The barren season: When pain meets the presence of God
1 Samuel 1
by Sarah Lim, MPC’s Korea Director
At some point, every person walks through a barren season. There comes a time when our needs go unmet, when our prayers seem unanswered, and when pain becomes a persistent companion.
The pain is real
Peninnah had children, but Hannah had none (v 2,5). It is painful when what we long for remains out of reach. And that pain deepens when we compare ourselves with others who seem to have what we lack. Our comparing breeds jealousy, inferiority, and shame, and steals our sense of worth.
The comfort of a lover is not enough
Elkanah, her loving husband, says, “Am I not more to you than ten sons?” (v 8). Hannah’s need is deeper than what love, or even double portions, can fill. In a barren season, you may have a dear one to be loved by and to love. But still, God doesn’t answer, and no one knows this pain but you.
The enemy accuses
Hannah was provoked and mocked by her rival (v 6-7). This voice is may be inside you. We tend to respond in two ways. When the enemy seems weaker than you, you might pretend to be strong — “At least I’m more loved.” When the enemy seems stronger than you, you might pretend to be meek — “I’ll bear it; I’m the bigger person.” Neither posture brings healing—only isolation. Relationships break down.
When the answer is delayed
When God’s answer is slow, our successes feel invisible and our failures feel exaggerated. You become afraid of being exposed, afraid that others will see how small you are. We cover, and pretend to be good. “I am okay.”
Even the wise misunderstand
Even the most respected leaders can misread us. Eli saw Hannah praying and assumed she was drunk: “Put away your wine,” he said (v 14). Sometimes, people who want to help us end up hurting us, because they don’t see our pain. Maybe they don’t know the pain in their own heart. We all do this: We all criticize, we all defend ourselves. There is no one without guilt.
She wept and wept
Hannah wept bitterly (v.10). Pain brings us to the bottom of our lives. The real question is not, ”Did you hit rock bottom?” or “Did you cry hard enough?” The real question is, Did you meet God in your pain?
It is in the valley that we meet the Lord. In His presence, we face the poverty of our hearts. Before Him, we see the truth about ourselves—our sin, our brokenness, our unrighteousness. If we don’t see our poverty, we become prideful. If we only see our misery and forget God, we fall into despair.
We all want to manage our guilt, shame, and anxiety. We all carry heavy burdens. They don’t bring us to God—unless we surrender. We must lay down the impulse to fix ourselves and simply come before Him.
God remembers
God brings His promises back to our minds. Even when we feel unheard, He is the God who remembers. In His remembering, we are comforted.
God does not waste pain. He uses it to strip us, to awaken us, to draw us into His presence. In that sacred space, when we stop pretending and stop defending, we look up. We see the God who sees us, the God who hears us, and the God who remembers. And there, even in the barren season, He brings us to life.
Woodcut: Schnorr von Carolsfeld, 1860, Hannah praying for a child, for “Die Bibel in Bildern,” via Wikimedia Commons.
By Leanne Payne from her newsletter archives, March, 1987
There are a few things in life more comforting than Christian friends who understand what ministry on a fallen planet is all about. Through the years, Carol Kraft (Professor of German, Wheaton College) has sent cards or cartoons that ever after find a place on the wall of my workspace for ready referral when needed. She is a treasured confidant, one in whom I can confide my deepest concerns, for she is not only a true friend, but one who has learned how to listen. She really hears whatever it is I’m struggling to put into words, then has the knack of finding a picture message that either exactly expresses it, or helps me to come to terms with the difficulty. One such card is reproduced below (marked as an original by Desclozeaux to give the proper credit), and it certainly illustrates the miraculous as we Christians so often experience it:
Isn’t that wonderful! It would be difficult to find a truer picture of the sheer grace God gives us to not only overcome, but survive the impossible; or one of how this grace is experienced: as we inch, a straight and steady line through a fallen, hostile world to our true home.
I’m sure there are many of you, who, like myself, are facing the impossible in terms of what God has called you to do and to be. Perhaps calamity, in the form of circumstances so irrational and dark that they could only have been engineered by the powers of darkness, is even now barreling towards you. The blow is calculated to maim or to crush, to stop you right in your tracks. But God’s message to His own is ever the same: “My power, and the strength that I give you, is sufficient. Call upon it, ask for it, see if I will not cause all grace to abound toward you!” Saint Paul knew and taught with all his might this great truth: “God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.” (II Cor 9:8)
The word that Saint Paul uses to describe the grace of God is polupoikilos which means many-colored. William Barkley, commenting on Eph 3:8-13 says that, “The idea in this word is that the grace of God will match with any situation which life may bring us. There is nothing of light or dark, of sunshine or of shadow, for which it is not triumphantly adequate.” No matter what we are struggling with, as ministers, or as suffering persons who desperately need forgiveness and healing, God’s grace is sufficient. Jesus, with implicit faith in the Father, said it all, when He looked directly at his troubled disciples, and said: “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.” (Matt 19:26)
I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. (Galatians 2:20) The sufferer needs to understand that if he will stand in the Cross and hurt, there is a place [for the pain to go], an end to the pain. I explained [to Patsy] how it is one stands and hurts. “See the Cross… see yourself standing and hurting, acknowledging all these feelings, but this time let Christ take them into Himself. Let them flow into Him, just as you would sins you have confessed.” Just as we take our place in Christ’s dying, dying again with Him to our own sins, so we die to those diseased feelings, by allowing Him to take them into Himself. And we learn to wait still suffering if necessary, until relief and healing come. But we do it from our true center, not from an immature or false one. [1]
ROME, ITALY – MARCH 26, 2015: The fresco of Crucifixion in church Chiesa di Santa Maria ai Monti by Giovanni Battista della Marca from 16. cent.
Many are suffering losses as we walk in the Covid wilderness, the loss of good Christian fellowship, the loss of celebratory gatherings, and the loss of meeting with family and dear friends. In many, isolation may trigger long-forgotten childhood feelings of abandonment and rejection. Leanne asks us to look up and gaze at Christ in the Cross in the midst of our suffering. Let Him take the pain into His body on the Cross, and let us exchange the pain for His Heavenly glory that will fill our souls with His resurrection presence.
PRAYER
Gracious Lord, You know the pain of being abandoned by Your own Father on the Cross. You know our suffering and pain as we walk in the Covid wilderness. Let us live from our true center and enable us to look with courage to the Cross and to let our pain, our diseased feelings, flow into that Cross that bears all things, even those trials that are too great for us to bear. Help us to exchange our pain for Your wonderful life.
[1] Leanne Payne, The Healing Presence (Grand Rapids, Baker Books, 1995), p. 205.
Fresco: Giovanni Battista della Marca, 16th Century, The fresco of Crucifixion in church Chiesa di Santa Maria ai Monti [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Meditation prepared by Mary Carrington, drawing on the writings and ministry of Leanne Payne.
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. Isaiah 43:2
God’s children are sometimes the most bitterly tried. For them the fires are heated seven times; they suffer, not only at the hand of man, but the heavens seem as brass to their cries and tears. The enemy of souls has reason to challenge them with the taunt, “Where is now your God?” You and I have perhaps been in this plight. We have said, “Hath God forgotten to be gracious? Has He in anger shut up His tender mercies?” [1]
The matter of suffering is seldom dealt with today in such a way as to help us either understand or undergo it. Some of the popular drivel we hear seems almost to deny that the Christian does suffer….This is one more example of the modern’s estrangement from his own soul. [2]
The Christian does suffer, but we can lean into the heart of a loving, compassionate, and merciful God, walking through suffering with Him. Many of us are currently suffering from anxiety and fear and other negative emotions as we experience suffering from the Covid crisis but we can trust that God will help us. When we suffer, the enemy of our souls taunts us with the thought that God has forsaken us but this is far from the truth. We may think that God has forgotten to help us, but our loving, gracious God always holds us in His attention and care.
PRAYER
Lord, we acknowledge the reality of suffering. Remind us of Your love and comfort when we endure suffering. Reassure us that You are with us and walk through the fires with us. Let us fervently believe that You will never leave us or forsake us even in the greatest suffering we endure. Thank You that we are always held by Your gracious and loving arms and that we need not fear.
[1] F.B. Meyer, Our Daily Walk (Grand Rapids, Zondervan, 1982, March 21. [2] Leanne Payne, The Healing Presence (Grand Rapids, Baker Books, 1995), p. 207. Painting: Simeon Solomon, 1863, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Meditation prepared by Mary Carrington, drawing on the writings and ministry of Leanne Payne.
Blessed is the one who is not offended in me.(Matthew 11:6) Whether or not the suffering is remedial or that produced through the redemptive activity of carrying the cross, we need to understand that “blessed is he, whosoever shall not be offended in Me” (Matt. 11:6 KJV ). F. B. Meyer refers to this as “the beatitude of the unoffended, of those who do not stumble over the mystery of God’s dealings with their lives.”[1] It is the blessedness of those who, though they do not understand the trial, yet “rest in what they know of His heart.” We are tempted to stumble. . . . But it is then that we have the chance of inheriting this new beatitude. If we refuse to bend under the mighty hand of God—questioning, chafing, murmuring at His appointments—we miss the door which would admit us into rich and unalloyed happiness... [2]
Christians suffer and often we don’t understand why we suffer. If we do not yet understand why we suffer, we can still rest in God’s great love towards us.As we undergo suffering and patiently walk through our suffering, God blesses us with His abundant grace and comfort. Let us choose to “not be offended” by suffering. As Jesus entrusted Himself to His Father we can entrust ourselves to our Heavenly Father and “rest in what we know of His heart.” As we are still before the Lord and quiet our souls before Him, His comfort, blessing, and peace will come even in the greatest of tragedies.
PRAYER
Gracious Lord, forgive us for murmuringas we endure suffering. Help us to be still and quiet our souls before You. Let not suffering and sorrow harden our hearts but let us chose to open our hearts to You so that we will be filled with Your tender healing and comfort. Help us by Your grace to enter into the blessedness in our sufferings. May we not forget that Christ, the Hope of Glory, lives within us to strengthen and encourage us.
[1] F.B. Meyer, Our Daily Walk (Grand Rapids, Zondervan, 1982, March 21.
[2] Leanne Payne, The Healing Presence (Grand Rapids, Baker Books, 1995), p. 207. Painting: Carl Heinrich Bloch, 1873, Kristus i Getsemane, An angel comforting Jesus before his arrest in the Garden of Gethsemane[Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons
Meditation prepared by Mary Carrington, drawing on the writings and ministry of Leanne Payne.
“Get wisdom, get understanding; do not forget my words or turn away from them. Do not forsake wisdom, and she will protect you; love her, and she will watch over you. The beginning of wisdom is this: Get wisdom. Though it cost all you have, get understanding. Cherish her, and she will exalt you; embrace her, and she will honor you. She will give you a garland to grace your head and present you with a glorious crown.” Proverbs 4:6-9
We live in a time, unlike any other, with unlimited access to information. During my childhood, if I had a question, I was directed to our treasured stack of World Book Encyclopedias. If I wanted to find a book at the library, I had to search through index cards to find its location. Each morning, at the break of dawn, a rolled up newspaper was hurled at our front door. Today, it is a challenge to turn off all of the information coming at us through our smartphones, computer screens, cable television, 24-hour news channels, and social media. Suddenly our Facebook friends aren’t so friendly. We are bombarded with conflicting messages, even amongst Christian brothers and sisters. It is easy to get caught up in our emotions to the point that we lose the ability to listen to one another and, much worse, we lose the ability to listen to God. We become wise in our own eyes, and we lose the good of reason (Is. 5:21; Prov. 3:7). Now, more than ever, we are in desperate need of our Holy Father’s wisdom.
How can we discern between godly wisdom and the deceptive messages of the world? James 3:17 gives us a litmus test: “But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere.” These good fruits are contrasted with the self-serving, proud, and contentious messages that regularly assault us. Our hearts long for mere kindness.
Persuasive arguments accomplish very little if we do not turn knowledge into action. As Charles Spurgeon explained:
Wisdom is the right use of knowledge. To know is not to be wise. Many men know a great deal, and are all the greater fools for it. There is no fool so great a fool as a knowing fool. But to know how to use knowledge is to have wisdom. [1]
Accumulation of knowledge is quite different from godly wisdom. Mere human reasoning does not lead to the freedom that the Lord’s wisdom brings. Instead, pride motivates a frenzied struggle to make sense of things or to develop persuasive arguments. This calls to mind the deadly snare of quicksand. As we set out to find wisdom, our restless activism only causes us to sink further into despair. In order to escape quicksand, one must simply be still, allowing the body to float to the surface, and reach upward for a lifeline. Similarly, godly wisdom is given when we are still, quiet, and focused upward to God.
Sometimes we take a more passive stance. We expect others to share their wisdom and we will blindly trust their words. We are easily “blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of people in their deceitful scheming,” (Eph. 4:14). If lies were obvious falsehoods, we might not be so foolish to believe them. But lies sound good to our itching ears (2 Tim. 4:3), and we want them to be true. Unfortunately, deceived people will deceive people. It is sobering to recognize that when we allow ourselves to be deceived, we will inevitably deceive others. A passive stance is not an option for the mature Christian.
Proverbs 4:6-9 warns that growing in wisdom is costly. In fact, it may cost us everything. We must give up our pride, for wisdom requires humility (Prov. 26:12; 11:2). We must be teachable, for wisdom is received through the Lord’s correction (Prov. 12:1). We cannot have our own way, for we grow in wisdom through obedience (Matt. 7:24). We must be truthful about sin, for in order to receive wisdom, we must hate evil and fear the Lord (Psa. 111:10; Prov. 1:7). When we pay for something, we understand its value. Wisdom is costly because it is a rare and worthwhile commodity.
Since wisdom is an attribute of the mature Christian, we can rest assured that we are not alone in our pursuit of wisdom. Leanne Payne exhorts that our petition to God for wisdom is of utmost importance, and she confessed that most of her own petitions to the Lord were pleas for wisdom. [2]
Does not wisdom call out? Does not understanding raise her voice? At the highest point along the way, where the paths meet, she takes her stand; beside the gate leading into the city, at the entrance, she cries aloud: “To you, O people, I call out; I raise my voice to all mankind. Proverbs 8:1-4
Leanne notes that this passage personalizes wisdom as feminine. We are feminine in relation to God as we open our hearts and minds to receive from Him. The wisdom of the Lord, she explains, is contrasted with the seductive worldly wisdom of the harlot, which brings death. Wisdom comes in our response to God. We need more than human reasoning and must enter into the Real Presence of the Lord. It is through our meditation upon Scripture and quietly listening to God that we receive our creative capacity.
The essence of the true feminine is response to God, other, and all that is. A quality in God, we all—men and women alike—are to participate in her and receive her capacity to say, with Mary, “Be it unto me according to Thy will.” We then conceive within the womb of our spirits more of God and more of all that is true, beautiful, and good. [3]
Though our encyclopedias are obsolete, a few keystrokes can easily overwhelm our finite brains with infinite information. Let us set aside information and instead, actively pursue wisdom. The Lord is eager to give wisdom to His children if we will simply ask. As we grow in our capacity to listen to God and respond with humility and obedience, we will also grow in wisdom. We will grow in our capacity to love. Equipped with godly wisdom, we will respond to humankind with mercy, giving glory to our Heavenly Father. Leanne encourages us, “If anyone has not yet seriously petitioned the Lord for wisdom, now is certainly the time to do so.” Now is the time to get wisdom.
[1] Charles Spurgeon, The Fourfold Treasure (1871). [2] Leanne Payne, Listening Prayer: Learning to Hear God’s Voice and Keep a Prayer Journal, (Baker Books, 2002) chapter 5. [3] Ibid., p. 85 Artwork: Icon of Divine Wisdom from St George Church in Vologda (16th century), from Wikimedia Commons.
I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service. And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God. Romans 12:2 NKJV
When we hear educators or politicians pleading for the restoration of Christian values in the universities or in government, we know their calls are nearly useless because there can be no counteracting trend until the populace itself is converted… Therefore, our hope is not in calling for our systems to be Christian, but in becoming truly Christian ourselves. [1]
A pro-Christ trend in our nations can never be imposed top-down — it will only come from the inside-out, one believer, one household at a time. Our societies will only remain free by having citizens who are inwardly governed by the loving will of God. We serve society when we withdraw into our gardens of solitude, where we are being steadily transformed into the likeness of Christ. We bring help to this world when we let Him send us out to winsomely appeal to those around us to be converted too. We are members of the most potent grassroots movement this world will ever know: the gospel of Jesus Christ.
PRAYER
Lord Jesus, we praise You as the King of history and confess that you are King of our time and of our nations. Forgive us for following the lead of any worldly influence; bring the perfect clarity of Your truth into any confusion. Forgive us for any way we’ve been looking to the government or our civic institutions to rescue us rather than courageously following You. Cleanse our hearts of anxiety, hopelessness, and unbelief, for we do believe You are faithful. Pour out Your Spirit upon us. Unleash Your Kingdom within us and among us. Renew our minds, make our wills one with Yours, and empower us to invite others into this blessed life of transformation in You.
[1] Leanne Payne, Real Presence (Grand Rapids, Hamewith Books, 1995), 53 Illustration: Limbourg brothers, 1416, The Apostles Going Forth to Preach from the Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry, [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons Meditation prepared by Sarah Colyn, drawing on the writings and ministry of Leanne Payne.
Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near. Hebrews 10:23-25
After our Lord’s death and resurrection, the early Christians came together knowing that He would meet with them in a special way once again. Rather than going to church (their minds were not clouded with the notion that buildings or organizational structures were the Church), they came together as the Church to fellowship in His Presence.
And we might say they “practiced the Presence” in a number of ways or modes. “Christ has died, Christ is risen,” part of the earliest liturgy, was in some of their hearts an incredible *remembered* experience. Memories of lives shared together in the breaking of bread, in long journeys, and in the teaching of multitudes must have been vivid ones for many. Beyond memories of Christ’s presence, however, they knew by virtue of His Spirit descending on them at Pentecost that He was always present, indwelling them. In yet a third way, pertinent to what we are here considering, these early disciples knew that when they invoked Him, Christ would “come again” by His Spirit as they gathered to worship, hear the Word, and break bread (make Eucharist) together. [1]
Sharing in worship and the sacraments and journeying together as prayer partners are acts of faith in which we, like the early Christians, know our Lord will meet us. Pursuing fellowship with one another in Christ, we reject the consumer mindset and religious counterfeits for the sake of being encountered by the Risen One, the Objective Real. Persevering in His body is our joy and privilege, a blessed act of will by which we cultivate the virtue of hope.
PRAYER
Holy God, thank You for how You center Yourself in Your people. Thank you for Your dynamic, living Presence among us. Thank you for making Yourself known in the breaking of bread. Lord, I ask for an increase of faith that will empower me to live with joy and peaceful expectancy as a member of Your body. I invite You to illuminate any barriers, any unforgiveness or idolatry that is dulling my heart. Enable me to grow in maturity and freedom to celebrate Your risen Presence in Your Church.
[1] Leanne Payne, The Healing Presence (Grand Rapids, Baker Books, 1989), 48. Painting: 3rdc., mural of agape feast from the Catacombe di Priscilla [Public domain].
If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory. Colossians 3:1-4 ESV
The way of the Cross stands always against the various ways man devises to earn his own salvation, his own ticket to the Utter East. And on that way we experience the ongoing efficacy of the Cross. We are being redeemed, and no static understanding of the reception of the Novitas or the Holy Spirit should bar us from continuing to receive. [1]
The Church celebrates Easter not just on one day, but with a seven-week season that calls us to rejoice in our risen Lord and His resurrection life. He is risen today, and we take our places in His resurrection right now, and again right now, and again right now. The newness of Christ’s life (novitas) is active here in His beloved world in this present moment, ours to appropriate and share. Confessing, “Christ is risen!” delivers us from the dual temptations of humanistic self-help on the one hand and cynical despair on the other. The stories of our redemption should be so much more than stale testimonies of some long-ago decision for Christ. Let us look in expectation and wonder as His Cross has its way in our lives today.
PRAYER
Lord Jesus Christ, Redeemer of the world, I lift my eyes to You. I praise You in Your glorified body, seated at the right hand of the Father. I thank You that Your divine energy, Your resurrection power, is at work in me and through me. I confess that I need Your ongoing redemptive work within me and that I long to see redemption in the world around me. Strengthen me in the virtue of hope all through this Easter season as I proclaim that You are risen. Alleluia!
[1] Leanne Payne, Real Presence (Grand Rapids, Hamewith Books, 1995), p. 94 Painting: Rembrandt,1638, Christ and St Mary Magdalene at the Tomb. [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons Meditation prepared by Sarah Colyn, drawing on the books and ministry of Leanne Payne
And I saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb. And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and its lamp is the Lamb. By its light will the nations walk, and the kings of the earth will bring their glory into it, and its gates will never be shut by day—and there will be no night there. They will bring into it the glory and the honor of the nations. But nothing unclean will ever enter it, nor anyone who does what is detestable or false, but only those who are written in the Lamb’s book of life. Revelation 21:22-27
There is a dangerous forgetfulness on our part that this world is not our true and final home. This has been greatly exacerbated by the fact that our education systems, drawing their theories from materialist philosophy, have claimed heaven to be off-limits and have taught us to look within ourselves and to this earth for the ultimate good…
I think this explains why we have such difficulty in understanding and celebrating Lent in beneficial ways. We are no longer sure deep down that we are exiles, that this is not the promised home. Therefore, we’ve accommodated ourselves to Babylon and then are overwhelmed at the sickness, fear, hatred, and violence we see here. It is a strange fact that we Christians continue to be unduly shocked and even overcome by the sight and the extent of evil we discover in the world – as if we didn’t know it to be a fallen one. [1]
Our Lenten disciplines impel us to kneel in sobriety, confessing hard and hopeful truths so that we might clear some solid ground on which to stand. This is reality: You are an exile. You were born into a created-good but sin-stained, demon-haunted world. You were carried off by your own rebellion, and only the blood of the Son of God was able to purchase you back from slavery to sin and death. You now belong to, and live in, Him. Every selfish and cruel deed committed, every horror at which you cry, “Why?!?” is a defiance of His holiness, and He is coming soon to judge it all. He is preparing a place for you and for all who will receive Him, and we will live with Him forever, finally then knowing what it is to be at home.
PRAYER
Glorious God, what a day that will be! Thank you for the victory of Your holiness on the Cross. I ask you now for Lenten grace. Sharpen my vision of heaven and strengthen my longing to reach my true home. Forgive me for yielding to the seduction of this world. Cleanse me of every accommodation I’ve made to meaningless and despair. Grant me power to rid my life of any action or posture that denies the hope of heaven. Holy God, You are worthy to receive all honor and glory and praise, now and always. Give me grace that I may join the worshippers who will rejoice forever before Your throne.
[1] Leanne Payne, Restoring the Christian Soul Through Healing Prayer (Grand Rapids, Baker Books, 1991), 226. Painting: Theodorescu-Sion, 1915, Ovid in Exile [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons Meditation prepared by Sarah Colyn, drawing on the writings and ministry of Leanne Payne
Now if Christ is proclaimed as raised from the dead,
how can some of you say that there is no resurrection of the dead?
For if the dead are not raised, not even Christ has been raised.
And if Christ has not been raised,
your faith is futile and you are still in your sins.
Then those also who have fallen asleep in Christ have perished.
If in Christ we have hoped in this life only,
we are of all people most to be pitied.
But in fact Christ has been raised from the dead,
the firstfruits of those who have fallen asleep.
For as by a man came death,
by a man has come also the resurrection of the dead.
For as in Adam all die, so also in Christ shall all be made alive.
I Corinthians 15:12, 16-22, ESV
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Together with meditating on Christ’s resurrection and the great Christian hope of immortality, we could ask God to increase our desire for heaven and all it contains and for the anticipation of a future state in which we will have a new body patterned after Christ’s glorified body. Then, if we have substituted the favor of men and the things of this world for that which is only God’s and heaven’s to give, we have the great privilege of asking for the grace to deeply repent.
We can be turned around to once again face Him. We are no longer compelled to substitute the shadow for the real, our impressions about glory for the thing itself. [1]
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Alleluia, Christ is risen! The Church celebrates Easter for several weeks for good reason – we need this time to contemplate His risen life and all it means. Paul points out the pitiable state of a believer who hopes in this life only, a critical caution for us today. We may not struggle with conscious unbelief in resurrection of the dead, but often we Christians live with too little joy at what awaits us. And when we lack a vision of heaven, we are too easily attracted to the lesser things of this world. Praise God for His myriad ways of moving us to look up! His Spirit stirs longings in our hearts that are undeniably larger than this life. The daily, often-painful evidence that our present bodies are corruptible moves us to thank God for our coming resurrection bodies. He reveals His splendor in creation, arresting us in moments of awe. His angels are with us, continually enticing our attention heavenward. All these promptings and more inspire us to affirm that a day is coming when we will be raised incorruptible – alleluia!
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PRAYER: Gracious Father, we do ask you now to increase our desire for heaven. Whisper to our hearts about the glory that awaits us. Make us free as Your children to boldly delight in the joy of anticipation. Increase in us the supernatural gift of faith in Christ’s resurrection. Anoint us to proclaim His incorruptible life to all in need around us. We thank and praise You for imparting to us the hope of heaven.
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[1] Leanne Payne, Restoring the Christian Soul Through Healing Prayer (Grand Rapids, Baker Books, 1991), 222.
Painting: Fra Angelico, 1440, Resurrection of Christ and Women at the Tomb [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
Meditation prepared by Sarah Colyn, drawing on the writings and ministry of Leanne Payne.
A testimony from the desert: the blessed fruit of perseverance in marriage
My marriage of over 40 years has been my “place” of stabilitas. I came to Christ in a little plywood stable that my dad built for my pony, a gift on my sixth birthday. For some mystical reason I felt God calling me that day, and I was awestruck by the subtle experience of the Lord with me there. I was seven years old, and from that point on HE has dominated my life, calling me over and over again to love, obey and worship Him.
I’m glad for this chance to write to you as Christmas Day draws so near. I think of you in your homes, churches, and communities around the world and am moved by the mystery that together we form the beautiful and broken body of Christ. We are those who continue to grow and become, and we are those who watch for the light. Whether you stand in confidence and strength this December or are struggling in a place that seems dark, you are in good company. I am profoundly grateful that our Father does not ask us to make this journey alone, but places us in a family, a body to which each one of us is precious. I pray that the Spirit breathes life into my words today and uses them to share the gift of hope with you.
At Advent we look back at the moment when Christ took on flesh and the Word came to dwell among us. And we look forward to when He will come again, riding on the clouds. We live our lives on the path between Bethlehem and the New Jerusalem. Hope is the virtue that keeps us on the path and the posture that keeps us oriented toward eternity and our God who is the great I AM. Our lives as Christians are an ever-unfolding journey of simultaneously anticipating and receiving the finest gift: “Christ in you, your hope of glory.”
In this letter I will share the words of two wise Christian brothers: Josef Pieper and Sill Davis. Pieper wrote an excellent little book, On Hope, which conveys the pastoral wisdom of Thomas Aquinas about this essential virtue. And Sill presented an insightful and healing workshop about hope at last summer’s MPCS in Wheaton. Hope is a fundamental virtue of the Christian life, and it is worth the effort to seek wisdom about what hope is and how it can grow within us.
Hope is the journeyer’s virtue. Aquinas named the Christian life the status viatoris, which is the condition of “being on the way.” One day we will finish the race and possess the fullness of life that God gives. But in this world we are journeyers. “I do not consider that I have laid hold already,” as Paul writes in Philippians 3:13. We are in the process of becoming who we truly are in Christ. If someone asks, “Are you a Christian?” our truest answer would be, “Yes, I am, and I am still becoming a Christian.” I wonder if you can feel the deep comfort of this truth. Whatever is asked of us, whatever we are called to be, we only need to say, and indeed only can say for ourselves, “I’m working on it.” Or more accurately, “We–God and I in relationship with the body of Christ–are working on it.”
Hope is fundamentally about the direction we’re heading. In hope, God’s grace collaborates with the “yes” of our will to point us in the direction of who we are to become. The one who looks to Jesus is continually in the process of becoming more of his or her true self. Hope is a theological virtue: something divine that happens in us through God’s presence and work in our lives. God brought us into existence ex nihilo–out of nothing. We are His creatures and derive our existence from Him. It is our nature to move toward being, and hope keeps us centered in this longing to be who God made us to be. Without hope we will turn in sin back toward the nothingness from which we came. Hope is a theological virtue because it is about being “grounded in a real, grace-filled participation in the divine nature, which comes to man through Christ” (Pieper). It’s much deeper than the simple feeling of human confidence that something good is coming our way. This true Christian hope is something we can’t live without. As Sill described so well, our hearts cry out for hope the way a hungry baby cries to be fed: “Give me that hope! Give us what we need to birth our dreams.”
This status viatoris life of being-on-the-way has guardrails on both sides of the path: humility and magnanimity. Hope is about becoming who we truly are, and humility and magnanimity grant us accurate self-understanding. Pieper’s definition of humility is crystal clear: “Humility is the knowledge and acceptance of the inexpressible distance between Creator and creature.” God has created us, chosen us, and adopted us as His children. We are His creatures. We are infinitely loved, fully known, and faithfully cared for, and it is God’s being that gives our being such incredible dignity. Humility is something we often get confused about, thinking that it means putting ourselves at the bottom of the list or focusing on our negative traits. Humility isn’t about looking down on ourselves; it’s about knowing God as other. Humility helps me remember that I am not God, but am possessed by God, and helps me rejoice in the right relationship between the infinite God and little me.
Magnanimity guards the other side of the path. I encourage you to get comfortable with this wonderful word magnanimity. It means “the aspiration of the spirit to great things,” and Pieper explains that “a person is magnanimous if he has the courage to seek what is great and becomes worthy of it.” In the first verse of “O Holy Night,” the writer captures the feeling of magnanimity that stirred in humanity when Christ appeared, “and the soul felt its worth.” Truly God has created us with awesome possibilities, and He ennobles and empowers us to reach great heights. If you have been captivated by a moment of human greatness when standing before an exquisite work of art or watching an athlete in a peak performance, you have felt the rise of magnanimity in your soul. Through Christ’s death and resurrection, we have been united to God and are empowered creatures who live in the Spirit. With magnanimity, we make our choices toward the greater possibilities we have in Him, and we dare to be as great as He has made us to be.
Hope is about being on the way as creatures who are both finite and marvelous. Sill described hope as fuel for the trip, like gasoline in the engine of a car. Hope ignites our God-given nature to grow and become. When my son was learning to ride his bike, he discovered that he had to keep moving forward in order to keep his balance. This is what it’s like to be human–in order to be who we really are, we must keep becoming. When we lack the virtue of hope, we turn back toward nothingness. In his ministry in Chicago, Sill works with men involved in prostitution. The most difficult aspect of his work is not getting the men off the streets or free of addiction; it is reaching a man who has fallen into hopelessness. I think it’s important for us to be wise about what life looks like when we lose hope, because this knowledge gives us power to come back onto the good path. Just like any path, it’s possible to wander off on either side. For those of us whose early lives were marred by abuse or failures of love that blocked the fundamental nurture of our little souls, we may be more vulnerable to losing hope. Pieper has named the badlands that flank the path of hope despair and presumption.
Let’s look at despair first, not to dwell on it, but to become wise about this dangerous threat to hope. If we can identify despair for the distortion of reality that it is, we can orient ourselves back to God’s kingdom reality. Fundamentally, despair is when a mind changes the “not yet” of this life into a barren “not.” Hope calls us to journey toward a life abundant, knowing we have not yet fully arrived. The despairing heart hears Christ’s invitation to be resurrected, healed, and to follow Him and answers, “I will not. Don’t ask anything of me–just leave me as I am.” Despair is a decision of the will to renounce our inner longing for wholeness and close the door to becoming.
As Sill shared in his workshop, despair can take us to very dark places emotionally. He described well the downhill slide of a despairing soul–despair can shadow our face, the way we walk, and the way we dress, and compel us to use drugs or relationships to try to grab hold of some feeling of happiness. But despair has another, sneakier guise as well. Western cultures are brimming with despair in the form of a forced, prideful insistence: “I’m fine just the way I am.” Lady Gaga’s hit song chants, “I’m on the right track, baby; I was born this way;” this explicitly religious anthem is a fitting theme song for despair.
The truth is that our souls restlessly ache for greater wholeness. In our “born this way” state, we feel a deep dis-ease that whispers something is wrong. But the despair of the world tells us that we must try to silence this whisper, ignore this longing. Despair takes the fundamental invitation to become and treats it like a curse or a small-minded intolerance. The world calls hope dangerous. Again I say that it’s important to recognize despair for what it is, because we don’t yet have full immunity to these hope-killing voices of the world, the flesh, and the devil.
God’s true message to us is so different from the message of the world. God touches our lives with awesome dignity by coming to us, just as we are, and claiming us for His own. But He doesn’t stop there. He continues His saving work in our lives by calling us to become more and pours out His grace and mercy to make this becoming possible. The world has gone so far as to make despair prescriptive, but Christ has overcome the world–alleluia!
If we veer off the path of hope to the one side, we find ourselves in despair. But there is another possibility that leaves us without hope, and that is presumption. In despair, we claim that we will not change and close the door to becoming. In presumption, we claim that our process of becoming is complete and that we have already laid hold of the prize of fullness of being. We deny the journeying nature of the Christian life, not by refusing to move, but by telling ourselves that we have already arrived. In sharing about hope, Sill described a challenging moment in his healing journey: “I wanted to go into ‘hyper healing.’ I wanted to say, ‘Lord, hurry up and get it over and done.'” He was tempted, as we so often are, to try to make his healing happen, and he recognized that this impulse would actually take him out of God’s will and steal his hope. In this wish to skip to the end, we are leaving the true path of listening, following, and trusting God. This attitude kills hope because we’re grabbing onto a feeling of security that isn’t real in this world. We’ve left humility behind–that knowledge of the difference between God and us–and we’ve also strayed from our willingness to live in complete dependence on Him.
Earlier I described how cultures and communities promote despair. I’d also suggest that our communities can promote presumption, even our church communities. Good Christian people that I minister to from their twenties through their eighties have asked me, “Shouldn’t I have this figured out by now?” My answer is an emphatic, “No!” I pray that God blesses every one of us with relationships in our churches where we can honestly share about our process of becoming and the “not yet” aspects of our lives. Truly our whole life is rich with meaning, and hope holds us on a journey in which we are always becoming more of who God made us to be.
I imagine that each of you reading this letter deeply desires a life dominated by hope. Folks in this worldwide community of people whose lives have been touched by Leanne Payne’s ministry bear ongoing witness to the journeying nature of the Christian life–higher up and further in! Hope is a theological virtue, which means that it is God’s gift to us, the result of God’s presence in our lives. We can’t earn this gift; yet we do need to cooperate by exerting effort of our own (see I Peter 1:3-7). So how can we encourage one another to grow in hope? I’d like to suggest two important hope-builders: fear and commitment.
Pieper describes this first hope-builder, fear, as something that “lives intimately” with hope. His advice may ring strange to our ears, but he makes a compelling case that fear of the Lord keeps us moving on the hopeful path. He reminds us that to be fearless in this sin-torn world would be unnatural. We don’t have to look far to be reminded that we are vulnerable creatures. Most of all, we are vulnerable because of our ability to sin. This ability to turn away from God and from the true self He made us to be puts us in danger. Fear of the Lord is what will compel us toward Him, much as we might hurry through a dark night toward a bright bonfire. I encourage you to pray through your anxieties, sharing them with your Father and allowing Him to reveal what’s in your heart. Somewhere at the base of any anxiety, we are likely aware of our potential to turn away from God. Separation from God is a wonderful thing to fear! Fear of the Lord turns us to Him, and as long as we’re turned to Him, we are facing in the right direction to continue the process of becoming. Psalm 115:11 puts it this way: “They that fear the Lord hath hoped in the Lord” (Douay-Rheims Bible).
The second hope-builder is commitment. Commitment is a quality that early Christians called stability of place (stabilitas loci). Rebecca DeYoung’s book Glittering Vices describes how the desert fathers discovered commitment as an antidote to despair; commitment blocks our impulse to leave the path and holds us in the place of becoming. Stability is essential to hope because it allows us to persevere in the process of becoming as we stick with the relationships, habits, and practices that help us become who we are in Christ. Commitment is the opposite of relying on quick results and protects us from depending on gratifying feelings as we decide what we will do each day. And commitment is key to holding us in our faith-community relationships where we can be encouraged, challenged, and ministered to. When the journey of becoming has taken us outside of our comfort zone or left us weary, stability and commitment will help us persevere until we reach the prize.
The power of commitment shapes not just our personal habits but also our relationships. Stable participation in our faith communities allows us to grow in hope together. Sill shared about a member of his church who has held him in this place of commitment, a true friend in Christ who has fueled his hope: “He’s a big guy. He’s probably about six feet, four inches, has hands big enough to palm a basketball. At a time when I wanted to run out of the prayer meeting, this big hand grabbed my shoulder, and he pulled me close to him and just prayed and loved me.” We can share the gift of hope with one another through these simple but powerful actions of commitment to reach out to one another, share truthfully about our journeys, and pray together.
MPC is a ministry that embodies hope. Each one of us who serves in this ministry is engaged in the process of becoming, and we are inexpressibly grateful for the privilege of journeying with all of you. It is a joy to write to you in this Advent season, to share the wonderful news of hope. We can look ahead with joy and persevere each day on this holy path with the deep-hearted confidence we have in our Savior and King. One of my favorite parts in the Little House series by Laura Ingalls Wilder is when the family has come through a crisis, and Pa says, “All’s well that ends well.” These are true words of hope that don’t dwell upon the danger or darkness, but affirm that where we find ourselves in the end determines what kind of journey it’s been. Our God is named Alpha and Omega, for He is our origin and the one in whom our becoming is fulfilled. All who remain in Christ will know, see, receive, and become something more wonderful than we could ask or imagine. Hope proclaims: It ends well for me. It ends well for you. It ends well for us!
The Christian does suffer, but we can lean into the heart of a loving, compassionate, and merciful God, walking through suffering with Him. Many of us are currently suffering from anxiety and fear and other negative emotions as we experience suffering from the Covid crisis but we can trust that God will help us. When we suffer, the enemy of our souls taunts us with the thought that God has forsaken us but this is far from the truth. We may think that God has forgotten to help us, but our loving, gracious God always holds us in His attention and care.
Blessed is the one who is not offended in me.
book at the library, I had to search through index cards to find its location. Each morning, at the break of dawn, a rolled up newspaper was hurled at our front door. Today, it is a challenge to turn off all of the information coming at us through our smartphones, computer screens, cable television, 24-hour news channels, and social media. Suddenly our Facebook friends aren’t so friendly. We are bombarded with conflicting messages, even amongst Christian brothers and sisters. It is easy to get caught up in our emotions to the point that we lose the ability to listen to one another and, much worse, we lose the ability to listen to God. We become wise in our own eyes, and we lose the good of reason (Is. 5:21; Prov. 3:7). Now, more than ever, we are in desperate need of our Holy Father’s wisdom.
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experience. Memories of lives shared together in the breaking of bread, in long journeys, and in the teaching of multitudes must have been vivid ones for many. Beyond memories of Christ’s presence, however, they knew by virtue of His Spirit descending on them at Pentecost that He was always present, indwelling them. In yet a third way, pertinent to what we are here considering, these early disciples knew that when they invoked Him, Christ would “come again” by His Spirit as they gathered to worship, hear the Word, and break bread (make Eucharist) together. [1]
has been greatly exacerbated by the fact that our education systems, drawing their theories from materialist philosophy, have claimed heaven to be off-limits and have taught us to look within ourselves and to this earth for the ultimate good…
