Person-2-Person - April, 2019

“Do not wait for leaders; do it alone, person to person.” – Mother Teresa

One night about a month ago, I had an unfortunate experience: I locked myself out of our house while the temperatures were barely in double digits. Fortunately, my wife, Charlotte, was home and I was able to get her attention so I wasn’t out in the cold for very long. But the experience left me grateful that I didn’t have to spend the rest of that night—or any night—out in the weather.

The second verse of the hymn, “Mansion Over The Hilltop,” says, “Tho’ often tempted, tormented and tested, / And like the prophet, my pillow a stone. / And tho’ I find here no permanent dwelling, / I know He’ll give me a mansion my own.” The lyric calls to mind a lack of comfort, an absence of material blessings. But the “prophet” is the Old Testament patriarch Jacob, who “. . . came to a certain place and stayed there that night, because the sun had set. Taking one of the stones of the place, he put it under his head and lay down in that place to sleep.” (Gen. 28:11 ESV). Jacob wasn’t poor but he was forced to humble himself temporarily by sleeping on hard ground with only a stone under his head.

My predicament of being locked out made me momentarily sympathetic for the plight of those who don’t have the option of going indoors in cold weather. What if I had nowhere to go, nowhere to be warm, no wife to rouse in the middle of the night? What would have become of me? During his earthly ministry, Jesus may have been what we would call “homeless.” At one point, he told a would-be follower, “‘Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.’” (Matt. 8:20b ESV).

Paul could also have related to the words of the hymn. In his second letter to the Corinthians, he wrote of being imprisoned, beaten, and near death (11:23). Of being whipped, stoned, and shipwrecked (vs. 25). Of being in constant danger (vs. 26). Of being hungry and thirsty (vs. 27a), and of suffering from “cold and exposure.” (vs. 27b ESV). Then, he concluded the section by writing that, “. . . apart from other things, there is the daily pressure on me of my anxiety for all the churches.” (vs. 28 ESV). Even with all his own sufferings, his first thought was of the churches and disciples that depended on him. He wasn’t unrealistically optimistic about his situation. Instead, he wrote to his young friend, Timothy, “. . . all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted,” (2 Tim. 3:12 ESV). But he knew he had a mission to continue.

The night Jacob used a stone for a pillow was the night he had his well-known dream about a ladder between Earth and Heaven. The next day, “Jacob made a vow, saying, ‘If God will be with me and will keep me in this way that I go, and will give me bread to eat and clothing to wear, so that I come again to my father’s house in peace, then the LORD shall be my God,’” (Gen. 28: 20-21 ESV). It’s easy to say we will be faithful if God will provide our needs; it’s far harder to be faithful when we’re experiencing want or need. Jesus told his disciples that if God cared for “the birds of the air” (Matt. 6:26), God would care for them, that if God clothed “the grass of the field,” (vs. 30) God would clothe them. But it’s difficult to trust when we can see people who don’t have enough to eat or adequate clothing, or when we don’t have our basic needs met.

Some of you may have “given up” something for Lent, for example chocolate or coffee, but these “sacrifices” are usually symbolic rather than genuine. Paul wrote to the Romans that “. . . we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame,” (Rom. 5:3-4a ESV.) Not many of us “rejoice” when things aren’t going our way. We don’t look forward to developing “endurance,” “character,” and “hope.” I know I don’t. Instead, I like myself pretty well the way I am. But the way we respond to life’s misfortunes—whether by turning to God or turning away from God—can be an effective witness to our faith.

“Don’t think me poor or deserted or lonely;
I’m not discouraged, I’m heaven bound.
I’m just a pilgrim in search of that city;
I want a mansion, a harp, and a crown.” (“Mansion Over The Hilltop,” vs. 3, Ira Stanphill.)