Posted in Through the Bible Devotions

A faith journey

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Karina Syrotiuk on Unsplash

I was today years old when I learned some things about Abram I had never thought about before (from Genesis 12).

  • When the Lord said to Abram, “Leave your country…and go to the land I will show you,” it wasn’t the first time he spoke those words. According to Acts 7:2-4, God gave him those instructions when he was in Mesopotamia. In Genesis 11:31, the family only made it to Haran. The Lord gives them another nudge, and they finally settle in Canaan (12:5). I wonder why they didn’t go the whole way the first time?
  • The Lord said, “Leave…your people” (12:1). Abram mostly did, but took his nephew Lot with him (12:4). Lot would trouble later when Abram had to give him part of the land (13:5-9), and later when Abram had to rescue him from captors (14:16). Maybe he should have left him home.
  • Then, when there’s a famine, Abram goes to Egypt to find food. While there, Sarai acquires an Egyptian maidservant named Hagar, whom she would hate when Abram fathers a child with her (16:1). Maybe they should have trusted God to provide for them in Canaan.

Even though childless, Abram believed God’s promise to make him the father of a great nation. He’s the poster child of faith: “Abram believed the Lord, and he credited it to him as righteousness” (15:6). But rather than a heroic faith, Abram had a growing faith. Abram made some questionable choices, but always circled back to square one, built an altar, and called on the name of the Lord (12:8; 13:18). His actions had consequences, but nothing can derail God’s plans. And along the way, Abram learned how to trust God.

Posted in Through the Bible Devotions

Never again

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Elly Johnson on Unsplash

“Then Noah built an altar to the Lord and, taking some of all the clean animals and clean birds, he sacrificed burnt offerings on it. The Lord smelled the pleasing aroma and said in his heart: ‘Never again will I curse the ground because of humans, even though every inclination of the human heart is evil from childhood. And never again will I destroy all living creatures, as I have done'” (Genesis 8:20,21).

The flood is over. The ark has come to rest. Noah, his family, and all the animals have disembarked. It’s time to start over. Noah begins with a sacrifice to the Lord, who is pleased with the aroma. No matter how evil humans and their hearts are, the Lord decides this will never happen again. No more curses. No more destruction. No more floods (Genesis 9:11).

At first glance, that might seem like Noah certainly came through with that act of worship. A sacrifice that pleases the Lord is a big deal. It changes the whole trajectory of history from that moment on.

All of that is true. But don’t overlook the awesome underlying Messianic truth here. Every Old Testament sacrifice points to the sacrifice Jesus made for us on the cross. His once for all suffering and death on the cross means a way out of the curse, judgment, and destruction sin and evil demands. Never again will God unleash such devastation on the earth because he unloaded it all on his own son.

Remember what God said at Jesus’s baptism and transfiguration? “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased” (Matthew 3:17; 17:5). A pleasing, all sufficient, once-for-all sacrifice that means we’ll never again have to worry about that flood of God’s wrath.

Posted in Through the Bible Devotions

Why are you so upset?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Andre Hunter on Unsplash

When I get to Genesis 4, I have so many questions.

  • What was wrong with Cain’s offering?
  • Why was Cain so angry? (Even the Lord asks, “Why are you angry?”)
  • Was Cain angry at God or at his brother Abel?
  • Why did Cain’s anger escalate to murder? Did he set out to kill his brother? Or did his anger get out of control?

I’ve got three clues from scripture to help me understand.

“By faith Abel brought God a better offering than Cain did” (Hebrews 11:4).

“Do not be like Cain, who belonged to the evil one and murdered his brother. And why did he murder him? Because his own actions were evil and his brother’s were righteous” (1 John 3:12).

“Woe to [these ungodly people]! They have taken the way of Cain; they have rushed for profit into Balaam’s error; they have been destroyed in Korah’s rebellion” (Jude 11).

So Cain had more than just anger issues. He rejected God. His response both to the Lord and Abel stemmed from unbelief. Cain is numbered with Balaam and Korah, who foolish rebelled against God.

The first sin is disobeying God’s instruction, “You must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil” (Genesis 2:17). From there, things progress from bad to worse. The next recorded sin is murder. No wonder Cain’s offering was unacceptable. His life was on a trajectory away from God. “Without faith it is impossible to please God” (Hebrews 11:6).

Every Old Testament sacrifice pointed to Christ, the sacrifice for sin. If worship is about you rather than him, you’re missing the point.

Posted in Through the Bible Devotions

Good and evil

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Dominik Van Opdenbosch on Unsplash

The Lord God commanded the man, “You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat from it you will certainly die” (Genesis 2:16).

When the woman saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom, she took some and ate it (3:6).

We’re not adept at discerning good and evil. Things that feel good, look good, smell good, and taste good aren’t necessarily good for us. Plus, it’s an ever-changing standard. Things that used to be good for us turned out to be bad, and vice versa. Eggs used to be bad. Now we need them for essential fats. Butter used to be bad. But then we discovered that substitutes like margerine were worse. Coffee? That’s like the weather. Good one day, bad the next. Some cut salt out of their diet only to discover their sodium levels are dangerously low.

People who dress nicely and command respect aren’t always good people. Those who look a little rough around the edges turn out to be the nicest people you’ve ever met.

And then there’s the assumption that if something is good for us, more of that will be even better. Most of the time, that’s not true. Too much of a good dose might just be harmful to your health, if not lethal.

The knowledge of good and evil takes us down a rabbit hole of trying to figure out things that are far beyond our understanding rather than trusting God to point or lead us in the right direction. We usually get it wrong. And God knew that this would only result in suffering, death, and separation from him.

God wasn’t surprised by their disobedience. He knew about the tempter, the temptation, the disobedience, and the consequences. The need and his plan for a Savior was in place before creation (Ephesians 1).

As Jesus would later say, “There is only one who is good” (Matthew 19:17). We don’t have to figure it out. He’s the one.

Posted in Through the Bible Devotions

Who are you talking to?

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Image by Surprising_Media from Pixabay

“And God said…” (Genesis 1:3)

Who is God talking to?

“The earth was formless and empty” (1:2). There’s no one else around.

Who is he talking to?

I daily walk by people who seem to be talking to themselves. But then I see their AirPods or ear buds and realize they are talking to someone on the phone.

Others aren’t on the phone. But they still have much to say to someone (or someones) living in their mind. You know, that little voice that won’t shut up.

Or they are talking to themselves, just as we do sometimes. I’ll tell myself to keep quiet, keep walking, just listen, let it go, ignore them, just smile, be kind, take a breath, etc. You know what I mean.

On the one hand, you could say God is talking to himself. A triune God is never wanting for some to talk with.

On the other hand, God doesn’t make small talk. When he speaks, something happens. In the verses to follow, God speaks and there’s light, sky, land, plants, fish, birds, and animals. His word is creative. God can speak to nothing at all and suddenly something exists.

So if you talk to yourself, it’s okay. Just think of it as being created in the image of God. Or being like Jesus, by whom and through whom all things were made.

Or maybe you’ve got one of those voices that makes things happen. You motivate and encourage. You teach and explain. You persuade and lead. The world is different, better after you’ve spoken.

For six weeks during Covid isolation I preached sermons to an iphone on a tripod. I felt like I was talking to no one. Or simply to myself. It was a very strange feeling. I have no idea who heard my words. That feels like such a long time ago.

What happens when someone speaks God’s word?

Posted in Easter

Bunnies

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I know it’s not not the main thing but I’ve never known an Easter where the bunny hasn’t been a major player. Having said that, I was surprised to see more bunnies on my walk this morning than ever. I thought they would all have the day off.

So the question is, how did the Easter bunny get a leading part in the celebration?

From what I’ve read, both hares and eggs were old Germanic symbols of fertility and new life. When the Christian celebration of Easter replaced pagan spring festivals, it absorbed those symbols. An egg breaks open to reveal new life, just as Jesus’s resurrection broke the power of death to give believers new, eternal life.

Somehow, the story evolved so that bunnies brought eggs, candy, and toys to the nests, and eventually baskets, of well-behaved children. I remember dying real hard-boiled eggs for Easter. But those have mostly given way to a wide variety of egg-shaped jelly beans, chocolate eggs, candy-filled plastic eggs, speckled egg-shaped malted milk balls, and every sort of candy you can imagine. And who doesn’t love chocolate bunnies, filled with marshmallow, peanut butter, or creme fillings?

And the bunny? He was alive and well when I was in Texas last week. This one wasn’t as creepy as most. And I’ll bet he got the day after Easter off, too.

Posted in dogs

Zig-zagging through the neighborhood

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Klim Musalimov on Unsplash

We (my Great Dane and I) see her most mornings. A woman, probably in her seventies, walks her small dog (maybe a miniature schnauzer?) on a similar route through our neighborhood. I can see by the still-lit street lights that she’s wearing a yellow zip hoodie and a baseball cap.

She’s usually talking. She’s talking to herself, the dog, or someone on her phone. It’s hard to tell. We always say, “Good morning” to each other as we pass. Or an appropriate seasonal greeting like, “Happy New Year.”

Even though it’s still dark, I can tell she’s approaching from fifty yards down the road. She never walks straight down the other side of the street. She zig-zags from one side of the street to the other. I assume this is her way of getting in twice the distance or double the steps on her daily walk. More bang for the buck, right?

Until she sees us. Then she passes by on the other side, a safe distance from the beast at my side. The little dog acts like we’re not there. The big dog always wants a closer sniff. But we’re not doing that today, or any day for that matter.

I’d never thought of the zig-zag strategy for packing in more miles. I can picture my dog walking down the center of the road, letting me zig-zag, wondering what I’m doing.

Posted in noticing

Car headlights – a close call

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Eugene Triguba on Unsplash

I guess I was on auto-pilot. The sky was just beginning to brighten with the first bit of dawn. It’s a Saturday morning, so there’s little traffic and no school busses on the road.

I saw the headlights. I figured the car would be rounding the corner. But the speed was too fast. The driver came into the curve too wide. The lights came right at me and I knew I better step back. The Great Dane and I stepped a few feet onto someone’s lawn as the car continued right towards us.

It was a close call. The driver barely made the turn. The car clipped the lawn before swerving into the center of the road.

Yeah, I shouted, “Hey!” but I doubt he or she heard me. Whoever was no doubt on getting home from an overnight shift at work. Or focused on their phone. Or zoned out. Or whatever.

I’ll bet they weren’t as startled as I was. They may not even have seen me. They aren’t writing about their close car. Just me.

Most people don’t notice what’s going on around them. They are absorbed in their devices, their tasks, or their worries.

It’s a good thing I notice them.

Posted in holy week, Jesus

Some Good Friday thoughts

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Paul Keiffer on Unsplash

I’m going to ramble a bit on this Good Friday. My mind is filled with an assortment of thoughts and memories.

First, I doubt that many, if any, of us can imagine what Jesus suffered at the hands of the priests and the Roman soldiers. The physical violence started with the high priest, teachers of the law, and elders who punched and slapped Jesus. After Pilate handed Jesus over the to the soldiers, they beat him with a staff, flogged him, put a crown of thorns on his head, drove nails through his hands, and crucified him.

When one fighter overwhelmingly beats and bloodies the other in an MMA octagon, the referee stops the fight. With Jesus they don’t stop, but dish out more and more punishment. We wince at the “little pinch” of a flu shot, make sure we’re numbed up before the dentist fills a small cavity, and groan when we get up after sitting too long. Jesus has the flesh on his back torn open with a whip, spikes driven through his hands and feet, and is left to hang by his arms to slowly suffocate . The bell never rings ending the round. There no pain relief, other than the drugged wine Jesus refused. There’s no time out. There’s no tapping out. The pain only stops when Jesus dies.

No painting, drawing, or representation of the crucifixion captures the gruesome horror of Good Friday. Crucifixion was a public execution. Some of those who saw it loved Jesus. Others hated him. I wonder if any of us could watch Christ suffer and die. I would turn away.

We gather for worship on Good Friday, at noon, in the afternoon, or in the evening. Our services are adored with beautiful music, encroaching darkness, descriptive words, and silent exits. The only reason it’s not so bad (good?) for us is because it was terrible for Jesus.

A Good Friday Tenebrae (“shadows” or “darkness”) service will conclude in darkness as the last candle is extinguished. The only way out is through the shadow of death, a valley Jesus traverses with us.

I remember my last Good Friday as a pastor because one grandson lit and another extinguished the candles, surrendering the room to the darkness. I took the huge family King James bible my mom gave us at our wedding, raised it high over my head, and slammed it down on the altar with all my might, to remind all of the stone settling into place, sealing Jesus in the tomb.

It’s a powerful worship moment. Everyone who’s been there before knows what’s going to happen. Yet everyone still gasps when it does.

That book was only called into duty once each spring. But it took a beating, the binding barely holding together when I handed it over to my son to use at his church on Good Friday.

The apostle Paul wrote, “We preach Christ crucified.” This is our message. It’s terrible. And yet it’s wonderful. It illustrates how bad we are and what we deserve. It also proclaims how much God loves us anyway.