What Not To Say...

What Not to Say to a Grieving Person by Nancy Guthrie

Three Things Grieving People Don't Want to Hear

I want to tell you three things that grieving people wish no one would ever say to them again.

One of them is, "I know exactly how you feel." We tend to say that to someone when we’ve had a grief experience of our own, some kind of loss. We’ve had a taste of it, and there are aspects of what they’re going through that we might be familiar with. But when we say, "I know exactly how you feel," it’s like we’re elevating ourselves to their level. It’s like we’re trying to steal the spotlight from them. But we don’t know exactly how they feel. We know how we felt, and we know what our experience was like when we lost someone, but we don’t know what their experience is like. They are a unique person—their loss was unique.

A second thing they never want to hear is, "You’ll be fine." We say that because they seem so devastated and we want to assure them that the day is going to come when the sun is going to come out again and it won’t hurt quite as much as it does today. But, once again, saying "You’ll be fine" makes it sound as if this loss that they have experienced is just another bump along the way of life—that it’s really not all that significant, that it shouldn’t trouble them too much. What it really does is diminish the worth of the person who died. It says that the person who died is not really worthy of being all that troubled about. So don’t say, "You’ll be fine."

The third one is the biggest. Any sentence that begins with, "Well, at least . . ." Whatever you’re going to put after that—just forget it. Things like, "Well, at least you can have more children," "Well, at least you can get married again," "Well, at least they didn’t have to suffer," "Well, at least . . ." The reason we’re saying these things is that we’re trying to help them have perspective. We’re wanting them to look on the bright side. What we’re saying might actually be a good perspective, and it might be true, but the question is: is it helpful in this moment?

Maybe the grieving person says, "Well, at least . . ." If they do that, you can agree. But don’t be the first one to say it. Don’t, in your desire to give them perspective about their loss, actually diminish their loss in the process.

Grieving the Holy Spirit By Politics

Looking back on the 2016 election,  I've been thinking on the message of this article - How We Grieved the Holy Spirit in This Election by J. Lee Grady. Note that this was written beforee Election Day.

We have just endured the most bitter and divisive presidential contest in a lifetime. The whole nation is shell-shocked. Our ears are ringing and our heads are pounding after being bombarded for more than a year and a half with noisy rhetoric.

Imagine if an alien spaceship tried to decipher the jumbled message that has been transmitted from the United States for the past 19 months. "Trump is a racist! Hillary is a nasty woman! Trump gropes women! Send Hillary to prison! The election is rigged! Remember Benghazi! Trump hates Megyn Kelly! Megyn Kelly hates Newt Gingrich! Blah blah blah blah blah!"

I have loathed every minute of it. I'm looking for a T-shirt that says: "Thank God it's over."

My struggle wasn't caused by the bickering about Obamacare, Hillary's email server, Donald Trump's insults or Bernie Sander's liberal lectures. I don't mind the arguments and put-downs on the news, because I can turn off the television when I want to. And I believe there is a place for legitimate political debate. What grieved me most was seeing the hatefulness Christians threw at each other during this election cycle.

I've heard Christians swear at each other, verbally assault each other, and dissect each other in self-righteous Facebook posts. I've watched one Christian demonize another Christian simply because they have different views on a public policy issue. And I've seen how the racial divisions in the church grew deeper when a pastor decided to politicize a sermon or tell people they had to vote a certain way to please God.

About half of our population will be celebrating the winner of this election next Tuesday, while the other half will be licking their wounds. I don't believe the Holy Spirit will be taking sides. I believe He is grieved by the way the church behaved.

What exactly does it mean to grieve the Holy Spirit? The clue is found in Ephesians 4:30, which says: "Do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption." Then the apostle Paul goes on to explain how to avoid grieving the Spirit.

He writes: "Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ has forgiven you" (v. 31-32).

The point here is that the Holy Spirit is quenched when we mistreat each other. Our relationship with God is not just about how we act individually. Christianity is not a Lone Ranger religion. If we don't treat each other with love and respect, the Spirit is not happy. He withdraws His blessing and waits for us to repent. He calls us to community.

It's interesting that one of the behaviors mentioned in this verse is "clamor." This is the Greek word kraugē, which means "to shout or cry loud or insistently." It refers to the volume level of an argument. Yes, you can grieve the Holy Spirit with your tone of voice.

There is nothing wrong with disagreeing. But when our disagreements become shouting matches, and our tone becomes harsh or vindictive, the Holy Spirit tunes out. He does not like it when we shout, scream, rant and spew venom at each other.

Yet many Christians today defend this behavior. We have been trained well by the sharp-witted commentators on Fox News and CNN. We have the idea that standing for truth requires us to blast our opponents out of the water. We wield our verbal swords and skewer our enemies like Roman gladiators in the coliseum. And the crowds cheer when we slay our political opponents with snappy one-liners. Touché!

God, forgive us. We have called what is evil good. We thought we were exhibiting moral courage when we brashly attacked a brother who had a different opinion about immigrants or health care policy. We thought God was pleased when we shouted down the woman who disagreed with us about transgender bathrooms. We thought God was on our side when we angrily quoted the Bible and waved our fists in the air.

We didn't have a clue that the Holy Spirit had withdrawn from us. He was grieved. We didn't realize that just because a person is right about something does not mean they have God's blessing. Moses was a great man of God, but when he struck the rock in anger he forfeited his chance to enter the Promised Land.

If you have allowed anger to take control of your life during this crazy political season, pull away from the ruckus and let the Holy Spirit adjust your attitude. Go on a fast from ranting and raving. Stop being outraged and encourage somebody. Forgive those who disagree with you. Love those who voted differently from you. Set politics aside and act like a Christian.

Strength in Lamentation

A faith that does not know how to lament and still believe may turn out to be no faith at all. True faith discovers that Lament  Helps Us to Hold On To Him (By Vaneetha Rendell Risner)

When pain almost strangles us, and darkness is our closest friend, what should we do?

For years, I thought the best response was cheerful acceptance. Since God uses everything for our good and his glory, I felt the most God-honoring attitude was to appear joyful all the time. Even when I was confused and angry. Even when my heart was breaking. And especially when I was around people who didn’t know Christ.

But I have since learned the beauty of lament in my suffering. Lament highlights the gospel more than stoicism ever could. Hearing our authentic, God-honoring lament can draw others to God in unexpected ways. I first noticed the power of lament in the book of Ruth.

Naomi’s Trust in God

I had long seen Ruth as the undisputed hero of the book that bears her name, and Naomi as the grumbling character with weak faith and a negative attitude. But having walked myself in similar shoes now for a fraction of her journey, I have a new respect for the depth of Naomi’s trust in God. Ruth was an eyewitness to Naomi’s faith. She saw her faith hold fast, even in horrific circumstances. And behind Naomi’s faith, she saw the God who heard Naomi’s lament and didn’t condemn her for it, even as Naomi spoke frankly about her disappointment with God.

Lamenting to a god would have been foreign to Ruth. Ruth’s first god, the god of Moab, was Chemosh. No one would have dared lament or complain to him. Pagan gods were to be appeased; there was no personal relationship with any of them, especially not with Chemosh, who demanded child sacrifices.

But Ruth sees a completely different God as she watches Naomi. Naomi trusts God enough to tell him how she feels. Though she says, “The hand of the Lord has gone out against me” (Ruth 1:13), Naomi doesn’t walk away from God in anger. She stays close to him and continues to use God’s covenant name, Yahweh, asking him to bless her daughters-in-law. Naomi doesn’t stop praying; she believes God hears her prayers.

Naomi’s trust is further evidenced by her determination to travel to Bethlehem alone. If Naomi felt that God had truly abandoned her, she never would have begun that journey. She would have stayed in bed, pulled the covers over her head, and died in Moab, bitter and angry at God. But she doesn’t do that. She acts in faith, trusting that God will provide for her.

Naomi’s trust is extraordinary given the tragedies she has endured. She and her husband had left Israel for Moab with their two sons in search of food. While they were there, her sons and husband died, and she was left alone. A widow. A grieving mother. A foreigner. With no means to support herself.

I understand why she felt that the Lord’s hand had gone out against her. In my own pain, I have cried out to God, “Why do you hate me?” I have retraced my life, wondering why God had turned against me.

Naomi’s Honesty with God

But to my regret, I’ve always been very private about my pain. I have hesitated to voice my anger and fears, concerned about what others might think. Lament can be messy, and I want my life to look neat. And I foolishly think my bleached prayers somehow make God look better.

The Cliff's Notes Bible

The "Cliff's notes" version of the entire Bible:

GENESIS

God: "All right, you two, don't do the one thing. Other than that, have fun."

Adam & Eve: "Okay."

Satan: "You ssssssshould do the thing."

Adam & Eve: "Okay."

God: "What happened!?"

Adam & Eve: "We did the thing."

God: "Guys..."

THE REST OF THE OLD TESTAMENT

God: "You are my people, and you should not do the things."

People: "We won't do the things."

God: "Good."

People: "We did the things."

God: "Guys..."

THE GOSPELS

Jesus: "I am the Son of God, and even though you have done the things, the Father and I still love you and want you to live. Don't do the things anymore."

Healed people:" Okay! Thank you!"

Other people: "We've never seen him do the things, but he probably does the things when no one is looking."

Jesus: "I have never done the things."

Other people: "We're going to put you on trial for doing the things."

Pilate: "Did you do the things?"

Jesus: No.

Pilate: "He didn't do the things."

Other people: "Kill him anyway."

Pilate: "Okay."

Jesus: "Guys..."

PAUL'S LETTERS PART I

People: "We did the things."

Paul: "Jesus still loves you, and because you love Him, you have to stop doing the things."

People: "Okay."

PAUL'S LETTERS PART II

People: "We did the things again."

Paul: "Guys..."

REVELATION

John: "When Jesus comes back, there will be no more people who do the things. In the meantime....STOP DOING THE THINGS!!!"

THE END

Father Prompts

“If you want to judge how well a person understands Christianity find out how much he makes of the thought of being God’s child, and having God as his Father. If this is not the thought that prompts and controls his worship and prayers and his whole outlook on life, it means that he does not understand Christianity very well at all.”

    - J.I. Packer, Knowing God

Living With Integrity

“There's this idea that to live out of conformity with how I feel is hypocrisy; but that's a wrong definition of hypocrisy, To live out of conformity to what I believe is hypocrisy. To live in conformity with what I believe, in spite of what I feel, isn't hypocrisy; it's integrity.”

    - Erik Thoennes, quoted in Has 'Authenticity' Trumped Holiness?

BTW - This is a very good article which I highly recommend.

Honoring the Wisdom of Age

Let’s be a church that has a counter culture that says we respect people in old age. We don’t say, “Well, you’re retired and you don’t have much left to do.” or “You’re in your eighties, it’s time to get a bingo card or something.” But, “What can we learn from you?” and “How might we be able to benefit from the wisdom that God has given you?”

  - Kevin DeYoung at University Reformed Church

Are We Too Busy To Hear?

"A question that must guide all organizing activity in a church is not how to keep people busy, but how to keep them from being so busy that they can no longer hear the voice of God who speaks in silence."

     - Henri Nouwen, The Way of the Heart

500 Years of Reformation

There's a big anniversary coming one year from today. 499 years ago today, 500 next year, an obscure monk and professor named Martin Luther nailed an invitation to debate (composed of 95 Theses) on the theology of indulgences onto the door of the Castle Church in Wittenberg Germany. He didn't know what he was starting. We know it as the Protestant Reformation. Here are 10 Things You Should Know About the Reformation  by Tim Chester, coauthor of Why the Reformation Still Matters:

1. The Pope started the Reformation.

The fourteenth century was a bad time for the papacy. For a period, there were two rival popes and the papacy was under pressure from the French monarchy. It wasn’t a good time for the city of Rome either—seven successive popes abandoned Rome in favor of Avignon in France. Rome was sidelined and Saint Peter’s Basilica fell into disrepair. The popes returned to Rome in 1377 and then sorted out their divisions in 1417.

A hundred years on, things were looking up: in 1505, Pope Julius II had decided to knock down the old St Peter’s and start again. He had big plans for his own tomb and wanted a basilica to match. It was time to make Rome magnificent once again. But that didn’t come cheap, so the church embarked on a fundraising campaign. It was this campaign that brought Johann Tetzel to Germany to sell indulgences, promises of time off purgatory in exchange for cash. And so it was that on October 31, 1517, Martin Luther nailed his protest against indulgences to the door of the Castle Church in Wittenberg.

2. The Reformation was about sausages.

During Lent 1522, a group of students in Zurich held a sausage-themed party. Traditionally only vegetables and fish were eaten during Lent. But they wanted change and that meant hot dogs. The city council fined the host of the party, albeit only a nominal amount. A few days later, Huldrych Zwingli, the leader of the city’s church, produced a pamphlet in support of the students. The Bible, he argued, didn’t have much to say about sausages—there was certainly nothing about eating sausages during Lent.

The Council convened a debate to decide whether Zwingli’s views matched what was taught in the Bible. Zwingli won the day. But really, he’d won before it started because the terms of the discussion assumed the authority of Scripture. And that, rather than sausages, was the real issue—though it’s reassuring to know that bacon sandwiches get the thumbs up.

3. Luther’s marriage was a bit fishy.

Catholicism's focus was on becoming right with God through the sacraments or monastic life, but the Reformers preached that being right with God is a gift. There’s no need to do works for God’s benefit. It’s already a done deal—achieved by Christ and received by faith. And that frees you up to serve your neighbour in love.

In 1523, a group of nuns contacted Luther. Convent life made no sense, so the nuns wanted Luther to help them escape their cloistered life. Luther enlisted a merchant who regularly delivered herring to the convent. On April 5, the nuns escaped by hiding among the empty fish barrels. Their families refused to take them back, perhaps because what had just happened was still a crime under Church law. So Luther set about marrying them off—no easy matter, perhaps, since they smelled of fish!

Gradually, he found husbands for them all—all except one. No husband could be found for the ringleader, Katharina von Bora. So, somewhat against his wishes, Luther himself married her. He was forty-one and she twenty-six. It turned out to be a good match.

4. There were 97 theses before there were 95 theses.

Luther’s famous ninety-five theses were not his first stab at provoking a debate. A few weeks before, he’d posted ninety-seven theses. They included an attack on the Greek philosopher Aristotle, who’d made something of a comeback in the Medieval period. As it happens, no one took much notice of Luther’s ninety-seven theses. Yet they were much more central to the thought of the Reformation.

So, when Luther was summoned to account for his actions before his Augustinian order, it was to the themes in the ninety-seven theses that he returned. Aristotle said we become righteous by doing right acts—your identity is the result of your actions. It’s something you achieve. Luther said this gets things the wrong way around. In the gospel, our identity is a gift from God. It’s something you receive. And then our actions flow from our new identity. Unbelievers can be constrained by laws and peer pressure, but a life of wholehearted righteous living is only possible if God makes us new people.

5. The Reformation involved a rediscovery of the work of the Spirit.

In 1524, Desiderius Erasmus published an attack on Luther. Erasmus was Europe’s leading celebrity academic. Erasmus thought people already had enough power in themselves to do good. He defined free choice as "a power of the human will by which a man can apply himself to the things which lead to eternal salvation, or turn away from them." Luther replied, "You do not realize how much you attribute to it by this pronoun 'itself'—its very own self!—when you say it can 'apply itself'; for this means that you completely exclude the Holy Spirit with all his power, as superfluous and unnecessary."

As far as Erasmus was concerned, we just need to try harder. But Luther realized our problem was much more fundamental than that. Our problem is not that we’re lazy or ignorant, but that we’re sinners deep down to the very core of our being. So, if we’re ever going to please God, we need a radical inner transformation. And that’s what the Holy Spirit does.

Be Hatched Or Go Bad

Some valuable words from C.S. Lewis (via Renovare and Devotional Classics: Selected Readings for Individuals and Groups  - Coming In Out of the Wind 

The terrible thing, the almost impossible thing, is to hand over your whole self—all your wishes, and precautions—to Christ.  But it is far easier than what we are trying to do instead.  For what we are trying to do is remain what we call “ourselves,” to keep personal happiness as our great aim in life, and yet at the same time be “good.” We are all trying to let our mind and heart go their own way—centered on money or pleasure or ambition—and hoping, in spite of this, to behave honestly and chastely and humbly.

And that is what Christ warned us you could not do.  As He said, a thistle cannot produce figs.  If I am a field that contains nothing but grass-seed, I cannot produce wheat. Cutting the grass may keep it short: but I shall still produce grass and no wheat. If I want to produce wheat, the change must go deeper than the surface. I must be ploughed up and resown.

That is why the real problem of the Christian life comes where people do not usually look for it. It comes the very moment you wake up each morning. All your wishes and hopes for the day rush at you like wild animals. And the first job each morning consists simply in shoving them all back; in listening to that other voice, taking that other point of view, letting that other larger, stronger, quieter life come flowing in. And so on, all day. Standing back from all your natural fussings and frettings; coming in out of the wind.

We can only do it for moments at first. But from those moments the new sort of life will be spreading through our system: because now we are letting Him work at the right part of us. It is the difference between paint, which is merely laid on the surface, and a dye or stain which soaks right through.

He never talked vague, idealistic gas. When He said, “Be perfect,” He meant it. He meant that we must go in for the full treatment. It is hard; but the sort of compromise we are all hankering after is harder – in fact, it is impossible. It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird; it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad.