Meditations

“You expected much, but see, it turned out to be little. What you brought home, I blew away. Why?” declares the LORD Almighty. “Because of my house, which remains a ruin, while each of you is busy with your own house.” Haggai 1:9

“The people had little to show in proportion to the investment of time, energy, and capital… this may refer to the bulk of the grain harvest kept by the worshipper after the first-fruits sacrifices had been made… the context favors the notion of disappointment among the people in the harvest yields that they brought to their own homes. The ambiguity may be intentional, indicating God’s disdain for their sacrificial worship given the ruined condition of the temple precinct, as well as the disappointing reality of how quickly the scanty harvest disappeared when the people brought their portion of crops home.”

Andrew E. Hill in Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi: An Introduction and Commentary (TOTC; Downers Grove: IVP, 2012) 68.

God saw what His people did with the first-fruits. He also sees what we do.

In this text, God expresses disdain and His people experience disappointment because they kept for themselves what God desired for them to return to Him. While times change, circumstances remain the same.

In the days of Haggai (and today), God’s people tend to keep for themselves what belongs to God, and in the process, they (or we) do not experience the anticipated return. What’s the lesson for those who desire to grow in generosity?

Make God’s priorities your first priorities with all He supplies! He sees and will honor your faithful distribution of His resources and provide unfathomable returns rather than disappointment.

This is what the Lord Almighty says: “Give careful thought to your ways. Go up into the mountains and bring down timber and build my house, so that I may take pleasure in it and be honored,” says the Lord. Haggai 1:7-8

“Once again the prophet calls attention to the fact that it is the Lord who is speaking through the prophetic message. And once again he urges the people to consider their ways. The implication is that proper reflection on their past course of action should lead to a change of behavior for the future.

Now the people are urged to go up to the mountain to secure the necessary timber for construction… It is timber that is emphasized, since the stone also needed for the project was readily available in the immediate environs of Jerusalem… As a result of their efforts, the Lord assures them, He will take pleasure in the rebuilt structure and will be glorified in it.”

Richard A. Taylor in Haggai, Malachi: An Exegetical and Theological Exposition of Holy Scripture (NAC 21; Nashville: Broadman & Holman, 2004) 128-129.

Give and Take. God’s people are to give careful thought amending their ways, and in turn, God promises to take pleasure in their work. This again is not the kind of giving most of us think about.

We tend to think that giving more is better. God wants us to give careful thought to living differently and to take action to show He is our top priority. In this case they were to go get timber.

What might you need to go get to do whatever God is calling you to do? And how might you put to work what you go get to advance His purposes? The good news is that He promises to take pleasure in your actions.

With Haggai, let us “give careful thought to our ways” and know that when we do, the Lord will move us to action and we can rest assured that He will be pleased. What are we waiting for?

Then the word of the Lord came through the prophet Haggai: “Is it a time for you yourselves to be living in your paneled houses, while this house remains a ruin?” Now this is what the Lord Almighty says: “Give careful thought to your ways. You have planted much, but harvested little. You eat, but never have enough. You drink, but never have your fill. You put on clothes, but are not warm. You earn wages, only to put them in a purse with holes in it.” This is what the Lord Almighty says: “Give careful thought to your ways.” Haggai 1:3-7

“Haggai is subtly calling the people to share the priorities of David and Solomon. If David felt guilty about living in a “house” before God’s “house” was completed and if Solomon provided a “paneled” house for God before himself, how can they live in paneled homes before the temple was rebuilt? With this rhetorical question still ringing in their ears, the people are now called to consider deeply another issue. The phrase “give careful thought to your ways” is unique to Haggai (1:5, 7, 2:15, 18) and calls for deep reflection over past behavior and experience. This identical phrase is repeated in 1:7 and creates and envelope around the exposure of past experiences.

Verse 6 outlines what the prophet calls the people to consider deeply. The cadence of this verse in the Hebrew text produces a powerful effect beginning with the main verb “you have planted much” and then followed by staccato bursts of infinitives that are captured by the translation, “eaten, but there is no satiety; drunk, but there is no quenching; dressed, but there is no warmth.” the initial scenario refers to the foundation of the economy, which then has an impact on all else in life materially: hunger, thirst, clothing, and wages.”

Mark J. Boda in Haggai, Zechariah (NIVAC; Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2004) 90.

I have decided to turn our attention to Haggai for a while. His name means festive or festival. Think Holy day. He wants God’s people to get to work at rebuilding God’s house and opens his oracle with this charge.

My word for the year is “share” and Boda keenly notes that Haggai wants the people to “share the priorities” of David and Solomon. They appear only to care about their own homes while God’s house is a shambles.

Thought this took place around 520 B.C. or over 2,500 years ago, the proclivity or patterns of people remain the same. We tend not to squander money on stuff rather than allocated it toward God’s priorities.

So rather than you tell me what to do or me tell you what to do, let’s sit and soak for five minutes in the charge that bookends the message: “Give careful thought to your ways.”

What needs to change in how you allocate your time, energy, and how you spend money? These decisions impact all of life for you and for those around you: “Give careful thought to your ways.”

Those who choose to share the priorities of David and Solomon and give careful thought to their ways will undoubtedly grow in Christian generosity.

Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us. Romans 5:3-5

“I have moved through anguish to freedom, through depression to peace, through despair to hope. It certainly was a time of purification for me. My heart, ever questioning my goodness, value, and worth, has become anchored in a deeper love and thus less dependent on the praise and blame of those around me. It also has grown into a greater ability to give love without always expecting love in return.

None of this happened suddenly. In truth, the weeks and months following my self-imposed exile were so difficult that I wondered at first if anything had changed at all. I tiptoed around my community, always afraid of getting caught again in the old emotional traps.

But gradually, hardly perceptibly, I discovered that I was no longer the person who had left the community in despair. I discovered this not so much in myself but in those who, instead of being embarrassed by what I had gone through, gave me their confidence and trust.

Most of all, I found new confidence in myself through the gradual renewal of the friendship that had triggered my anguish. Never had I dared to believe that this broken relationship could be healed. But as I kept claiming for myself the truth of my freedom as a child of God, endowed with an abundance of love, my obsessive needs melted away and a true mutuality became possible.

This does not mean that there are no longer tensions or conflicts, or that moments of desolation, fear, anger, jealousy, or resentment are completely absent. There is hardly a day without some dark clouds drifting by. But today I recognize them for what they are without putting my head in them!

I have also learned to catch the darkness early, not to allow sadness to grow into depression or let a sense of being rejected develop into a feeling of abandonment. Even in the renewed and deepened friendship, I feel the freedom to point to the little clouds and ask for help in letting them pass by.

What once seemed such a curse has become a blessing. All the agony that threatened to destroy my life now seems like the fertile ground for greater trust, stronger hope, and deeper love.

I am not a young man anymore. Still, I may have quite a few years left to live. Can I live them gracefully and joyfully, continuing to profit from what I learned in my exile? I certainly desire to do so. During my months of anguish, I often wondered if God is real or just a product of my imagination.

I now know that while I felt completely abandoned, God didn’t leave me alone. Many friends and family members have died during the past eight years, and my own death is not so far away. But I have heard the inner voice of love, deeper and stronger than ever. I want to keep trusting in that voice and be led by it beyond the boundaries of my short life, to where God is all in all.”

Henri Nouwen in The Inner Voice of Love: A Journey Through Anguish to Freedom (New York: Image, 1998) 116-118.

This long post marks the conclusion of this book. I also serves as the last in a series of posts that I will do from Henri Nouwen’s writings, at least for now.

Suffering produces hope. We must lean into it. We must give love without expecting anything in return. This adds depth to our generosity in unfathomable ways.

I hope you have been as touchd by this Henri Nouwen exploration as much as I have. I am not sure where I will go starting tomorrow but I am deeper and stronger.

Perhaps you have experienced sadness or loss, hardship or crisis? If so, take heart. Find the blessing in it, and listen for the inner voice of love.

It’s the Spirit which gives us hope and transforms us in the process. It God’s generous gift that accompanies hard times, the last place we’d expect to find it.

All I have is yours, and all you have is mine. And glory has come to me through them. John 17:10

“The root choice is to trust at all times that God is with you and will give you what you most need. Your self-rejecting emotions might say, “It isn’t going to work. I’m still suffering the same anguish I did six months ago. I will probably fall back into the old depressive patterns of acting and reacting. I haven’t really changed.” And on and on. It is hard not to listen to these voices. Still, you know that these are not God’s voice. God says to you, “I love you, I am with you, I want to see you come closer to me and experience the joy and peace of my presence. I want to give you a new heart and a new spirit. I want you to speak with my mouth, see with my eyes, hear with my ears, touch with my hands. All that is mine is yours. Just trust me and let me be your God.”

Henri Nouwen in The Inner Voice of Love: A Journey Through Anguish to Freedom (New York: Image, 1998) 113.

Did any of those self-rejecting emotions sound familiar? Perhaps you’ve heard such voices?

Sit and soak in what God says about you.

“I love you, I am with you, I want to see you come closer to me and experience the joy and peace of my presence. I want to give you a new heart and a new spirit. I want you to speak with my mouth, see with my eyes, hear with my ears, touch with my hands. All that is mine is yours. Just trust me and let me be your God.”

Because our God is generous, He will give us what you need most. All we have to do is trust.

God help us trust so we can mirror His generosity and give others what they need most.

For his anger lasts only a brief moment, and his good favor restores one’s life. One may experience sorrow during the night, but joy arrives in the morning. Psalm 30:5

“Joys are hidden in sorrows! I know this from my own times of depression. I know it from my living with people with mental handicaps. I know it from looking into the eyes of patients, and from being with the poorest of the poor. We keep forgetting this truth and become overwhelmed by our own darkness. We easily lose sight of our joys and speak of our sorrows as the only reality there is.

We need to remind each other that the cup of sorrow is also the cup of joy, that precisely what causes us sadness can become the fertile ground for gladness. Indeed, we need to be angels for each other, to give each other strength and consolation. Because only when we fully realize that the cup of life is not only a cup of sorrow but also a cup of joy will we be able to drink it.”

Henri Nouwen in Can You Drink The Cup? (Notre Dame: Ave Maria, 2006) 56.

These words seem to echo in my mind: “give each other strength and consolation”…”give each other strength and consolation.”

If you are like me, it seems like there is depression, poverty, darkness, sadness, and sorrow all around me. It’s hard to know how to respond.

My tendency is either to try to fix things or to try to avoid this cup. I am learning that the cup of sorrow and the cup of joy are the same cup.

I need to drink from it. And, as I go, I am finding that people need the gifts of strength and consolation more than anything, more than ever right now.

God, help us move generously toward those who suffer. Teach us to drink from the cup of sorrow knowing that joy will come in the morning. Amen.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. The righteous person may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all. Psalm 34:18-19

“Somehow my life at Daybreak has given me eyes to discover joy where many others see only sorrow. Talking with a homeless man on a Toronto street doesn’t feel so frightening anymore. Soon money is not the main issue. It becomes: “Where are you from? Who are your friends? What is happening in your life?” Eyes meet, hands touch, and there is–yes, often completely unexpected–a smile, a burst of laughter, and a true moment of joy. The sorrow is still there, but something has changed by my no longer standing in front of others by sitting with them and sharing a moment of togetherness.

And the immense suffering of the world? How can there be joy among the dying, the hungry, the prostitutes, the refugees, and the prisoners? How does anyone dare to speak about joy in the face of the unspeakable human sorrows surrounding us? And yet, there is! For anyone who has the courage to enter human sorrows deeply, there is a revelation of joy, hidden like a precious stone in the wall of a dark cave.”

Henri Nouwen in Can You Drink The Cup? (Notre Dame: Ave Maria, 2006) 49-50.

What Jesus had with people like the woman at the well or what Henri had with this homeless man on a Toronto Street is aptly described as a “moment of togetherness.” We serve a God that draws near to us.

When, like our Lord, we draw near to others, especially the brokenhearted and crushed, something happens in us. We discover unspeakable, unexpected, and pure joy.

I wrestle with the knowledge I carry that of so many people who are suffering in this world. I was just talking about this with my brothers at the Pinehurst Bible Study yesterday.

Then I read this hours later. It inspired me to move toward the broken. Engage with them in moments of togetherness, and therein I will find the joy to replace the sorrow.

I am confident I will find Christ there in unimaginable ways. And this relates to generosity because it’s my gift to the person and the joy I receive is God’s gift to me.

But very truly I tell you, it is for your good that I am going away. Unless I go away, the Advocate will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you. John 16:7

“Let me start with your own observation, which you have often made since mother’s death, namely, that she lived her life for others. The more you reflected on her life, looked at her portraits, read her letters, and listened to what others said about her, the more you realized how her whole life was lived in the service of other people. I too am increasingly impressed by her attentiveness to the needs of others. This attitude was so much a part of her that it hardly seems remarkable. Only now can we see its full power and beauty. She rarely asked attention for herself. Her interest and attention went out to the needs and concerns of others. She was open to those who came to her. Many found it easy to talk with her about them- selves and remarked how much at ease they had felt in her presence…

What I want to say now, however, is that she who lived for others also died for others. Her death should not be seen as a sudden end to all her care, as a great halt to her receptivity to others. There are people who experience the death of someone they love as a betrayal. They feel rejected, left alone, and even fooled. They seem to say to their husband, wife, or friend, “How could you do this to me? Why did you leave me behind in this way? I never bargained for this!” Sometimes people even feel angry toward those who die, and express this by a paralyzing grief, by a regression to a state of total dependence, by all sorts of illnesses and complaints, and even by dying themselves.

If, however, mother’s life was indeed a life lived for us, we must be willing to accept her death as a death for us, a death that is not meant to paralyze us, make us totally dependent, or provide an excuse for all sorts of complaints, but a death that should make us stronger, freer, and more mature. To say it even more drastically: we must have the courage to believe that her death was good for us and that she died so that we might live. This is quite a radical viewpoint and it might offend the sensitivities of some people. Why? Because, in fact, I am saying, “It is good for us that she left us, and to the extent that we do not accept this we have not yet fully understood the meaning of her life.” This might sound harsh and even offensive, but I believe deeply that it is true. Indeed, I believe even more deeply that we will come to experience this ourselves.”

Henri Nouwen in A Letter of Consolation (New York: HarperOne, 2009) 54-57. Let me know if you want this PDF. It’s a must-read for those who mourn or are struggling with difficult circumstances in life. It’s also a must-share for anyone you sense needing consolation.

I have a friend whose health is declining. Death may be near. Today I felt filled with peace after reading this that if and when he passes, though I dread the day, it will be a good day. Good because he lived for me and because, crazy as it sounds, he died for me.

Think about that for a minute. It’s the ultimate act of generosity.

We have people in our lives that teach us things. Then they give us more responsibility. Soon they delegate authority. And just when we want them to stay around forever, they hand us the proverbial baton. And when they depart in death we discover the gift of their life. Absence teachings us this.

They gave their lives to serve us. Then they died so we might live.

I am not being morbid here but entirely serious. And ponder the place of the dying person. What gift will you give those you serve? Will you become increasingly selfish and store up wealth for yourself like the rich fool or radically generous like the poor widow?

Remember whose giving Jesus called “foolish” and whose giving He celebrated as good.

Very truly I tell you, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go. John 21:18

“We have both seen how some of our friends could not accept unforeseen changes in their lives and were unable to deal with an unknown future. When things went differently than they had expected or took a drastic turn, they did not know how to adjust to the new situation. Sometimes they became bitter and sour. Often they clung to familiar patterns of living that were no longer adequate and kept repeating what once made sense but no longer could speak to the real circumstances of the moment.

Death has often affected people in this way, as we know too well. The death of husband, wife, child, or friend can cause people to stop living toward the unknown future and make them withdraw into the familiar past. They keep holding on to a few precious memories and customs and see their lives as having come to a standstill. They start to live as if they were thinking, “For me it is all over. There is nothing more to expect from life.” As you can see, here the opposite of detachment is taking place; here is a reattachment that makes life stale and takes all vitality out of existence. It is a life in which hope no longer exists.

If mother’s death were to lead us onto that road, her death would have no real meaning for us. Her death would be or become for us a death that closes the future and makes us live the rest of our lives in the enclosure of our own past. Then, our experience of powerlessness would not give us the freedom to detach ourselves from the past, but would imprison us in our own memories and immobilize us. Thus we would also lose the autonomy you have always held so dear.

I think there is a much more human option. It is the option to re-evaluate the past as a continuing challenge to surrender ourselves to an unknown future. It is the option to understand our experience of powerlessness as an experience of being guided, even when we do not know exactly where. Remember what Jesus said to Peter when he appeared to him after his resurrection: “When you were young you put on your own belt and walked where you liked; but when you grow old you will stretch out your hands, and somebody else will put a belt round you and take you where you would rather not go.”

Jesus said this immediately after he had told Peter three times to look after his sheep. Here we can see that a growing surrender to the unknown is a sign of spiritual maturity and does not take away autonomy. Mother’s death is indeed an invitation to surrender ourselves more freely to the future, in the conviction that one of the most important parts of our lives may still be ahead of us and that mother’s life and death were meant to make this possible. Do not forget that only after Jesus’ death could his disciples fulfill their vocation.”

Henri Nouwen in A Letter of Consolation (New York: HarperOne, 2009) 49. Let me know if you want this PDF. It’s a must-read for those who mourn or are struggling with difficult circumstances in life. It’s also a must-share for anyone you sense needing consolation.

If you wonder why this exploration of consolation, then let me report that these posts have touched me and many others deeply.

They have helped us revisit losses to see how God might use them for gain. It has taught us not to allow death to immobilize us but move us.

And the idea of being “guided” is so powerful. God will take us places (often out of our comfort zone) for our good and His glory.

So, in hard times like the ones we find ourselves, let us be people whose generosity reminds people that through surrender we find new life.

For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me and for the gospel will save it. Mark 8:35

“Things that made us worry greatly later prove to be quite insignificant, and things to which we hardly gave a thought before they took place turn our lives around. Thus our autonomy is rooted in unknown soil. This constitutes the great challenge: to be so free that we can be obedient, to be so autonomous that we can be dependent, to be so in control that we can surrender ourselves. Here we touch the great paradox in life: to live in order to be able to die. That is what detachment is all about. Detachment is not the opposite of autonomy but its fruit.”

Henri Nouwen in A Letter of Consolation (New York: HarperOne, 2009) 49. Let me know if you want this PDF. It’s powerful.

Got to see a dear Aussie mate, Tim Macready, this weekend. He was visiting Denver and plans to move here with his family in a few months.

He reported that packing up his home in Sydney into a shipping crate has been hard because they have accumulated so many things. As a shrewd steward, he added that while most of the things they possess they acquired for little or no money, the stewardship of them was still a burden.

Things. Notice what Henri writes about things.

“Things that made us worry greatly later prove to be quite insignificant, and things to which we hardly gave a thought before they took place turn our lives around.” The reason for detachment from things is it positions us to take hold of what really matters.

So, what worries you greatly today?

Tim is realizing that downsizing will allow him to travel through life with less burdens. It will free him to live, give, serve, and love more generously.

What about you? Are there things from which it is time to detach?