How God knows what's in my heart (church bulletin cover)

What would God do if He wanted to know what was in my heart? Stories in the Bible indicate that He'd likely test me by sending a few challenges my way. Deuteronomy 8:2 days that God led His children for 40 years in a wilderness in order to humble them, "testing you to know what was in your heart, whether you would keep His commandments or not."

That doesn't always look very nice. Deuteronomy 8:3 says that God let His people hunger. In other words, these tests weren't mild experiences. Sometimes I've come down a little hard on the Israelites for their bad attitudes and harsh words toward Moses when they wanted food or water. But would I have handled it any better?

Take Numbers 20:2-10 for example. It starts by saying, "Now there was no water for the congregation." What if God used me as a leader to lead you (along with 2-3 million other people) to where the ground was parched and you couldn't find any water for your children or yourselves (not to mention the many livestock the Israelites had)? Would you take kindly to that? The Israelites "assembled themselves together against Moses and against Aaron" and they quarreled with them. They wished themselves dead (20:3) and called the place they'd been led to an "evil place" compared to Egypt (20:5). This wasn't because they had no ice in their iced tea, or because they had to wear mitts and toques for an extra couple weeks of winter. It looks as though it was because their situation must have felt truly desperate.

And yet Moses called them "rebels" (20:10). Rebels because they didn't believe God no matter what the circumstances. Rebels because they complained about their hardships rather than praying for help. And rebels because they thought their old captivity was better than God's way out. So now we know what was in the hearts of the children of Israel. Does that leave me any closer to knowing what's in mine?

I have to wonder how much God tests me in similar ways, and how much God actually allows challenges in my life to become truly extreme simply to see what's in my heart, and whether I'll keep His commandments or not. If we look back at Deuteronomy 8, we can see where this is all meant to lead: It was the Lord who "led you through the great and terrifying wilderness... where there was no water, who brought you water out of the flinty rock, who fed you in the wilderness with manna... that He might humble you and test you, to do you good in the end" (8:15-16).

What are you going through? Is it a test? May I suggest that all of life is meant to test what's in our hearts, and that amidst both the everyday challenges and the experiences of God's faithfulness, God's desire is to do us good! And the good that He does for us will include a growing humility in our hearts as we look to Him and give Him glory in all that we go through and for all that we receive from His hand.

© 2009 by Ken Peters

Pithometer / pith’-ō-mē-tər / (n) : an instrument for assessing pithy remarks. Today’s remark: “We’re human beings, not human doings!”

I’ve heard it said – and I think I’ve said it myself – that we are human beings, not human doings. That little phrase is usually mentioned when someone feels they’re experiencing a sense of drivenness in their activities and tasks. Among Christians, it’s a cry from those who feel they’ve lost their sense of rest in God – as though they’re only finding joy in what they do for Him rather than from who they are in Christ.

I have absolutely no difficulty understanding what it’s like to get caught up in the momentum of busyness as though I were mistakenly measuring my significance by what I do. As a Christian, I’ve made the futile mistake of trying to do stuff in an effort to better be in Christ. But the Bible clearly indicates that there’s a proper order for such things. We’re to be in Christ so that we can then do what He calls us to! But I’m still uneasy with addressing such struggles by saying, “We’re human beings, not human doings.”

I think that’s because, rather than setting an order to things, this pithy remark forces me to choose between two valid aspects of the Christian life. Not only that, but it complicates my choice by using terminology that makes the latter option sound ridiculous. Of course I’m not a “human doing.” But rejecting that label then suggests a rejection of, or at the very least, a minimization of the idea of doing.

Doing, though, is an essential part of the Christian life. Without doing, we can’t even call ourselves Christians! Jesus asked, “Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord,’ and not do what I tell you?” (Luke 6:46). Jesus later said, “My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and do it” (Luke 8:21). Jesus is big on believing in who He is and on knowing Him in a personal way. But He is also not afraid to demand obedience of those who say they know Him.

Other writers of the New Testament obviously felt the same. In writing to the church in Thessalonica, Paul said, “And we have confidence in the Lord about you, that you are doing and will do the things that we command” (2 Thessalonians 3:4). Notice Paul didn’t say, “…that you are being and will be...” It’s not that Paul didn’t care about them being in Christ. In the very next sentence, Paul directs his readers to the “steadfastness of Christ” because he knew that it was only by being in Jesus that they would have the strength to obey. But Paul also knew that if who they were in Christ wasn’t expressed by their actions – by doing – then who they claimed to be in Christ wouldn’t be genuine. James warns us to: “be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves” (James 1:22).

So let’s dispense with the unnecessary polarization of two vital virtues that are actually meant to go together, in the right order, rather than pitted against each other. As Paul said: “So, as those who have been chosen of God, holy and beloved [start with being], put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience [continue with doing]” (Colossians 3:12).

See what I’ve previously written on being.

See what I’ve previously written on doing.

© 2009 by Ken Peters

Enjoying God's Love (church bulletin cover)

Why is it that we can sometimes get nervous when doing something for God in a public context. Has that ever happened to you? Perhaps you've been asked to share something in front of a crowd or a group. Or perhaps you've been asked to plan or organize something that you feel needs to go well for the sake of all involved. Or perhaps you need to provide leadership in a context that feels full of potential hazards. I've felt nervous in situations that resemble all of those examples. I get nervous because I'm overly concerned about missing the mark -- flubbing things up -- or getting in the way of God. And that can really diminish the joy I'm meant to have as I serve the Lord. But King David found a great way of stating the obvious fact that such struggles are all because our focus is all wrong!

David says in Psalm 5:7 that as for him, "by Your abundant lovingkindness I will enter Your house; at Your holy temple I will bow in reverence for You." If I walk into a context of public ministry among people who simply desire to meet with God or to hear God or to enjoy God, and my gaze is on myself -- my inadequacies, my weakness, my insecurities -- my, my, my, me, me, me -- I'm obviously going to be dejected. That's because I'm worshiping my weaknesses! How depressing! Have you ever done that? But David is saying that before God, neither our adequacies nor our inadequacies matter. We're not meant to enter God's house by our competence or our capabilities. We're meant to enter by God's abundant lovingkindness. Or as Romans 5:17 puts it: the abundance of God's grace! And I'm not meant to bow to my weakness or my insecurities. I'm meant to bow in worship to God alone.

Wow. With God and His abundant lovingkindness as my focus, I can forget however I might flub things up. And since the means of my entry into His presence is His loving invitation, my feelings about a Sunday morning should be more like David's in Psalm 5:11 -- "glad", "singing for joy" and "exulting" in God! Be happy, because God loves us with an abundant love that will never run dry!

© 2009 by Ken Peters

We are not alone... (and a video to prove it!)

I love maps. I just put a world map up in my home office. It's made by National Geographic in beautiful antique tones, and is mounted on wood with braces on the back so that it appears to float about an inch from the wall. It truly looks like a work of art.

Every Christian's home should have a world map up on a wall somewhere. They're beautiful, colourful reminders of the many wonderful peoples and cultures that this world consists of and that God wants us to share His love with. God wants us to see beyond ourselves, and a map is a simple way to help us do so. I love what Jesus said in John 4:35 -- "...lift up your eyes and look..." And then He pointed us to vast fields representing the myriads of people who need Him! Combine that with what John said he saw in Revelation 7:9, and the implications are amazing: "After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb..."

God loves the nations, and He's going to reach them! But He wants to use His people to do so. He wants us to go to every nation to share the good news of Jesus so that there will be people from every tribe and language enjoying Him forever in heaven. In fact, this is so important to Jesus that He said that His return would not occur until every single ethnic group heard the Gospel (Matthew 24:14).

That's why I love having maps up in my house. There's one above our kids' computer in the family room and now there's one in my office. They help me to remember that I'm not on this earth by myself or for myself. And they remind me of the many beautiful people I share this world with. People who desperately need the hope and power of Jesus. People who are desperate for food in refugee camps of Darfur and eastern Chad. People who are desperate for peace in Palestine and eastern Congo. People who are desperate for freedom from tyranny in North Korea and Zimbabwe. Maps keep all of this before me, and ought to cause me to both pray and to act on those prayers.

How about you? Go for it! Put up a map in your home. And let God touch your heart regarding the precious people beyond our horizons. And if you need a little something to spark your interest in geography, check out the following video. I know it's fairly dated, which means quite a few countries aren't mentioned, but it's a really enjoyable way to get a feel for how many people we share this world with. Take a look, and enjoy!



© 2009 by Ken Peters

Old poems

I haven't had the time or inclination to write something new here lately, and when I found myself interested in reading a little poetry today, I ended up rediscovering a couple of my old poems that I'd written long ago, both of them inspired by trees serving as metaphors. I thought I'd share them here, and hope you enjoy them.

Standing in the Stillness

I stand among the trees
As one of them,
Imitating their stillness,
Longing to stretch upward
As they do.
Each trunk a naked form;
Twisted, gnarled, aged,
Vulnerable to axe or blade,
And yet oblivious;
Only stretching upward -
Heavenward -
Each day a little nearer.
And at their tops,
What regal clothes they wear!
Adorned in garments of green
Given from the sun above,
They gently wave their branches
In silent wonder
Of the sky which is their source.
There is simplicity here.
The gentle breeze whispers of it,
And this garden of wood
Embodies it.
It is to fix our gaze upward,
Whatever leaves may fall,
That we might find
Our Source
Of stillness
In the Son.

Our Lady of the Prairies Abbey, Holland, Manitoba

August 19, 1994

The Hope of Spring

Arms laid low

Across a frozen earth,

A dead, decaying trunk

Clings to lifeless leaves,

Desperate for the root

That gives them green.

There is no beauty

In its sagging garb,

And no springtime hopes

Of shriveled leaves becoming new.

Arms spread high,
Naked before God,
An old and noble oak
Has shed its garb
In autumn’s cold, persistent winds.
Its outstretched limbs
Have released their crown of leaves.
But in the wilderness of winter,
The life that flows within its grain
Provides the hope of spring.

Sturgis, Michigan
December 1, 2000


© 2009 by Ken Peters

A new lamp

So just a few hours after posting "Living with Eternity in mind", Fiona and I went out to buy a new living room lamp. Our old one had broken, so we found ourselves out and about looking at lamps. Now in view of what I wrote on Friday morning, I have no worries that I'm in grave danger of becoming too focused on a new lamp. I was simply a bit taken aback at the price of lamps and the thought that we were now spending more money on stuff that fills our house. In essence, more money on stuff for me. Don't get me wrong. I'm not racked with guilt for buying a lamp. I'm just distracted by how much money we continually spend on making our living environment functional and attractive, and how challenging that makes it to have resources left over to share with people in need, a priority we don't want to lose.

And then I was reminded of the video below. A very funny video that chastens me for becoming too attached to the stuff in my life, and then sneaks in a plug that new stuff is much better than old! And of course, the main attraction in the video is a lamp. Take a look!



© 2009 by Ken Peters

Living with Eternity in mind

I've been asking myself a simple question lately: What am I living for? I think it's because there's something about all the turmoil in this world that makes me wonder how much of my life is focused on things that can't be shaken. I want to live for things that last, not for things that crumble. I want to get life from things that really matter, not from things for which I'll slap my credit card down with gusto. I want to be pursuing things that count for eternity rather than some flashy thing that may be exciting for a moment, but then amounts to nothing more than a nice little puff of smoke when the day is done.

That's the crux of what I'm wrestling with lately... I want to live with eternity in mind. Thinking about eternity changes everything. It changes my view of life. It changes how I view my CD collection. It changes what I think of fashions and gadgets. It changes my definition of successful or productive. It changes how I see my neighbour.

Jesus told a story about a very successful man who had filled his barns with goods and said to himself, "Soul, you have many goods laid up for many years to come. Take your ease. Eat, drink and be merry!" But God said to him, "You fool! This very night your soul is required of you. And now who will own what you have accumulated?" Jesus then said, "So is the man who stores up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God." (Luke 12:16-21)

To be "rich toward God" has eternity in mind. It means to be rich in the things that matter to God. Jesus is warning us here that it's foolish to be preoccupied in pursuing the temporal and material things of this world rather than on accumulating a treasure in heaven that will never fail.

John Piper describes it this way... "being 'rich toward God' means looking Godward for heavenly wealth. It means 'taking your ease' in him, finding your security in him. And it means using your money in such a way that enlarges the barn of your joy in heaven, not the barn of your comfort on earth. God gives us money on earth in order that we may invest it for dividends in heaven."

What I'm asking boils down to this: Life is short. Compared to eternity, life on this earth is very short. I'm going to die one day and I don't know when. So am I living my brief life on this earth in a way that counts for the eternity that follows?

As morbid as it sounds, when I drive past cemeteries, it's not unusual for me to consider that I'm going to be in the ground one day. All that I'm doing with my life will come to an end. My CD collection will mean nothing to me then. All my books? Someone else will get them. So what am I pursuing that will still have significance when I enter eternity in heaven?

Two vital things are mentioned in this passage of Luke 12. First, in Luke 12:8-9, Jesus explains that everyone on this earth who acknowledges who He truly is will later be acknowledged by Jesus in heaven. But whoever denies who Jesus is will be denied by Jesus in heaven. That is of foremost importance. But Luke 12 tells us a second thing about how to live for eternity, and it's an implication of actually acknowledging Jesus as Lord. Jesus says, "Sell your possessions and give to the needy. Provide yourselves with wallets that do not grow old and will have no holes in them so that you will have a treasure in heaven that will not fail and where no thief can steal it and no moth destroy it. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" (Luke 12:33-34).

I don't see this as an edict to make ourselves poor by giving all we have to the poor. I believe God wants to materially bless His people. Jesus is simply teaching us not to make such blessings our treasure, but rather to handle those blessings with the same generous spirit that God has expressed to us. As Frank Stirk writes in PK's magazine, "Seven", God measures success not by how much we earn, but by our willingness to part with it in order to bless others. That is how we can live so that we'll be rich toward God for an eternity in heaven, and a blessing to others while we remain here on this earth. And that is what I want to live for.

© 2009 by Ken Peters

Great Cause for Assurance (church bulletin cover)

What should we do when someone divinely inspired to write the Word of God writes, "Now this is the point..."? Sit up and take notice, for it's a wonderful thing when God makes Himself so clear. I think of such statements as heavenly handles we can grab onto when trying to understand what God wants to tell us.

In Hebrews 8:1, after seven chapters of rich and sometimes dense doctrine, the writer of the letter to the Hebrews says, "Now the point in what we are saying is this..." And then he writes that we have a High Priest who has taken His seat in heaven at the right hand of God. The writer's explanation of this main point continues through to chapter 10 where he then amplifies this picture of Christ being seated in heaven. And as I read chapter 10, I feel such great assurance before God that any striving to please God seems to drain from my soul!

Hebrews 10:12 and 14 says, "But when Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, He sat down at the right hand of God... For by a single offering He has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified." One sacrifice -- one offering -- and then He sat down. Job done. Mission accomplished. An echo of "It is finished!" (John 19:30).

This is why the writer then goes on to remind us of what Jeremiah prophesied would one day be the case: "I will remember their sins and their lawless deeds no more" (Hebrews 10:17). And that means that "where there is forgiveness of these, there is no longer any offering for sin" (Hebrews 10:18). Why not? Because one sacrifice -- one offering -- accomplished it all! The sacrifice of the One seated in heaven as our Great High Priest!

This means there is nothing I can do to earn it by my own sacrifices. In fact, when I attempt to add my sacrifices to Christ's, I have "insulted the Spirit of grace" (Hebrews 10:29)! All I'm meant to do is to appreciate what Christ has done and receive the forgiveness He provides. What assurance of love and acceptance! That is why we're encouraged to "draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean" (Hebrews 10:22)! God welcomes us with open arms, for "He who promised is faithful" (Hebrews 10:23).

That is the point in what God wants to say to each of us.

© 2009 by Ken Peters

Why I've chosen to read the ESV

Do you want to guess what had me excited in 2008 as 2009 drew near? I had bought an ESV Study Bible (which, by the way, is an amazing resource for any student of God's Word), and I was excited about the thought of reading the English Standard Version of the Bible this year! I haven't changed the translation of the Bible I've been reading for 29 years, and was wondering if reading the Bible in a different translation would help me to catch some fresh insights. So since January 1, I've been reading the ESV.

Prior to 2009, I'd been reading the New American Standard Bible (NASB) since I was 16 years old. My parents gave me my first copy on my 16th birthday, January 24, 1980. That was the year (in early spring) I really began seeking to live for God rather than for myself, and I made good use of that new blue, bonded leather Bible. It's pretty beat up now, with a few loose pages and lots of personal notes written in the margins (some of which reflect my very first exposure to various passages). I don't suppose it would have mattered what translation I was using in those days, as long as it was English. I just loved reading God's Word, and found that God spoke to me as I did so.

We live in a time in which a multitude of wonderful English translations of the Bible are available, all of which help us to get to know God and to see His beauty as we read them. I don't care what translation you read as much as I care about whether you read one or not. The key is that we feast on God's Word in any translation rather than filling ourselves up on the the junk food of lesser things.

But that being said, I can't help but have a preference for the Bible translation I read, and to have reasons for it. The main reason for the translation I choose is the method of translation used to write it. I want a translation that shows me, as closely as possible, what the original writers wrote rather than what someone thought they meant.

There are two main methods of translating texts from one language to another: the literal method (NASB, NKJV, ESV) and the dynamic equivalent method (NIV, NLT). Simply put, the literal method translates word for word or phrase for phrase as much as possible, and the dynamic equivalent translates idea for idea or thought for thought, taking larger blocks of words at a time, translating the essence of what writers meant without worrying about the words and phrases all being as close to the original as possible. The result is that the dynamic equivalent translations are more readable while the literal translations are more stiff and wooden in their style. But another result is that the dynamic equivalent translations make ample use of paraphrase and offer far more interpretation (a text explained) than I like to see in a translation (a text in a new language). So I prefer literal translations.

But dynamic equivalent translations have proven to be enormously popular because of their readability. And that is actually the reason I chose the ESV for 2009. It's a literal translation that flows better and is more readable than the NASB. It feels as though I may have found a translation that I'll be happy with for another 29 years! As John Piper writes, "I do not claim that the ESV is without its own level of 'paraphrasing.' Some will always be necessary. And there will always be disagreements about how much is necessary. I am simply arguing that the ESV is the best balance available of readability and literalness."

So if you've been reading the same translation of the Bible for quite awhile now, I encourage you to consider a change. Look at God's Word in a fresh way with a translation you're not so used to. And if you choose to do so, consider the ESV. The ESV Study Bible is well worth the investment!

© 2009 by Ken Peters

In memory of Tom, with thanks to God

My friend Tom died today. I saw him take his last breath. And as he did, he embarked upon a passage like no other as he passed from this fragile world to where he will live an exhilarating new life for eternity. Tom is now enjoying the glorious presence of the Lord Jesus, surrounded by the wonders of heaven, and blessed with a new body that causes him no pain.

As I stood at the foot of his hospital bed, staring at the peaceful expression on Tom's face, I wondered at the miracles Tom had experienced to prepare him for this day, and I felt honoured to be with him as he was ushered into his heavenly home.

I met Tom in 1989. He lived in the neighbourhood our church had recently moved into. And because Tom was such a friendly guy, he was one of the first people we met as we went out to get to know the people in our new neighbourhood. He had a great sense of humour and the same desire to help people in his neighbourhood as we had. But there was one difference between us. We came to show people the love of Jesus, and Tom couldn't stand hearing the name of Jesus even mentioned.

I remember the first time it happened. I was chatting with Tom and his wife Wendy in their living room, and I mentioned Jesus. Tom was up and out of the room with no warning and, according to Wendy, with no plans to return until I was gone. It was not the last time I would witness such an episode in my friendship with Tom.

I quickly learned that if I wanted to be friends with Tom and wanted him to stick around during a visit with him, I had to avoid mentioning Jesus. So I decided that, rather than trying to tell Tom about Jesus, I would try to show him what Jesus was like.

But not mentioning Jesus was difficult at times, for there were ways in which Tom clearly needed Jesus in his life. When I met Tom, he was on disability after having fallen 30 feet from a steel beam onto a concrete floor. Since that accident, pain was a routine part of his life. Tom's health began to suffer in other ways after he was diagnosed with diabetes. And then his wife Wendy left him due to personal issues that she too was grappling with. But still Tom was unwilling to talk about Jesus. He would weather these storms by his own strength. And I and others from our church continued to keep in touch with him, helping him with needs that arose, seeking to show him that the love of Jesus was not something to run away from.

Then a day came when Tom came to the end of his own resources. I remember that day well. Tom phoned me and asked if we could do coffee somewhere. As we talked over coffee and donuts (that he shouldn't have been eating), he poured out his pain. He asked me what was he to do? I said, "Tom, you're in trouble and you called a pastor. What do you want me to say? You need Jesus!" This time he didn't run away. Tom asked Jesus to become Lord of his life that day. And he began a new journey of following Jesus that would lead him to joyfully renew his wedding vows with his wife, and then to this day when, with Wendy weeping at his side, he would finally enter heaven's gates.

To me, it all seems a miracle. A man who once had no time of day for Jesus would now find immeasurable joy in His presence for eternity. A man who wasn't able to stay in the room if Jesus' name was mentioned was now being welcomed into Jesus' throne room where he would be lovingly and eternally embraced as a son. No wonder the Bible speaks of "the immeasurable riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus" (Ephesians 2:7). Though we reject Him for years, if we eventually turn to Him in our need, He will welcome us into His eternal kingdom where "He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more; neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away" (Revelation 21:4).

Tom couldn't be persuaded of all this with words alone. But when he experienced God's love through God's people, his heart became open to receive. This is how many people can experience the same miracle that occurred in Tom's life if we reach out to people in word and deed. And it's how witnessing a good friend's death can actually bring us joy.

© 2009 by Ken Peters