She Kept On Not Leaving
“A prophetess, Anna. . .was a widow until she was eighty-four. She never left the temple but worshiped night and day” – Luke 2:36-37
I’ve been preparing for a series of Christmas sermons, and one of those will be on Anna, the prophet who saw the child Jesus at His dedication in the Temple. All day this one particular phrase has bothered me– “she never left the temple.”
Here’s a woman who has been a widow for more years than I’ve been alive, yet she never left the temple. She never fell away or became faithless. She could have given up on God because she was a widow after only seven years of marriage, perhaps feeling neglected by God and society. She could have turned her back on her religion because life wasn’t turning out as she hoped. She could have shouted, “It MUST be someone’s fault. I’ll blame it on God! That’ll teach Him.” But she didn’t. She chose never to leave the temple.
In the Greek language this literally means, “She kept on not leaving.” She wasn’t too lazy to head for the door; she intentionally and actively engaged in not leaving the presence of God. Have you ever had a visitor to your house who “kept on not leaving”? Continue Reading
Last Wednesday, Barbara and I were co-teaching the book of James to a small group. After spending an hour talking about the book, we barely finished James 1:2, which tells us to consider it an opportunity for great joy when troubles come our way. Doesn’t that sound easy and fun?
The phone call came, as they usually do, at an inconvenient time. It was my mom, calling from Mississippi, telling me in Baton Rouge that my dad was in the hospital in California and had cancer. This was definitely not convenient. I called my dad and told him I was flying out in a couple of days to see him. He said he was looking forward to my visit.
I like the honesty of King David. Up until verse sixteen of Psalm 139, David is contemplating ways he could hide from God. (I’ve done that – I just don’t readily admit it.)
I’ve been around Christians and Christianity for thirty-five years now. I’ve been associated with Baptist, Pentecostal, Catholic and non-denominational organizations and churches. I’ve seen mysterious, authentic movements of God’s Spirit that have transformed people’s lives, and had conversations with pseudo-religious nuts who proclaimed they were the only ones who held true to “The One True Faith.” It’s been a wild ride.
Perhaps the best-known passage that shows us the servant heart of Jesus is John 13, where we see our Lord and Savior, the creator through whom God made the universe, washing feet.
Perhaps it is just me, but I don’t think the believers in Acts 2 were very surprised when the wind blew and shook the upper room when the disciples gathered for prayer and worship. Jesus said, “For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them” (Matt. 18:20). Would you really expect God to enter a room and not make just a little bit of noise? When God arrives, change is in the air.
Blaise Pascal said, “We must learn our limits. We are all something, but none of us are everything.” Or, as that wise 20th century philosopher Harry Callahan (Clint Eastwood) said in the movie Magnum Force, “A man’s got to know his limitations.”
I had an interesting conversation this summer with a man at a church picnic. Because I had never met him, at first glance I thought he was going through chemotherapy. He wore a knit cap in ninety-degree weather, had no hair on his arms, legs or face, and had penciled in his eyebrows. Only after I sat across from him at lunch did I understand the situation.
Thinking Out Loud 