Wind in the Belly, a devotional thought

One of the things that makes Hosea stand out among the prophets is the poignancy and vividness of his imagery. Take, for instance this strange but poignant image from Hosea 12: "Ephraim feeds on the wind; he pursues the east wind all day and multiplies lies and violence" (12:1).

In the context here, "feeding on the wind" is Hosea's way of describing Israel's secular and ultimately futile foreign policy. They've cut a treaty with the ruthless Empire of Assyria (12:1b) and they've brokered trade deals with Egypt (12:1c). These efforts to establish peace and security for themselves are empty at best and idolatrous at worst (Egypt, after all, is the tyrannous nation God delivered them out of; and the Emperor of Assyria is a despotic megalomaniac, strutting around like he's the Lord of Heaven and Earth); trusting in deals with the likes of these guys to prosper and protect them really is like chowing down on a plate of "wind" and expecting that to fill you.

But it's more than great poetry (though it is that), it's also rich food for thought: in what ways I might be "feasting on the wind" in my life? I mean, sure, I haven't made any treaties with any ruthless, idolatrous super powers to protect and prosper me, lately, but at the same time, when you think about "the powers" in the Ephesians 6:12 sense of the term-- that is, describing the spiritual dynamic that's sort of always present in every and any aspect of human society and culture-- technology, political structures, media, economics, entertainment, the world-wide-web-- when you think about "the powers" from that angle, well, let's just say there's a lot of "wind" on the menu in the restaurant that is modern North American Society.

May God would give his people a craving for the good, solid, wholesome food that is life with him, and keep us from consuming all those empty calories.

Time Being, a song

I know you, I didn’t think so
But your light came shining through my window
If believing comes only by seeing
I’m watching for the time being

What could I do? Sometimes you sink so
Low your sight plays tricks on you, the shadows
Make believe it’s true. I’m not disagreeing
Just asking for the time being

And for the time being my anchor and my wind
And for the time being you (and me together)
And for the time being I hope it never ends
Until then we can start again, I don’t mind déjà vu

I don’t know you. I used to think so
But tonight it’s all brand new. We don’t know
If we’re leaving soon. There’s no guaranteeing
So hold me for the time being.

Teaching the Gospel of John

I am just wrapping up a great week bible teaching at Arlington Beach Camp in Saskatchewan. We've worked our way through the Gospel of John, using what I call the "helicopter approach" (i.e. touching down on key texts, looking at them closely, and then "lifting off" to see how the same themes/ideas fit into the bigger picture of John's Gospel). I wanted to make the material for this study available in digital form, and figured the blog would be the quickest way.

If you're interested in downloading the Gospel of John material, you can download it by clicking here.

Learning to Walk, a devotional thought

There's this very tender, very poignant passage in Hosea 11, where the prophet is talking about how much God loves his people (Ephraim, the Northern Kingdom of Israel), and he pictures it as a mother or father "taking their child by the arms" and teaching them how to walk. I remember back when my children were learning to walk, how thrilling that was for me, as their parent: holding them by both hands while they wobbled ahead tentatively, and speaking all sorts of encouragement and affirmation over them, as they took every next step. And God says to Ephraim-- and through Ephraim, to us-- "I was like that with you, as you learned to walk in the spiritual life, holding you lovingly and calling you on in those next teetering steps, and the next, and the next, till you could do it on your own (and even then, I didn't let you go)."

I've been walking for a while now-- so long that I can't really remember a time when I couldn't--but Hosea 11:3 prompts me to remember those times when it was all wobbly and brand new-- life as a Christian-- and every spiritual step was a milestone and a triumph and an adventure all at once.

We must remember how he held us by the hands while we learned to walk, like that, because the problem in Hosea, is that God's People have forgotten. They figure they learned to walk on their own. "You did not realize" God goes on to say in verse 3, "that it was I who healed you." Suddenly, learning to walk has transformed into deep spiritual healing (because, after all, that's what was really happening when you were learning to walk with Jesus: you were being healed, even if you didn't realize it).  May God will keep us all from falling into Ephraim's trap, the trap of thinking I'm a self-taught walker when it comes to spiritual things, instead of acknowledging myself as a God-healed toddler.

Mighty Warrior (The Lord is With You), a song

Another song from my most recent recording project, inversions.  I actually wrote the lyrics almost 20 years ago, and stumbled across them last summer in an old note book.  The tune needed major overhauling, but here's what I was left with after more than a little re-working.  Special thanks to my daughters for lending me their flute and clarinet on the fills, and my son for his chops on the cajon!



The Lord is with you Mighty Warrior
The Lord is with you Gideon
And even though you hide your heart,
Like grain in the winepress
And even though you think yourself
The weakest and the smallest
The Lord is with you mighty Warrior

The Lord is with you restless Jacob
The Lord is with you Isaac’s Son
And even though you wrestle with him,
Striving till the daybreak
And in your brokenness you beg
A blessing for the heartache
The Lord is with you restless Jacob

Because your weakness
Is his power and your foolishness
Is his grace
The Lord is with you mighty warrior
Though you shrink from his embrace
And he will clothe you with his Spirit
He will arm you with his love
The Lord is with you mighty warrior
He will guard you from above

The Lord is with you barren Hannah
The Lord is with you empty one
And even though you whisper dreams
In the shadow of the altar
And even though you lift your prayer,
Till your voice starts to falter
The Lord is with you barren Hannah

Because your weakness
Is his power and your foolishness
Is his grace
The Lord is with you mighty warrior
Though you shrink from his embrace
And he will clothe you with his Spirit
He will arm you with his love
The Lord is with you mighty warrior
He will guard you from above

Ripe for Idol-Making, a devotional thought

There's this place in Hosea 10 that makes me wonder about the strange connection between prosperity and idolatry. In Hosea 10:1 God brings this indictment against his people: "You're like a spreading vine," he says, "and as your fruit increased, you increased your (idolatrous) altars; as your land prospered, you adorned your (idolatrous) sacred stones."

There is something counter-intuitive in all this. One would think that the more fruitful the land and the more prosperous the people, the more they would worship the God who prospered them; and yet, as far as Hosea is concerned, the exact opposite actually happens.

Idol-making, it seems, flourishes in direct proportion to the flourishing of the people, and the more "fruitful" they are, the more likely they are to fall into idolatry.

There is something very sobering in this for North American Christians. Could it really be that the more cushy our circumstances, the more likely we are to worship (give our time, money, attention, energy and heart-focus to...) things other than God? There's a warning in there, too, I think for "successful churches" (i.e. churches flourishing by human measurements). Could it be that as a church's material prosperity increases, so too does its potential for idol-making?

I'm not sure if these are rhetorical questions or not, but they are certainly the questions Hosea 10 leaves me with.

The Longing of His Heart, a devotional thought

There's this place in Hosea 7:13 where God bears his soul to us, so to speak, showing us the inner longings of his heart with a tenderness and a transparency that should stop us in our tracks. Throughout the chapter, he's been grieving the spiritual rebellion of his people. They've rejected his Way; they're counting on foreign alliances to prosper them rather than trusting in him; and they're worshipping hand-made things instead of enjoying life with him. And then in verse 13, he gives us a little glimpse of his heart for us: "I would redeem them," it says, "but they speak lies against me." The NIV's translation is even more poignant: "I long to redeem them, but they speak lies against me."

God, it turns out, is passionate about redemption, longing to be the redeemer God in our lives. And one of the things that keeps us from experiencing him like this, it seems, is holding to an untrue, inaccurate or self-deceptive view of him. To be redeemed is to be set free from God-lies--the false perceptions of God that we cling to because they're easier, because they're safer, because they're ours to control, or whatever the reason--and in order to be redeemed, Hosea would add, we must let go of these things. To let God be God as God is, our own human limitations on what a god can or can't do or be damned-- this is, perhaps, a scary way to be sometimes; but it is also, I think, a path to the deepest kind of life with him.