The the Uttermost...

“Therefore He is also able to save to the uttermost those who come to God through Him, since He always lives to make intercession for them.” (Hebrews 7:25, NKJV)

I recently completed Tyler Staton’s book, Praying Like Monks, Living Like Fools. His first appendix is a short chapter about the intercession of Christ, riffing on this verse in Hebrews. First, if you haven’t read the book, I encourage you to do so. It is a great book on prayer. Second, the real reason I’m here is to riff on this some more. I hope it helps you as much as it has helped me.

The author of Hebrews is making an argument for the supremacy of Christ’s status as the true and better high priest that the office of high priest described in the Torah pointed to. What struck me was this word “uttermost”. Frankly, I haven’t given it much thought or study until reading Staton’s book. Now, I can’t seem to get it out of my heart.

I’m most familiar with the term in describing geography – the uttermost parts of the earth. The very ends of the earth, if there is such a thing on a globe. We could go round and round on the topic, but I don’t want to spin up that discussion unnecessarily. But when thinking about the term theologically, the term operates simultaneously in a number of dimensions.

First with regards to time. I have thought that when Christ atoned for my sins it was for all my sins up to the point in time when I surrendered to him.  After that it was like playing catchup. Every time I knowingly sinned, I would have to renew that atonement by confessing my sins again and asking him to forgive me, constantly playing catch up and looking over my shoulder. When we consider the complete sufficiency of his atonement, however, it has to account for the totality of my life. From the moment my mother gave birth to me to the moment I die; he has atoned for all my sin.

Secondly, with regards to depth. By this I mean the depth of our sin and the depth of our need for atonement. There isn’t anything that I have done, from what we might see as the most inconsequential sin to the most horrific act of sin and unrighteousness we can think of – and we have several examples of that just in the 20^th century alone – his atonement covers all of that. Unfortunately, I don’t have to look beyond my own life for any examples.

Third, with regards to breadth. When I think of the number of people with whom I have shared family or work or church or life, I can always pick out someone at some time against whom I have sinned. And it all leads back to sinning against God as I have sinned against someone created in his image. And he doesn’t like that. But again, he is faithful and just. We are not and when we have been wronged it is far too easy for us to continue to hold a grudge against that person or institution who has burned us unrighteously.

I’m going to stop here as I have a hard time thinking about much beyond our usual four dimensions in space-time. I’m sure, however, that you can think of other dimensions in our lives in which this holds true.

But that should not constrain our thoughts on the matter. Regardless of the number of dimensions we might envision, his atonement and our redemption is to the uttermost. I can’t even imagine where that might exist; I don’t think we’re supposed to. The Psalmist asks where can I hide from your presence, where can I escape you, O LORD?[1]

I think this is what Paul had in mind when he wrote this to the church in Ephesus.

“For this reason, I fall on my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth receives its character. I pray that from the treasures of his glory he will empower you with inner strength by his Spirit, so that the Messiah may live in your hearts through your trusting. Also I pray that you will be rooted and founded in love, so that you, with all God’s people, will be given strength to grasp the breadth, length, height and depth of the Messiah’s love, yes, to know it, even though it is beyond all knowing, so that you will be filled with all the fullness of God. Now to him who by his power working in us is able to do far beyond anything we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the Messianic Community and in the Messiah Yeshua from generation to generation forever. Amen.” (Ephesians 3:14–21, CJB)

Can we really grasp the breadth and length and height and depth of the Messiah’s love? That is what Paul is praying for; that is what the author of Hebrews is reminding them of. That is a prayer that God wants to answer; that we need answered. It is what God wants each of us to grasp, to hold onto, and to explore as we ask the Holy Spirit to reveal it to us in greater depth.

Now, you may be thinking “Ooh! Ooh! I have carte blanche to go do whatever I want and God will still forgive me!” This is exactly what Paul was accused of[2]. Not so fast! John points out that we were not the first to love – God was. And our response to his love is to love him in return and to abide in him. When we do that, when we live in trusting obedience to the Father, we know the full extent of what we are capable of but we also know the full extent of his compassion and grace and mercy and steadfast love and justice. As John reminds us, when we confess our sins he is faithful and just to forgive us.[3] He is, after all, the kapparah for our sins (vs 2).

One more item to consider. You might ask “What exactly is Jesus doing now? Chilling with the angels? Waiting in the wings until he returns?” Fair questions. But the answer is right here. “He always lives to make intercession for the saints.” That’s his job now; it is how he makes a living – by bringing us to life and life to us. His job is to bring us before the Father of Lights in the midst of our joys and troubles, our trials and testing, our victories and setbacks. It doesn’t matter what we’re experiencing, he is praying for each of us and for his church, his bride in all aspects of our lives. He is committed to our growth, our maturity, our success (as he defines it, not as we do). He and the Father have sent the Holy Spirit to comfort and confront, guide, encourage, to convict us of sin, righteousness, and judgment[4], and to groan on our behalf. They are committed to our participation in their eternal dance.

“But He, because He continues forever, has an unchangeable priesthood.” (Hebrews 7:24, NKJV)

All of this because he continues forever and his priesthood is forever. Because his priesthood is forever and continuous across time and place, his offering and atonement are perfect; they never need to be renewed. Because his atonement is perfect and constant, our salvation is forever and perfect. This is precisely what God, the Father, was after. He didn’t want something that needed to be renewed every year at Yom Kippur[5]. His goal is to create new hearts, soft hearts, hearts from which the fat of our desires has been removed and which constantly turn towards him.

There is comfort for us in the knowledge of the totality of God’s love, Christ’s atonement, and the Holy Spirit’s empowerment.

May the LORD be with you.

---

[1] Psalm 139

[2] Romans 6:1-14

[3] 1 John 2:1-6

[4] John 16:5-15

[5] Read Hebrews 7:11-18

My House Has Been Tossed

My house has been tossed
Books torn from shelves and scattered

Across the floor, pages torn

Drawers pulled out, emptied, smashed

Contents strewn across the floor

Like so many shards of glass, crystalized

Closets emptied without regard to modesty

The mattress shifted, shivved, springs exposed

Fridge emptied, its contents spilled on the floor,

Milk, fruit, meat

Rotting in the heat

Even the smooth walls and ceilings opened

To expose the insulation of life

Hanging out, hanging down.

 

Dismayed, dismal, downcast, disillusioned.

When I survey this wond’rous loss…

 

Did I do this? An intruder? The enemy? You?

 

Tossed, not destroyed

I hear You whisper in my ear

Let’s pick it up

Let Us restore

Let Us rearrange

Let Us create anew

 

We set to work, You and me

But mostly You

As I can’t see through the tears

Can’t feel through the heartache

Can’t hear through the roar of my heart

Can’t hear anything but Your voice

Can feel only Your presence.

Can only yield and participate.

The Book of John

One of the highlights of my day is walking to my office from the bus stop. While I enjoy the walk (usually), and look forward to my stop at the Starbucks outside my building for my morning chai, what I really enjoy is being greeted by John on the mornings he occupies the corner opposite Starbucks. He sells copies of the latest weekly paper focused on the homeless. Regardless of your age, his greeting of “Good Morning, Young Lady” (or in my case, “Young Man”) rings out over the traffic to everyone who crosses his corner and a broad smile lights up his face. He makes my day.

I don’t know much about him. He’s wandered around the US a lot, lived in Chicago and Minneapolis for a while, and finally came back to Seattle. It’s friendlier here, though still just as hard. He came here once when he was a younger man and enjoyed the people. I would have to say he has done more than his share returning the favor.

What little I know of him I learned one day on a bus ride from a visit with a client I was doing some pro bono work for. We noticed each other after I got on the bus and after sitting down a few seats away, decided to introduce myself and let him know how much I appreciated seeing his smiling face and warm greeting every day. He was on his way from the shelter where he lived. He told me a little about his travels, how he came to Seattle, his hopes for a future job, how often he was at that corner and the reason for his jovial greetings. He sees a lot of people selling the same paper, standing on different corners, but silent, almost sullen. John decided that regardless of whether he sold someone a paper or not, they deserved to be treated well. Some might refer to that as “karma”; I see him sewing what he hopes to reap. And it makes a difference. He has more people walking away from that corner with a smile on their faces than anyone I’ve seen. I’ve even noticed women blush when he refers to them as “young lady”.

After we met on the bus that day, I now get a personal greeting from him - a man hug and a hearty “GOOD MORNING, THOMAS! How are you today?” Every day, whether he is there or not, I’m reminded to pray for him. I buy a paper and ask after his health and his plans. When I didn’t see him for a few weeks, I worried and was glad to see him when he returned. He’d had problems with his feet and the doctor told him to stay off them until they healed up.

But it doesn’t seem enough. I feel like I’m telling him to be “warmed and filled”. I’d like to buy him coffee at the very least. I’d like to invite him for Christmas or Thanksgiving dinner. But I don’t want him to feel like he’s a project I’ve taken on. I want him to know that he is missed and that he is loved. I want to walk past that man throughout eternity.

Lord, help me.

Got clothes?

She stood, casually chatting with a friend in the street behind our offices. It was not her looks that attracted attention. She was good looking, without a doubt. It was her posture. It bespoke an attitude about her life, her worldview. Insouciant, cavalier, without concern. Proud of her looks and charms.

What struck me as ironic was the fact that she would have never stood that way if she had no clothes on. She would have been less carefree, and more concerned with her nakedness. Much as you and I would be if we knew how naked we really are.

You see – her stance, her attitude reflected what so many of us think about ourselves. We are comfortable in the conceit that once we have clothes on, nothing matters. Our “selves” – at least our bodies – are invisible. Unless we choose to expose our bodies, no one can see what we are like. What we choose to wear provides only a glimpse of the person underneath.

What we do not realize is that we really are naked. Our credit limit at Nordstrom or our eye for fashion means little to God. Regardless of how we try to disguise ourselves, He sees right through to the core of who we are. He sees the Truth of who we are. He sees the Reality of who we are. Moreover, He sees exactly what we need and He has provided it. His concern is for our nakedness in His presence, not for His ability to cover our nakedness and shame.

You know what is interesting? He is not repulsed by our nakedness. He does not hide Himself from us in our most embarrassing moments in life. When we’re exposed, He covers us.

I remember my son’s first efforts to dress himself when he was little. He knew he needed clothes and he knew where they were. His first appearance before Mom, fully dressed for the first time – all by himself – brought a chuckle. The intent was right, but so much else was not quite right. Colors. Buttons. Belt. Socks. Size. But all that mattered little. My wife scooped him into her arms and carried him back to his room for some much-needed assistance.

The Father does the same for us. God could be angry with our attempts to do it ourselves, but He is not. He is saddened at our efforts to always try to do it ourselves; He is compassionate in providing what we need, not just to cover our shame, but to remove it. And He is willing. Willing to remind us of our nakedness and our inability to cover ourselves. Willing to remind us He can dress us and that only He can take away our shame, not just cover it up. So let us put on Christ.

If she had only known. If she had only understood. Then, she would really experience a carefree insouciance, a care-less-ness born of the knowledge of God’s love, His mercy, His forgiveness.

Yes, I'm waiting

My brother-in-law is about to leave this world. He's been battling pancreatic cancer for almost three-and-a-half years. The battle is almost over.

He's 53. And married, with a four year old daughter. His wife has had to watch the slow and now sudden decline of the man she loves. Of a husband who used to run circles around her, so full of energy. He feels 90. Now, he has to use a walker and ask for help. Something he is always loath to do. It is very sad. It is heartbreaking.

My wife just returned from three weeks spent with them, helping and serving where she could. She had to come back before she wanted to. She wanted to stay, knowing that these last few days would be the hardest on his wife and daughter. Knowing she could help and wanting to. Wanting to show the deep love she has for her brother, his wife, and their daughter. Wanting God to show them Jesus. I know she wants to be back there now, doing what she can, being Christ to them.

I have wanted to ask him some questions, but he has been very antagonistic towards Christianity. And for some good reasons. He's gotten very angry, derisive, even verbally abusive towards my wife - his sister - when they have spoken about this in the past. I long to have a quiet conversation with him. But he does not have the energy, the strength that it would take to talk for extended periods of time. And I don't want him to waste his energy in anger.

God, have mercy on him. Make yourself real. Draw him to You. Sweep the detritus and the anger and the hurt out of the way. Brush it from the path before him so he can run to the foot of the cross and embrace it. Invade his space and let him know you love him and long for him. In that masterful Way of yours, leave him without defense and be his defender.

You see, my brother-in-law doesn't know if there is a God, but he wants there to be one. I'm not sure why, but I think it is because he wants to see justice done. I think he wants to know that some Where, some When, Someone will confront his Dad. But if he doesn't really know if there is a God, why? If there is, won't He judge everyone fairly? Me? My wife? My father-in-law? My brother-in-law? Doesn't he understand that this must be so? God is even-handed, just. But God is also merciful. Compassionate. Providing a Way when, and where, we cannot.

Something about...

Waiting. Expectantly. Cautiously. Patiently. Purposefully. Dreadfully.
Weighting the wait... A? B? C? NC? How quietly can you wait?
Windows weight. And filter. Is it Hamming? Cosine? Tukey? Your front door?
Why filter? Is it just too much to handle? Not inside our bandpass?
What do we filter? What is swept away and what remains?
Waiting the weight... will it lift? What will it leave? Will I see its path?

Even God filters. We cannot know what He knows; cannot see what He sees;
Cannot grasp what He holds in the palm of His hand. The Universe. The Quanta.
We cannot even grasp us. In the palm of His hand.
So we wait...
Expectantly. Cautiously. Patiently. Purposefully. But
I am a dreadful waiter, in spite of outward appearances.

Readings

In very short order and somewhat simultaneously, I just finished reading "The Death of Adam", "Home", and "Gilead" by Marilynne Robinson.

Wow.

I have to go watch the rain fall, soak the earth, and leach into the aquifer.