Ep.136: Weeds Among the Wheat.

Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray With Me”.

In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus’ second parable is about wheat and weeds.

Here’s the story.

Jesus said that the kingdom of heaven is like a farmer who planted wheat. But soon the farmhands reported, “Your wheatfield is full of weeds. How did that happen?”

“My enemy must have sowed the weeds,” he replied.

“Shall we pull them up?” asked the helpers.

“No don’t do it,” replied the farmer. “If you pull the weeds, you’ll damage the wheat. Let the weeds and wheat grow together until harvest. Then we can separate the weeds and burn them, and gather the wheat into the barn.”

Here are three questions about this parable.
– Jesus used the story to teach about the kingdom of heaven. So what is the kingdom of heaven?
– Second, where did the enemy come from? and finally
– How does this parable teach us to deal with evil?

Let’s start by looking at what Matthew calls “the kingdom of heaven”. Mark and Luke call it “the kingdom of God”. Clearly, God is king, but he’s invisible. Jesus is his man, but he was hung on a cross. The church is his people, but we are a squabbling, divisive, disorganized crew. I am an agent in God’s kingdom, but my loyalties are conflicted and my behavior inconsistent. Is God really king over all this chaos? Jesus’ answer is, “Yes, he is. But he doesn’t express his kingship with incessant tweets or military parades or displays power. He expresses his kingship with simple, unremarkable strategies like sowing seed and watching it grow.”

Meanwhile, God’s enemy is also sowing seeds in the world. Where did this enemy come from? If God created everything that exists, and if he created it all good, where did something go bad? Who invented the weeds? Jesus, like the rest of the Bible, never gives a clear answer to this question. The answer implied in this parable is, “Look at the world you live in. Clearly, there’s lots of good crops sown by God and lots of bad stuff sown by someone else. It’s God’s enemy who works in weeds and disease and war and chaos.”

So, what to do about the evil in the world? In Jesus’ wheat-and-weeds parable, the farmhands want to rip out the weeds and destroy the evil. Perhaps a drone strike will fix the weeds. Or spray them with lethal chemicals. Get right on the problem before it gets worse! But Jesus says, “No, don’t do it. If you try to identify and uproot all the evil, you’ll destroy most of the good along with it. Let the good and the evil grow together, and we’ll sort it out at harvest time.”

Let’s pray.

Jesus, you were born into a world with a long history of cruel kingdoms and relentless warfare and monstrous disasters and disease. But it is also a history marked with human love and creativity and beauty. And you announced that this world is God’s kingdom. And that the good seeds God planted in this field called “Earth” are growing inevitably into a harvest.

On good days, we see and believe this, Lord. But on bad days, the weeds of evil fill our vision, and we fear the strong enemy who sows chaos. We live among the weeds of pandemic and economic crisis, and we grow our own weeds of fear and isolation. But through it all your good seed grows along with the evil, in communities that share their goods instead of hoarding, in the medical staff that risk their lives to heal the sick, in the governments that pass aid packages to help people through crises, and in our hearts when we trust that you care for us.

O God, watch over your good seed as it grows in fields of disease and violence. Help us watch patiently as the good and the evil grow around us. Bring your harvest quickly, when you will burn the weeds and gather the wheat forever.

Amen.

I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.

Ep.135: Psalm 91: The Plague that Destroys.

Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray with Me”.

As the Coronavirus pandemic escalates in Europe and North America, I turn to Psalm 91. Here’s what it offers me.

As a psalm of trust in God, it opens with powerful images:
The one who lives in the shelter of the Most High,
will rest at night under his shadow (v. 1). *
Say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress,
my God in whom I trust.”
Surely he will save you from the hunter’s snare
and from the deadly pandemic (vv. 2-3).

The psalm continues with these pictures of God’s protection:
He will cover you with his feathers,
and under his wings you will find refuge;
His faithfulness will be your shield (v. 4).

In World War II, when my father was a medic in the Philippines, a wasting disease ran through the troops. My father took these verses from Psalm 91 for his comfort and protection:
I will not fear the terror of night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,
nor the disease that stalks in the darkness
nor the epidemic that destroys at noon.
A thousand may die at your side,
ten thousand at your right hand,
but it will not come near you (vv. 5-7).

God kept my father from the disease and protected his life in the war. Twenty years later, mid-way through his fifties, he got cancer and turned to Psalm 91 again, this time to God’s promise:
You will call on me and I will answer;
I will be with you in trouble,
I will deliver you and honor you.
With long life will I satisfy you
and show you my salvation (vv. 15-16).

After a cancer operation and radiation my father lived the rest of his life cancer-free. When he died at age 78, with tears in my eyes I read Psalm 91 at his funeral from his worn King James Bible.

Today, in the Coronavirus pandemic, I turn to Psalm 91 because it brings me home to my father’s faith and to my own. God was with my father in his times of trouble–the Great Depression in the 1930’s, World War in the 1940’s, and cancer in the 1960’s. God is my refuge too. He will see me through the plunging stock market, the raging pandemic, the social distancing, and the changed world that emerges.

Let’s pray.

Our father, we pray parts of Psalm 91.
We live in your shelter
and spend our nights in your shadow.
In times of trouble we run to you for refuge,
we trust you with our lives.

Save us from the hunter’s snare,
from the deadly pandemic.
Cover us with your feathers,
Protect us under your wings, so that
we will not fear the terrors of night,
nor the arrow that flies by day,
nor the disease that stalks in the darkness
nor the plague that strikes at noon.

Thank you for your promise to us:
Because we love you, you will rescue us.
You will protect us because we acknowledge your name.

You say to us:
Call on me and I will answer you
I will be with you in trouble,
I will deliver you and honor you.
With long life will I satisfy you
and show you my salvation.

Amen.

I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.

See Alter, Robert. The Book of Psalms: A Translation with Commentary. (New York: W. W. Norton & Company, Inc., 2007. 91:1) for translating verse 1b as a night image.

Ep.134: The Farmer and the Seeds.

Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray With Me”.

Today, we look at Jesus’ parable of the sower. Here’s the story. When a farmer sowed his field, some seeds fell on the path and the birds ate them. Some fell on rocky ground where they grew quickly, but soon the sun scorched the new growth. Some seeds fell among thorns, but the thorns choked the young plants. And some fell on good ground and produced a generous crop.

When the disciples were alone with Jesus, they said, “What was that all about?”

Jesus explained that the seed is the word of God, it is the message Jesus brings, which gets different responses from different people. When people don’t understand the message, the evil one snatches it from them, like birds pecking seeds on the path. Some people, like seeds on rocky ground, receive Jesus’ message gladly and believe for a little while, but something else attracts their attention and they move on to other interests. Some people, like the seeds falling among thorns, receive Jesus’ words; but the weeds of worry and riches and pleasures choke the little plants. Finally, the seeds on good ground are those with a “noble and good heart, who hear Jesus’ message, retain it, and by persevering, produce a crop” (Luke 8:15).

Here are three observations on this parable:

First, some people want to change the title from the “Parable of the Sower” to the “Parable of the Soils” because they say the point of the story is in the different types of soil. In this view, we need to take soil samples in our life, and create conditions in which Jesus’ word will grow in us. I agree that this is one of the points of the parable. But another important point is the sower’s point of view: when people preach Jesus’ message, what sort of responses should they expect? As for the title, since in Matthew’s gospel Jesus called his story the “Parable of the Sower”, I stick with his title.

Second, the parable demonstrates that Jesus’ words are not always powerful in themselves. In the creation story, when God spoke his word, the universe sprang into being. This makes us think, “God’s word is powerful. It can do anything. Jesus’ words should be the same!”

But the parable of the sower doesn’t teach it that way. The word of God Jesus teaches does not automatically take root in your life and create something new and amazing.
When I was in seminary, one of the students asked, “Why aren’t people’s lives changed when they hear God’s word preached every Sunday?” I commented to him that Jesus expected his words to be eaten by birds and stolen by the evil one and scorched by the sun and choked by thorns. He anticipated that only some of his words would be received, that only some would find good soil to grow in.

My last observation is that if you want Jesus’ message to change your life, it requires some cooperation and effort on your part. Let bits of the word settle like seeds into the soil of your life, water the seeds and protect them from the scorching sun, and pull the weeds, until the message matures into a harvest.

Let’s pray.

Our father, what kind of soil are we? I suspect most of us are a mixed landscape. Some places in our lives are rocky soil where your word doesn’t grow. Some places are overgrown with weeds that choke your word. And some places are rich soil where we love your word and let it grow in us and change us.

We ask you to increase the good soil in our lives. Pull up the weeds, pick out the rocks, protect the tender plants that take root, and help us mature in the warm sunshine of your love.

Amen.

I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.

Ep.133: Psalm 58: Bathe Your Feed in Blood.

Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray with Me”.

There’s a striking and disturbing image in Psalm 58. It says,
The righteous will be glad when they are avenged,
when they bathe their feet in the blood of the wicked (v. 10).

Imagine for a moment a foot bath where you soothe your weary feet in the warm blood of your enemies. Disturbing, eh? But this bloody image in Psalm 58 is as current as today’s news.

Consider Syria’s nine-year civil war: half a million dead, 5 million refugees, and 7 million internally displaced people. Bashar al-Assad has waged a brutal war, using chemical weapons and targeting hospitals, schools, and other civilian areas. The Economist magazine (KAL, “KAL’s Cartoon.” The Economist.com. Web. 5 Mar. 2020.) published a cartoon with al-Assad and Vladmir Putin in a bathtub filled with blood. Al-Assad says , “Should we be afraid of the corona-virus?” Dismissively waving a bloody hand, Putin replies, “We wash our hands regularly.”

Psalm 58 responds to news like this with a prayer that those who create needless wars and bloodbaths should themselves be bloodily defeated.

In reflecting on psalms of vengeance like this, I offer three observations.

First, the psalms are not about the conflicts of everyday life. They are not about the rude sales clerk or the annoying neighbour or the unreasonable manager. No, they are written and prayed as a response to extreme instances of injustice and bloodshed.

My second observation is that these psalms paint very real pictures of war, injustice, violence, and evil. We North Americans often turn blind eyes to the tragedy in Syria, the brutal war in Yemen, the imprisonment of Uighurs in China, to ruthless African dictators, and to political corruption and poverty in Haiti. The psalms however paint vivid pictures of violence, and they respond with appropriately violent emotions, and with calls for justice.

My third observation is that the psalms of vengeance are prayers to God, not a call for the oppressed to rise up violently against their oppressors. In the psalms, it is God who executes justice, not us. We pray to him, as does the poet, “Your kingdom come”. We look with Paul for the time when the Lord Jesus will come from heaven with blazing fire to relieve those who suffer and to punish with everlasting destruction the workers of violence (2 Thess. 1:7-9).

Let’s pray.

Our father, we are less enthusiastic than the poet about bathing our feet in the blood of the wicked. But we share his deep desire that you show yourself powerful on behalf of all the oppressed. We share his conviction that these bloody-minded leaders are like venomous cobras that have stopped their ears to the flute of the snake charmer. Will nothing, will no one convince them to stop the killing?

With the poet we urge you to destroy the perpetrators of violence. Let your justice hunt them down. Let their actions boomerang on themselves. Let the chemicals they spray on others blow back on them. We agree with the poet, that you should:
– Break their teeth (v. 6)
– Make them disappear like evaporating water (v. 7)
– Make them melt into slime like slugs (v. 8)

And Lord, if you have a better solution for relieving oppression and fighting injustice, we are ready to hear it. With the poet, we express our confidence in you, our God:
Surely you reward the righteous,
surely there is a God who judges the earth (v. 11).

Amen.

I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.

KAL Cartoon, The Economist, 5 March 2020. https://www.economist.com/the-world-this-week/2020/03/05/kals-cartoon

Ep.132: Book Review: Fosdick, The Meaning of Prayer.

Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray With Me”.

Today we look at The Meaning of Prayer by Harry Emerson Fosdick (New York: Association Press, 1915), published in 1915 during the first world war. My copy is a pocket size hardcover edition which I inherited from my mother.

The book covers topics like :“Prayer as Communion with God”, “Hindrances and Difficulties [in Prayer]”, “Unanswered Prayer”, and “Prayer as a Battlefield”. Each chapter contains seven daily devotionals, followed by comments and further teaching, and concludes with suggestions for study and discussion.

I’m using the daily devotional part for Lent this year, marking my place each day with the ribbon. Last week, my wife told me she picked up the book, opened it at random, and read one of the daily devotionals. “It’s really good,” she said. So the book comes not just with my recommendation, which many people consider unreliable, but also with my departed mother’s recommendation and my wife’s. It must be good.

The daily devotionals are well written, accessible, and usually quote the Bible and two or three authors on the topic of the day. Each finishes with a prayer from someone famous–Samuel Johnson, Anselm, Bernard of Clairvaux, Augustine, Thomas a Kempis, and others.

The first devotional is titled “First Day, First Week.” Here’s an excerpt: “Samuel Johnson once was asked what the strongest argument for prayer was, and he replied, ‘Sir, there is no argument for prayer.’ One need only read Johnson’s own petitions . . . to see he was not declaring prayer to be irrational; he was stressing that praying is like breathing or eating, that we do it because we are human, and afterward argue about it as best we can” (Fosdick, 1, paraphrased).

Another devotional reflects the World War One situation at the time Fosdick was writing. He says, “Prayer has been greatly discredited in the minds of many by its use during war. Men have felt the absurdity of praying on the opposite sides of a battle, of making God a tribal leader in heaven, to give victory as Zeus and Apollo used to do, to their favorites” (Fosdick, 3).

I like the devotional that quotes Abraham Lincoln saying, “I have been driven many times to my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I have nowhere else to go; my own wisdom and that of all around me seems insufficient for the day” (Fosdick, 6).

I also like that Fosdick has a chapter on “Prayer as a Battlefield”. Here he quotes the Psalms and Jesus in Gethsemane and Paul on spiritual warfare. He says, “No one. . .has ever succeeded in describing the achievement of goodness except in terms of a fight. As Paul says, ‘The flesh wars against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh’” (Fosdick, 162, paraphrased).

That’s Harry Emerson Fosdick, The Meaning of Prayer. Over a hundred years old, a bit dated, but well written, thoughtful, and encouraging.

You can buy the book on Amazon, or get a free pdf on the internet.

Let’s pray.

Our Father, Fosdick says, “The intellectual puzzles are found in the fringes of prayer; prayer at its center is a simple and as profound as friendship” (Fosdick, 35).

O God, strip away our intellectual doubts, our false and unworthy thoughts of you, and our false and unworthy prayers, until we are left face to face with you, the living God, in a friendship where we speak and listen to your quiet voice.

Amen.

I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.

Ep.131: Psalm 57: In the Shelter of His Wings.

Psalm 57 has a striking interplay of images on earth compared with images in heaven.

On earth, the poet’s enemies have attacked with vengeance. He says,
I am in the midst of lions;
I dwell among ravenous beasts–
men whose teeth are spears and arrows,
whose tongues are sharp swords (v. 4).

And again,
They spread a net for my feet–
They dug a pit in my path (v. 6).

But the poet’s vision is not earthbound and enemy-centered. He twice says,
Be exalted, O God, above the heavens;
let your glory be over all the earth (vv. 5, 11).

The poet lifts his eyes above the trouble and chaos of life, above the crouching lions and pit-digging enemies, to see the God who rules above the heavens, who displays his glory over all the earth.

Let’s pray.

Have mercy on me, my God, have mercy on me,
I will take refuge in the shadow of your wings
until the disaster has passed (v. 1).

How often we feel the day of disaster. A day when we succumb to temptation. A day when we face criticism and rejection from family and friends and coworkers. A day when the enemies described in Ephesians attack us. As Paul says: “Our warfare is not against flesh and blood . . but against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” We want to live a Christ-like life, but it’s more difficult than we imagined. We feel anger and despair we can’t shake off. We face broken relationships we can’t repair. Inner impulses and outer temptations trap us every time. O God, shelter us under your wings. Shelter us against the evil inside us and outside. Shelter us, against the world, the flesh, and the devil.

I cry out to God Most High,
to God, who vindicates me.
He sends from heaven and saves me,
rebuking those who hotly pursue me–
God sends forth his love and his faithfulness (vv. 2-3).

Rebuke our enemies, O God. Rebuke the lust and lethargy that creep up on us. Rebuke the arrogance that consumes us as we criticize the media and the politics and the management where we live and work. Rebuke the naysayers who discourage and the prosperity gospellers who entice. Rebuke the spirit of the age–the gospel of consumerism and self-management and individualism. Lord, dwell in us, form our spirits into your image, draw us out of consumerism into stewardship, out of self-management into dependence on you, out individualism and isolation into community.

Our heart is steadfast, O God,
Our heart is steadfast;
We will sing and make music.
Awake, my soul!
Awake, harp and lyre!
I will awaken the dawn (vv. 7-8).

O God, with the poet we turn our gaze to the warmth of your smile. We rest in the shadow of your wings. We leave our complaints and requests for you to dispose of. We arouse our inner self that has lived in fear and depression. We worship with songs and hymns. We wait for your new day to dawn upon us.

Send forth your love and faithfulness (v. 3).
Be exalted, O God, above the heavens;
let your glory be over all the earth (v. 11).

Amen.

I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.

Ep.130: Book Review: The Confessions of St. Augustine.

Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray With Me”.

Today we look at The Confessions of St. Augustine, which is his autobiographical memoir, written about 397 A.D., not long after his appointment as Bishop of Hippo, North Africa. In the book, Augustine recounts his life and wanderings from boyhood through age 33 when he became a Christian.

The book is a prayer–Augustine’s extended, passionate, poetic communication to God. With remarkable insight and eloquence, he prays the story of his life and his searching, letting the reader eavesdrop on his personal relationship with God.

The book is also Augustine’s confession in several senses. First, he confesses the sins of life–theft, intellectual pride, lust, self-promotion. He also confesses, or discloses, who he is: an intellectual wanderer, a searcher for truth and God, a wayward son, a sensitive and introspective soul. Augustine also confesses his faith in God. For example, he says to God,

How tortuous were my paths! . . . Toss and turn as we may, now on our back, now side, now belly–our bed is hard at every point, for you alone are our rest. But lo! Here you are; you rescue us from our wretched meanderings and establish us on your way; you say to us, “Run: I will carry you, I will lead you and I will bring you home” (St. Augustine, The Confessions, trans. Sr. Maria Boulding (New York: New City Press, 1997) VI, 16, 26, paraphrased).

I own two copies of The Confessions. The first is Edward Pusey’s 1838 translation, reprinted in 1909 in a Harvard Classics edition (St. Augustine, The Confessions, trans. Edward B. Pusey in The Harvard Classics (New York: The Collier Press, 1909). Since Augustine was schooled in rhetoric and oratory, Pusey’s masterful use of King James English communicates some of the beauty of the original. Alas, the English language has moved on: King James and Shakespeare sound archaic to modern ears. So I recently acquired one of the best modern translations, Maria Boulding’s 1997 version (Boulding).

Here are some of my favorite quotes and stories from The Confessions.

Augustine’s most famous quote is from the first paragraph of the book, where he prays: “You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it finds its rest in you” (Pusey, I, 1, 1, paraphrased).

At age 28, Augustine left North Africa for Rome. His mother, Monica, pleaded with him to stay and prayed to God that he would not go. But Augustine deceived her, departing stealthily at night, leaving her as he says, “mad with grief, filling God’s ears with complaints and groans” (Boulding, V, 15, paraphrased). Augustine sees God’s goodness in this unhappy parting: God denied Monica’s request, in order to answer her prayer. It was in Rome and Milan that Augustine came to faith.

Augustine tells a striking story of his associate Alypius, whose friends dragged him unwillingly to the colosseum in rome. Alypius said to them, “You may drag my body into that place, but you cannot direct my mind and my eyes to the show. I will be present there, and yet be absent” (Boulding, VI, 8, 13, paraphrased). Alypius covered his eyes and disciplined his mind, but at a critical moment in the fight there was a huge roar from the crowd. Overwhelmed with curiosity, Alypius looked up and saw the blood and the brutality and the fallen gladiator. That one look began a deep addiction to the blood sports, that lasted until God delivered him. Violent and addictive shows are not the brainchild of our modern civilization–the only improvement we have made is delivering it right into our homes.

Of people who read his Confessions, Augustine says, “What then have I to do with men, that they should hear my confessions–a race, curious to know the lives of others, slothful to amend their own?” (Pusey, X, 3, paraphrased). He’s still right today. We are curious about the lives of celebrities, but slow to correct our own faults.

That’s The Confessions of Augustine. Not an easy read, but well worth the time and effort.

Let’s pray with Augustine:

O God, the house of my soul is too small for you to enter: make it more spacious by your coming. It lies in ruins: rebuild it. Some things are here which will offend you. . . who will clean my house? To whom but you can I cry, Cleanse me of my hidden sins, O Lord, and for those incurred through others pardon your servant (Boulding, I,6, paraphrased).

Amen.

I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.

Ep.129: Psalm 56: God is For Us.

Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray with Me”.

In the current batch of psalms, the Big Issue topics are
the poet’s desperate situation,
his dangerous enemies, and
his incessant pleas for help.

In Psalm 56, the tone changes. Though enemies still threaten and life’s situations are still desperate, the poet presents
a more-settled faith,
a more-solid relationship with God,
a more-peaceful approach to his many troubles.

Let’s look at three expressions of faith in Psalm 56.

First, the poet says,
When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.
In God, whose word I praise–
In God I trust and I am not afraid.
What can mere mortals do to me? (vv. 3-4).

The poet feared enemies who pursued and warriors who attacked. But instead of being paralyzed with fear, he actively counteracts it by putting his trust in God. If God protects him, mere mortal enemies have no power against him.

Psalm 56 presents a second statement of faith, as the poet says,.
Record my misery,
put my tears in your bottle,
are they not in your book?
Then my enemies will turn back
when I call for help.
This I know that God is for me (vv. 8, 9b).

Do you see God as one who stores your tears in his bottle? As one who records your sorrows in his book? These are strangely comforting thoughts leading to the poet’s greatest affirmation of faith: “This I know that God is for me.” Throughout the psalms, the poet has struggled with the problem of faith, namely, “Is God for us, is he against us, or is he just a disinterested observer?” Here the poet presses past his fear and doubts into God’s presence, gaining strength and confidence that God is his friend and his helper.

The poet makes a third statement of faith at the end of Psalm 56:
You have delivered me from death
and my feet from stumbling
that I may walk before God
in the light of life (v. 13).

God delivered the poet from stumbling in the darkness of fear and anxiety. He now walks with God in the light of life.

Let’s pray.

Our father, with the poet, we make our statement of faith:
When we are afraid,
we will put our trust in you.
What can mere mortals do to us?

Sometimes, O Lord, our world frightens us. Wars and epidemics threaten. Civilized discourse vanishes. Our very lives are passing away. But we trust you. Watch over us, protect us from evil and disease, look out for our well-being. To you the author of goodness, we surrender our fear. We receive your peace and your protection.

Our father, you see and treasure our tears. You store them in your bottle. You record them in your book. We invite you to transform the deep sadness of our lives into memories of your goodness, the narrative of our pain into the story of your healing.

We join the poet in his great statement of faith, “We know you are for us.” We are often alone, often hated, often in danger. We thank you for being on our side. Thank you for being our strong friend, our strong God, our strong defender. Teach us to walk with you in the light of life.

Amen.

I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.

Ep.128: The Care and Feeding of Sheep.

Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray With Me”.

In the final chapter of John’s gospel, the main characters are Peter and Jesus. Peter, probably thinking he disqualified himself as a disciple by denying Jesus, fired up his old vocation again by organizing an all-night fishing expedition with other former disciples, but they didn’t catch a single thing.

Early in the morning, someone shouted a suggestion from the beach, that they try fishing on the other side of the boat. They did, and immediately their nets filled with fish. Someone counted 153.

The voice that shouted advice from the beach was Jesus, and he invited them to a breakfast of fish and bread, cooked over open coals. Peter was glad to see Jesus. He must have experienced deja vu, remembering the time three years ago when Jesus found him fishing and said, “Follow me. I will teach you to fish for people.” Peter followed Jesus and loved him, but his apprenticeship ended with the disaster of denial.

After breakfast, Jesus took Peter for a stroll along the beach. Three times he asked, “Do you love me?” and three times Peter replied, “You know I do.” Each time Jesus said to Peter, “Feed my sheep.” In his years with Jesus, the most important thing Peter learned was not the skills to be a professional disciple, but the love that grew in his heart for Jesus. Jesus was satisfied that that was enough, and he gave Peter his job back.

Jesus also gave Peter a new promise, saying Peter would die the same way Jesus did, by crucifixion. No more denial in Peter’s future, only faithfulness.

I hope it was a comfort to Peter, as he went through life serving Jesus, to know that each day brought him closer to sharing the kind of death Jesus died. I’m not sure that would be a comfort to me.

Let’s pray.

Jesus, like Peter we have felt your call on our lives. To fish for people. To feed your sheep. To love our neighbours. To serve your church.

Like Peter, we haven’t achieved this. We want to build your kingdom, but we deny you. We want to build your church, but we end up arguing with sheep instead of feeding them. We want to become fishers of people, but we scare them away.

Jesus, why didn’t you fire Peter after he denied you? Do you always restore and recommission fainthearted disciples?

Jesus, even though the evidence for our love is weak and our denials are recent and strong, we say with Peter, “We love you.” We have no heart for our old vocation. Our years of following you have imprinted us with love. We are ready to accept as Peter did the way of the cross–your cross first, and ours to follow.

Jesus, we receive from you today whatever vocation you give us and whatever death will be our portal to life with you. Help us to feed your sheep.

Amen.

I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.

Ep.127: Psalm 55: Smooth Words and a Violent Heart.

Hello, I’m Daniel Westfall on the channel “Pray with Me”.

In Psalm 55, the poet is once again overwhelmed by trouble and doubt.
– His enemies threaten him (v. 3).
– His thoughts trouble him (v. 2).
– His city is rife with violence and abuse (v. 9)
– His friend betrayed him (v. 13).
– He is overwhelmed with horror (v. 5).

Of his traitorous friend he says:
His talk is smooth as butter,
Yet war is in his heart.
His words are more soothing than oil,
Yet they are drawn swords (v. 21).

The poet makes two responses to his troubles. His first impulse is to run away. He says,
Oh that I had wings like a dove,
I would fly away and be at rest (v. 6).
I would hurry to my place of shelter,
Far from the tempest and storm (v. 8).

I identify with that prayer. “God, don’t let it be my problem. Make it all go away. Take me to an island of peace far from the maddening crowd, far from the noise of the city, far from evil and distress. Help me escape the war zone that is my life.”

The poet’s second response to trouble goes like this:
Cast your cares on the Lord
and he will sustain you
He will never let
the righteous be shaken (v. 22).

Let’s pray.

Hear us, O God. Our thoughts trouble us when we consider the state of the world and the state of our nation and the state of our own hearts. We thought the bomb would protect our western civilization, but enemies use our technology to build their own bombs. We thought medical science would cure human disease, but viruses change and adapt, outwitting our best efforts. We thought psychology and reason and mood-enhancing drugs would create mental health and stability, but our progress is slow and uncertain.

Like the poet we see poverty and crime in our cities, violence and strife, malice and abuse. Opioids made to ease pain have spawned an addiction crisis far worse than we could have imagined. Once-vibrant inner cities are violent slums. Lord, we want to escape the noise and confusion and evil. We want to fly to the wilderness, to a place of unspoiled beauty. But if we went there, would we take our evil with us?

With the poet, we turn our hearts to you, saying,
We call to God
and the Lord saves us.
Evening, morning and noon
We cry out in distress
and you hear our voice (vv. 16-17).

You see us, God. You hear us. You call yourself our father, you have adopted us as your children. Look on our world of violence and evil. Remember us when friends betray us, remember us when the public discourse is dishonest and dishonourable, remember us when our enemies plan violence against us, when
Their talk is smooth as butter,
but war is in their hearts (v. 21).

With the poet we pray,
Cast your cares on the Lord
and he will sustain you (v. 22).
But as for me, I trust in you, Lord (v. 23).

Amen.

I’m Daniel on the channel “Pray with Me”.