Jesus Isn't Decaf (By Naomi Meyers)

Puffs of dust rose from the dirt road, coating the hems of their robes with every sandaled footstep. Quick footsteps. With seven miles to go between Jerusalem and Emmaus, there was no reason to dawdle. The trek had started silently, each man introspectively assessing his beliefs, examining his heart, exhorting himself to keep hold of his faith. The past week had been unbelievable. Struggling to make sense of it all alone, they began discussing the string of recent events. Events that broke their hearts. Events that boggled their minds. Events certain to buffet even the strongest of faith. 

Long-time followers of Jesus, they certainly hadn’t seen this coming. No matter how many Pharisees hated His teaching, no matter how many temple leaders despised His knowledge, no matter how jealous so many were of His miraculous abilities, they never dreamed things would end up like this! Not once did they think those hateful souls would actually kill Him. Mistakenly believing all men could be logical, they had naively thought those spiteful hearts would thoughtfully weigh Jesus’ miraculous works and appropriate teachings against their unfounded dislike and choose to return to neutral corners. 

It would be impossible to measure how severely they had underestimated the depth of evil that springs from a human heart where jealousy has been nurtured into hate and bitterness. By the time they realized their miscalculation, it was too late. Jesus had been arrested. He’d been unfairly tried, found guilty without a shred of evidence, and sentenced to death. The crowd who so happily accepted His miracles now violently screamed for His demise. “Crucify Him!” The ugly chant would echo in their ears long after the crowd had been placated. 

Helplessly, they stood by and watched as the soldiers crucified Jesus. Their hearts leaden in their chests, their stomachs churning, their eyes burning with unshed tears. They had been so sure He was the One. The One that would redeem Israel. The One that would save His people from their sins. The One that would come and fulfill all the things the prophets had written. The One for whom they spent their lives waiting and watching, desperately hoping He’d appear in their lifetime. (Luke 22:39-23:56)

But what were they supposed to think now? Jesus was crucified, dead, and buried. Along with Him had gone their unabashed hope, their mustard seed faith. Sure, they had heard the women’s report of an empty tomb and angels declaring He was alive. They knew the vacancy of the tomb had been verified. But Jesus hadn’t walked out to great fanfare, earthquakes, and voices from Heaven. He hadn’t hung around sitting on the moved tombstone waiting for them to discover He was back. They hadn’t seen Him at all and their human hearts were having trouble believing what they couldn’t see. (Romans 5:5; Matthew 17:20; Romans 8:25; Hebrews 11:1)

They’d seen plenty of things hard enough to believe when watching them happen. Blind men becoming sighted. Withered limbs restored. Palsy healed. Evil spirits exterminated. Fish multiplied. Believing Jesus was alive shouldn’t have been that difficult. After all they had seen, their faith should have been like Kilimanjaro. It wasn’t. When everything was said and done, when the basis of their faith was reported missing, their faith itself was discovered shaken. (Mark 10:46-52; Luke 6:6-11; Mark 2:1-5; Mark 7:24-30; John 6:1-14)

As their discussion lengthened, they were joined by a man traveling the same direction. They hadn’t seen Him approach. They didn’t recognize His face. They assumed He was not from around there. How could He be? He seemed completely ignorant of the horrific events in Jerusalem over the past week. Apparently, they felt it their duty to enlighten Him. Exchanging a look that clearly asked, “How could this guy come from Jerusalem and not know what happened last week?” They began to tell the tale. 

Picture it. Jesus. Intellectual prophet. Miracle worker. Mighty healer. Inspiring teacher. Highly respected. Deeply loved and desperately hated. Accosted by chief priests and rulers. Tried in a biased court. Sentenced to death for nothing. Brutally crucified. Clearly dead. Safely buried. Proclaimed alive. Presumed missing.

Oddly, their new traveling companion wasn’t nearly as distressed by the list of unfortunate events as they were. He saw sense and order where they saw chaos and wild abandon. His frustration appeared to be in the fact they had missed it. They had missed the correlation of recent events with the prophecies written centuries before. They hadn’t been wrong after all! They had been with Jesus! 

Reaching their destination, yet unwilling to end their discussion, they urged their new friend to come and stay with them for the night. He did. As they sat at the dinner table, the Man took the bread, blessed it, and began serving them. In that moment the scales fell off their eyes, the fog lifted from their minds and they saw Him. Really saw Him. The message the angels had given the women at the tomb was true! They knew it was! They had been with Jesus!

For a few seconds, they simply stared at one another. Then reality struck. Jumping up from the table, they snatched up a bread roll for the journey and ran out the door. Their feet thudded the packed dirt as they raced back the way they came. The mileage didn’t matter, the message did. Their hearts, set aflame by the words of the resurrected Jesus Christ, were burning to tell the others! They had to tell them it was true! Everything the prophets had preached. Everything the angels had spoken. Everything their meager faith had believed. It was all true! Jesus was alive. (Luke 24:1-35)

And so it should be with us. Our hearts, aflame with the greatest story ever told, should be burning to tell others. Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners. Not just during His physical lifetime, but for as long as the earth hangs in space. For every soul who dares to come before Him in repentance. For everyone, everywhere. No exceptions. Forgiveness is possible. Heaven is promised. It seems impossible, but because of Jesus’ death and resurrection, it isn’t! You can have peace on earth and Heaven too! Even if you struggle to believe, pull up on the bootstraps of your puny faith and hang on, because it’s all true! 

Every word is true. Every promise ever written in the Bible is true. Old Testament. New Testament. It doesn’t matter. God has never reneged on His promises. He is faithful. Even when we can’t see it or feel it or force it. God is working and planning. If He said it, He will most certainly do it. The knowledge should make your heart burn with love for God and urgency to share the Good News with others. It should have you lurking on every corner of your life waiting for an opportunity to share the message, waiting to tell the world it’s all true. 

I don’t know how long it takes to walk seven miles. I’m sure it depends on the terrain, the climate, and one’s physical fitness. It would likely take a couple of hours at a brisk pace. Unfortunately for our souls, we’ve quit walking places. We don’t have time. Our overscheduled lifestyle would have us driving those seven miles, squeezing in a teleconference on the way.  We’d arrive in Emmaus never having spoken with the heavenly Stranger on the way. Our hearts wouldn’t burn at the beauty of His words. Our souls wouldn’t ache with the necessity of sharing. We’d miss a message from Jesus, not because He didn’t speak, but because we were too busy to listen. 

Perhaps we should go back to walking. Perhaps we should turn off the radio, silence the phone, close the computer and tablet, pause the audiobook. And listen. Listen to God. Listen to the voice that says your faith was not misplaced. The voice that tells you it’s all true. Your sin is forgiven. Your debt is paid. Your unfading, imperishable, undefiled eternal inheritance is promised. And no matter how often your faith staggers, shudders, or stumbles under the weight of current events or dubious broadcasts, you can always come back to the unimpeachable truth that the God who breathed the words of Genesis also spoke the words of Revelation and He has never misrepresented His word. It’s all true! (I Peter 1:3-4; I John 1:7; Colossians 1:13-14,22; Joshua 21:45; II Corinthians 1:20; Romans 4:21)

So go tell them! Tell the postal worker, the electrician, the landscaper. Tell the homeless man, the prostitute, the addict. Tell the bank teller, the grocery clerk, the trash collector. Tell your friends. Tell your family. Tell yourself! Shout the message! Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners! Me. You. Them. It’s all true! Our redemption has come. Jesus Christ gave up Heaven, took on flesh, lived, died, and rose again so we could be free from the grip of sin. He came to redeem our souls from sin. He came to redeem our lives from destruction. He came to redeem our eternity from hell. Yes, friends, it’s all true! (I Timothy 1:15; Psalm 103:3-4; Hebrews 2:14; Romans 6:11-14,22)

Because it is true, we have the absolute privilege of walking with Jesus and the burning obligation of sharing these truths. May your time spent with Jesus leave your heart burning with a message you are loath to keep silent. May your soul burn with the urgency to share Jesus. May you go out into the highways and byways, greenways and alleyways, and spread the message. It’s all true! (Luke 12:8-9; I Peter 3:15; Colossians 4:5-6; II Timothy 1:7-8)

The clatter of wooden theater chairs springing back into place echoed across the chapel as students scurried to gather their books and head to class. It had been an exceptional service. The message, an exhortation from the words of the Apostle Paul to the Ephesians, encouraged each of us to walk and talk and live exactly the way they had learned from Christ. Lay down old habits and sins. Put aside the old self. Be renewed in mind and spirit. Put on the righteousness and holiness of Christ. Attributes that would radiate from our souls and exhibit to all that we had been bought and washed clean by the blood of Christ.  It would have been impossible to exit uninspired. (Ephesians 4:17-32)

Collecting my own books, I had nearly exited my row when I heard someone call my name. Turning, I saw the chaplain of the jail ministry attempting to flag me down. He was a wonderful man. Kind. Enthusiastically energetic. Eager to help. Happy to listen. Willing to pray. Always. I know. I spent most weekends serving beside him at the jail, visiting, holding Sunday services, and teaching a new evening Bible study. In a rush, as usual, he issued his request from a couple of rows away with a half-smile that anticipated my surprise, “Get those sermon notes. You are preaching this message at Bible study.”

My surprise did not eclipse my inward groan. Really? How could I ever deliver a message from someone else’s notes? Especially a theology teacher’s notes! I didn’t have the same wisdom from which to draw. I couldn’t tell the same amusing anecdotes. As personally inspired as I was from the hearing of the message, I was wholly uncertain I could in any reputable way duplicate it. Heaving a sigh and suppressing my reticence, I vowed to give it my best shot, trudged up to the front, hailed the speaker, and made arrangements to receive a copy of his notes so I could attempt to deliver them half as eloquently as he had. It was highly unlikely. Double sigh.

Four weeks later, the only ones sighing were the men in that Bible study as they repeated, yet again, the changes their lives would exhibit if they had truly learned Christ. If their hearts had really been changed. If they had truly been bought by the blood of Christ, not simply loaned themselves to Him until the outcome of their trial or for the endurance of their sentence. Their former lives would be replaced by a renewed spirit and mind. They would be changed men. Their new selves, fashioned in the likeness of God, would exhibit emotions and actions and reactions announcing to the world they had not loaned themselves out to jailhouse religion but were truly changed. Truly purchased. Truly God’s people. And they needed to live like it. (Colossians 3:1-17)

It wasn’t some new lesson I’d uncovered in the recesses of the preaching professor’s notes. The concept dates back thousands of years to a smoke-shrouded Mount Sinai and a recently delivered people. Gathered as close to the mountain as they dared, fear-filled them at the fierceness of God’s power on vivid display. Vibrating thunder. Sizzling lightning. Dense cloud cover. The ear-splitting sound of a trumpet from heaven. Their amazement must have known no boundaries as Moses and Aaron walked through the haze of smoke to ascend the mountain and meet with God. (Exodus 19:16-25)

Upon his return, Moses brought the laws of God. Not just ten easily recitable commandments. Those were just the beginning. There were more to come. Ordinances. Rules. Punishments for violations. Directions for proper behavior, true justice, and observing the Sabbath. My English Bible uses 126 verses to remind the children of Israel that they had been delivered, rescued, purchased by God to be His special people. And they needed to act like it. (Exodus 20-23)

At some point, they must have sighed, wondering when the sermon was going to be over. When would the “thou shalt’s” end? Perhaps their minds wandered a bit in the waiting. It seems likely, given the fact that no matter how fervently they swore to uphold all the things the Lord had spoken to them, they reneged ad nauseum. Over and again idolatry and lust for the easy ways of the world drew them away from God, had them living for themselves as if their lives were borrowed, not bought. Time and again, God went after them, rescued them, because He knew the truth. They were His people. His possession. Bought, not borrowed. (Psalm 78:40; Deuteronomy 31:27; Nehemiah 9:16-31; Isaiah 65:2-3; Deuteronomy 7:6)   

So are you. If you have knelt at the cross and accepted the forgiveness of your sins through the shedding of Christ’s blood, you were bought too. Purchased from the alleyways of sin’s destitution, debauchery, and disillusionment. No matter how much time you spent there, no matter what you became when you lived there, regardless of the degree of degradation you acquired there. You are not that person anymore! You belong to God. His precious possession. You are not your own. You were bought with a price. (I Corinthians 6:9-11, 17-20; I Peter 2:9) 

An exorbitant price etched with excruciating pain, sacrificially paid for your extrication from the addicting clutches of evil. Ultimate betrayal. Undeserved arrest.. Scornful mocking. Stinging ridicule. Flying spit. Flashing fists. Slapping hands. It was just the beginning. There would be more. Vicious beating. Humiliation. The pain of thorns pressed into His brow. The warmth of blood cascaded down His face. More spit. More beating. More mocking. 

The solemn trudge to Golgotha was uninterrupted. No one stepped in to halt it. No one offered to take His place. No one stood up on His behalf. Stretched out on a rough wooden cross with splinters gouging His back, He willingly held out His hands and feet, allowing the sin-darkened hearts He came to save hammer nails through skin and flesh and sinew. As the sound of hammer on stake echoed across the silent air, as pain radiated through every part of His bruised and bleeding body, as the cross was lifted upright and slammed into the ground, He didn’t halt the proceedings. He didn’t call down Heaven’s rescue squad. No. He endured the ridicule, the pain, the cross so you could be redeemed. Purchased. Bought, regardless how horrific the cost.  (Matthew 26-27) 

Regardless of our debilitating sin. Regardless of our incredible shabbiness. Regardless of our bent toward imperfection. Just as Hosea bought Gomer. Rescued from a life of harlotry, one would think her gratitude would overwhelm her desire for her previous lifestyle. It didn’t. She wasn’t faithful. Tiring of her new life and responsibilities, she ran back to her proclivities, her addictions, her sins. The marriage seems over, but grace wasn’t finished writing. God sent Hosea to purchase her! Standing on that auction block, dirty and wasted, Gomer must have secretly wondered if anyone would even bid. Who would want her? Who would pay actual money for the worthless mess she had become? Then it happened. A bid. From a voice she recognized. Hosea was once again rescuing her. She didn’t deserve it. Couldn’t earn it. Would never hope to purchase a rescue on her own. Yet Hosea came in and bought her back, her abject filthiness notwithstanding. There was just one requirement. She had been bought with a price, given a new life, she needed to act like it! (Hosea 1-3)

The message wasn’t given just to Gomer, the sin-bent children of Israel, the men in the county jail, or the young adults gracing that chapel years ago. It applies to you too. You need to live like you’ve been washed in the blood of Christ. You need to walk like a changed person. You need to emulate Jesus. No matter where your past has taken you. No matter where your present has you residing. No matter what your future looks like. You need to live the way Jesus taught you to live. Not just when it is convenient. Not simply when you feel like it. Not to impress your pastor or fellow parishioners. You need to live for Jesus all day, every day. Why? Because you once were lost, but now are found. You once were filthy, but now are washed clean. You once were dead in your trespasses and sins, but now are alive in Christ. Your sins are forgiven. Your debt is paid in full. That stack of guilty convictions piled up against you has been overturned by the nail that fastened it to His cross. You were bought with a price. You belong to God. You are a precious possession of His own choosing. There’s just one requirement. You need to act like it! (Luke 15:24; Colossians 2:13-14; I Corinthians 7:23; I Peter 1:18-19; John 15:16; Ephesians 1:4, 2:4-5; Luke 12:6-7)

At a time when we are so greatly encouraged to serve ourselves, may you always remember…You are not your own. You were bought with a price. Go live like it!

Startled awake in the wee hours of the morning, he lay there pondering the alarming images so vividly displayed in his subconscious mind. Standing proudly in the center of the earth stood a magnificent tree. Its height was unmatched. Its sweeping branches bedecked with vibrant foliage and beautifully ripened fruit extended an invitation for all to come and stand in awe of its greatness. Animals sought its shade. Birds flew to the comfort of its plush, leafy branches. Food for all creatures, large and small, could be found in this one place. The scene was breathtaking. 

The next scene stole his breath. Literally. Fear gripped him. Sleep eluded him as the images played over and over in his wakeful mind. A heavenly messenger appeared. His order was appalling. The great tree was to be cut down. Its branches were to be lopped off. Its gorgeous leaves and enticing fruit would be scattered and squashed. The animals and birds would be forced to flee. The resplendent scene would be destroyed. All of it. Except the stump. 

Odd things were to be done to the stump after the initial cutting. It would be bound with iron and bronze and left to live a humble existence along with the rest of nature. Grass would grow up around its base. Dew would coat it. It would feed off the earth around it. That tree, clearly signifying a man, would think like an animal, eat like an animal, live like an animal. For seven long years. Nebuchadnezzar had every reason to be alarmed. 

Urgently calling all his wise men, Nebuchadnezzar frantically sought answers. What could these things mean? Who or what was that tree? Himself? His kingdom? Was the kingdom coming under attack? From without? From within? Was his reign coming to an end, his death imminent? What, exactly, did the tree represent? And what did the stump say about his future?

They didn’t know. Not one of the king’s magicians, astrologers, or other allegedly wise men had any idea, not even an inkling, what the dream could possibly mean. In desperation, Nebuchadnezzar did what he should have done in the first place. He called for Daniel. Surely, through the power of his God, he could do again what he had done before. 

It was not a task for the faint of heart. The interpretation was unpleasant, messy. Even Daniel, regardless of his relationship with the Most High God, felt keen alarm at the explanation, a reticence to speak the message to the king. Urged by the king to speak no matter the message, Daniel begins. It was as Nebuchadnezzar had feared. He was that tree. The chopping, lopping, scattering, and squashing would indeed happen to him. He would lose his human sensibilities, be driven from society, and live in the fields with other grazing animals. For seven periods of time. 

One would think the knowledge he was destined to bovine proclivities for seven years would be enough to make the king change his habits, re-evaluate his goals, alter his choices. Maybe it did. For a bit. If so, the change didn’t last. Twelve months later, Nebuchadnezzar walked the roof of his palace, overlooking his vast kingdom, congratulating himself on all he had done. His arrogance couldn’t be contained. Why should it? Look at all he had accomplished! The city was magnificent! His residence was resplendent. His power unarguable. His belief he’d done it all on his own would be his undoing.

Standing there, basking in his own glory, boasting of his own strength, Nebuchadnezzar unwittingly signed the lease on a prime piece of pastureland. The voice of God sounded from heaven, assuring him the contract was good. He made his move from silks and wine to grass and dew that very hour. Why? Because Nebuchadnezzar forgot that his prestige, power, and prosperity were never his in the first place. They were simply borrowed from the One who created all things, sustains all things, rules all kingdoms, and holds all power on heaven and earth in the palm of His hand. (Daniel 4:1-33;  Colossians 1:16-17; Acts 17:28; I Chronicles 29:12)

After Nebuchadnezzar moved out to pasture, when his hair was long and wild and matted, his nails grown out like talons, in a moment of clarity, he realized the error of his ways. Nothing had ever been his in the first place. None of the authority, accomplishments, or acquisitions were his. Nothing he had earned, won, built, or bought was anything other than a borrowed gift from the generous hand of a magnanimous God. The God whose kingdom is eternal, whose authority is unsurpassable. The Most High God, whose omnipotence deserves all the praise, honor, and glory for His bounteous gifts. It had been a difficult lesson to learn. (Daniel 4:25, 33-37; Psalm 145:13; Romans 13:1; Revelation 4:11)

It is no less difficult for us. We hang on so tightly to the transient things of this world. Prestige. Power. Prosperity. In smug satisfaction, we sit in our comfortable homes gazing out over manicured lawns and congratulate ourselves on the acquisition. In arrogant self-glorification, we sit in corner offices perusing carefully framed accolades, certificates and degrees hung in perfect precision and applaud our intelligence and business acumen. In spiritual ignorance, we take the glory for ourselves. Claim the power as our own. Live as though our lives, our possessions, our world, are purchases we made instead of things we borrowed. 

We couldn’t be more wrong. It’s all God’s. He created heaven and earth and all that is in them by the words of His mouth alone. He separated darkness and light, sea and sand with only the sound of His voice. Volcanoes erupt, thunder resounds, earthquakes rattle, winds rage, simply by the power of the magnificent God who chooses who will sit in positions of power, who will be given authority, and whose pride will bring them low. (Daniel 4:25, 37; Psalm 50:10-12; Psalm 74:13-17; Psalm 82:8; Deuteronomy 10:14)

The sustaining breath you just inhaled, the thumping beat your heart just tapped, the thoughtless blink with which your eyelids cleansed your eyes, every single one a gift from God’s hand. You did nothing to deserve them. You couldn’t earn them. You don’t own them. They are borrowed from the God who daily loads you down with benefits you claim as your own purchased by your own power for which you take the glory. (Genesis 2:7; Psalm 68:19; Acts 17:28; Isaiah 46:4)

As you pull into the driveway of your suburban palace with its manicured lawn and lavish pool, remember–it’s all God’s. As you stare at your bank balance and greedily consider your next vacation, investment, or automobile purchase, don’t let your selfish mind forget–it’s all God’s! As you revel in the pull of muscles in exercise and the good health you enjoy, don’t allow your arrogance to make you forget–it’s all God’s! Nothing you are or have or use or enjoy is owned by you. It all belongs to God. (Job 1:21; Hebrews 3:4; I Chronicles 29:12; Job 41:11)    

Ponder the thought. Consider it. Ruminate upon it in the wee hours of the morning when dreams waken you and fears stalk your mind. It all belongs to God. Everything. From the air you breathe to the car you drive. You own not one thing. Bask in it. There’s freedom there. Freedom to hold tightly to heavenly things and loosely to earthly ones. Freedom to let go of fear and anxiety and trust God. Freedom to let peace rule in your heart and leave everything with God. It’s all His, anyway. Simply borrowed, not bought. (Ezekiel 18:4; Isaiah 50:2; Job 1:21; I Corinthians 6:19; Colossians 3:15-17)

It was a beautiful Sunday morning.  The sunshine reflecting through the stained glass windows of our old brick church added to the peace and serenity the hymns had induced. The musical portion of the service had just finished. Leaving the piano bench, I slipped into the comfortably padded pew beside my husband and settled in to hear the words God had inspired our pastor to speak. 

A wonderful, gentle man of God, he had gotten no further than to read his text and say a prayer when a commotion in the center aisle caught my attention. A latecomer, immaculately dressed in glistening white, fumbled his way past those seated at the opposite end of my pew and plopped down right beside me. Close. Too close. Uncomfortably close. As I turned to extend a welcoming, yet hesitant smile to the newcomer, my eyes widened in shock and horror at what I saw. Dressed as an angel of light, the devil had come to church! (II Corinthians 11:14)

I really don’t know why I was so shocked to see him there. Perhaps it was the lack of other parishioners noticing his intrusion. Perhaps it was his elevated comfort level in a place he was heavily outnumbered. Or maybe it was simply the fact I had no idea, not even an inkling, that the evil one was an avid church attendee. In retrospect, I surmise his attendance record exceeds my own extensive one. His behavior indicates otherwise.

Wiggling down to a comfortable position, he settled in for the endurance. I sighed. It was going to be a long service. He had no intention of listening to the God-given words of wisdom coming from the lectern. He had no intention of letting me listen either. No. He’d come with a plan. A purpose. A goal. Sow discord and discontent. Plant seeds of disgust, disappointment, discouragement. He’d come to destroy the body of Christ. (John 10:10; II Corinthians 11:3)

It took him less than a minute to get started. Intermittently pointing around the church, he rained down questions meant to distract and disrupt. Nothing was exempt from his diatribe. Style choices. Unfounded gossip. Alleged marital discord. Obvious absence of disgruntled members. I did my best to ignore him, attempting to focus on the message I came to hear. When the service finally came to a close and the pastor announced the final hymn, I sprang from my seat, relieved as never before to hear a benediction. 

Perhaps my sense of relief was similar in strength to that of Aaron and Hur when the sun set on the battle with Amalek. It had been a long day. Oh, it had started well. Before the sun rose they had accompanied Moses, carrying the staff of God, up to the top of the hill. They had watched as Joshua led the Israelite army into battle. As the sun broke over the hill and a day began to break, fighting ensued. 

By ordinance of Almighty God, the One who fights for His people, it happened that when Moses lifted up his hands holding the staff, Israel would prevail. Only if the staff stayed raised. It was an arduous duty. Moses did the best he could. But he grew tired. His arms fell asleep. It became impossible for him to keep them raised continually. It began to look like Israel would succumb because of Moses’ humanity.  

Aaron and Hur weren’t about to let that happen. They hadn’t narrowly escaped Egyptian captivity only to be plundered and slaughtered before ever seeing the promised land! They hadn’t wakened before dawn, trudged up a hill, and stood watching a harrowing battle just to see their people ransacked and devastated. They weren’t going to stand by and let evil triumph! Looking around, they found a rock. A big one. Big enough to hold a grown man comfortably. Rolling it in place behind Moses, they urged him to sit and rest. Then, taking up stations on either side of him, they held up his hands when he didn’t have the strength to go on. (Exodus 17:8-16)

What if they hadn’t? What if Aaron and Hur had been gossiping about the men below? What if they’d been critiquing their fighting methods? What if they had been arguing over the proper way to fight a war, whose son would marry which daughter, or who acquired the most treasures from Egypt? What if they blamed Moses when his hands became heavy and things went awry? What would have happened to God’s people then if they hadn’t come alongside to aid, support, and strengthen?

What would happen to God’s people now if you did? What if you came alongside the struggling soul with encouragement? What if you reached out in gentleness to concern one caught in the web of sin? What if you became a burden-bearer? What if the only words flowing from your lips were full of compassion, kindness, humility, and patience? What if forgiveness was a first response, not a last resort? What if the community of believers, the people who so loudly profess to know and love Jesus Christ, acted just like Jesus? How would the landscape change if we took good, excellent, perfect care of one another? (I Thessalonians 5:11; Galatians 6:1-2; Colossians 3:12-14; James 4:10-11: I Peter 4:8-9)

I don’t know for certain what would have happened if Aaron and Hur hadn’t come alongside Moses with non-judgmental support. Most of my imaginations end with bone-chilling results. The Exodus account doesn’t seem to disagree. Without Moses’ lifted hands holding up the staff of God, Israel would have lost that battle. On the heels of their glorious deliverance from bondage and miraculous Red Sea crossing, it would have been a tremendous, gut-wrenching loss. 

Our loss will be no less. The evil one is busily, endlessly working to spread discord, division, and discontent among believers. He is spreading rumors and lies, gossip and slander in an effort to cull the flock. He is breeding envy and jealousy, hatred and pride, attempting to create schisms in our ranks. Sometimes it feels like it is working. Churches split. Friends become enemies. Neighbors quit speaking. Families fall apart. It almost seems hopeless. Except it isn’t. 

   The Apostle Paul, in his letter to the Roman Christians, exhorts them to live a lifestyle designed to thwart the advances of the evil one. Let your love be true. Hate evil. Cling to good. Be devoted to your fellow believers in brotherly love. Show one another utmost respect and great esteem. Fervently serve God. Rejoice. Persevere. Give. Pray hard. Bless and forgive those who come against you. Share both in celebrations and sorrows. Live peaceably in one accord, never being overcome by evil, but overcoming evil with good. (Romans 12:9-21)

At a time when the world is coming against us on every front and evil seems to have set up camp on our very doorsteps, wouldn’t we be blessed to have a community of believers to come alongside and support us, care for us, encourage us when things get too heavy to handle? Wouldn’t it be a blessing, an honor, to be one of those believers who supported, cared for, and encouraged another? Wouldn’t it be amazing to stop the evil one in his tracks?

 So why don’t you? Why don’t you go be that blessing? Go be the hands and feet of Jesus to the people hard-pressed by the evil one to give up, give in, give over. Give them your prayers, certainly, but give them something else too. Be present. Listen. Help. Hold their hands. Be gentle with their hearts. Be full of Jesus. Be a warrior used by God to crush the efforts of the evil one to bring division, dissension, and destruction to God’s people. Beat the devil at his own game. Go out and take good care of the body of Christ. (Philippians 2:3-4, 4:5; I Peter 4:8-9; II Thessalonians 1:3; Hebrews 10:23-24; II Timothy 2:20-21; Romans 16:20; John 13:34-35)

The sharp bite of betrayal shot through Moses’ soul as he watched the men of Israel walk away. Their words of rebuke echoed like the reverberations of a gong inside his head. Perhaps it had been a mistake to await immediate results of the meeting with Pharaoh. It had gone abysmally wrong. The increased work requirements would not be lifted. The foremen would continue to be beaten. The situation was destined to further deteriorate. Facts for which the children of Israel now blamed Moses and Aaron. 

It was not what Moses’ hoped to hear. After being sent by God to lead the people out of Egypt, Moses had other ideas for the outcome of this meeting. Joyous relief at Pharaoh’s capitulation, for starters. He thought surely there would be dancing in jubilation as they were given permission to gather their things and travel into the wilderness. He had expected immediate deliverance, not increased detriment. He was preparing to safely lead the people out. Not once had he suspected things might go awry. 

 From the moment he stood beside the blazing inferno of never consumed bush and listened to God call him to aid in the rescue of His people, Moses believed liberation would happen. He believed God was going to release His people from slavery. He might not understand how, but he knew it would happen! God was going to bring them out of bondage and lead them into a land of their own. A fertile land. A blessed land. A land of plenty. Moses never doubted the ability of God to do such. Until now.

Standing outside that meeting place, watching the retreating backs of the foremen and feeling the sting of their angry words, Moses’ heart quaked with questions. What had gone wrong? Why was God allowing additional harm to befall an already beleaguered people? Did the fault truly lie with Moses as the Israelite men suggested? Was it his slow speech? Had his inarticulate verbiage somehow created an unbreachable chasm forever increasing hardship for his people? Or had God brought them this far only to renege on His promise?

It was a sickening thought. But the evidence appeared to be right in front of him. Having heard their cries of suffering and wailing pleas for deliverance, God had looked down and seen their bondage, recognized their untenable situation, and decided to do something. He had promised to deliver them. He’d collected Moses and given strict instruction. He’d made an allowance for Aaron, the more eloquent speaker, to accompany Moses. He’d put His words in their mouths and given them an audience with Pharaoh. It all seemed so positive, looked so much like deliverance. Until it started to look like God wasn’t going to finish what He started. 

The current situation resembled deliverance not at all. Words meant to induce kindness and leniency had instead evoked anger and affliction. The bondage increased. The workload soared. The punishments became more menacing. Although Moses had come to them in fearless faith and boldly spoken God’s words of deliverance over them, their deteriorating circumstances seemed to indicate otherwise. As their cries went unanswered, their tears unseen, the people turned their anger and frustration on the messenger. And the messenger, disappointed that it hadn’t happened the way he thought it would and doubting it would ever happen because he couldn’t see the way forward, hurled his anxious accusations at the God he feared had failed for the first time in history.  

Rushing to his place of meeting with God, Moses impetuously cried out, “What are You doing? Why are you allowing the increased harm of Your people? Why did You even send me if you weren’t going to do anything? I did what You told me to do. I gave Your promise to Your people. I spoke Your words to Pharaoh. He did not capitulate. Quite the opposite. The affliction of Your people has intensified. Things are getting worse, not better. From where I’m sitting, it seems You have not delivered on Your promise to deliver Your people!” (Exodus 3-5)

In spite of the fact I have read the story scores of times, I still suck in my breath as I read Moses’ words to the Almighty. That he has the nerve to talk to God that way has me raising a brow in self-righteous judgment. Who, exactly, does he think he is? And just whom does he believe he is addressing in such disrespect? Does he not realize the same God who set that bush to flame from nothing could simply speak and he would cease to exist?

As I begin to unload my full head of steam on unsuspecting Moses, I am reminded of some things I’ve said to God in frustration and fear. I start to rethink accusations I’ve hurled at the heavens when things haven’t gone according to my plan or matched my timing. I remember all the times I’ve thought God failed to keep His promises because I didn’t get what I wanted. The memories shut my mouth and I shamefacedly take a seat beside Moses. We both have lessons to learn. 

Lessons about who God is. Creator. Sustainer. Everlasting God. All-powerful. All-knowing. Limitless. Lessons about how God works. His perfect timing. His perfect plan. His perfect way. None of these are new revelations. We’ve known them for a long time. They are really reminders. Reminding us that we can trust Him to keep His word. Even when we can’t see what He is doing, when we can’t explain it, when we can’t call out the steps. Reminding us that His ways are not like ours, His timing is not kept by our clock, His results are always greater than the ones our finite minds conceive. I frequently need these reminders. Clearly, Moses needed them, too. God was happy to oblige. (Isaiah 40:21-31; Ecclesiastes 3:11; Isaiah 55:8-9; Deuteronomy 32:4)

Reiterating words He’d already used, reminding Moses of things he already knew, God set the record straight. “I am the Lord. The God of your fathers to whom I promised a blessed land. No matter what you think is going on or how badly you think I have botched this, I have not forgotten that promise. I have not left my people unattended. I have heard their cries. I have seen their bondage. I have remembered my covenant. And, Moses, know this and let the people know it too, in my time, in my way, I am going to bring them out of Egypt, delivered and redeemed, to be my people and I will be their God.” (Exodus 6-14)

If you have ever attended a Sunday School class, a vacation Bible school program, or simply read the book of Exodus, you know God did exactly that. With His mighty arm and outstretched hand, He miraculously rescued His people from bondage and affliction. He kept His promise and then some. Why? Because that is what God does. 

God works miraculously on behalf of His people. While we are busy screaming at the heavens, raging on about His shortcomings, God is busy, too. Erecting a way where there isn’t one. Executing a rescue when it seems impossible. Enacting the miraculous when hope has been extinguished. Encouraging a fledgling soul. Enlightening a clouded mind. Enriching the heart of a seeker. God is always working whether you see it or not. He is always busy whether to your standards or not. God is always delivering and redeeming His people because He is our God and that is what He does! 

He is the God who has never left His people unattended, never left His promises unfulfilled, never turned a blind eye to our suffering or a deaf ear to our cries. He is always listening. He is touched by our infirmities, moved by our tears. His heart is broken by our sin and elated by our salvation. He is always working on our behalf. When we can’t feel it or see it, He’s working. When we can’t trace His movements or see around the curve ahead, He’s working. When we can do nothing but pray and hope and struggle to keep our meager faith alive, God is still working. Still planning our deliverance. Still enacting our rescue. Still providing for our redemption. That’s what our God does! (Hebrews 4:15; Psalm 145:13; Psalm 66:19; Isaiah 43:19; II Corinthians 4:18)

I don’t know where you are right now. I don’t know what holds you in bondage. I don’t know what torments your mind and soul in the dark hours of the night. I do know this. God is working on your behalf. All those prayers you’ve prayed have not bounced off brass heavens unanswered. God is not immune to your desperation, your situation, your petition. Just as He heard the cries of the bruised and beaten people of Israel enslaved in Egypt, He hears the cries of your distressed soul. He sees your burdens and afflictions and cares. He knows how precariously your faith falters on the cusp of fear. And right now–this very moment–He is working out His plan for your rescue. (I Peter 3:12; I John 5:14-15; Hebrews 4:16; John 14:1; Exodus 14: 11-12; Psalm 42:6; John 5:17)

So don’t stop believing. Don’t stop praying. Don’t stop hoping. Keep the faith. Faith in the God who has never failed to keep His promise. Faith in the power of God that is greater than any other force of this world or another. Faith in the God who sees you where you are, hears you when you call, is moved by your circumstances, and is working–even when you can’t see it. (Psalm 130:5-7; Romans 5:5; I Thessalonians 1:3; Hebrews 11:6; John 13:7)