Wilderness Wanderings

An extended Sunday Sermon edition of Wilderness Wanderings! The texts come from Matthew 7:7-12, from the New International Version of the Bible. Dive In discussion questions are below for further reflection! To see this sermon in the context of the worship service it comes from, find it here on YouTube. Or, head to our website to connect with the worshiping community of Immanuel CRC: immanuelministries.ca

DIVE IN QUESTIONS

1. What stands out to you from hearing these verses? Is God offering an invitation or a challenge to you through those words? Take time to pray about it.

2. Describe the Kingdom of Heaven…

3. Why do we have a hard time asking things of God (or anyone else)?

4. What is the invitation of this "ask, seek, knock" command Jesus gives?

5. In what ways might our relationship with the Father spill over into the "do unto others" of the Golden Rule (v. 12)?

6. How might you live practically in light of what you've heard this morning?

Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his name, worship the Lord in the splendour of his holiness…The Lord on his throne rules over the flood. The Lord rules from his throne as King forever. The Lord gives strength to his people. The Lord blesses his people with peace (Psalm 29:1,10-11).

Do you know the story of the dad trying to get a kiss from his daughter?

"Honey," he said, "come give Daddy a hug." To his surprise, she calmly replied, "You know I'm nine years old now. I'm busy." To which the father replied, "Do you know who gave you those Barbie dolls?"

After gathering a Barbie in both hands, she clambered into his lap and delivered a hug and a quick peck on his cheek. That light peck on the cheek just didn't make a big enough deposit in the Daddy account. "No, no, no. Come on. Give me a big hug."

That was when she rolled those big brown eyes and said, "That's the problem with you daddies." "What?" he said. "You always want too much love."

Do you sometimes feel the same about your Father in Heaven? He demands too much. Do you sometimes feel like saying after Sunday morning worship, "There, that ought to do! See you next week!"?

Psalm 29 is an invitation to stay a while longer. Its intention is not to induce guilt. This is an encouragement to take a second look at God, to linger on his lap, to stay awhile. God is not begging for our worship. He is simply worthy of it.

The song begins in heaven calling the mighty heavenly creatures to worship the Lord. From there we take a roller coaster ride through the created realm, catching the briefest of glimpses of God's wonder and power displayed in His creation.

There is no small hint of laughter in this Psalm. Many nations worshipped Baal as the god of the waters and the thunders. There's an "oh ya, really?" attitude here; a rhetorical question gleefully ringing through the skies, "Can Baal do what our God does?"

The psalm looks forward to Jesus sleeping in a boat being tossed about in a storm. His disciples are petrified, believing their doom approaches. But Jesus chuckles, telling the wind and waves to relax. He is the God of Psalm 29. With a wave of his hand, he demonstrates that He has full control.

As the psalm says, "He sits enthroned over the flood; He is enthroned as King forever" (10). This is the God who gives strength to his people; the Lord who blesses his people with peace (11).

Our circumstances change. But our peace does not depend on them. Our peace depends on the Lord, enthroned in holy majesty. As storms break upon us, He gives us strength and peace. Whatever problems we face, God is still on the throne. Its worth our time to linger on his lap.

When the voice of thunder threatens, read this psalm. Hear the voice of God. Then remember that His Voice became flesh and dwelt among us. Now, that Voice, the Son of God, beckons us to follow Him. He is still the same Lord.

This voice speaks to his disciples, "I leave my peace with you. I give my peace to you. I do not give it to you as the world does. Do not let your hearts be troubled. And do not be afraid" (John 14:27).

Shall we not stay a while longer and say, "No, it is not enough"? How can our worship ever be too much?

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

Praise the Lord. Sing to the Lord a new song, his praise in the assembly of his faithful people. Let Israel rejoice in their Maker; let the people of Zion be glad in their King. Let them praise his name with dancing and make music to him with timbrel and harp. For the Lord takes delight in his people; he crowns the humble with victory. Let his faithful people rejoice in this honor and sing for joy on their beds. May the praise of God be in their mouths and a double-edged sword in their hands, to inflict vengeance on the nations and punishment on the peoples, to bind their kings with fetters, their nobles with shackles of iron, to carry out the sentence written against them—this is the glory of all his faithful people. Praise the Lord. (Psalm 149)

This psalm takes a surprising turn, doesn't it? All is happy and well, the praise of God is on our lips and our feet our dancing—and then all of a sudden we find a sword in our hands!

There have indeed been times in the past when this psalm has served as a call to war for Christians—like the Thirty Years' War in Europe following the Reformation. Somehow the fruit of that endeavour doesn't square with Jesus' command to Peter to "put away your sword!" No, there's something else going on in this psalm that seems to echo more with sword of the Spirit, or the double edged sword of scripture: a sword that is the power of God's spoken and written word that reveals and transforms more so than an earthly military power that kills and destroys.

The faithful people of God who are given this sword are the ones that have praise on their lips and who are humble in heart. Again, resonating with the words of Jesus: these humble ones, meek in spirit, become in this psalm the very ones who "inherit the earth." How do they do it? By praising God and living faithfully according to the revelation they have been given in God's words and promises to them, I think.

There is a sense in which this psalm speaks more to the way in which God's people witness within a world that as yet remains hostile and temptuous. The militant church of Jesus Christ is a witnessing community armed with God's revealing word and the Gospel of the Word, Jesus Christ. We are armed with love, forgiveness, mercy, and grace. And indeed, nothing cuts through a person's defenses quicker than an undeserved second chance or word of forgiveness.

Telling someone how they've failed relative to the law and demanding they do better or else only plays into the shame, isolation, and guilt that already plague the world with darkness. To tell someone that they are seen for who they are, and forgiven and welcomed in nevertheless in the name of Jesus: well that's countercultural in a way that cuts people to the quick and utterly changes the conversation.

How can we keep our sword of this kind of healing, forgiving, loving grace and mercy clean and sharp, ready for battle? The sharpening stone offered by this psalm is praise. We keep our eyes fixed on Jesus and on his completed and coming work. We praise God because we have a better story, a better ruler, and we know that we are free. It's only with this kind of praise consistently on our lips that we will have the wherewithal to participate in the coming of the kingdom. Otherwise, it's too easy to turn dower, bitter, burdened down with sorrow and fatigue or to become frustrated to the point of reaching for real swords, real violence, and real methods of coercion and control. The antidote is praise. And praise, oddly enough, is also the weapon. A witness to the completely confronting counter-cultural ways of our God and his Kingdom, and "the glory of all his faithful people. Praise the Lord."

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you : wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness : protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing : at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing : once again into our doors.

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he refreshes my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name's sake. Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely, your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever (Psalm 23).

Without question, Psalm 23 lingers in a post Christian culture. While most people in North America do not read the Bible, this psalm is remembered.

There is a story about two men at a banquet who both recited Psalm 23. The first was a famous actor who knew how to hold people spellbound with a single word. He recited the psalm first and received a thunderous standing ovation.

The second was an old preacher whose voice was cracked with age. As he recited, people began checking their text massages and changing their Facebook statuses.

However, when he was finished the actor returned to the microphone and said, "The difference between this old man and me is that he knows the shepherd."

How many of us have not read through the shepherd psalm without really paying attention to the shepherd? How many have read it countless times never asking what the psalm professes? I encourage you to take time today to meditate on this psalm.

When I read it at funerals, I indicate that I read it for the living, not for the one who has died. It is a psalm for life, for living.

At some point in his life, David began to understand just how much like a shepherd God is. God's shepherding does not mean that everything will always be green pastures and quiet waters. With God as shepherd, we still pass through valleys that reek of death. But even there, God goes with us. That truth enables us to live with and for him as articulated in this paraphrase of the psalm, with images from the workplace.

"The Lord is my real boss and I shall not want. He gives me peace when chaos is all around me. He gently reminds me to pray before I speak and to do all things without murmuring and complaining. He reminds me that He is my Source and not my job. He restores my sanity everyday and guides my decisions that I might honour Him in everything I do.

"Even though I face absurd amounts of emails, system crashes, unrealistic deadlines, budget cutbacks, gossiping co-workers, discriminating supervisors and an aging body that doesn't cooperate every morning, I will not give up for He is with me!

His presence, His peace, and His power will see me through. He raises me up, even when they fail to promote me. He claims me as His own, even when the company threatens to let me go.

"His faithfulness and love are better than any bonus check. His retirement plan beats every RRSP there is! When it's all said and done, I'll be working for Him a whole lot longer and for that, I bless His Name" (Jeff Benham).

When Jesus claimed to be the 'Good Shepherd' (John 10:11), he was evoking all the images of Psalm 23. Do you know this Shepherd?

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

How long, Lord? Will you hide yourself forever? How long will your wrath burn like fire? Remember how fleeting is my life. For what futility you have created all humanity! Who can live and not see death, or who can escape the power of the grave? Lord, where is your former great love, which in your faithfulness you swore to David? Remember, Lord, how your servant has been mocked, how I bear in my heart the taunts of all the nations, the taunts with which your enemies, Lord, have mocked, with which they have mocked every step of your anointed one. Praise be to the Lord forever! Amen and Amen. (Psalm 89:46-52)

Despite the verses above, you should know that Psalm 89 is a lovely, soaring Psalm. Beautiful things are said of who God is: a God of righteousness, faithfulness, and loving kindness who has created the world, subdued all chaos, and made a covenant with his people.

The Psalm spends long verses explaining the faithfulness of the Lord. It spends long verses describing the covenant made with King David and his descendants: how even if those sons of David were unfaithful to the Old Testament law—that is, the covenant made at Saini with its Ten Commandments and other laws—how God would be faithful to his new covenant, made with David, even still. God's faithfulness is everlasting. Eternal. Nothing can break it. And God—who does not lie, the psalmist points out—made this promise to David, unconditionally, to ensure that David's line would continue forever.

But then God broke his promise.

Or at least, it sure did seem that way to the psalmist writing this song. A dramatic turn comes quite suddenly upon us as the psalmist presents us with the devastation and abandonment experienced by God's people. The psalmist demands to know: how long will this continue, Lord? Your promise to David is everlasting—so will this devastation end before the end of time? If you're faithful—it should, and soon—we human people don't live forever! The Psalmist further demands to know: where is this going to happen? Where is your former great love to be displayed? Because it certainly was not evident to the psalmist in any space he could see.

We Christian people hold on to a Christian hope of a future of life with Christ. But when our present life and situation on earth does not look like we hope it to in heaven, these questions are pertinent. It's great we have a future hope—but that doesn't mean that we can't ask God to show his love in our time and in our space. We can pray alongside the psalmist in asking: "will your kingdom not come on earth as it is in heaven so that we might see it and live in it in our times and spaces, O Lord?"

"How is it that we can say such bold things to God though?" you might wonder. Because God's own faithfulness is on the line here, that's how. And, perhaps this is exactly why Jesus came to bear out the final lines of this psalm as his own—to allow the mockery of the nations, the wrath of God, and the abandonment felt by God's people to fall on him instead. Only in the ministry of Jesus, therefore, in his death and resurrection, do we finally find an answer—God's answer—to the cries of this psalm.

But we don't live that answer of Jesus' resurrection life in fullness yet, do we? It remains only a future hope. And so in each new generation, including ours, we find that we too have to take up our cross, along with the words of this psalm, and journey together with Jesus toward our own death as we wait for God's faithfulness to be proved once again in our own time and space.

Maybe that isn't a happy end or neat resolution to this devotion. But it is where the psalm ends and indeed where Book III of the Psalter ends: by placing our petition before God—demanding that his kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven—soon—and waiting for his response. "Amen and amen."

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you : wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness : protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing : at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing : once again into our doors.

A Sunday Sermon edition of Wilderness Wanderings! The text of Matthew 7:1-6. Dive In discussion questions are below for further reflection!

To see this sermon in the context of the worship service it comes from, find it here on YouTube. Or, head to our website to connect with the worshiping community of Immanuel CRC: immanuelministries.ca

1. Consider all the reasons why we judge each other.
2. What is the main reason Jesus tells us not to judge?
3. Think of some examples in which you have seen Mr. Fix-it at work.
4. This principle is repeated by Jesus many times. Take time this week to meditate on one or two of these stories.

"One thing I ask of the Lord, this is what I seek: 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 seek him in his temple" (Psalm 27:4).

Here's a story I've told before on Wilderness Wanderings. One day while Stuart Sacks was serving as a Christian Missionary in Paraguay, a Maka Indian named Rafael came to sit on his porch. Stuart went out to see what he wanted. Rafael responded, "Ham, henek met." Again, Stuart asked what he could do for him, but the answer was the same. Stuart understood what he was saying but not its significance: "I don't want anything; I have just come near."

Later Stuart shared the incident with a local veteran missionary. He explained that it was Rafael's way of honouring him. "He really didn't want anything; he just wanted to sit on your porch. He found satisfaction and pleasure just being near you."

This is David's desire in Psalm 27. It is not that he wanted to give up being shepherd or king and become a monk. David knew that no one was allowed inside the holy of holies in the temple. That was the place God dwelt among his people and only the high priest was allowed in there, and him, only once a year after much of preparation.

But the tabernacle stood for God's presence. David wanted the pleasure and protection of unbroken communion with God in His house. What is our ambition in life today? Is it to get rich? Is it to make a name for ourselves? To live a stress-free life? To survive another day? Is it to do some wonderful thing for God? The highest desire that can possess any human heart is a longing to see God.

Jesus taught us that there would be a day when we could experience that reality. It came with Him. God no longer has an address on this earth. The universe is His and He is everywhere. We live in the presence of God all the time, even if we forget. Through the Holy Spirit, Jesus is with us wherever we are.

I think that David desires more than just to be in the presence of God. He wants to gaze on his beauty and to seek him. Like many other psalms, this one comes from a place of trial and tribulation. Enemies are surrounding him; it is easy to be afraid. Our world is not a safe place either. Jesus tells us not to worry. The solution for worry is to look at our heavenly Father. Trust in God is built by paying attention to him.

The most challenging words in this psalm are the little three letter ones, "one," and "all." "One thing, only one, I have asked from the Lord," David says. "I am no double minded man. I don't want to love God and love the world too. If the Lord will grant this one request, then he may deny me everything else and I will still be happy. I am single minded in my longing."

Rich Mullins left us this prayer: "Save us from those things that might distract us. Please take them away and purify our hearts. We don't want to lose the eternal for the things that are passing. What will we have when the world is gone, if it isn't for the love that goes on and on with our one thing? You're our one thing. The pure in heart shall see God" (My One Thing).

It is good to be near God. May "Ham, henek met" be the desire of our hearts! But also, this, "Let us keep looking to Jesus. He is the one who started this journey of faith. And he is the one who completes the journey of faith…" (Hebrews 12:2).

What one thing can you do to see God more clearly? Practice looking at him when all is well. That way, when troubles come, it will be natural to turn towards him, to sit in his presence, and receive his peace.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

Vindicate me, LORD, for I have led a blameless life; I have trusted in the LORD and have not faltered. Test me, LORD, and try me, examine my heart and my mind; for I have always been mindful of your unfailing love and have lived in reliance on your faithfulness. (Psalm 26:1-3)

This Psalm—like any number of others—gives us pause. Who of us would dare say such a thing to God?

But while it might seem strange in ordinary times, there are situations that crop up in our lives where it's not: like in the face of a tragic death, a betrayal in a close relationship, or the cancer word. In those situations, we might quite naturally find ourselves crying out to God, asking what it is that we have done to deserve such pain and suffering being thrust into our lives. These kind of prayers are ways of praying in the vein of Psalm 26.

Some events and realities in our lives are bigger than us—out of our control. Perhaps more of them than we might think—or like—to list. And when we realize our lack of control, we realize that we have need of God. A God who can save us. Or, in unfair or unjust situations: a God who can judge rightly and vindicate us—which is salvation all the same.

This psalm is a prayer prayed in the face of an evil world that dishes out things that we do not deserve and cannot solve on our own strength. And this is a psalm that does what it says: that relies on God fully and solely for vindication and salvation.

It strikes me more often that this is exactly the life Jesus lived. Even though he had all the power and ability to control on his side, he did not wield it against his oppressors—the Sanhedrin and Romans that condemned and crucified him. He could have saved himself, but he did not. He could have appealed to his popularity and the masses who supported him to stage a coup, but he did not. He could have vindicated himself, but he did not. Instead, he gave up his power and control, humbled himself, and submitted himself and his case to the just judgement of God the Father—the one who holds the power of final judgement and the right to overturn human verdicts. God the Father took up the appeal, vindicating Jesus by raising him from the dead on the third day, proving Jesus' innocence and righteousness in the process.

This is the Jesus that we trust in: the Jesus whose life, righteousness, and vindication have become our own. As we continue to rely on his vindication and salvation, we remain connected with the reality of things. We need God, our life is a gift from God, and God's invitation is that our life be lived in congruence with the righteousness of Christ that we have received from God.

We cannot control the events or realities that we face in this world, but when health scares or unjust events crash into our lives, we can entrust ourselves to the God who, in Christ, has saved us and who will continue to save us.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you : wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness : protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing : at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing : once again into our doors.

In you, Lord my God, I put my trust…Show me your ways, Lord, teach me your paths (Psalm 25:1,4).

The psalms of the Old Testament are the church's prayer book. This doesn't mean that these are the only prayers or songs we offer, but that we allow them to be our prayer teachers. They will teach us how to pray the Lord's Prayer, "Our Father who is in heaven..."

Many psalms come out of the depths of broken, harassed, or desperate hearts. They seem to explode out of the psalmist; we can feel their pathos and desperation. Others, like Psalm 25, are more deliberate; they have been brooded over and carefully constructed.

This psalm has 22 verses. It is an acrostic, meaning that each verse begins with a successive letter of the Hebrew alphabet. This prayer is not offered "off the cuff'. It comes to us only after careful meditated crafting. We often think that praying needs to be spontaneous. That is an illusion. The psalter teaches us that a prayer which is thought out and stylistic is as spiritual and effective as spontaneous expressions of the heart.

I have found that praying along with saints long deceased helps expand the content of my prayers. It is very easy for our prayers to shrink to the narrow confines of our own lives. Listening to and praying along with others (even those no longer on this earth) can help us discover the depth and breath of Jesus' prayer "your kingdom come".

Psalm 25 comes out of a time of trouble; thus, it is not prayed with a smile or exuberant joy and certainly not with a detached indifference. In this season of anguish, the psalmist explores what it means to lift up our souls to the Lord (1).

So, what can we learn about "lifting up our hearts to the Lord" from this prayer? We notice that significant parts of the psalm reflect on the "way of the Lord." This pray-er believes that the way of the Lord is the right way to live and therefore wants to learn how to live it. He recognizes that there are different ways to live. He doesn't necessarily know God's way, so he wants to learn. Trusting in God and lifting our souls up to Him means that we seek to walk in His ways.

I wonder how many of us respond to adversity this way. It might not have been the psalmist's first response either. Yet, as she wrestled with the troubles she faced, she came to that space where this became the desire of the heart. Maybe you have had that experience too. Our first reaction to stress is "Get rid of it, God". But as we wrestled in prayer, the Spirit brought us to a place in which obedience became our primary desire.

Such movement in prayer brings with it a recognition that we have not always followed God's ways. It may even be that some of the psalmist's current problems have arisen because of disobedience. So, what does he do? Does he try to hide this reality? No. He confesses it and asks the Lord to forgive. Forgiveness is possible because in His love, the Lord forgives.

Trusting in the Lord does not mean instant success. The psalmist has staked his life on doing life God's way. If he goes down in defeat, he will experience public shame. He fears that shame even though he knows that in the end God will be proven to be right.

In the long run, God will set His people secure in the land (13). Jesus makes a similar statement: "Blessed are the meek for they will inherit the earth" (Matthew 5:5). We recognize this may not happen until the new heavens and the new earth. Are we willing to live in obedience to God until that time?

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you: wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness: protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing; at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing once again into our doors.

A different angle on growing and fruit today...

Three days later Jeroboam and all the people returned to Rehoboam, as the king had said, "Come back to me in three days." The king answered the people harshly. Rejecting the advice given him by the elders, he followed the advice of the young men and said, "My father made your yoke heavy; I will make it even heavier. My father scourged you with whips; I will scourge you with scorpions." So the king did not listen to the people, for this turn of events was from the Lord, to fulfill the word the Lord had spoken to Jeroboam son of Nebat through Ahijah the Shilonite. When all Israel saw that the king refused to listen to them, they answered the king: "What share do we have in David, what part in Jesse's son? To your tents, Israel! Look after your own house, David!" So the Israelites went home. (1 Kings 12:12-16)

Three times in this longer passage, King Solomon's son, Rehoboam, is said to have listened to the advice of the "young men" he grew up with, rather than the advice of the elders or the cries of the people. Interestingly, neither King Rehoboam nor those men he grew up with would've been understood in that day to have been "young." 1 Kings 14:21 says Rehoboam was 41 years old when he became king. Given the life expectancy of the day: he was certainly no spring chicken. Besides, the word for "young men" employed here in the Hebrew is a word which is translated in most other places in the Old Testament as "child" or "boy." The reference, therefore, seems to be to the immaturity of these men, rather than their age.

Interestingly, the only use of this word for "child" or "young man" before this in the book of Kings is from the story of Solomon's wise judgement when he said to two prostitutes fighting over a living baby "cut the living child in two and give half to one and half to the other." After he said this, the true mother backed off of her claim to the child, saying: "Please, my lord, giver her the living baby! Don't kill him!" while the other women exclaimed: "Neither I nor you shall have him. Cut him in two!"

Somehow the story of the living child being cut in two is evoked in the telling of Rehoboam's immaturity. I think the author means to suggest that the words of Solomon's own ruling have come back as a judgement against his own house. Would Solomon and Rehoboam his son yield the living child of Israel to it's true parent, God, or would they seek to make this people into a kingdom for themselves, claiming it all for their own? They do the latter. And so the child—the nation—is killed, cut in two. Not that the nation died immediately—but what begins here eventually leads to their destruction and exile.

The Rabbis said that Solomon was the worst of the Kings of Israel because he was the one who caused this division. He caused it because he did not "seek first God's kingdom." Instead, he built his own. Nor did he "Seek first God's righteousness." Solomon loved many foreign wives who brought their gods, which he worshiped. Israel as a nation is often depicted as an unfaithful spouse that prostitutes itself after all sorts of other gods besides the Lord. Solomon was the first such idolatrous prostitute among the Kings. Immature despite his wisdom, he was the pagan who "ran after" all the things of this world, and so his heart, like his kingdom, became divided.

The fruit then of Solomon's house and Solomon's idolatrous prostitution is embodied in Rehoboam: a violent, selfish immaturity that results in the cutting of God's people in two. This is the same violent, selfish immaturity displayed in the prostitute who was not the true mother of the child. It is the same violent, selfish immaturity displayed by Pharoah as he ruthlessly worked the Israelites as slaves in Egypt.

Immaturity and selfishness leads to idolatry, violence, and division. It leads to the destruction of faith and life. The invitation to us, therefore, is to grow up into Christ: to become mature. The prophet Samuel, King David, and Jesus himself all offer examples of what this "growing up to maturity" looks like.

But perhaps the best word is the word from Jesus' sermon on the mount covered this past week as he too draws on this history of Solomon. Rather than Solomon who sought his own kingdom, pleasures, and splendor—we are called to "seek first the Father's kingdom and his righteousness," trusting the Father's promise that everything needful will come.

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you : wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness : protect you through the storm. May he bring you home rejoicing : at the wonders he has shown you. May he bring you home rejoicing : once again into our doors.