Hold Tight, Like Duct Tape

The air-filter cover on my lawnmower is held in place with, yup, duct tape. Try as I might, between the heat of the motor, the heat of the sun, and the vibration of mowing, the cover will not stay in place. Get the duct tape. And you guessed it, the cover now stays in place. It’s not pretty, but it is a quick and functional fix.

As many men have found out over the generations, duct tape will hold together, and often hold tight, objects that do not always want to stay connected. Somehow, we may not know how to use a wrench or a chainsaw, but we can all use duct tape.

In Deuteronomy 4:4 Moses says:

וְאַתֶּם, הַדְּבֵקִים, בַּיהוָה, אֱלֹהֵיכֶם–חַיִּים כֻּלְּכֶם, הַיּוֹם

“And you, who cleaved to the Lord your God, are all alive today.”

In Deuteronomy 4:1-2, Moses exhorts Israel to not add or take away from the commands of the Lord, obey them as given. Then in Deuteronomy 4:3 Moses reminds those standing before him that they are alive this day because they did not go after the falsehood of Baal Poer; rather, they held tight (cleave) to the Lord.

In the doing of the commands taught by Moses (Deut. 4:1), the sin introduced into the camp of Israel by Balaam did not find traction with those hearing the words of Moses on this day. Why? They held tight to the God of Israel.

The word command or מִצְוָה/mitzvah is rooted in a word expressing connection. The rabbis teach that a command is a point of connection with the Lord. Yet, as Moses expresses, the connection goes deeper than just word, but to “cleave.”

The word translated “cleave” in Deuteronomy 4:4 is דָּבֵק/davek. It expresses a joining to or sticking together. In Hasidic Judaism, the rebbe or leader of a Hasidic dynasty, is said to live in a condition of דְּבָקוּת/devakut, a constant communion and clinging to God. Yet, the word goes deeper.

As one clings or cleaves to God, holding tight to, by mitzvah or duct tape, to His ways and nature, we will, by the Holy Spirit, begin to resemble, mirror Him, and imitate Him in our living.

In that closeness, that holding tight, the falsehood of Baal Poer could find no opening in the relationship to enter. In that closeness it was easy to discern what aligned with His will, and what did not.

Messiah Yeshua/Jesus powerfully simplified the obedience to God that can be misconstrued as overly complex, when He urged us to “abide in Me” (Jn. 15:4-11). Did this dismiss obedience to His Word? No, as He further said, “If you love Me, keep My commandments” (Jn. 14:15; 1 Jn. 5:3).

In our joining to Him, as Paul beautifully articulated as being “in Him,” we, in our living, will imitate Him (1 Cor. 11:1). In our devotion, worship, charity, and manner, we will image more of the Imager (Ro. 8:28-29).

In Messiah, we who did not belong to or with Him, are being transformed in Him by His grace. The Holy Spirit is holding us tightly to Him, joining us to Him, resting us in Him, even if at present we do not much seem to resemble Him. Our love for Him, the constant communion He has called us to, will not only change us, but those around us. We cannot always see the evidence of the Holy Spirits work in us, and praise Him for that, but others will not only see it, but they will feel it. The vertical love that we have for the Lord, will be experienced horizontally by others in our lives. And there is the power of resemblance.

My lawnmower does not know that duct tape is holding its air-filter in place, but it runs correctly because it is, and the purpose for which it was made is fulfilled in the mowing of my lawn.

Admittedly, not an exact or perfect parallel, but as the Holy Spirit keeps you tight to Him, the purpose for which you were called to His Kingdom will also be fulfilled, to His glory.

You may look the mess to the passerby, but you have been “fearfully and wonderfully made” (Ps. 139:14). Never forget that simple truth from God’s Word.

Be well. Shalom.

Scars of Restoration

Many years ago I heard a story of an exchange that took place at the mikvah (baptismal) of Rebbe Nachman of Breslov (April 4, 1772 – October 16, 1810), a great-grandson of the Baal Shem Tov. An old chasid (a pious disciple) of Reb Nachman was discouraged to see a young baal tshuvah (master of return, meaning someone who has returned to religious life) covered with tattoos from head to toe enter the mikvah (immersion waters). He asked in anger, “How can you enter the holy waters of Rebbe Nachman’s mikvah looking like this? Get those removed!” The young man answered with a tear in his eye, “I will not get my tattoos removed; because I want the world to see what the teachings of Rebbe Nachman have delivered me from.” Another older man, a holocaust survivor, quieted the old chasid and said to the young man, showing him his own arm, “Don’t worry, I won’t have my tattoo removed either; as I want the world to see the hell that Rebbe Nachman has delivered me from!”

I am always blessed and amazed to see the tapestry the Lord has worked together through Messiah Yeshua/Jesus, woven with our histories and scars. To the untrained eye, it can look a mess; but in the Spirit, the visible and invisible scars become evidence of restoration.

In Matthew 16:13-20 Yeshua asks, “Who do you say I am?” Peter answers in beautiful and poetic language: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.” His answer reveals the knowledge of Yeshua’s identity as the central figure of the Jewish future, and His eternal personhood as the “only begotten.” This is not a revelation originating in the flesh, as no man can reason themselves to faith in the Messiah; rather, the truth of His identity will be revealed to the inward man by the Father, and confirmed here on earth, as the Lord draws us to His Son by the Holy Spirit.

How many of us would love to have had this level of revelation while standing face to face with Yeshua? We could assume that this level of revelation and certainty would ensure, not a trouble or tribulation free faith walk, but at least a firmness of faith in Yeshua. Yet, Peter, just a short time after this confession, on the evening when Yeshua was arrested and tried, denied Him.

We are all well aware of this circumstance, as Yeshua said, “Amen, I tell you, today – this very night – before a rooster crows twice, you will deny Me three times” (Mk. 14:30). Peter, of course, boldly declares that he will never deny Him (Mk. 14:31); yet, he did (Mk. 15:66-72).

Peter’s life, discipleship, denial, and restoration has been a constant reminder to me personally, and to my life as a shepherd. I should have been disqualified before I even began to walk with Him if He judged me based on my broken word to Him. How many promises made and broken? Promises to give more, prayer more, study more, witness more, etc., always more, more, more … an inclination to “more-ness” does not demonstrate an accurate understanding of the gospel. We have all done this.

How then, do we avoid feelings of rejection, failure, inadequacy in light of this, or shame for the scars we continue to bear?

Peter was the oldest of the disciples from what we can tell. Peter is like a big brother, fumbling along before the other younger disciples, helping to search out this way of faith in Messiah. Yet, when Peter needed to stand firm, he failed. His failure did not look good.

Here’s the good news. Yeshua does not need any of us to stand for Him in ourselves; and that was Peter’s mistake, attempting to stand in his own faith and courage. Peter, yet to be regenerate by the risen Messiah, was powerless to stand against a simple question and assertion put to him by a young woman. We can only stand in Him.

I’ve often wondered how Peter felt, where he went, and what he experienced in those hours between his denial and learning of Messiah’s resurrection. Lost to history, but from personal experience, we can probably relate to his pain and feelings of isolation.

John records the beautiful scene of Peter’s restoration in John 21:15-17; but Yeshua already revealed the way to his restoration, even before Peter’s repentance. In Mark 16:7, as Mary and her company of women observe the empty tomb, the angel says to them, “But go, tell His disciples and Peter, ‘He is going before them to the Galilee…” Mark, who is recording the gospel according to Peter, is the only one to record “and Peter.” Matthew had no need to, Luke would have closely investigated the matter and found it an accepted fact, and John includes his own restoration narrative.

The angel announced what others might have doubted: the restoration of Peter who publicly denied Yeshua. Before Peter could announce the Gospel to Jerusalem in Acts 2, to Gentiles in Acts 10, and defend the inclusion of those who should be excluded in Acts 15, wholly restored, was used mightily even with the deep scar of public denial.

Once on the mission field, a bishop of important standing spotted a scar, or more accurately a brand on my arm. He said, “In my culture that means you are a slave.” The “brand” was the result of a night of heavy drinking as a young man. Several of us decided to test who could hold a hot lighter on their arm the longest. Needless to say, none of us remembered who “won,” but we did wake up to the pain. My response to the bishop was, “I was a slave to sin, but now I am a slave to God.”

What the enemy meant as sign of our disqualification, the Lord renews into a scar of reconciliation, and a living sign of our qualification in Him. When you feel that your internal scars or external scars have disqualified you, as I have taught many times before, learn how to say, “tell his disciples and ______ …” fill in your name. If the angels rejoice at one sinner coming to salvation, and heaven has called you by name, then there is not textual difficulty in personalizing this text that restored Peter as a reminder of the restoration in your own life, or the lives of those around you. Those unpleasant looking scars are a beautiful witness and testimony of the hell “has delivered me from!” Glory to His name!

Be well. Shalom.

Last Words …

Lou Gehrig, the iron horse, played 2,130 consecutive games as a professional baseball player. Nicknamed the iron horse, with his record of games played, he was thought to be indestructible, a man of endurance and health. Yet, on July 4, 1939 he stood for one last time as a ball player at Yankee Stadium and gave what is now remembered as the Luckiest Man farewell speech. He ended his emotional speech by saying:

“So I close in saying that I may have had a tough break, but I have an awful lot to live for.”

The iron horse had been diagnosed with ALS, amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. Because of his national prominence, ALS is often referred to as Lou Gehrig’s disease. I am not sure if Mr. Gehrig had planned what he would say that July 4th day, but, even while facing the reality of this fatal disease, he spoke with dignity and grace:

“Fans, for the past two weeks you have been reading about the bad break I got. Yet today I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of this earth.”

Last words. What a topic. At some point in our human experience, we will say our “last words.” What will they be? Only the Lord knows; but if we follow Him, I pray they will be filled with grace, and seasoned with salt (Col. 4:6).

We have a record of the last words of Moses. They are called Deuteronomy. Unfortunately, tradition has labeled this shepherds song Δευτερονόμιον, or “Second Law.” In Hebrew it is referred to as דְּבָרִים‎/devarim, or words, from its opening verse:

אֵלֶּה הַדְּבָרִים, אֲשֶׁר דִּבֶּר מֹשֶׁה אֶל-כָּל-יִשְׂרָאֵל

“These are the words that Moses spoke to all Israel …”

What unfolds over the course of thirty-four (34) chapters is a love letter from a shepherd to the people of God’s flock that he has lead, in their ups and downs, for more than forty (40). Dr. Daniel Block rightly calls Deuteronomy “the gospel of Moses.” As their leader, he is preparing them to be “light to the nations.” A journey he will not lead them on. See, Moses is standing in the final moments of his race. He is summarizing the road thus far. He is warning of what lay ahead. He is encouraging. He is praising God, and he is admonishing Israel to see itself as the Lord sees them. In Deuteronomy 1:10:

יְהוָה אֱלֹהֵיכֶם, הִרְבָּה אֶתְכֶם; וְהִנְּכֶם הַיּוֹם, כְּכוֹכְבֵי הַשָּׁמַיִם לָרֹב

“The Lord your God has increased you, and see, you are today as numerous as the stars of the heavens.”

Moses, reminding Israel of the promise given to Abraham in Genesis 15:5 of the stars representing the multitude of his descendants (cf. Rev. 7:9), points them to the stars of the heavens and the light they shine upon the earth. What does this have to do with words?

Moses was speaking his last words as the leader of Israel, in four beautiful discourses. He was one of those stars promised. Still, even though he would not lead them into the Promised Land, because of his sin, his words to Israel are graciously seasoned with salt. Why? Stars are not jealous of other stars.

The largest known star in the universe is called UY Scuti. It is enormous. According to astronomers it is 1,700 larger than the radius of our own sun. Yet, our sun is not jealous of it, and it does not speak poorly of it either. The light of a distant star may not be immediately noticed, either because of distance, other galaxies or perhaps it finds itself settled on the other side of UY Scuti. Still, we are told that their presence has influence on our presence in this universe. What is the message? Simple: shine.

Gehrig died two years after his famous speech. He could have used his time to scorn life, other baseball teams, or his famous rival and former teammate Babe Ruth, with whom he did reconcile. Moses could have berated Israel; rather, he urged them on in faith. Why? Stars are not jealous of other stars. They shine.

Jealousy is warned against in numerous places in Scripture. It will make us think, react, speak, and view the world and all that is in it in a manner contrary to the will of God. It can make our last words to someone terribly bitter or harsh. Jealousy will burn out the light we have been graced with.

After Paul gives us his beautiful exposition on the Fruit of the Spirit (Gal. 5:22-23), “but the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control,” he calls for us, as fruitful disciples, to “not become conceited, provoking one another, envying one another” (Gal. 5:26).

This is one of the trials of life and faith: trusting in the sovereign hand of God. None of us are called to be the UY Scuti of heaven, as that position is reserved for One only, Yeshua/Jesus (Num. 24:17; Rev. 22:,16); but we, in Him and in His promise, are called stars. I may not see the light He is causing you to shine, but I certainly feel it and am influenced by it, as you are shining Him.

It may seem that you are on the dark side of the galaxy in heavens economy, but if He is the center of your universe, the light He has caused you to shine will be felt, even if it is not seen. Trust Him, He has set you in His galaxy of stars for a reason.

I know little about Lou Gehrig, but the words of his final speech have lingered in my mind since I first heard it as a child. Human life is fragile, and we never know when or what our last words will be, let us pray that they are words of life, encouragement and faith in the One who is greater than 2 trillion galaxies combined.

Be well. Shalom.