Eye openers can come from strange sources. Some time ago, I stumbled upon the Introduction of our 1991 Baptist Hymnal. I was shocked to read the following: "In the year 1690, Baptist churches in England were embroiled in a divisive controversy. At issue was the question of whether to permit congregational singing in the worship services."
Can you believe it? At that time, tradition was for only one or a few singers to offer praise on behalf of the people. The idea of the entire congregation joining together in song was unheard of. What we take for granted today was at that time a new idea, met with hostility and distrust. I can hear it now. "Thou hast not performed it in this manor prior." Tradition had taken over, and biblical singing as enjoyed by the early church was a foreign concept.
The following year (1691), progressive pastor Benjamin Keach, published one of the first hymnals. In the appendix of this new worship tool, he wrote the following: "'Tis a hard case that any Christian should object against that duty which Christ and His Apostles, and the Saints of all ages in their publick assemblies were found in the practice of it; but 'tis no easie thing to break people of a mistaken notion, and an old prejudice taken up against the precious truth of Christ. The Lord will, I hope satisfy all His people about this heavenly ordinance in due time, and they shall not call it a Carnal nor a Formal thing anymore."
We scoff at narrow minded people such as those who did not allow congregational singing. But we are no better. We like the comfortable, and new methods tend to make us nervous. Of course, everything we do must be measured against God's Word, and just because it's fresh and innovative doesn't mean it's right. However, we must take care to understand the difference between "preference" and "conviction". My preference must make room for authentic, God inspired methods of sharing the Gospel message. What spoke volumes yesterday may not necessarily communicate today, and the bible is filled with fresh expressions of the ancient truths of God.
Isn't it nice to know that new ideas have been making people uncomfortable for centuries. It happens to each of us at one time or another. Change can be a good thing, and when measured against God's Word, I don't have to avoid or resist it. I can look at the experiences of others and know that growing pains are part of God's plan.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
The Woodcutter...
Recently I was reading in Nehemiah. In it, we see dedication to the Lord's task and bombardment from the enemy. Satan repeatedly attempted to discourage the work of the people as they rebuilt the walls of Jerusalem. They persevered, and I regularly go to this book for encouragement.
I was reading chapter 10 the other day and discovered something unexpected. Many times, God surprises me with a nice little jewel, seemingly buried within the routine. The people had just finished the wall and many exiles had returned. They publicly read the law, observed the Festival of Booths, and confessed their sin. (The Festival of Booths is observed by constructing and living in a temporary shelter in order to remember their deliverance from Egypt and journey through the wilderness.)
Following this, the people joined together in a vow to God. They recommitted themselves to observing the prescribed ordinances and laws. They also detailed their offerings and donations to the temple, including silver, grain and animals for the offerings. As I read, I was halted by verse 34: "We have cast lots among the priests, Levites, and people for the donation of wood by our ancestral houses at the appointed times each year. They are to bring [the wood] to our God's house to burn on the altar of the Lord our God as it is written in the law." The last phrase refers to Leviticus 6:12 where the priests are instructed to keep a fire burning on the altar, but I have never thought or read about the donation of wood.
I've cut wood all my life. You could say it's a family thing. I remember watching my dad return home after dark with a truck load of firewood. I remember finally being old enough to go with him. I remember early mornings, peanut butter and honey sandwiches and our old Coleman water jug. I remember the smells and the sounds (man sounds: engines and grunting). I remember the work. And I remember the satisfaction.
I've never been very good at naming trees, but I can tell you how they will burn. In Boy Scouts, I specialized in towers and campfires. I can build you a fire that will burn for days and won't fall down. And I enjoy it. There is nothing like the smell of a freshly cut tree, and a warm, crackling fire is a great reward. That's why I was stopped by verse 34.
I can see the woodcutter. He has cut wood all his life. He cuts wood for his home and perhaps to sell to his neighbors, and he enjoys a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. But today is different. Today is special, because he is cutting wood for the temple. Today, the results of his handiwork will serve the Lord God on the altar of sacrifice. I can almost feel the joy he feels, and I can hear him singing as he works.
(To the tune of "London Bridges")
Cuttin' firewood for my Lord... for my Lord... for my Lord...
Cuttin' firewood for my Lord... and His Temple.
As I enjoyed this picture, God reminded me of something Paul said in Colossians 3:23-24: "Whatever you do, do it enthusiastically, as something done for the Lord and not for men, knowing that you will receive the reward of an inheritance from the Lord—you serve the Lord Christ."
The woodcutter is encouraged to have the same joy whether he is cutting for the temple or his own cook fire. I am to rejoice in whatever task is before me, not because of recognition or even the satisfaction of finishing the job. I am to work with all my heart...for Him. My joy comes from knowing that every effort is for the Lord, and I continually praise Him for the privilege.
I was reading chapter 10 the other day and discovered something unexpected. Many times, God surprises me with a nice little jewel, seemingly buried within the routine. The people had just finished the wall and many exiles had returned. They publicly read the law, observed the Festival of Booths, and confessed their sin. (The Festival of Booths is observed by constructing and living in a temporary shelter in order to remember their deliverance from Egypt and journey through the wilderness.)
Following this, the people joined together in a vow to God. They recommitted themselves to observing the prescribed ordinances and laws. They also detailed their offerings and donations to the temple, including silver, grain and animals for the offerings. As I read, I was halted by verse 34: "We have cast lots among the priests, Levites, and people for the donation of wood by our ancestral houses at the appointed times each year. They are to bring [the wood] to our God's house to burn on the altar of the Lord our God as it is written in the law." The last phrase refers to Leviticus 6:12 where the priests are instructed to keep a fire burning on the altar, but I have never thought or read about the donation of wood.
I've cut wood all my life. You could say it's a family thing. I remember watching my dad return home after dark with a truck load of firewood. I remember finally being old enough to go with him. I remember early mornings, peanut butter and honey sandwiches and our old Coleman water jug. I remember the smells and the sounds (man sounds: engines and grunting). I remember the work. And I remember the satisfaction.
I've never been very good at naming trees, but I can tell you how they will burn. In Boy Scouts, I specialized in towers and campfires. I can build you a fire that will burn for days and won't fall down. And I enjoy it. There is nothing like the smell of a freshly cut tree, and a warm, crackling fire is a great reward. That's why I was stopped by verse 34.
I can see the woodcutter. He has cut wood all his life. He cuts wood for his home and perhaps to sell to his neighbors, and he enjoys a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction. But today is different. Today is special, because he is cutting wood for the temple. Today, the results of his handiwork will serve the Lord God on the altar of sacrifice. I can almost feel the joy he feels, and I can hear him singing as he works.
(To the tune of "London Bridges")
Cuttin' firewood for my Lord... for my Lord... for my Lord...
Cuttin' firewood for my Lord... and His Temple.
As I enjoyed this picture, God reminded me of something Paul said in Colossians 3:23-24: "Whatever you do, do it enthusiastically, as something done for the Lord and not for men, knowing that you will receive the reward of an inheritance from the Lord—you serve the Lord Christ."
The woodcutter is encouraged to have the same joy whether he is cutting for the temple or his own cook fire. I am to rejoice in whatever task is before me, not because of recognition or even the satisfaction of finishing the job. I am to work with all my heart...for Him. My joy comes from knowing that every effort is for the Lord, and I continually praise Him for the privilege.
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