Cloyce Sutton Online

Reflections on spiritual themes (and a few other things).

Page 15 of 15

“Show Him Your Hands”

My mother was not a theologian. Nor would anyone confuse her for an intellectual. I never remember her reading much. She would read her Bible, and she always worked her Bible class lessons. She looked at various housekeeping and craft magazines. She worked her nightly word search puzzles. But, she was not bookish. 

Mom was a resourceful, talented, and meticulous woman. She took pride in her home, in maintaining and decorating it. She enjoyed gardening, and gave special attention to her rose bushes. She canned vegetables every summer for years. She was an accomplished seamstress and quilter who taught all her daughters (and one son) how to sew. She enjoyed entertaining people, and frequently had large groups of people into her home for meals.

Mom was always neat and well dressed. She kept the house in meticulous order. She had cabinets, closets and shelves in abundance. Every item in the house had its own place. The house was filled with knick-knacks, but there was a neatness and orderliness that was unmistakable. The woman even kept the original box for every small appliance she owned!

One thing I remember about both Mom and her mother, Grandma Carman, was that they were always busy. Neither of them was idle. Both worked hard and long each day of their lives. Even when they sat down, they were often busy with their hands — shelling peas, sewing a hem, or making a shopping list. I don’t know any women who worked harder, and who never complained about their work. Their work was part of their identity.

Shortly after Mom died, Dad related a story about her that greatly resonated with me. Once He and Mom were talking about spiritual matters (probably when all of us children were still young). They turned their attention to heaven, and, in a moment of self-doubt, she asked Dad, “When I meet Jesus, what will I give to him?” Dad’s gentle reply was, “Show him your hands.”

The sage said of the virtuous woman, “She looks for wool and flax, and works with her hands in delight… She girds herself with strength, and makes her arms strong… She stretches out her hands to the distaff, and her hands grasp the spindle… She extends her hand to the poor, and she stretches out her hands to the needy… She looks well to the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness… Give her the product of her hands, and let her works praise her in the gates” (Proverbs 31.13, 17, 19, 20, 27, 31).

The Lord has seen my mother’s hands.

Sub-stan-ti-al Food

When I was still at home, family travels were always a lengthy affair. We had exactly five destinations: (1) Grandma Carman in the St Louis area, a five hour drive, which also meant Mom’s side of the family and some of Dad’s. (2) My sister Linda and her husband Mac in Kansas City, about 10 or 11 hours away. (3) Granny Sutton in Flint, Michigan, light years away. (4) My brother Phil in Memphis, about an hour away. And, (5) my sister Deena and her husband Freddie in Forrest City, Arkansas, a 2-hour drive.

On trips #4 and #5, food was never an issue. We didn’t eat in the car and we didn’t stop to eat. I don’t recall being allowed to eat in the car, unless Mom packed a meal. We learned, on shorter trips, to swallow our spit.

On trips #1, #2, and #3, we stopped only when we had to fill up the gas tank. But ancient cars like our ‘70 Impala had 25-gallon tanks, which meant we never had to stop for gas (and thus for food).

But when we did finally stop for food, we would pass by McDonald’s, Wendy’s, Hardee’s, Burger King, Dairy Queen and at least 12 other perfectly good eateries in search of Dad’s ultimate culinary quest: “substantial food.” 

The kids would be begging: “Dad, there’s a restaurant!” “Dad, a McDonald’s!” “Look! A Wendy’s!” 

Swift came the reply: “I want a place that serves sub-stan-ti-al food,” he would say, carefully pronouncing the key word. 

Thus we would drive as far off the highway as we had been on it. We would meander through towns and suburbs, winding up in seedy places, dimly lit, in the far recesses of these villages, crowded with common folk like us. 

There were never any other children in sight. Apparently they had been offered in the pagan temples of “Substantial.” It didn’t matter to me. In my teen pride and rebellion, I always ordered a cheeseburger no matter where we went. 

Dad’s ultimate quest for substantial food reached its zenith 1985. He, Mom, and Linda all came to visit me in Kansas. While there, they took a day trip out to western Kansas. When they got back, Dad was positively radiant. Somewhere near Dodge City, he saw a billboard for a small local eatery that promised “Substantial Food.” 

As he described the glorious billboard, I thought I heard in the background faint echoes of smallish people singing, “Follow the yellow brick road.” For a few moments, Dad had found Oz.

What Can God Do With Rocks?

Scripture speaks often of the power of God. Perhaps no more simple an illustration of Divine power can be given than the lowly stone. God himself is called a rock, calling to mind his steadfastness, strength, and protection. “The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge; my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold” (Psalm 18.2). “Be to me a rock of habitation to which I may continually come; You have given commandment to save me, For You are my rock and my fortress” (Psalm 71.3).

The Scriptures also speak often of what God has done to the rocks in demonstration of his power. “Mountains quake because of Him and the hills dissolve; Indeed the earth is upheaved by His presence, the world and all the inhabitants in it. Who can stand before His indignation? Who can endure the burning of His anger? His wrath is poured out like fire and the rocks are broken up by Him” (Nahum 1.5f). 

As he reviewed Israel’s wilderness experience, Moses praised God for his miraculous and generous provisions: “He made him ride on the high places of the earth, and he ate the produce of the field; and He made him suck honey from the rock, and oil from the flinty rock” (Deuteronomy 32.13). Nehemiah similarly praised God for his provisions, saying, “You provided bread from heaven for them for their hunger, You brought forth water from a rock for them for their thirst” (Nehemiah 9.15; cf. Psalm 78.15f; 114.8). 

Asaph contrasted God’s faithfulness with Israel’s waywardness by reminding them yet again of God’s gracious promises: “…Open your mouth wide and I will fill it… But I would feed you with finest of the wheat, and with honey from the rock I would satisfy you” (Psalm 81.10, 15). 

John the Baptist rebuked the arrogance of the Pharisees by reminding them that God would be glorified with or without their obedience. “…And do not suppose that you can say to yourselves, ‘We have Abraham for our father’; for I say to you that from these stones God is able to raise up children to Abraham” (Matthew 3.9; cf. Luke 3.8). 

Jesus himself rebuked that same mentality when, during his final and triumphal entry into Jerusalem, the Pharisees criticized His disciples among the crowd who openly praised him as the coming King. He replied: “I tell you, if these become silent, the stones will cry out!” (Luke 19.40).

The Almighty intends by these assertions of his power to impress upon all creation, both believer and unbeliever, that the power which spoke into existence the stones, rocks, and mountains, is the same power which can transform our lives. If he can bring forth from the rocks life-giving water, he can surely bring forth in our hearts the living water of his Spirit (John 7.37ff). He who satisfied their thirst in the wilderness with water from the rock can surely satisfy the soul’s deepest thirst with his abiding presence (Psalm 42.2; 63.1; 1 Corinthians 10.4). The Lord who is the fountain of living water (Jeremiah 2.13) can, from the broken cisterns of our sinful lives, satisfy us with righteousness beyond what we can draw ourselves (Matthew 5.6). 

This Lord who could bring honey from rock with which to satisfy a multitude is the same Lord who himself is bread from Heaven that gives us everlasting life if we but believe (John 6.31-40). He who could bring such sweetness from the stones can surely bring forth the fruit of his Spirit from hearts tainted by sin and carnality (Galatians 5.16-25). 

Finally, the Lord who could from dead stones raise unto himself living witnesses is the same Lord who can by the power of his word (Isaiah 55.10ff) transform us from unbelieving and rebellious enemies into submissive and humble servants. And if he can transform us into his people, he can surely do it unto others (1 Peter 2.4-8). We rely so much upon methods and messengers, as if these are the essence of conversion, that we often forget that it is his limitless power, vested in his eternal word, that makes us into the living stones that comprise his holy temple. 

May God help us learn to trust him as the source of unimaginable power, and his word as the fount of unending life. May we learn to find shelter and strength in him who is our Lord, our Rock, and our Redeemer.

“But God”

The title above may be the most encouraging phrase in our language. My friend Rennie Frazier often mentions this phrase in his preaching. He reminds his audience of its hopefulness. The word “but” is always an adversative. It tells us that an exception to some previous assertion is about to be made. The phrase “But God…” occurs 41 times in the Scriptures, the majority of which refer to some great blessing the Lord has given his people in contrast to their present circumstances. 

Sometimes, however, the phrase indicates God’s displeasure. A passage may describe a sinful act or condition; “But God” indicates divine disapproval. As Stephen reviewed the history of Israel’s disobedience, he spends a fair amount in his speech reminding his audience of Israel’s persistent refusal to follow Moses. Making the golden calf was the pinnacle of their unbelief. “But God turned away” (Acts 7.42) was the divine response. When men will not obey, they will suffer the spiritual consequences imposed by God himself. 

The Pharisees scoffed at Jesus’ warnings, in an attempt to excuse their own self-righteousness. “But God knows your hearts” Jesus warned (Luke 16.15). However deluded men may be about their spirituality, God knows better. 

The wicked may be proud of their immorality and lies, “But God” promises to destroy them (Psalm 52.5). None are immune to the judgments of God. 

However, the God who judges us is the same God who justifies us. He who condemns the proud also vindicates and forgives the humble. When we are confronted by our sins, we despair — until God steps in, offering pardon and healing. From this we derive our hope. 

In the wake of Jesus’ crucifixion, when all seemed lost, when God’s purposes appeared to be thwarted by the wicked schemes of men, hope appeared. Jesus was “nailed to a cross by the hands of Godless men… But God raised him up” (Acts 2.23f; cf 13.30). What seemed to be defeat became victory.

When the human condition seemed hopeless, when sin seemed overwhelming, and when men were helpless to solve their problems, God reached out to man. Because of sin, men were dead, disobedient, destined for wrath. “But God, being rich in mercy, because of his great love with which he loved us… made us alive” (Ephesians 2.41). However unworthy and unlovable men may have been, God’s love was greater still: “But God demonstrates his own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5.8). 

When we feel overwhelmed by our circumstances, inadequate to handle temptation, grief, uncertainty, and loss, God offers his help. Paul said he “had no rest” but was “afflicted on every side: conflicts without, fears within. But God, who comforts the depressed, comforted us” (2 Corinthians 7.51). God’s comfort conquers our fears. 

When others judge us as unworthy; when others question our soundness and integrity; when others falsely accuse; our vindication comes from God. When Paul was accused of flattery, of pretext, of error, impurity, and deceit, he looked to God. “But just as we have been approved by God to be entrusted with the gospel, so we speak, not as pleasing men, but God who examines our hearts” (1 Thessalonians 2.4). Our hope is in the One who knows us better than we know ourselves. 

When the boo-birds of pessimism and the watchdogs of suspicion create doubt about the wellbeing of the church; when all appears to be lost; when good men are slandered, and their integrity assailed; remember, it is God who judges and justifies. The success and growth of the kingdom depends ultimately upon God, not men. “So then, neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but God who causes the growth” (1 Corinthians 3.6f).

Brothers and sisters, we live in a hard world. But God makes a difference! 

Now Thank We All Our God

The “Thirty Years’ War” (1618-1648) was a devastating European conflict centered in what’s now Germany. It began as a power struggle between Protestant and Catholic forces within the Holy Roman Empire, but spread among various factions throughout Europe, eventually drawing in much of Central Europe, including Spanish, Swedish, French, Dutch, Croatian, Hungarian, Prussian and other forces. Entire regions were destroyed when marauding armies looted and plundered the villages they conquered, and in the process, consumed and destroyed land, crops and cattle. 

The human toll was staggering. It’s estimated that half the male population of Germany died, as well as 15-30% of the total population. Some areas lost between half and three-quarters of their populations. Thousands of castles and towns were destroyed, as well as tens of thousands of villages. Some towns took a century to recover from their losses; others disappeared forever. Disease aggravated all of this. Epidemics of bubonic plague, scurvy, dysentery, and typhus killed thousands, perhaps millions.

From this miasma of death, disease, and destruction emerged Martin Rinkart (1586-1649), a German clergyman. Rinkart spent most of his life in Eilenburg, Saxony (near modern Leipzig in eastern Germany). The son of a poor cooper, he attended the Latin School in Eilenburg. At 15, he became a scholar and chorister at St Thomas’ School in Leipzig, which enabled him to study theology at the University of Leipzig beginning in 1602. In 1610 he became master of the gymnasium in Eisleben and cantor of St Nicholas Church. In 1611 he became Deacon of St Anne’s Church where he remained for two years. From 1613-1617 he was pastor at Erdeborn and Lyttichendorf (Lütjendorf), near Eisleben, after which he moved to Eilenburg, where he remained until his death in 1649. 

He was appointed Archdeacon in 1617, and was one of four pastors in Eilenburg at the beginning of 1637. As a walled city, Eilenburg was frequently the destination for refugees in the region. It suffered greatly during the Thirty Years’ War, but, to make matters worse, the Plague swept through the region and city in 1637. One pastor, the superintendent, left for healthier climes. Rinkart officiated at the funerals of the other two. His wife died in May of that year. At times, 30-40 people could be seen in the streets of the city fighting over dead cats and crows in hopes of finding food. About 8,000 people died from the plague, mostly that year, and Rinkart officiated at the funerals of over 4,000 of them, sometimes for as many as 40-50 people per day. By the end of the year, they simply dug trenches and buried people en masse with no funeral services. 

In 1638, a wave of marriages swept over the town, as citizens attempted to rebuild their lives. Rinkart officiated most of these, and he himself remarried in June. Soon afterward, a severe drought struck the area, which strained Rinkart’s own resources. During this same time span, Rinkart was able to spare the city from attacks by Swiss forces in 1637 and again in 1639. Despite his extraordinary service, he was harassed in his final years by local officials who had little appreciation for all he had done. 

Rinkart was a prolific hymnist and around this time, probably in 1636, he wrote what became his most well-known hymn, “Now Thank We All Our God.” Regardless of when it was written, it dates to this general period of war and disease. Some think it began as a table prayer he used with his family at mealtime. The words are humble and thoughtful, especially in view of what we know of Rinkart and his times.

Now thank we all our God, with heart and hands and voices,
Who wondrous things has done, in Whom this world rejoices;
Who from our mothers’ arms has blessed us on our way
With countless gifts of love, and still is ours today.
O may this bounteous God through all our life be near us,
With ever joyful hearts and blessed peace to cheer us;
And keep us in His grace, and guide us when perplexed;
And free us from all ills, in this world and the next!
All praise and thanks to God the Father now be given;
The Son and Him Who reigns with Them in highest Heaven;
The one eternal God, whom earth and Heaven adore;
For thus it was, is now, and shall be evermore.

It’s difficult to imagine the level of hardship that a man such as Rinkart endured. It’s equally hard to read the lyrics of this simple hymn and fully grasp the contentment and gratitude it expresses. 

The truest measure of gratitude comes not when our pantries, plates, wallets, bank accounts, and garages are full, but when they’re empty. Can we be grateful and content when we lack these things? “If we have food and covering, with these we shall be content” (1 Timothy 6.8). I once heard a church member comment on this text saying, “Well, I just think it would be a whole lot easier to be content if a person was rich.” 

May God help me be less like that and more like Rinkart.

Hey!

Thanks for stopping by my blog!

I write mostly short articles about biblical and spiritual things. Occasionally my interest in other things will show up – walking, hiking, travel, restaurants, sports, photography, gardening, reading, grandchildren, etc.

I’ll also occasionally drop in some lengthier essays and specialty papers, all related to biblical studies.

Feel free to contact me or leave comments, although I ask that you respect the bounds of propriety and decency. Think “G-Rated.”

I’ll add stuff periodically, sometimes in large batches as I transfer older files to this new location. If you have any specific topics or studies in mind, let me know. I don’t promise that anything will come of it (it may be too deep for me!), but I’ll certainly consider it.

In Christ alone,

Cloyce

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