The Church at Powai

Solitude is a choice; loneliness is not.  Solitude discourages company; loneliness desperately seeks it.  And solitude was what HE chose.  The venue was the garden--thick brushes, tall trees, and Morning Glories shut down for the night.  The subdued hues of the moon dancing off the undulating slopes of hillocks created a perfect environment for prayer and solitude--one last questioning cry, one anguished soliloquy from Son to Father, encapsulated in one poignant question: “Is this Your will?” 

Bloody sweat drops, angelic attendance and snoring friends were the visible props of this pre-crucifixion drama. But what captured my attention was a word we don’t hear often enough: “nevertheless.”  The old King James Version uses the word in Luke 22:42 “Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done” (italics mine). Nevertheless. Never, never the less.

No word sufficiently captures the intensity and gravity of the decision Jesus was wrestling with, than the word “nevertheless.”  And broken down into three, the word adds further meaning—never, the less.  Our wills can only be less than the Father’s, and Jesus knew it.  That’s why He said in the Greek: “…but not the will of me but of you be done.”  The greater will, not the lesser, must triumph—and it did!  And history was made, salvation was offered and the gap between God and man bridged forever.  Nevertheless!

January is quickly speeding by, and 2012 is gathering speed.  For me, for you, life goes on and it’s business as usual.  The sun is up, the Morning Glories bloom and decisions are easy to make.  But every now and then they come, those hard, unrelenting situations that force painful rumination and agonizing reflection, forcing us to choose those places of solitude that would help us shut out the incessant clamour of dissonant voices and the slumbering sounds of well-meaning friends; times when we are called to make the right decision, however difficult, however painful, and my prayer, my hope for you is that you will make the right choice and that those choices will never be for the “less,” but always, always for the “more.”

Nevertheless, my friends, karpe diem, let’s seize the day!

Agapé
Pastor

Christmas day 1864, at the height of the American Civil war, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow penned these lines: “I heard the Bells on Christmas Day their old familiar carols play, and wild and sweet the words repeat of peace on earth, good will to men.”   Amidst canon ball fire, the wounding of his own son and the recent death of his wife, it seemed absurd for church bells to peal out “Peace on earth, goodwill to men.”  And Longfellow wrestled with this contradiction when he wrote: “And in despair I bowed my head: ‘There is no peace on earth,’ I said, ‘For hate is strong and mocks the song of peace on earth, good will to men.’”  And how many men and women would have joined in the cynicism of that moment, during those four bloody years of the civil war—questioning the existence of God; His role in peace and equality, right and wrong, war and peace.   And, of more relevance, if His birth could make any difference to the violent paths that humanity had chosen.

It’s thanksgiving time again this year, and how fast this year is going!  But we can’t let it go without stopping our busyness, our preoccupations, our forgetfulness or anything else for a brief while and say “Lord, how you’ve blessed me through this year, and I just want to say ‘thank you!’”

William Arthur Ward, one of the most quoted writers of inspirational maxims once wrote: “God gave you a gift of 86,400 seconds today. Have you used one to say “thank you?”
 Well, this Sunday let’s devote more than a few seconds to say that much to Him in a variety of ways; let’s approach this Sunday with joy, singing: “Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good, His love endures forever!”

The mountain rises majestically outside my office window.  Lush, green, watered by an over-indulgent monsoon.   I’m struck by its beauty, its undulating slopes, its green vegetation and the blue skies above—picturesque, just right for a postcard.  HE spoke and the world came into existence.  Just a few words—“Let there be…” and things were!

Turn with me to the gospel according to Matthew chapter 5, reading from verse 1.

“And when He saw the multitudes, He went up on the mountain; and after He sat down, His disciples came to Him and opening His mouth He began to teach them, saying, “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.  Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.  Blessed are the gentle for they shall inherit the earth, blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness for they shall be satisfied. Blessed are the merciful for they shall receive mercy, blessed are the pure in heart for they shall see God.”