An Open Ear (2013 Rerun)

Posted on February 14, 2025 by Pete

Most often, when I think about the “surgery” God has done through the dynamics of salvation, I think about what God’s done to the heart. Through Ezekiel, we’re told that, through the regenerating work of salvation, God performs a heart transplant . . . that He replaces the old heart with a new heart . . . that He removes the heart of stone and upgrades it with a heart of flesh (Ezekiel 36:26-27). The new heart is a heart that can respond to the things of God . . . a heart attuned to the sound of His voice.

But reading in Psalm 40, I discover that in order for the heart to respond . . . in order for it to pick up on the Spirit’s voice . . . that there’s another “procedure” required . . .

In sacrifice and offering You have not delighted,
       but You have given me an open ear.

(Psalm 40:6 ESV)

When Jesus was preaching and teaching, often He would conclude with “He who has an ear to hear, let him hear.” In Revelation 2 and 3, when the Lord of the Church, through John, writes His letters to His people, He concludes each of them with, “He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.” So where did the ear to hear come from?

But You have given me an open ear.

Apparently, the word for “open” literally means to dig, or to bore, or to excavate. It has the idea of digging out a well. So, just as we might say, “God has given me a new heart” . . . we could also say that He has dug out my ears.

A divine Q-Tip (or maybe in my case a holy auger, as it were) has been applied to remove that which would hinder us from hearing His voice. Through His Spirit, He has tuned us into His frequency, that we might receive His Word and that, receiving it, it might find its way to new hearts ready to respond to that Word.

What a mistake it would be for me to take any credit for hearing or listening to God. What folly to think that somehow because I was spiritually attuned that I thus became a candidate for His grace and mercy. No, He dug out my ears. He bore through my spiritual deafness. He has given me an open ear.

I desire to do Your will, O my God;
       Your law is within my heart.

(Psalm 40:8 ESV)

The people of God desire to the will of God because He has placed the law of God within new hearts. And the law of God makes it’s way to the heart for God through ears opened by the grace of God.

O’, praise God for ears to hear!

Nothing of my doing . . . but You have given me an open ear.

Speak, LORD, for Your servant hears.

(1Samuel 3:9 ESV)

By Your grace . . . for Your glory . . .

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Bet Ya’ He Wasn’t Wearing Shoes

Posted on February 13, 2025 by Pete

Hovering over the first part of Matthew 17. Trying to imagine a face shining like the sun and clothes as white and bright as light itself. Not even the best, darkest sunglasses are going to allow you to stare into that very long. Trying to imagine what it was to look upon the transfigured Christ.

Literally, it was a great metamorphoo. A mind-blowing, eye-burning transformation. And that’s what I’m trying to behold with the eye of faith this morning. Jesus’ entire countenance changed before the physical eyes of Peter, James, and John. “Resplendent with divine brightness”, my Greek lexicon says — so that Peter, James, and John were able to peer into the majesty but for a moment. And all this, records Matthew, “up a high mountain.”

But they didn’t see Jesus only. They saw two others speaking with the robed-in-light Lord.

And after six days Jesus took with Him Peter and James, and John his brother, and led them up a high mountain by themselves. And He was transfigured before them, and His face shone like the sun, and His clothes became white as light. And behold, there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with Him.

(Matthew 17:1-3 ESV)

While trying to imagine the scene, I fixate on Moses. After all, this wasn’t his first rodeo. Being on mountains and beholding God’s glory was kind of Moses’ thing. Think Mount Sinai, wrapped in smoke “because the LORD had descended on it in fire” (Ex. 19:18). And God calls Moses to come up the mountain and into the cloud (Ex. 19:20). And what about Mt. Sinai 2.0 when Moses returns after that little “golden calf” incident? This time the “LORD descended in the cloud and stood there with him” declaring His holy name, showing Moses His glory as Moses took shelter in the cleft of the rock (Ex. 33:18-23, 34:5).

But as I think about Moses on the mount with Jesus, the encounter of the divine kind that comes to mind, in particular, is the one in front of a burning bush.

Now Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law, Jethro, the priest of Midian, and he led his flock to the west side of the wilderness and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. And the angel of the LORD appeared to him in a flame of fire out of the midst of a bush. . . . And He said, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.

(Exodus 3:1-2a, 6 ESV)

A burning bush. Aflame but not consumed. The Angel of the LORD appearing to Moses out of the midst of the bush, cast in the light of the fire’s radiance. The Messenger declaring, “I am God.” Like I said, the Mount of Transfiguration wasn’t Moses’ first and up-close brush with the glorified Second Person of the Trinity (yeah, I think the Angel of the LORD was the pre-incarnate Son of God).

So, what I’m wondering as I hover over the Mount of Transfiguration is this, “Was Moses wearing shoes?”

God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” Then He said, “Do not come near; take your sandals off your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.”

(Exodus 3:4b-5 ESV)

Holy ground. That was the state of the soil on that night Moses stood before the burning bush. Holy ground. That’s was the makeup of that mountain on the night when Peter, James, and John had front row seats to the glorified Christ meeting again with Moses. Holy ground. That’s what any and all ground is when in the presence of Jesus. Holy ground. Kind of feeling like I’m on it right now. Time to take your shoes off.

So, was Moses wearing shoes on that transfiguration night? Bet ya’ he wasn’t!

A barefoot Moses before the beloved Son of God. Hmm . . . that image just might stick.

With Jesus. Standing on holy ground. What sweet privilege.

Only by His grace.

Oh, to behold His glory.

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The Clothes Really Do Make the Man

Posted on February 11, 2025 by Pete

The “price of admission” wasn’t so much their character as it was their clothing. Not about all the good they had done, but all about the garments they would don. Less about their resume, more about their robe. Chewing this morning on what it takes to be ministering in the Holy Place.

From the blue and purple and scarlet yarns they made finely woven garments, for ministering in the Holy Place. They made the holy garments for Aaron, as the LORD had commanded Moses.

(Exodus 39:1 ESV)

Ministering in the Holy Place . . . Serving in the sanctuary. Doing for God in the very presence of God. Worshiping within the veil. What privilege for the priest. What access for Aaron, the “light bringer”.

Aaron. You know, the guy who made the golden calf (Ex. 32). Who not only brought great shame upon himself, but also great sin upon the people (Ex. 32:21). Yeah, that Aaron. But now the one who would not only enter the Holy Place but also have access to the Holy of Holies where the glory of God rested above the cherubim. Talk about a comeback. Talk about not getting what you deserve. Talk about grace. And if I’m picking up what’s being laid down here, it was because of what he would wear. The clothes really do make the man.

The clothes make the man. The clothes make the woman. A modern proverb reflecting a modern reality that a person’s appearance affects how a person is perceived. That a person will be judged by others by what they wear. In that context, it’s perhaps somewhat shallow. But when it comes to ministering in the Holy Place, you better believe the clothes make the man, that the garments make the woman. True then. True today.

As believers, we are priests. A holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ (1Peter 2:5). A royal priesthood, proclaiming the excellencies of Him who called us out of darkness into His marvelous light (1Peter 2:9). And, like Aaron, priests not because of who we are or what we’ve done — actually, despite of who we were and what we did — but ultimately because of the clothes we wear.

I will greatly rejoice in the LORD;
       my soul shall exult in my God,
for He has clothed me
       with the garments of salvation;
He has covered me
       with the robe of righteousness.

(Isaiah 61:10a ESV)

For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ.

(Galatians 3:27 ESV)

Clothed with garments of salvation . . . covered with the robe of righteousness . . . having put on Christ. That’s what admit us into the Holy Place. That’s what qualifies us for service. Nothing in our pedigree nor our performance. All, and solely His provision.

O’ the wonder of being an “insider.” Of having access to the very presence of God.

But greater yet is the worship, as I meditate on filthy rags (Isa. 64:6 NKJV) being covered up by a righteous robe. As I wonder at the polluted garments (ESV) which have been exchanged for Christ’s perfect character. My union with Christ alone being the finely woven garments allowing me access to the Holy Place. And there, to minister before the Holy One.

Hallelujah! What a great salvation.

Hallelujah! What a Savior!

All dressed up and ready to go.

Only by His grace. Only for His glory.

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His or Mine? Yes.

Posted on February 10, 2025 by Pete

It’s two words in a somewhat familiar psalm that have captured my attention this morning. Two words. Which I’ve underlined with a purple color-pencil as they seem to be a command to obey. But to be honest, not quite sure exactly what is being commanded. Perhaps it’s because these two words may actually entail two commands to obey.

Fret not yourself because of evildoers;
       be not envious of wrongdoers!
For they will soon fade like the grass
       and wither like the green herb.
Trust in the LORD, and do good;
       dwell in the land and befriend faithfulness.

(Psalm 37:1-2 ESV)

Befriend faithfulness . . . Those are the two words I’m chewing on this morning.

The context for David’s song seems to be how to live in a land of “evildoers.” Twelve times in the song’s 40 verses, reference is made to the “the wicked.” Whatever the exact circumstances of David’s poetic inspiration, David is counseling whoever has ears to hear on how to not only survive but thrive in “evil times” (37:19). Hmm . . . could be a song for our times? Ya’ think?

I remember some teaching I heard on the psalm as a young man. A view of the song which built on five pillars found within its lyrics:

  • “Trust in the LORD” (v.3);
  • “Delight yourself in the LORD” (v. 4);
  • “Commit your way to the LORD” (v.5);
  • “Be still before the LORD” (v. 7);
  • “Wait for the LORD” (v. 34).

Though probably received 40 years ago, I have never forgotten the impact of that brother’s exhortation. Good teaching. Not only at the best of times, but, according to David, for the worst of times.

And within one of those foundations, “Trust in the LORD”, the two words that have grabbed me this morning: Befriend faithfulness.

Okay. But whose faithfulness? His or mine?

In a eco-system of prevailing wickedness and wrongdoers, am I to befriend, or literally “feed on” or “pasture within” God’s faithfulness? I think so. Kind of goes with “trust in the LORD”, doesn’t it? Whatever the day brings, especially in a culture marked by corruption and chaos, leaning into the assurance of God’s daily care and provision would seem to be not only a wise thing to do, but a necessary thing as well. Without befriending His faithfulness, not sure how we would withstand the bombardment of the world’s wickedness. So, yeah. Befriend God’s faithfulness.

But could befriend faithfulness instead be a command to become intimately familiar with being faithful? A reference to my faithfulness? I think so, also. Kind of goes with “do good”, doesn’t’ it? The NASB seems to think so when it renders the exhortation as “cultivate faithfulness.” Be a friend to being faithful, even in a land that seems at war, or at the least intent on warping, the Way. Keep on keepin’ on . . . determining to make the main thing the main thing. Befriend being faithful.

So which is it? Embrace His faithfulness or link arms with a determination to exercise faithfulness? Is it His or mine? Short answer: Yes.

Isn’t that the essence of trusting? Resting in His mercies which are new every morning (Lam. 3:22-23) even as I rekindle the desire to walk in those mercies in a manner worthy of my calling (Eph. 4:1)? Welcoming each day His promised, steadfast provision, while also wanting, with a Spirit-sparked determination, to follow with steadfast devotion? As someone else has said, abiding with the intent of acting? I’m thinking . . .

Trust in the LORD . . .

Befriend faithfulness . . . His and mine.

Only by His grace. Only for His glory.

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There’s a River!

Posted on February 7, 2025 by Pete

There are rivers. And then, there are rivers! Rivers that are more like large streams and almost run dry in the summer months, and rivers which, at certain points, you can barely see across as they eventually end up pouring millions of gallons of runoff into the ocean regardless of the time of year. Rivers for catching fish, and rivers for shipping containers. Yeah, there are rivers. And then, there are rivers! This morning I’m pretty sure I’m reading about the latter and not the former.

How precious is Your steadfast love, O God!
       The children of mankind take refuge in
              the shadow of Your wings.
They feast on the abundance of Your house,
       and You give them drink from the river of Your delights.
For with You is the fountain of life;
       in Your light do we see light.

(Psalm 36:7-9 ESV)

The river of Your delights . . . That’s the river I’m noodling on this morning.

Rivers are kind of a big deal in the biblical story. It began amidst a river (Gen. 2:10), and it’s gonna end around a river (Rev. 22:1-2). And in between, guess what? There’s a river. A river of God’s delights.

A river — a torrent, a flood. Of His delights — His luxurious pleasures. There’s a river and He’s made it available for the children of mankind to drink from.

What does drinking from the river of God’s delights look like? Sampling? Sipping? Conserving? Or is it, chugging, gulping, and gorging? Is it, as Peterson puts it, filling our tankards? (With non-alcoholic beverages of course)

What does it taste like? Bitter? Blah? Like taking my medicine? Or is it intoxicating? Addicting? Tasting so good that you can’t stop and run the risk of drowning in it?

Like I said before, I’m leaning to the latter rather than the former.

If it’s God’s river, there’s no scarcity. So, why am I so often more of a sampler than a swigger?

If it’s God’s river of delights, then why do I so often act like I’ve sucked on a lemon rather than plunged into something “sweeter than honey and drippings of the honeycomb” (Ps. 19:10)? Why is it more like sipping on hot tea after a funeral than hoisting one high at an Oktoberfest?

There is a river. A here and now river. An overflowing river. A thirst-quenching river. A river of God’s delights. A fountain of life. A river of living water.

Jesus stood up and cried out, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to Me and drink. Whoever believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.'” Now this He said about the Spirit.

(John 7:37b-39a ESV)

Yup . . . there are rivers. And then, there’s a river! The river of God’s delights!

So, let’s fill our tankards!

By His grace. For His glory.

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All My Bones

Posted on February 6, 2025 by Pete

The songwriter knew that only a great deliverance could rescue him from such great desperation. That only God showing up could reverse what was going down. And in the anticipation of such a great salvation, the poet could imagine a flood-like response of overflowing adoration.

Contend, O LORD, with those who
       contend with me;
fight against those who fight against me! . . .

For without cause they hid their net for me;
       without cause they dug a pit for my life.
Let destruction come upon him
       when he does not know it!
And let the net that he hid ensnare him;
       let him fall into it— to his destruction!

Then my soul will rejoice in the LORD,
       exulting in His salvation.
All my bones shall say,
       “O LORD, who is like You,
delivering the poor
       from him who is too strong for him,
       the poor and needy from him who robs him?”

(Psalm 35:1, 7-10 ESV)

All my bones . . . Those are the three words I’m chewing on this morning.

Everything within me. Every fiber of my being. All that I am. My very essence. At my very core. With all my heart and soul. Fervently. Intensely. Passionately. Wholeheartedly.

You get the idea.

Now apply the idea.

All my bones shall say,
       “O LORD, who is like You?”

Thinking this morning that people of great deliverance — people who once lived in great despair and darkness but who are now people of great life and light — will be people who, from time to time, will find themselves whispering or shouting, thinking or singing, with all my bones, “O LORD, who is like You?”

Way too easy to become way too familiar with the cross and it’s rescue. For the good news to somehow default to old news.

But oh, when the Spirit who lives within us reminds us of our redemption, when He impresses upon us afresh the wonders of our reconciliation, then, with every bone in our body, how can we not go down on our face and lift up our heart and respond with all our being, “O LORD, who is like You?”

Thinkin’ we can’t . . .

All my bones . . .

In awe of all His grace . . .

For all His glory . . .

Amen?

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He Still Watches Me

Posted on February 4, 2025 by Pete

After reading Psalm 33 this morning, I went back through my journal and looked at Psalm 33 entries from the past. There was quite a few of them, the first being in 2008, the first year I started posting my thoughts. A number of them dealt with singing. After all, proclaims the psalmist, “Praise befits the upright” (33:1). In one entry, I noted that on a “praise-per-inch” basis, you’re not gonna get a much better bang for your buck than Psalm 33.

But then I came to the entry for 2017. That year I was behind in my reading plan. While I usually try and track a week or so ahead of plan, that year I was a few days behind. Makes sense. There was a lot going on in February 2017. It was around this time 8 years ago that we brought in hospice and entered our final vigil. My wife went to be with the Lord, February 17th, 2017. Below are my thoughts from February 13th.

Been a few more trials, different types of “deep ends”, since then. For many, our current cultural moment feels a bit overwhelming. But one thing hasn’t changed. His eye is still on the sparrow, and I know He still watches me. (Make sure to watch the video.)

February 13, 2017

Managed to get some time in my study this morning and catch up on my reading plan. Good to get some quiet time and listen. Word of God speak.

But didn’t get to my computer until early evening. Kind of the way our days have been going lately.

As I was catching up in the psalms, the following verses caught my attention and gave me something to chew on.

Behold, the eye of the LORD is on those who fear Him,
       on those who hope in His steadfast love.    (Psalm 33:18 ESV)

The eyes of the LORD are toward the righteous
       and His ears toward their cry.    (Psalm 34:15 ESV)

Something about knowing you’re being watched that can be kind of intimidating . . . especially if you have something to hide! But there’s also something about knowing you’re being watched that can act as a source of courage and comfort.

I remember my kids when they were little getting ready to try something new. Something they thought was kind of risky and dangerous like jumping into the deep end of the pool by themselves. They’d walk to the deep end. Stand by the edge. Survey the leap they were about to take. Remind themselves that they were pretty sure they’d be able to swim back to the edge. And then, as a final safety check they’d look over at me and say, “Dad, are you watching?”

I was. And all systems were a go. Splash! Into the deep end they went . . . all by themselves.

Life can kind of be like a series of “deep ends.” Something new you have to experience comes along. Something hard or dangerous or simply something you don’t want to have to do. But you know you gotta. Others have done it, so can you.

So you get ready. You know God’s promises are sure and that you really can do all things through Him who strengthens you (Php. 4:13). You believe that His grace really is sufficient and that His power really is made known in your weakness (2Cor. 12:9). And so you’re ready to take that next step. But you still want to look up and say, “Dad, are you watching?”

The songwriter twice reminds me: Yes, He’s watching.

Behold the eye of Abba Father is on those who fear Him, on those who have placed their hope solely in the eternal promise of His steadfast love. The eyes of our Father are locked on His children, fully knowing how scary it is to charter into unknown and unpleasant territory. And He hears their cry.

As I was chewing on the blessedness of being watched by my heavenly Father, a segment from an old (like really old) Gaither DVD came to mind (pardon Michael English’s fashion faux pas). “His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me,” they sing over and over again. It brought a smile to my face and a bit of joy induced lightness to my heart. If you have a couple of minutes, click here, sit back, and let it put a bit of a smile on your face — and some praise in your heart — as well.

Yeah, getting a bit of time in the Word and a bit more time on my computer has been a refreshing pause today. Now, back into the deep end.

By His grace. For His glory.

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My People

Posted on January 31, 2025 by Pete

Corinth. I read the word, I think of the church. The divided church. The quarreling church. The adultery in the pew church. The suing one another church. The church of a dozen questions — about marriage, about food sacrificed to idols, about spiritual gifts. The church that messed up the Lord’s supper. The church that eventually turned on Paul. Oh, I know about that church.

But then I keep reading and I’m gently rebuked. Not because I’ve misunderstood what the letters to the Corinthians were dealing with, but because I’ve misidentified the people to whom the letters were written. People, who Jesus said, are “My people.”

After this Paul left Athens and went to Corinth. . . . And many of the Corinthians hearing Paul believed and were baptized. And the Lord said to Paul one night in a vision, “Do not be afraid, but go on speaking and do not be silent, for I am with you, and no one will attack you to harm you, for I have many in this city who are My people.” And he stayed a year and six months, teaching the word of God among them.

(Acts 18:1, 8b-11 ESV)

My people . . . That’s what pops this morning.

While I might tend towards a bit of smugness as I think about that church, it’s because I forget that Jesus also knew all about that church — even before they were a church. And still, He says to Paul, “Keep preaching. Keep teaching. Keep adding to the church’s number. ‘Cause there are a lot of folks in this town who are going to believe the gospel. Many in this city who are My people.”

Think about it. If New Testament believers had had their acts together, we wouldn’t have a New Testament beyond Acts. If the early church was a healthy, functioning church, no reason to write letters to correct the church. So, when we talk about wanting to be like the first century church . . . ta da!! . . . we are! Yet, in all our mixed-up messiness, in all our frustrating failures, in all our confused quirkiness, hear Jesus say, “These are the many who are My people.“

My people . . . That’s the church — the whole church. Not just “the best” of the church. Not just those who have their theological i’s and doctrinal t’s crossed. Not just those who have figured out “community” and “being on mission.” Not just those who don’t need to read Paul’s letters because they don’t have the issues addressed by Paul’s letters.

No, My people is we people. Those of us who don’t have our acts (pun intended) quite together. Those of us who are still figuring out the mysteries of the ways of God. Those of us who are still fracturing the unity of the Spirit of God. Those of us who are still messing up when it comes to worshiping God. Those of us still limping along as we keep longing to know fully the kingdom of God. Those of us who are still being tripped up by sin against God. Those would be, says Jesus, My people.

I’m reminded that there is nothing that we works-in-progress can do to make God love us more. Nothing we can do that can cause God to love us less. Nothing that makes us any more, or any less His people. For while we were yet sinners — while we were yet the messed-up church to be — God showed the depths of His love for us in that Christ died for us (Rom. 5:8). So that, one day, in some town somewhere, we’d hear the gospel, and respond to the gospel, and be welcomed by the Savior as My people.

Corinth. What a bunch. But Jesus’ bunch. Jesus’ people. And my people too.

Making the wonders of grace all that more wonderful.

Making the glory of God all that more glorious.

Amen?

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The Morning After the Night Before (2013 Remix)

Posted on January 30, 2025 by Pete

What a night! No sooner had they begun to revel in the “thrill of victory” after having walked out of a plundered Egypt, then they found their backs to the sea, certain they were about to experience “the agony of defeat” as Pharaoh’s armies were bearing down on them. Despite the recent experience of that first Passover, when God revealed that He was for them and nothing could stand against them, and even though the pillar of cloud was literally still in their midst, there was something about seeing the dust being kicked up by hundreds and hundreds of chariots that struck fear in the hearts of the people God had just delivered with a great deliverance. Something that made them want to go back to slavery rather than deal with what appeared to be the perils of freedom (Ex.14:10-12).

But that was yesterday. And chariots don’t float. So, as morning broke . . . as they looked back from the other side of the Red Sea . . . as they beheld the lifeless bodies of their pursuers . . . their fear of the Egyptians gave way to a fear of the LORD (Ex. 14:31). On the morning after the night before, angst gave way to awe. Thus, the cry of these former slaves of Egypt became the song of the redeemed.

Then Moses and the people of Israel sang this song to the LORD, saying,

“I will sing to the LORD, for He has triumphed gloriously;
       the horse and his rider He has thrown into the sea.
The LORD is my strength and my song,
       and He has become my salvation;
this is my God, and I will praise Him,
       my father’s God, and I will exalt Him.”

(Exodus 15:1-2 ESV)

To be honest, there’s a part of me that wants to sit in judgment on the Israelites. After all, they had witnessed the plagues in Egypt. They had lived through Passover knowing the power of the blood to save. They had walked out of Egypt not only as former slaves but as rich slaves, their former task masters handing over to them abundant treasures and material goods. They were being escorted by the very presence of God Himself in the pillar of cloud by day and the pillar of fire by night. So, how could they get so bent out of shape, how could they so quickly want to go back into bondage when Pharaoh took one last run at reclaiming his workforce?

But if I’m really honest, I know that deliverance can be a scary thing. That freedom comes with a whole new set of dangers. That being redeemed doesn’t mean being removed from the enemies of life. I get that night still falls on those who have been freed from bondage.

Yet, I’m also thinking that it’s during those times — times when your back’s against the wall (or the Red Sea, as the case may be) — that those who have been bought by the Lord are ready to be reminded to be brave in the Lord and “fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the LORD.” When those rescued of God are ready to be shown they will be defended by God and that “the LORD will fight for you, and you have only to be silent” (Ex. 14:13-14).

There is a morning after the night before. For those delivered from slavery, there will be repeated deliverance from the storms. There’s a coming out the other side where God’s feeble, fear-filled, followers experience again the mighty hand of God acting again on their behalf.

And in that morning moment — and it may be just a moment, for the next challenge may not be far off — praise is fitting. To exult in the victory is to know that it is the LORD who has triumphed. That it is God who is our strength. That He really has become our salvation. Fitting, thus, that He should be our song.

While it might not be the final victory — more trials to come, more seas to face, more nights to endure — to remember and reflect on those mornings after the nights before is to cling to Him as “my God.” It is to look beyond the chariots and still praise Him. To recall His faithfulness to generations of His people and exalt Him.

I need to savor those mornings after the nights before. I need to bring them to remembrance when times are good. I need to recall them when times are not so good. And, at all times, I need to be singing the song of those bought with a great price and brought out with a great salvation.

You have led in Your steadfast love the people whom You have redeemed;
       You have guided them by Your strength to Your holy abode. . . .
You will bring them in and plant them on Your own mountain,
       the place, O LORD, which You have made for Your abode,
       the sanctuary, O Lord, which Your hands have established.

(Exodus 15:13, 17 ESV)

On the morning after the night before and during the night before the morning after, I will sing to the LORD!

Only by His grace. Always for His glory.

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Dealing with Some Dissonance

Posted on January 29, 2025 by Pete

Not sure I’m going to be able to adequately capture in a few words what I’m chewing on this morning. It’s one of the those “contrast” mornings where there’s conflicting, maybe even colliding observations from two of my readings.

First, I get a bit high-centered on a verse in Exodus — pausing, hovering, and meditating on the verse for a bit before regaining traction to move on.

At midnight the LORD struck down all the firstborn in the land of Egypt, from the firstborn of Pharaoh who sat on his throne to the firstborn of the captive who was in the dungeon, and all the firstborn of the livestock. And Pharaoh rose up in the night, he and all his servants and all the Egyptians. And there was a great cry in Egypt, for there was not a house where someone was not dead.

(Exodus 12:29-30 ESV)

There was not a house where someone was not dead . . . Got stuck there. Finished the chapter and then went back to try and wrap my mind around that phrase.

Not a house! Not one, in all of Egypt, that didn’t have someone they would need to bury. How awful. It’s way too easy for me to focus solely on the deliverance of God’s people and skip over the judgment of His enemies. Too easy to think of those who walked away and forget those washed away. What was it to hear that “great cry” in Egypt that night? What was it to be one of the criers? Heavy sigh.

Then, after reading in Matthew and then Acts, but with Exodus 12 still in mind, I close my readings in the Psalms. And it’s a line in a song of David that creates the dissonance in my deliberations.

One thing have I asked of the LORD,
       that will I seek after:
that I may dwell in the house of the LORD
       all the days of my life,
to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD
       and to inquire in His temple.

(Psalm 27:4 ESV)

To gaze upon the beauty of the LORD . . . That’s the phrase I want to run with. That’s the one I want to settle into. To contemplate His beauty. To behold His delightfulness. To fix the eyes of my heart on His pleasantness.

Yet, I can’t shake not a house where someone was not dead. Can’t disassociate the beauty of the LORD from the LORD who struck down all the firstborn in the land of Egypt. Can’t compartmentalize the call to delight in the LORD while still reeling from the implications of the deliverance of the LORD. How do those two things go together?

Seems to me, it comes down to where you’re going to anchor your soul, and which verse is going to provide context for the other. To cast the LORD’s beauty in the shadow of Egypt’s judgment, or Egypt’s judgment processed in the prevailing truth of the LORD’s beauty. In light of the truth of the gospel, I’m going with the LORD’s beauty as the faith anchor for my soul.

Though hard to reconcile in the details, the same holiness that emits a gaze worthy beauty, is the holiness that demands payment for evil. The wonder of deliverance can only be realized against the backdrop of an enemy’s defeat. The Exodus horror must be viewed in light of the Psalm’s beauty. Right?

Isn’t that how faith works? Isn’t that what it means, at least in part, to trust in the LORD with all your heart (Prov. 3:5-6)? Believing that God takes no pleasure in the death of the wicked (Ezek. 18:23, 32; 33:11)? Resting in the incomprehensible reality that while God calls the wicked to forsake his ways, and though God is slow to anger and ready to wait, God, if He is God, must eventually judge the wicked when they persist to harden their hearts? That His thoughts and His ways are so much higher than ours (Isa. 55:7-9)? Isn’t that what quiets the dissonance? I’m thinkin’ . . .

So, while I can’t get evict the mental picture of Egyptian households on Passover night from my mind, it is eclipsed by my God’s beauty, the splendor of holiness (Ps. 29:2).

And so, I gaze.

Makes sense?

Because of grace. For His glory.

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