A New Leaf
Read the paper, turn on the news, walk the streets of most cities, suburbs, and small towns—it is almost easy to believe that darkness is winning. But perhaps it is worth stepping back and looking where God might show up—even in dark places where least expected. Look for the rainbows.
A Prayer
Sometimes, Lord, it is hard to believe.
I know, in my heart, You are good;
I know the great stories of our faith that tell how
You watched over
and rescued Your children from danger and evil.
But when the long shadows creep over me,
it is hard to see anything but darkness,
and I wonder where You are . . . if You are . . . at all.
Give me faith Lord, to see when I am blinded by that
darkness.
Give me light Lord, when evil seems to be at every turn.
Give me hope Lord, to trust and believe that even
when all
seems lost,
You are still there.
God, please . . . please send me rainbows.
Amen.
5 See Ephesians 5:8, “For once you were darkness, but now in the Lord you are light. Live as children of light” and 1 Thessalonians 5:5, “for you are all children of light and children of the day; we are not of the night or of darkness.”
He brought him outside and said, “Look toward heaven and count the stars, if you are able to count them.” Then he said to him, “So shall your descendants be.” And he believed the Lord; and the Lord reckoned it to him as righteousness.
—Genesis 15:5–6
One of the things about the shift from hot and humid summers (at least where I now live in Houston) to cooler, breezier falls, is that at night the stars and planets are more easily visible. I am no astronomer, but in more than five decades of life I have spent a great deal of time outside at night looking at the stars—Orion’s belt, Draco the Dragon, the Big and Little Dippers, the risings and settings of the moon, Venus, Mars. With a decent telescope, I have been able to spot the rings of Saturn, and the moons and great dark spot of Jupiter. There is much to see in looking up to the heavens—expanse is a good way to put it—an expanse that may make you feel rather small and insignificant.
It would be hard to write any set of reflections about God’s dealings with us and leave out this crucial interchange between Abram and God.6 You probably know the story. God has called Abram to leave home and seek a promised land. Abram goes on nothing but a promise of God—a promise that if he goes, “in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed” (Genesis 12:3). Whether that appealed to Abram’s ego, or he just downright thought it best to go—because God was evidently setting the stage for something really big—we do not know. We do know that he went.
There were challenges along the way. There were dangers. By the time we get to this passage Abram is getting fearful. God must have sensed that fear and says, “Do not be afraid, Abram, I am your shield; your reward shall be very great” (Genesis 15:1).
You think that would be enough, but Abram presses it with God, because at this point he has no children . . . no one, should Abram die, to pass on this legacy God has promised. At this point, you can almost see God shaking his divine head, putting an arm around good old Abram and saying, “Come outside with me. Look up at the stars. I created those, Abram—all of them. There are so many you cannot even count them. And if I can do that, I can do anything.” It was almost as if God was playing coach to the fearful quarterback when the team is down and the fourth quarter is almost over. “Trust me now, Abram,” God is saying. Abram, we are told “believed,” and that belief God credited to him as righteousness.
So we can see now why this passage is so important—it really is a kind of touchstone of what it means to be a righteous person. Most of us tend to equate “righteousness” with being right all the time. Are any of us right all the time? Are you? I find I am wrong most of the time—and occasionally, somewhat right—but even then I question my motives.
The Scottish evangelist Henry Drummond (d. 1897) once wrote, “Sin is a power in our life: let us fairly understand that it can only be met by another power.” I will write about this more as our autumn journey continues, but for now let us agree with Drummond. We usually know when we do not have it right and we often feel powerless to overcome our unrighteousness—so we need another power, outside of ourselves, to rescue us. We are not made holy and righteous because we try harder; we are made holy and righteous when we turn, “believe” (as Abram did) in God, trust in God—with our lives. In a word, being “righteous” is not so much about being right as it is about being right with God.
This is a crucial pill to swallow because our human tendency is to try harder, when what God is saying is “Trust in Me.” If you are having a bit of trouble with that, take a moment tonight and if the sky is clear where you are, go outside . . . see the handiwork of God. If God can do that, think what he can do in you, with you, through you—let God whisper to you as to Abram, “Look up.”
Of course one of the purposes of our faith is to empower us to live godly lives—lives that bespeak of the Holy Spirit of God working in and through us. Sadly, we too often think that’s our work to do, when what we are called to do first and foremost is give our lives to God and let God work in and through us. It really turns our human tendencies upside down, does it not? Perhaps it is time to focus not so much on being right, as on being right with God. How to do that? Look up, and believe, believe in God.
A Prayer
From deepest woe I cry to Thee;
Lord, hear me, I implore Thee!
Bend down Thy gracious ear to me;
I lay my sins before Thee.
If Thou rememberest every sin,
if nought but just reward we win,
could we abide Thy presence?
Thou grantest pardon through Thy love;
Thy grace alone availeth.
Our works could ne’er our guilt remove;
yea, e’en the best life faileth.
For none may boast themselves of aught,
but must confess Thy grace that wrought
whate’er in them is worthy.
And thus my hope is in the Lord,
and not in my own merit;
I