Category: Bible (Page 262 of 360)

Job, in his anguish and pain, felt deeply separated from God. He saw no hope for himself, for anyone really, in the hands of a distant and unhearing God. Perhaps you’ve felt the same? I know I have. Job shares these thoughts:

He (God) is not a mere mortal like me that I might answer him, that we might confront each other in court. If only there were someone to mediate between us, someone to bring us together, someone to remove God’s rod from me, so that his terror would frighten me no more. Then I would speak up without fear of him, but as it now stands with me, I cannot.

Sound familiar? Job, in some of the earliest words written in our Bible, asked for a mediator between God and man. He called for Jesus, without knowing anything about Jesus or hearing a prophecy of a messiah.

Job didn’t know of Jesus, but Job knew he needed someone like Jesus.

Someone to bring us together. I can’t think of better words, a more beautiful phrase, to describe what Jesus accomplished. Jesus brings us together with God. Jesus removes God’s rod from us and God’s terror need frighten us no more. Now we may speak with the Lord, through our mediator, who sits at God’s right hand and makes intercession for us.

It helps me to imagine Job, sitting in the dark, experiencing unbelievable loss, scraping skin eruptions all over his body with a broken shard of pottery, and wishing to die. Hopeless. Yet still believing, and desperately calling for someone to bridge the gap between him and God.

Job’s not the only one who’s sat in that place. You and I have as well. We all face pain and heartache and disappointment and tragedy. The only difference? The mediator waits for you and me to come, to speak and approach the Lord.

This incredible privilege, denied to Job, waits available to me and you and all who come together with Jesus.

Job 9 in week fifty of reading the Bible cover to cover

Photo by Daniel Lerman

I paused when I read Job’s complaint, my days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle. I wondered, just how fast is a weaver’s shuttle? Is it quicker than a New York minute? Faster than greased lighting? Is it hell bent for leather? Quicker than a duck on a June bug? Faster than a scalded cat?

You can see my dilemma. So I googled weaver’s shuttles (my sister-in-law knows how to work a loom, so I thinking she’s the one person I know who understands this adage). As I watched this video, I gained an understanding of the picture Job shares. A weaver gets fast with her shuttle.

While I enjoyed my brief foray into weaving, Job’s larger point remains—life flies by. Job’s world took a terrible turn, and he’s speaking of life as short and life as hard. My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle, and they come to an end without hope.

Job expresses a universal condition, one we all understand. Life is challenging, difficult, and painful at times. It gives me hope to realize that the book of Job is perhaps the oldest in the Bible, and people have been dealing with these questions from the beginning. Job is you and me, set in far off days.

This bit of wisdom helps me remember to enjoy today, and the family and friends and co-workers and even strangers the Lord puts into my life. Because life is gone quicker than a wink—or a weaver’s shuttle.

Job 7 in week fifty of reading the Bible cover to cover

Photo by Nick Wood

Recently I took part in a video meeting with a large group of people, most new to me. As we introduced ourselves I cocked my ear when one man shared his name and job. His voice, low and smooth, sounded so perfect. I thought, wow, he should read audio books. Turns out, this gentleman hosts a radio show and a podcast. He puts his broadcast voice to good use.

David wrote about the ultimate voice: The voice of the Lord is over the waters; the God of glory thunders…The voice of the Lord is powerful; the voice of the Lord is majestic…The voice of the Lord strikes with flashes of lightning. The voice of the Lord shakes the desert.

With only his voice, the Lord bounces mountains and shakes deserts like a rug. Power resides in every articulation.

In Genesis the Lord created the heavens and earth using only his voice. God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.

Elijah heard the voice of the Lord in the quiet, in silence, in a still, small voice.

God’s voice creates, God’s voice destroys, God’s voice delicately brushes my ear.

I wonder if I’m paying enough attention to notice?

Psalm 29 in week fifty of reading the Bible cover to cover

Photo by Ali Yasar isgoren

All the boys in my junior high school took shop. I loved it. I enjoyed the daily break from books, working with my hands, and learning new skills. Not to mention a great shop teacher who balanced teaching and teasing to perfection.

One month we poured melted aluminum into sand molds to create plaques to hang on the wall. The artwork wasn’t so interesting (although my mom still has one, I think my brother’s, as his turned out better), but the process of melting aluminum proved fascinating.

Our teacher built a forge, and we all gathered aluminum from various sources. Intense heat melted the metal into a soupy mixture. The impurities rose to the top, then skimmed off and discarded. Pure, molten aluminum remained to pour into our molds. The teacher handled that process (junior high boys and all), while we stood by fascinated. The fire purified the metal for a new use.

The prophet Malachi describes the Lord chastening Israel, as refiner’s fire, a refiner and purifier of silver. The coming of the Lord promised to burn away areas of sin and unfaithfulness. Malachi pointed out the way the priests treated the Lord’s covenants with contempt—those attitudes now faced the forge. As a religious worker myself, I pay attention to such warnings. They cut close to the bone.

We used to sing a chorus at student gatherings, with one line going something like this, refiner’s fire, my heart’s one desire…is to be holy…

But when I read the warnings of Malachi, and think of that scorching pot of melted aluminum in shop class, and remember the pile of slag bubbled off and thrown away, I’m not so sure. Might there be an easier way, Lord? How about a refining hug?

We’re told the Lord disciplines those he loves. As long as the Lord stays involved, I can hope in the finished product that is my life, even if I don’t like the heat it takes to get me there.

Malachi 3 in week fifty of reading the Bible cover to cover

Photo by Joni Gutierrez