Titus 3:4-5 But when God our Savior revealed his kindness and love … he gave us a new birth and new life through the Holy Spirit.
Ephesians 5:1-2 Imitate God, therefore, in everything you do, because you are his dear children. Live a life filled with love, following the example of Christ.
Our extended family keeps growing! With Gavin’s birth a month ago (see photo), if I counted right, on my side we now number 84 living descendants of Ray and Helen Elliott, plus the two, Karis and Gordon, who are with Mom and Dad in Heaven. (This doesn’t include our Michael and others who were miscarried before they were viable on earth, though perhaps we should include them.) On Dave’s side, descendants of Bill and Gloria Kornfield add 17 (not re-counting our family).
Despite the size of our family, we’re as excited about Gavin and Hannah and Bennett (the three born in the last few months) as about each family member of their generation. Each new life is precious. We pray that each of them will grow up feeling dearly loved, by their family, their extended family, and by God.
I’m writing to you just home from southern Indiana, where we enjoyed a rare Kornfield reunion before Dave’s sister Kathy and Tom return to their home in Bolivia. Such a lovely time, including delight in our grandniece Bella and our two grandnephews, Andrew and baby Bennett (and their wonderful parents and other family members).
Dave’s brother Bill, whom you may have prayed for when his leg was shattered in a bike accident in December, and his wife Jennie, delighted us in another way. Yes! He’s WALKING! With just a cane. And swimming! He has accomplished all this in literally half the time expected, by enduring huge amounts of pain AND finding joy and strength in God.
In the verses quoted above, Titus wrote about new birth into God’s spiritual family, a miracle which makes us kin to millions of believers around the world and through time—a family we’ll have eternity to get to know. This family includes people on every side of the conflicts the world struggles with today. Every war is therefore a “civil war” in terms of God’s Kingdom, which doesn’t recognize this world’s political boundaries.
So, I cringe when I hear folks condemn people groups en masse. I’m sure this hurts God’s heart as well. We forget, sometimes, that this world is not our forever home. We’ll be living for eternity with people beloved by our Father against whom we’ve nurtured prejudices and desired injury.
Show favor to your people, O Lord, who turn to you in weeping, fasting, and prayer.
For you are a merciful God, full of compassion, long-suffering, and abounding in steadfast love.
You spare when we deserve punishment,
And in your wrath, you remember mercy.
Spare your people, good Lord, spare us;
In the multitude of your mercies, look upon us and forgive us,
Through the merits and mediation of your blessed Son Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.
Sorry I didn’t post this on Saturday! It’s wonderful to be on the “other side” of Lent now, celebrating Jesus’s resurrection. May his life-giving Spirit continue to flow through our lives as we live into Easter.
Psalm 103:9-10 God will not constantly accuse us or remain angry forever. He does not punish us for all our sins; he does not deal harshly with us, as we deserve.
Tomorrow we’ll be halfway through Lent! How’s it going for you? Here’s my Lenten calendar so far:
Litany of Penitence 6:
For our dishonesty in daily life and work,
Our ingratitude for your gifts and our failure to heed your call.
Lord, have mercy upon us:
For we have sinned against you.
Tuesday my daughter arrived home from her work as a wound care and ostomy nurse just as I was leaving after babysitting her two young children. I wish I had a photo of Talita running as fast as she could into her mother’s arms—and then repeating it with her dad when he came out from his home office to greet his wife. Radiant joy!
What a vision of our Father/Mother God! (Take a look some time at the female images for God in Scripture, both Old Testament and New.) It didn’t matter at all that Talita had needed a time out earlier for not “heeding my call.” She was so confident of her parents’ love that all sadness melted away in their embrace.
Can you picture God reaching out his arms to embrace you and whirl you around in pure delight?
When I was a child, we sang this song at my boarding school. I had fun finding and singing it again. I’ll include the lyrics.
Day by Day, by Carolina Sandell Berg, written after the death of her father
Day by day, and with each passing moment, Strength I find to meet my trials here; Trusting in my Father’s wise bestowment, I’ve no cause for worry or for fear. He, whose heart is kind beyond all measure, Gives unto each day what He deems best, Lovingly its part of pain and pleasure, Mingling toil with peace and rest.
Every day the Lord Himself is near me, With a special mercy for each hour; All my cares He fain would bear and cheer me, He whose name is Counsellor and Pow’r. The protection of His child and treasure Is a charge that on Himself He laid; “As thy days, thy strength shall be in measure,” This the pledge to me He made.
Help me then, in every tribulation, So to trust Thy promises, O Lord, That I lose not faith’s sweet consolation, Offered me within Thy holy Word. Help me, Lord, when toil and trouble meeting, E’er to take, as from a father’s hand, One by one, the days, the moments fleeting, Till I reach the promised land.
John 3:19-21 God’s light came into the world, but people loved the darkness more than the light, for their actions were evil. All who do evil hate the light and refuse to go near it for fear their sins will be exposed. But those who do what is right come to the light so others can see God at work in what they are doing.
I just spent a weekend with my grandchildren. They love, love, love playing hide and seek, from the baby to the six-year-old. The two three-year-olds can’t bear for long the tension of being hidden: “Here I am! I’m here!” The six-year-old can wait a long time in his increasingly inventive hiding places.
In the course of their play, this six-year-old knocked his sister to the ground. Immediately he said, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” and rushed to help her get up. I noticed, though, that minutes after she was happily off chasing her cousin, my grandson stood in place, tears pooling in his eyes. When I asked him what was wrong, the tears overflowed.
“I didn’t want to hurt Talita,” he sobbed. “I did something bad.”
I had a choice: Try to convince him that accidents happen and not to worry about it; Talita was fine. Or honor his sense of wrongdoing. “Sweetheart,” I said, “there’s something we can do when we’ve done wrong.”
“What?” he asked, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.
“We can tell God what we did and ask him to forgive us. When we do that, he promises to make our hearts clean. Would you like to do that?”
After doing so, he stood for a moment looking at the floor, then gave me a brilliant smile and ran to find his sister and cousins.
And I had the joy of seeing God at work, lifting my grandson’s distress from his shoulders.
You and I have the same opportunity: to bring our wrongdoing to the light so we can receive forgiveness and restoration of our joy and freedom. Often this requires restitution as well for the way we have hurt someone.
We may think we’re protecting ourselves when we hide our sin, but in fact we’re internalizing the harm we did, thus dimming our internal light, making it harder to see our own hearts clearly. We need the Holy Spirit to shine his light, to seek and find and deal with what is hurting us inside.
If we claim we have no sin, we are only fooling ourselves and not living in the truth.But if we confess our sins to God, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all wickedness (1 John1:8-9).
Isaiah 61:3, 7, 10 To all who mourn, he will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning. … Everlasting joy will be yours. … I am overwhelmed with joy in the Lord my God! For he has dressed me with the clothing of salvation and draped me in a robe of righteousness. I am like a bridegroom in his wedding suit or a bride with her jewels.
Joy is the theme of the third week of Advent, when we light the pink candle along with the first one, hope, and the second, faith. There are various ways of naming these candles—yours may be different—but I believe all traditions emphasize joy on this third week.
Isaiah takes us to the depths of despair as he foresees overwhelming harm resulting from injustice. He also raises us to the heights of joy when he envisions the day when the Savior of the world will put everything right. His book overflows with joy!
Isaiah says his good news will “strengthen those who have tired hands and encourage those who have weak knees” (35:3). So take five minutes to read Isaiah 35 today, out loud if you can!
Isaiah 29:19 (40:25, 57:15, Proverbs 9:10), John 6:69 The humble will be filled with fresh joy from the Lord. The poor will rejoice in the Holy One.
My husband’s brother Bill and his family spent Thanksgiving with us. The next Tuesday, riding his bike home to Plano from For the Nations in Dallas where he volunteers, Bill was hit by a car, which shattered his legs and broke a rib, collapsing a lung. Last night on the phone he told Dave, “It’s an amazing thing. As I lie here, I feel like I’m in the presence of the Holy One. I feel joy.”
This is more than I usually write for Advent ABC, but I want to tell you my three year old granddaughter Talita, who had been thrilled with all the attention Uncle Bill gave her while he was in Pittsburgh, told me, “I’m sad about my boy Billy who got hit by a car and broke his legs like my Vovó [her Brazilian grandmother Luciene, who is walking now!].” Today I was able to tell Talita her “boy Billy” is home from the hospital, determined, he says, to walk in nine months.
Isaiah 43:25 [The Lord, your Redeemer, says] “I—yes, I alone—will blot out your sins for my own sake and will never think of them again.”
Psalm 130:3-4 Lord, if you kept a record of our sins, who, O Lord, could ever survive? But you offer forgiveness.
1 Corinthians 13:5 Love keeps no record of being wronged.
1 John 1:9 If we claim we have no sin, we are only fooling ourselves and not living in the truth. But if we confess our sins to God, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all wickedness.
I’ve just flown back into Pittsburgh over autumn-hued hills, returning from an amazing retreat with seventy leaders from fourteen countries in Bogotá, Colombia.
The last retreat session included time for ten of the group to share what they had been hearing from God during our time together. Again and again, people referred to Isaiah, including this chapter, particularly verses 18 and 19 about the “new thing” God is doing through discipling and pastoring of pastors.
I usually think of Isaiah 43 in terms of its first four verses, as a “go-to” passage when I need reassurance of God’s love and care. You too? But the chapter is so rich, I encourage you to read it all.
Tucked in toward the end of the chapter is another startling evidence of God’s love and care for us: his joy in forgiving our sins and never thinking of them again. God says he does this for his own sake—to preserve his treasured relationships with us. Surely, he knows we will hurt him again, because we are far from being all we want and should be. But he values the joy enough to forget the pain. He truly delights in us.
Recently a man whose wife was divorcing him asked me to read a letter she had sent him explaining her decision. It was a long litany of what he had done wrong and all the ways he had hurt her during their marriage.
The man said, “I’m devastated. In every one of these cases, I recognized and grieved my wrong, asked her to forgive me—which she said she did—and tried hard to do better. I wanted her to thrive in my love for her. I longed for us to return to the joy we’d known together.”
He stopped for a moment to contain his tears and then continued, “Obviously, where I thought we had achieved repair, she instead added the incident to her list of my failings. Maybe that’s why she spent so much time journaling. I don’t know what to do. What does she mean at the end of her letter that she still loves me, she just can’t live with me because she knows I’ll hurt her again? Does love keep track of every evidence of fault in the other person?”
NO. And Jesus, who lived out God’s love through his relationships on earth, invites us to love as he did. For joy!
I have told you these things so that you will be filled with my joy. Yes, your joy will overflow! This is my commandment: Love each other the same way I have loved you (John 15:11-12).
Isaiah 35 Even the wilderness and desert will be glad in those days. The wasteland will rejoice and blossom … There will be an abundance of flowers and singing and joy!… With this news, strengthen those who have tired hands, and encourage those who have weak knees. Say to those with fearful hearts, “Be strong, and do not fear, for your God is coming to save you. … The lame will leap like a deer, and those who cannot speak will sing for joy! … Those who have been ransomed by the Lord will return singing, crowned with everlasting joy. Sorrow and mourning will disappear, and they will be filled with joy and gladness.
Luke 7:22 “Tell John what you have seen and heard—the blind see, the lame walk, the lepers are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised to life, and the Good News is being preached to the poor.”
1 Peter 1:6 So be truly glad. There is wonderful joy ahead, even though you have to endure many trials for a little while.
In my Bible beside Isaiah 35:2 I noted in 2012, “Val’s wedding!”
I’ve never attended an event with such an abundance of flowers. The wedding was held at a campsite outside of Joinville, in southern Brazil. The decorators did such an amazing job with flowers, linens, crystal, china, and candles that you would never know you were in a plain camp dining room.
I was as surprised as any other guest when I walked into this gorgeous setting. Though mother of the bride, I was unable to participate in the planning of this milestone in Valerie’s life because I was in Pittsburgh caring for Karis. She (Karis) had planned for months to travel to Brazil for her beloved little sister’s wedding, but an untimely accident left her in the hospital instead of on an airplane. That’s another whole long story. Karis called it the biggest disappointment of her entire life.
I left Karis in the care of my beloved younger sister and traveled to Brazil with no idea of the beauty that awaited all of us. I experienced in my own small way the joy foretold in Isaiah 35. For that day, I was able to set aside my “tired hands, weak knees, and fearful heart” for Karis and let my soul absorb the loveliness and joy of Valerie + Cesar. A celebration that renewed my strength for the long days awaiting me in Pittsburgh on my return.
Isaiah 26:1, 3, 8, 12, 19 We are surrounded by the walls of our salvation. … You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you, all whose thoughts are fixed on you! … Lord, we show our trust in you by obeying your laws; our heart’s desire is to glorify your name. … Lord, you will grant us peace; all we have accomplished is really from you. … For your life-giving light will fall on your people like dew.
I woke up at 4:00 to the rhythms of my husband snoring beside me and my son snoring in the next tent over. My heart filled with thankfulness for these two men, for who they are, for the richness and depth and beauty of what each of them contributes to those around them.
On this early Saturday morning at Raccoon Creek State Park, almost a week ago now, the day before our 46th anniversary, my mind wandered over God’s faithfulness to us, so amazing. Our marriage had every reason to fail, and honestly, but for David’s stubbornness and God’s grace, it would have. Our life together was off the charts traumatic and stressful for so many years that I came close to an emotional breakdown—long before I was diagnosed with PTSD after Karis’s death. Dave went through periods of depression. The kind where I might open the door to his office to ask him a question and find him lying on the floor in the dark staring blindly at the ceiling.
But God …
Friday evening our family had sat around the campfire singing silly songs, telling stories, even reciting “Jabberwocky.” We had joined our daughter Rachel singing “This Little Light of Mine,” which she had taught three-year-old Liliana to sing when she felt afraid of the dark. Valerie quickly followed with the Portuguese, “Minha pequena luz, vou deixar brilhar …”—so appropriate, because when Val was a teenager, her friends called her “Pequeno raio de luz”—little ray of light.
Here’s the thing: I could so easily have spoiled this precious time together. Not because I got distracted and the sausage hobo meals I had labored over with the “help” of Caleb and Talita—supper for ten of us—burnt to a crisp in the coals of Rachel’s fire. But because of my reaction to this fiasco.
Can you relate?
Everyone else took it in stride and ate more watermelon and s’mores made with Brian’s ginormous marshmallows. Caleb, Talita, and Liliana shrieked with laughter as Uncle Dan chased them around our tents. Baby Juliana blessed us with her marvelous smile and her enthusiasm for crawling not just in the grass but in the dirt.
I was so disappointed though that internally, all kinds of buttons were pushed—the perfectionist button, the “how could you” button, the “you are such a—” button, even the “could this be an early sign of Alzheimer’s” button. I was tempted to make my camp cooking failure an issue for the whole family. To make it about me.
Please tell me I’m not the only one to experience this temptation!
But God let me see instead the family laughing, talking, sharing what we did have to eat, even Cesar finding a consumable bite or two in the cinders of my burnt offering. The light of their smiles, each one of them, shone into the darkness of my heart and chased the shadows away.
This little light of mine … Minha pequena luz … surrounded me like a wall as Rachel and Valerie sang in the glow of the campfire Friday evening. I felt its protection still as I eased through the door of our tent into the dewy grass at the first lightening of the sky the next morning. As we hiked through the lovely woods and the kids swam in the lake. Even as we broke down our camp and said our goodbyes. And as Dave said “Happy anniversary” to me early Sunday.
Borrowing Isaiah’s words, Lord, you have granted us peace; all we have accomplished—even our emotional healing and growth—is really from you. My heart’s desire is to glorify your name.
1 John 5:19-20 The world around us is under the control of the evil one. And the Son of God has come, and he has given us understanding so that we can know the true God. … He is eternal life.
My heart is so full of the blessing of yesterday–I want to share a few of many special moments with you. Dave and I love attending the sunrise service at 6:00 a.m. The service begins in total darkness as we review God’s work leading up to this day. We are each handed a candle, and the first half of the service is conducted by candlelight.
Before I go on, a bit of context:
On Thursday evening, at the end of the footwashing service, the altar had been stripped of every decoration as the light gradually lowers until the pastor ends with the reading by candlelight of Luke 22:39-53. Verse 53 ends with, “But this is your hour, and the power of darkness.” As he says “the power of darkness,” the pastor blows out his candle. At the same instant, all remaining light in the sanctuary is extinguished. We sit in silence in the darkness, and when we’re ready, leave in the same way.
On Friday, from noon until 3:00, in various ways, including art works from people in the congregation, we shared in Jesus’s suffering on the cross, suffering for each of us. We are invited to write our sins and burdens and walk forward to leave our folded papers in a basket at the foot of the rough wooden cross, bearing a crown of thorns, at the front of the church. At the end of the service, these are taken outside and burned, to symbolize Christ bearing them for us.
On Easter morning, as we enter the dark sanctuary, we have in our minds the stripped altar and the cross. But at a certain moment in the service, the lights and the choir explode, and we see the sanctuary full of flowers. Madly ringing bells we have brought from home for this moment, the congregation joins the choir in wholehearted praise.
This year, when the lights came on, we also saw an amazing mosaic at the front of the church. This also requires a bit of context, going back to Ash Wednesday, Feb. 22. We were invited to bring to that service a piece of pottery from home, which we placed in a big metal tub and smashed with hammers at the end of the service, to illustrate our brokenness.
An artist, with the help of anyone from the church who wished to participate, took those broken pieces and created beauty from them. People crowded around after the service to admire it and to identify pieces from their own broken cup or bowl or pitcher. Many of us were in tears at this visual, visceral symbol of God’s transformation and healing offered us through Jesus’s sacrifice on the cross. The photo I managed to capture:
The mosaic reminded me of the last chapter of Suffering and the Heart of God. Diane Langberg waxes poetic as she describes Jesus on the cross, and then restored to life, healing our brokenness. Here’s part of what she says:
The cross is a place of death and evil; decay and wrath. It is a pace of darkness, thirst, isolation, rejection, abandonment, and bondage. It is the absence of God and all that is good. It is hell itself.
And whom do we see there? The Lily of the Valley, the Rose of Sharon. We see the fairest of ten thousand, the beauty of God incarnate. We see purity, holiness, infinite love, compassion, and eternal glory. …
Death and evil seemed to have won. But God had so much more up his sleeve:
What happened that third day? Decay was transformed into glory. Death was swallowed up by life. Evil was transfigured into holiness, and the wrath of men into praise. Darkness was changed to light, and hell defeated by heaven. Thirst is transformed into living water and brokenness into the bread of life. Alienation led to restored relationship and bondage led to freedom.
If garbage can be transformed into beauty on such a scale as this, then surely it can happen in my small life and in the lives of others. … The cross, a thing of beauty? Yes, for it is at the cross that we behold all of the beauties of Christ in perfection. All of his love is drawn out there. All of his character expressed. The wounds of Jesus are far more fair than all the splendor of this world. …
Children of God in a world controlled by the Evil One. I fear the odds are against us. Our wits are too slow, our understanding finite and our strength too frail. But, glorious but, “the Son of God has come … to transform garbage into beauty, first in our lives and then in those we serve. … So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen (2 Corinthians 4:18). And what is it that is unseen? The Lord of Glory, the Lord of all Beauty, who wears the appearance of a slain Lamb as his court dress. …
May we count Him alone as worthy and all else as rubbish. May we desire one thing—to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to seek his beautiful face. And then may the beauty of our Lord be upon us. May he establish the work of our lives.
I invite you to enjoy our choir’s Easter anthem, called “Glad of Heart,” written in 1568, here (start at 1:39:50) Of course, you can watch any of the rest of the live stream you wish–or either of the other two services. The worship during communion begins at 1:59:23. Here is the text:
Now glad of heart be everyone! The fight is fought, the battle won, the Christ is set upon his throne, alleluia, alleluia!
Who on the wood was crucified, who rose again, as at this tide, in glory to his Father’s side, alleluia, allelluia!
Who baffled death and harrowed hell and led the souls that loved him well, all in the light of lights to dwell: alleluia, alleluia!
To him we lift our heart and voice and in his paradise rejoice with harp and pipe and happy noise. Sing alleluia, alleluia!
Then rise all Christian folk with me and carol forth the One in Three that was, and is, and is to be, alleluia, alleluia!
Though this has become a long post, I want to share one more thing, related to verse 4 of this anthem. Several weeks ago I started practicing with my grandchildren a simple piece of music (“Allelu, allelu, allelu, alleluia, Praise ye the Lord) to share with their parents at our Easter brunch, accompanied by a variety of simple instruments. The adults at the table each had an instrument as well, to join in the song after the children “taught” it to them. “Happy noise” indeed! It was such fun that we sang and “played” other songs as well, ending, at Talita’s request, with “Twinkle, twinkle, little star.” Since the morning sermon had referenced Jesus as the Morning Star, each of us to reflect his glory, this seemed oddly appropriate!
Debra Kornfield 