We are at the end of yet another "event" in US history, one of those historically insignificant moments that a lot of people make the center of their days. In this case, it is another trial of another accused murderer who was found "not guilty." Now, after weeks of unending discussions of how guilty she was, we will endure days of websites and petitions and speakers telling us how "this tells us something important" about ourselves.
Ultimately, it is one murder trial among hundreds and thousands every year. It is one person found not guilty in what appeared to be a strong case. And I refuse to get involved in this.
As American Christians, we find ourselves bombarded by these kinds of things. We are told that we must drop everything to watch a trial from hundreds of miles away, or to donate to a terrible event around the world, or to weep over the death of some wealthy person we will never know, or to fixate over whether Congress will (or won't) pass some bill that will (or won't) change everything. (It won't, by the way.)
Our churches are too often filled with preachers who seem to care more about politics than grace; who are more concerned with music styles than with lost souls; who are more upset about how young people dance than about whether young people pray.
David had a answer for these concerns in Psalm 131.
O LORD, my heart is not lifted up;
my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
too great and too marvelous for me.
But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child is my soul within me.
Three pretty obvious points. "My heart is not lifted up; my eyes are not raised too high." This means that he no longer concerns himself with things outside his realm of responsibility. It is not my job to be concerned about a jury in Florida, but about my neighbor where I live. It is not my job to be watching how other prosecutors do their jobs, but how things are done where I live.
"I do not occupy myself with things too great and marvelous for me." I do not, in other words, try to solve the problems of the world, but the problems with which I am actually involved. God is running the world, I need to take care of what is mine to care for. I will not send money to a "ministry" that lobbies Congress for special laws when that money could feed the hungry among whom I live. I will not fear the future, for God holds the future. I am not trying to save America, but to find sheep for my Shepherd.
"I have calmed and quieted my soul." We have, for some reason, entered a phase of calling on people to be filled with "passion," yet another modern invention of churches. Christians are not people of passion but of calm, of quiet, of confidence, of peace. We have a ministry of peace. The peace of God (not a "passion") will keep our hearts and minds.
"Like a weaned child with its mother . . . is my soul within me." Have you seen the difference between a weaned child and a child still nursing? My granddaughters are a great example. The oldest is weaned, the youngest is not. The youngest clings to her mother, cries for nursing, cannot be separated from her mother. In short, she lives a life of constant nerves. The older can go places without her mother, can play without her mother, can live calmly without demands on her mother.
Too many Christians live in fear and worry and concern. They are easily upset by every little thing, every news story, every music video. They are like unweaned children, worrying and fretting and concerned about everything. They always want someone to feed and comfort them.
They have no peace. But my God is a God of peace. And the fruit of the Spirit is peace.
Ultimately, it is one murder trial among hundreds and thousands every year. It is one person found not guilty in what appeared to be a strong case. And I refuse to get involved in this.
As American Christians, we find ourselves bombarded by these kinds of things. We are told that we must drop everything to watch a trial from hundreds of miles away, or to donate to a terrible event around the world, or to weep over the death of some wealthy person we will never know, or to fixate over whether Congress will (or won't) pass some bill that will (or won't) change everything. (It won't, by the way.)
Our churches are too often filled with preachers who seem to care more about politics than grace; who are more concerned with music styles than with lost souls; who are more upset about how young people dance than about whether young people pray.
David had a answer for these concerns in Psalm 131.
O LORD, my heart is not lifted up;
my eyes are not raised too high;
I do not occupy myself with things
too great and too marvelous for me.
But I have calmed and quieted my soul,
like a weaned child with its mother;
like a weaned child is my soul within me.
Three pretty obvious points. "My heart is not lifted up; my eyes are not raised too high." This means that he no longer concerns himself with things outside his realm of responsibility. It is not my job to be concerned about a jury in Florida, but about my neighbor where I live. It is not my job to be watching how other prosecutors do their jobs, but how things are done where I live.
"I do not occupy myself with things too great and marvelous for me." I do not, in other words, try to solve the problems of the world, but the problems with which I am actually involved. God is running the world, I need to take care of what is mine to care for. I will not send money to a "ministry" that lobbies Congress for special laws when that money could feed the hungry among whom I live. I will not fear the future, for God holds the future. I am not trying to save America, but to find sheep for my Shepherd.
"I have calmed and quieted my soul." We have, for some reason, entered a phase of calling on people to be filled with "passion," yet another modern invention of churches. Christians are not people of passion but of calm, of quiet, of confidence, of peace. We have a ministry of peace. The peace of God (not a "passion") will keep our hearts and minds.
"Like a weaned child with its mother . . . is my soul within me." Have you seen the difference between a weaned child and a child still nursing? My granddaughters are a great example. The oldest is weaned, the youngest is not. The youngest clings to her mother, cries for nursing, cannot be separated from her mother. In short, she lives a life of constant nerves. The older can go places without her mother, can play without her mother, can live calmly without demands on her mother.
Too many Christians live in fear and worry and concern. They are easily upset by every little thing, every news story, every music video. They are like unweaned children, worrying and fretting and concerned about everything. They always want someone to feed and comfort them.
They have no peace. But my God is a God of peace. And the fruit of the Spirit is peace.