Reading Malachi this morning, found myself amongst the priests that the Lord rebukes.
A son honors his father, and a servant his master. If then I am a father, where is my honor? And if I am a master, where is my fear? says the LORD of hosts to you, O priests, who despise my name. But you say, ‘How have we despised your name?’ By offering polluted food upon my altar. But you say, ‘How have we polluted you?’ By saying that the LORD’s table may be despised. When you offer blind animals in sacrifice, is that not evil? And when you offer those that are lame or sick, is that not evil? Present that to your governor; will he accept you or show you favor? says the LORD of hosts. (Malachi 1.6-8)
How often do I offer the easy sacrifices? How often do I give what has little value to me? My prayers are so often offered when convenient, my devotion when I'm not too tired, my tithes when I think about them. When have I offered that which really cost me something (2 Sam 24.24)?
The prophet does not leave me there. There is a fearful hope on the horizon.
And the Lord whom you seek will suddenly come to his temple; and the messenger of the covenant in whom you delight, behold, he is coming, says the LORD of hosts. But who can endure the day of his coming, and who can stand when he appears? For he is like a refiner’s fire and like fullers’ soap. He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver, and he will purify the sons of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, and they will bring offerings in righteousness to the LORD. Then the offering of Judah and Jerusalem will be pleasing to the LORD as in the days of old and as in former years. (Malachi 3.1-4)
I cannot stand when he appears- I could not endure the day of his coming. Yet he purifies the priests- he purifies me. And in him my sacrifices become acceptable, 'pleasing to the Lord as in the days of old'. That is good news, and encourages me to press on towards greater sacrifice. Not because greater sacrifice can save me; the Greater Sacrifice already has. I desire to offer better sacrifices simply because he again has shown himself worthy of them.
Lord, teach me to worship you in discipline, and in sacrifice- not that I might earn your favor, but in response to the favor already lavished on me. I am grateful, Lord, for that favor.
Tuesday, November 18, 2014
Saturday, November 8, 2014
The Temple Torn Down
The temple in Jerusalem was first built in the 10th century bc, and was immediately filled with the tangible glory of God; it was destroyed by the Babylonians in 586bc, in response to the continuing sins of Judah. This destruction, along with the exile of the nation, was seen by Israel as the rejection of God's people by God Himself.
The temple was rebuilt by the Jews returning from exile in 415bc by order of the Persian king Cyrus, but it was never the same. The glory of the Lord was gone, and could not be recalled. The temple was later renovated by Herod the Great (renowned for his passion for architecture and building projects) and stood in renewed splendor in the time of Jesus. It was this temple, the renewed, extravagant temple, at which the disciples marveled, and to which the disciples drew Jesus's attention. It was this temple that Jesus promised would be destroyed, without one stone left upon another, as occurs forty years later. Jesus was not concerned about this temple, because He understood that, in the fullness of God's plan, God would now dwell with man in a different way. God was walking with man, as a man, and would soon be present by His Spirit in men's hearts. Jesus understood that temple was not the point, that it was a sign: a sign to point to the greater place of God's presence and favor, the one filled with His glory and yet torn down for the sins of His people. Even the temple, the center of the Jewish faith, would fade away. Another center of worship would be provided.
I think the modern charismatic church has built itself a temple out of the emotional experience of God. Many of us have experienced a joy that overcomes us, a peace that is overwhelming. Many of us have sat in worship and received visions, scriptures, words. Many of us have, at the high points of emotional prayer, seen miracles or been blessed with moments of faith so strong we thought they would never fade. And yet they do, and life continues, seemingly without glory, without the presence of the Lord.
I think we make the emotional experience of God into a temple when we begin to believe that we will not meet with the Lord unless we return to that place. Unless worship lifts us out of ourselves, unless we get 'filled up', 'recharged', then we remain distant from the Lord. We're missing out. And so, when we try to make worship feel glory-filled and it doesn't, we analyze and we despair. Something is absent. The temple is torn down. Have we done something wrong? Has the Lord left us?
Yes, we have done something wrong. We have put our faith in an experience and not in the love of the Lord. But has the Lord left us? Most assuredly, no. He may indeed be tearing down our temple, but it is so that we might see that to which it pointed all along. Our peace with God, our nearness to Him, His attentiveness to our prayers- these are not products of our experience, but of His love. Not products of our perceiving, but of His willing. He is the place of our worship, with or without walls, with or without emotion. And that's good news, because He promises never to leave. He has been rebuilt in splendor, never again to be torn down. There is a new center to our worship of the Lord, and it is not our emotion. It is our God Himself, incarnate and with His people even now, regardless of our broken perception of it.
The temple was rebuilt by the Jews returning from exile in 415bc by order of the Persian king Cyrus, but it was never the same. The glory of the Lord was gone, and could not be recalled. The temple was later renovated by Herod the Great (renowned for his passion for architecture and building projects) and stood in renewed splendor in the time of Jesus. It was this temple, the renewed, extravagant temple, at which the disciples marveled, and to which the disciples drew Jesus's attention. It was this temple that Jesus promised would be destroyed, without one stone left upon another, as occurs forty years later. Jesus was not concerned about this temple, because He understood that, in the fullness of God's plan, God would now dwell with man in a different way. God was walking with man, as a man, and would soon be present by His Spirit in men's hearts. Jesus understood that temple was not the point, that it was a sign: a sign to point to the greater place of God's presence and favor, the one filled with His glory and yet torn down for the sins of His people. Even the temple, the center of the Jewish faith, would fade away. Another center of worship would be provided.
I think the modern charismatic church has built itself a temple out of the emotional experience of God. Many of us have experienced a joy that overcomes us, a peace that is overwhelming. Many of us have sat in worship and received visions, scriptures, words. Many of us have, at the high points of emotional prayer, seen miracles or been blessed with moments of faith so strong we thought they would never fade. And yet they do, and life continues, seemingly without glory, without the presence of the Lord.
I think we make the emotional experience of God into a temple when we begin to believe that we will not meet with the Lord unless we return to that place. Unless worship lifts us out of ourselves, unless we get 'filled up', 'recharged', then we remain distant from the Lord. We're missing out. And so, when we try to make worship feel glory-filled and it doesn't, we analyze and we despair. Something is absent. The temple is torn down. Have we done something wrong? Has the Lord left us?
Yes, we have done something wrong. We have put our faith in an experience and not in the love of the Lord. But has the Lord left us? Most assuredly, no. He may indeed be tearing down our temple, but it is so that we might see that to which it pointed all along. Our peace with God, our nearness to Him, His attentiveness to our prayers- these are not products of our experience, but of His love. Not products of our perceiving, but of His willing. He is the place of our worship, with or without walls, with or without emotion. And that's good news, because He promises never to leave. He has been rebuilt in splendor, never again to be torn down. There is a new center to our worship of the Lord, and it is not our emotion. It is our God Himself, incarnate and with His people even now, regardless of our broken perception of it.
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