Tag: Compassion

Hindsight Theology

by Mike Avery, posted in All Articles, Education, Ministry, Theology

“A resolution on reflection”

            For years the Psalms were a mystery to me.  There was something untidy and elusive about them that I just couldn’t wrap my head around.  There were exceptions of course – Psalm 23, 34, 100, etc.  Nevertheless, I primarily saw the Psalms as a “spiritual espresso” that one used when one needed a bit of a lift!  It was Phil Yancey that first provided some interpretive light for my “psalm blindness” in his book, The Bible Jesus Read.  He pointed out that the Psalms are primarily personal letters to God and one must read them as an “over-the-shoulder” reader since the intended audience was not other people but God.  In more recent years, my understanding of the Psalms has grown appreciably by reading Dennis Kinlaw’s book, Lectures in Old Testament Theology. This remarkable book helped me to see the Psalms as a treasure trove of profound theological insight into the person and nature of God.

Today, I read the Psalms and thoroughly enjoy the no-holes-barred look into every aspect of David’s life – identifying with many of his emotions and struggles.  However, it is the practical and theological insight that flows out of these experiences that I find most helpful.  David was a master at taking life’s experiences and turning them into a form of Hebrew poetry that is filled with both wisdom and deep insight into the character of God. Obviously, David wrote most of his Psalms after he had experienced the particular trial or difficulty he is writing about.   This allows him to write from “hindsight” and it is out of that reflective “look back” that he offers some practical advice for every spiritual traveler as well as some of the most remarkable insights into the character of God.   I like to call this “Hindsight Theology.”

An example of this is found in Psalm 40 (read it now).  David is journaling about a time of inward disquiet, deep anxiety or trouble.  What valuable truth comes out of David’s reflections?

Patience is a key ingredient in navigating difficult times.

David says he “waited patiently for Yahweh”.  The Hebrew implies that he waited and waited and waited.  David learned that, “God will avenge his own elect, which cry day and night unto him, though he bears long with them?” (Luke 18:7).  The key in coming through the trials of life successfully is patience.

Patience finds its footing in the knowledge of a faithful God.

             David says, “He turned to me” – “He heard my cry” –   “He lifted me out” — “He set my feet on a rock” – “He gave me a firm place to stand.”  Verse 11 says, “thy lovingkindness and thy truth continually preserve me”.  David is testifying to the truth that God will always respond as He does because that is the kind of God that He is.

 Personal transformation is the silver lining behind every dark cloud.

“He put a new song in my mouth, even praise to God.”

                 Horatio G. Spafford, a successful Chicago attorney, Presbyterian Church elder and a dedicated Christian is a sterling example of this truth.  Within a three year period, Spafford lost his only son to scarlet fever, his vast real estate holdings in the Chicago fire and his four remaining daughters in an accident at sea.  Out of the tragedy, Spafford penned the words to the famous hymn, It is Well with My Soul.  It is believed that Horatio took the words “It is well” from the words of the Shunammite woman who lost her only son but was later raised from the dead by Elisha (II Kings 4:26 ).

 Difficult times are not just about us. God can use them to exalt His name and extend His kingdom.

“Many will see and fear the Lord and put their trust in him”.

             As I face this New Year, I am resolved to do a better job of reflecting on the “ups and downs” of life with the intent of seeing God’s loving hand at work in molding me into the image of His dear Son.

The Least of These My Brethren

by Mike Avery, posted in All Articles, Christian Living, Ministry

–May of 2007

The Least of These My Brethren

If you have ever walked through the dark slums of Cairo or Calcutta, then you know the deep inner pain of beholding some of the most destitute people in the world.   Maybe you have visited a hospice in South Africa where AIDS babies lay dying, or an orphanage in Romania where “touch starved” babies appear almost inhuman.  If so, you know that inner ache that defies language.  For most Americans, the closest contact to anything remotely similar to this is passing a homeless person on the street or looking into the empty eyes of a nursing-home patient who has been abandoned by his family, or coming into contact with someone who is severely retarded.   The emotions you feel are only a small reflection of how our Heavenly Father must feel when He looks down upon those He calls the “least of these my brethren….”  He describes who they are in Matthew 25:34-40,

“Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: For I was an hungered, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me. Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungered, and fed thee? Or thirsty, and gave thee drink? When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? Or naked, and clothed thee? Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee? And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”

God reserves a special place in His heart for the socially disenfranchised, the economically disadvantaged, and the physically disabled.  As a matter of fact, this group is so close to His heart that to serve them is to serve Him, a service that brings the reward of eternal life.  On the other hand, a failure to serve Him by serving them carries the sentence of eternal wrath.  This should not surprise us.   In the book of Deuteronomy we see a God that, “executes justice for the orphan and widow, and…loves the strangers, providing them food and clothing.”  God also institutionalized a system of compassionate justice for Jewish civil life through such things as the law of gleaning and the Year of Jubilee.  He became angry with Judah when she failed to “share your bread with the hungry, and bring the homeless poor into your house” (Isa.58:5-7).

Jesus made it very clear in Matthew 22:37-40 that love for God compels us into compassionate love for our neighbor, and then carefully defined who our neighbor was in the story of the Good Samaritan.   Social compassion is extremely high on God’s agenda.

Historically the holiness movement has had a very clear understanding that true holiness had a strong social dimension. Wesley said, “All holiness is social holiness”; that is, we cannot think that we are holy in our personal lives if that holiness does not motivate us to practice justice, mercy, and compassion.  In the holiness tradition, social compassion is where the central issue of holiness—love—meets the road.  The power to live a virtuous life doesn’t stop within ourselves, but extends outward into our relationships with others. We feed the hungry.  We help the helpless.  We reach out to the orphan, the widow, the weak and the shoved aside.  We look for those who are excluded or neglected because of their social status, or their race, or their background, or their age, or any number of other things, and do all we can to bring them into the social and spiritual network of the community and the Church.

Our civilization will be judged by how we have treated our most helpless citizens.  If we turn away from them, we will extinguish our own light.  If we fail to understand that loving and serving Jesus means loving and serving them, we will be destined to hear these words, “Depart from Me, you cursed, into everlasting fire…for inasmuch as you did it not to one of the least of these, you did it not unto me.”

“What’s In It For Me?”

by Mike Avery, posted in All Articles, Christian Living, Ministry, Theology

–October of 2002

“What’s In It For Me?”

Over the years I have interviewed a number of people for ministry positions.  Some as potential pastors and missionaries, others for a position here at the college.  I’ve made it a practice to listen very carefully for some form of the question, “What’s in it for me?”  I have found this to be a pivotal question that often reveals the kind of person who gives themselves only if there is an equal return to them.  They aren’t prepared to invest themselves in the lives of others for the sheer joy of making a difference.  They lack the servant spirit.

What this question reveals is becoming increasingly important as our American culture becomes more and more obsessed with materialism.  The quest for the larger house, the faster car, the more expensive wardrobe has become the pre-occupation of not only the general population but many in Christian ministry.  Given the fact of our economic prosperity, the pressure of contemporary culture, and the natural pull of a sinful heart, it’s too easy for a person today to become a creature obsessed with security and comfort, and incapable of throwing himself into a higher cause.

This dilemma is as old as sin itself.  Adam and Eve thought there was something more for them.  Lot’s lust for real estate in the Jordan Valley cost him more than he ever wanted to pay.  Paul addressed this problem from his jail cell in Rome.  He warned the Philippian Christians about those who preach Christ “out of envy and strife” (Phil. 1:15).  The word translated “strife” does not literally mean strife.  It’s the Greek word erithea and basically means a payment made to advance a person’s own interest.  Paul was describing those who preach the gospel for their own gain.  He told the Philippian church that the antidote to this self seeking was to have the mind of Christ — the attitude of soul that does nothing out of selfish ambition but finds joy in the opportunity to pour out one’s life for others.

Does the gospel offer deliverance from this self-serving focus?  It did for Timothy.  Paul told the Philippians that Timothy would “naturally care for your state” in contrast to those who seek their own interest.  It did for Paul.  Paul’s word to the Corinthian church was “for I am not in this job for what I can get out of it, but for what benefits I can bring to the many, that they may be saved” (Barclay’s translation).

Can grace so “re-orient” our hearts until the primary focus of our life is no longer our own but that of others?  Can we be truly cleansed from the question “what’s in it for me?”  The Bible makes it clear that we can.  As a matter of fact, it’s at the very heart of the gospel’s power to make us like Christ.