Dave Dishman

My wife and I just returned from a month-long trip. We led a group on the Camino de Santiago in Spain, then stayed in Europe for a vacation celebrating our 40th wedding anniversary. Both wonderful experiences. We relaxed when we finally walked through our door, dropped our bags, and slept in our own bed. But the gremlins of travel followed us home.

My wife developed a nasty virus and took to bed. As her cough and fever progressed, I woke in the middle of the night to jet-lag. Weary for a few days, we caught up on details put aside during our journey, doing laundry and slogging through what needed to be done. I love travel, but not the reentry. I felt like an old bag of bones.

Which is not the worst thing. The Lord took the prophet Ezekiel to a valley filled with bones and commanded him to speak: As I prophesied, there was a sound, and behold, a rattling, and the bones came together, bone to its bone. And I looked, and behold, there were sinews on them, and flesh had come upon them, and skin had covered them…Then he said to me…”Say to the breath, Thus says the Lord God: Come from the four winds, O breath, and breathe on these slain, that they may live.” So I prophesied as he commanded me, and the breath came into them, and they lived and stood on their feet, an exceedingly great army.

From old bones bleaching in the desert to an army of flesh and blood, then imbued with the very breath of the Creator in order to come to life. From death to life—that’s how the Lord works.

If God reanimated a valley of bones into a living army, can he not also breath fresh life into you and me? And to all who call upon his name? Even though I feel like an old bag of bones, God himself indwells me. No better way to fight off the gremlins than to ask the Giver of Life for a little more.

Ezekiel 37:7-10

Photo by Kelly Sikkema

My wife and I recently visited the ancient city of Ephesus. Buried for years due to earthquakes and mudslides, excavations started in the last century revealed a stunning metropolis. Once the third largest city in the Roman empire, Ephesus held vast markets for trade goods, numerous temples and fountains, villas with inlaid mosaic floors, and streets paved with marble. The Temple of Artemis, one of the seven wonders of the ancient world, stood at the harbor and underscored the city’s power to anyone arriving by sea.

The Apostle Paul spent three years in this thriving locale, teaching about Jesus and raising up a church. Large numbers of people converted, so many that a controversy erupted. All these new Christians stopped visiting the temple of Artemis and buying her silver statues. Those who depended on this trade argued that without action their money would dry up and the temple of the great goddess Artemis may be counted as nothing, and that she may even be deposed from her magnificence.

The crowd fired up and began roaring, Great is Artemis of the Ephesians!

Paul tried to wade into the melee, but his friends held him back. A wise city official eventually calmed the mob and sent them on their way. But the point was made. This new religion threatened the old.

Today no one worships Artemis. One can purchase a statue of her in a gift shop, but they don’t appear to be high revenue items. Deposed from her magnificence, only one single column of her temple remains, uncovered during the excavations.

In contrast, Paul’s message spread from Ephesus. Today billions follow Jesus, while only a few nerds like myself know of Artemis. Challengers to Jesus continually fall away, be they competing gods or philosophies or ways of life. Adversaries may roar, but opposing the ways of the Lord is doomed for failure. How great is Artemis of the Ephesians? These days, not so much.

Acts 19

Photo: The one remaining column of the Temple of Artemis

Peace rarely graces our world. A glance at the headlines reveals wars and rumors of wars. Politics emerges as a blood sport. Eminent doom haunts stories about the environment and population collapse. This week also featured a report about Christians in Ethiopia murdered for simply following Jesus. How do you discover peace amidst such clamor and calamity?

Jesus offered this thought to his disciples as he prepared them for his coming death: Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.

The peace and hope of Jesus given with a pledge of security. Not like our society that dangles peace only to snatch it away, or promises peace after aquiring enough money or clothes or clicks. Some philosophies offer peace by going deep within oneself. Perhaps there’s a kernel of truth there, but deep within myself is only me and my issues. I’m not sure what else I’ll find of value rummaging around in that basement.

The peace Jesus leaves comes from another source. The Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you.

The Holy Spirit, indwelling all who follow Jesus, promises to teach the ways of Jesus. As we seek the Spirit with confession and humility, peace slowly emerges. Like dew on a misty morning, its presence comes as a wonderful source of amazement. With this hope in mind I find myself praying, Lord fill me with your peace, even as I make my way in this most un-peaceful world.

John 14:26-27

Photo by stenedit

I’m an early riser. As the days get shorter that means that I’m making coffee in the dark. Which is not a problem, as I enjoy the quiet before the rush of the day. Plus, I see the sun emerge on the horizon and I’m reminded of this promise:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

First light points to the unending love of the Lord, his boundless compassion and unparalleled fidelity. God is great, and every sunrise reminds me of that reality.

Lamentations 3:22-23

Photo by Elena Rabkina