from the merchant’s face.
Dark eyes glared at the storekeeper.
An explicit,
unspoken
message.

“Don’t even think about it!”

The merchant cowered.
Grabbed his possessions.
Fled toward the gate without looking back.

The woman stood with her mouth agape.
Fascinated by the
presence and power
on display.

As he encountered each Gentile worshipper,
he looked intently into their eyes.
Urged them,

“Please wait.”

Then, in a whirlwind of God’s wrath,
He turned to another merchant,
driving them from the temple.

A swirl of dust.
The man stretched out his arms.
Grabbed the edge of the heavy wooden gates.
Watched the mass of fleeing humanity.

“My Father’s house is for all nations a house of prayer.
You have turned it into a den of thieves!”

“Enough!”

Slammed shut the doors.
Sealed the ensuing silence
into the courtyard of God’s temple.

The elderly woman and dozens of desiring worshippers
Stood still.
Shaken.
Silent.

*****

Jesus stood still at the entrance
breathing heavily.
Head bowed.
Tears of sadness stained dusty cheeks.
Rubbed his eyes and face
as he calmed his emotions.

Troubled worshippers…
Clung tightly to one another.
Clustered in tiny groups,
gathered across the courtyard.

Shocked priests…
Huddled in the far corner.
Trembling in a mixture of
terror and temper.

Stunned disciples…
Stood slack-jawed amid the overturned tables.
Astonished at the demonstration of physical power
never seen from their Lord.

Jesus looked at his closest friends.
Exhaled deeply.
Puffed out his reddened cheeks.
Shook his head slightly and…
with visible relief, winked.
“I’m okay.”

Jesus scanned the silent assembly.
Looked intently for the elderly woman caught in the middle.
He found her.
Crouched in a corner.
Leaning against the wall.
Knees pulled tightly to her chest.

He sat down beside her.
Smiled a self-conscious grin.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,
but I know you came to worship our God.”

They sat for a moment in silence. Jesus breathed deeply.

He pushed himself upward,
pressing his back against the stone wall.
He took her hands.
Led her to the center of the courtyard,
calling for the others to join him.
In the stillness of that moment,
Jesus led them in quiet prayer.

He motioned to the frightened priests.
Signaled them to quietly accept the offered sacrifices.
One by one.
The worshippers relinquished their tribute.
Moved to a quiet place.
Offering private praise
to the Lord Almighty.

Jesus watched the prayerful pass.
Spoke quiet words of encouragement.

The old, Syrian woman
moved slowly in the line of worshippers.
Waited for her moment to offer her dove to the priest.
As the line moved slowly forward, she
stopped in front of the man who cleared the temple.
With a look of gratitude
she raised a shaking hand, translucent with age,
placed it delicately on his cheek.
Patted it twice.
Inner joy bursting forth in a near toothless smile,
erasing 20 years from her elderly features.

Laughing quietly,
Jesus offered his arm.
They shuffled to a quiet corner.
Knelt together in the dust.
Offered more words of praise and worship to the Father.

What made this Passover different? The same chaotic scene played out every year upon Jesus’ arrival for Passover. The crowds. The clamor. The irreverence.

Every time he came to the temple, Jesus surely winced. Overwhelmed by the cacophony within the courtyard. Sickened by the difficulty of worshipping amid the clamor.

Yet, he never reacted outwardly to his inner revulsion…never yielded to the rising bile of anger in his throat.

The disturbance this time triggered a different response. This time he would enter Jerusalem’s temple for the last time…on his way to the cross. Jesus chose this time to make a bold statement about worship so seriously misunderstood and misrepresented by the myopic temple authorities.

In a graphic way Jesus reminded them that God’s house is a place of reverence.

In a graphic way Jesus confirmed that personal prayer lies at the heart of worship.

In a graphic way Jesus warned against attitudes and behaviors that impede the worship of another.

In a graphic way Jesus insisted that God’s house would be an inviting place of prayer…for all nations. For all people.

Imagine a church today with no distractions. No dissension. No disdain for the different.

A church with no elitism. No exclusivity.

A church with no arrogance. No attitude that shuns the seeker. No action that serves as a stumbling block to real worship.

Imagine a church with its doors and hearts wide open. Ready for worship.

A church for whom God’s house echoes with prayer and praise…for all people.

Just imagine.

Then…

Make it so.

“Enter his gates with Thanksgiving; His courts with praise, Give thanks to Him and Praise His name.” (Psalm 100:4)

Author’s Note: The article above is a chapter pulled from one of my books, The Chase: Our Passionate Pursuit of Life Worth Living. If you’re interested in purchasing a copy of the book, leave a message on the comment section below.