Probably most of us like to be recognized, honoured, and respected, but then the question must inevitably arise: 'is that what we live for?' Or, do we live for something bigger, and better, than something that is essentially only self-affirming, selfish? Do we ultimately live just for God? Those are some good questions, ones raised by today's passage, and ones that are well worth looking into.

Well do we proclaim it, but do we actually believe it? What I'm referring to is the idea that God is the God of the impossible. We mouth words to this effect, but do we take it seriously--and, do we act upon it? These are excellent and timely questions, so I suspect that for all our words, we often leave God out of the picture and basically dismiss the possibility of His doing anything. Instead, we turn either to ourselves and our resources, or to other people. If you don't believe this to be true, just look at the problems besetting our families, churches, community, nations and the wider world. How often do we go to God in prayer with regards to them?

Today's passage speaks of God being the God of the impossible in rather grandiose terms. I mean, who can actually believe that Jerusalem will one day be characterized by peace? Or that wild animals will no longer fight each other tooth and nail? Certainly, such things seem quite impossible. But they are exactly the kind of revolutionary about-face that God promises. Wow.

If you're at all like me, you don't know what to make of such promises. But what they do say, is that God is able to do far more than I have ever asked or imagined, and so I do indeed need more frequently to go to Him for help.

One never knows the impact you will have on someone else. In one of my previous parishes, an old friend and colleague of my grandfather told me that my grandfather was the greatest man he ever knew and another person--same parish--said that it was only because of my grandfather that she was able to survive after the sudden death of her husband. And, I know that many teachers have had the experience of former students coming to them--I know that my mother did--and being told how much they meant to them. And even here at St. John's a man owed his very life to a small group of people from the early service. This man had come to church with the thought of making his peace with God and then going out to end his life--but because he was made to feel welcomed and loved and included by these people, he decided to change his mind. And, it was just something little, something pretty ordinary, that made the difference. None of those people even recognized at the time that they had done something profound and life-changing. So it is with much of our words and actions. We never know just what impact we will have.

We, as Christians, as followers and disciples of Jesus Christ, can easily pay lip service to knowing Him and knowing and doing His will. But, do we really spend the time in prayer getting to know Jesus personally and intimately? And, do we, as the psalmist suggests, and moreover appears to live, delight in His word and His laws and dedicate ourselves to understanding them and then carrying out His will in our lives. Our psalmist appears to dedicate himself to this noble pursuit. The question is, “Do we?”

My meditation for today, and its accompanying Scripture passage, touches on the subject of fruitfulness, which is, to my way of thinking, a rather important and crucial question for today's Christian church. Let me put it this way: Is the church reaching out effectively with the good news of Jesus Christ to yet untouched, unconverted populations? Is the church growing on account of these new converts, or merely because of transfers from other churches or because of births from already existing members? Is the church effectively discipling and growing new members in their faith? Is the church effectively rebuilding or healing relationships and making a positive impact on families and communities? Is the church effectively working for justice and for God's kingdom in this world? I'm not sure whether I can answer 'yes' to all these questions, but will leave you to answer these questions on your own. They are some good things to think about.

Today's meditation spoke rather forcibly to me today, as I am a person who is in the habit, unfortunate or not, of greatly prizing and holding on to the past. That is why I have copious files and papers from times past, plus journals. And that is why I relish researching the history of the local church community or of my family. It gives me a sense of belonging (of where I fit in) and a sense of identity. But, as the apostle Paul points out, all this can, potentially, rob us of fully entering into the present and into the new things that God is about to do. Anyway, that is my struggle.

Today's passage and meditation centre on the question of choices, the choices we make with our lives. They focus particularly on the impact that these choices make on our own individual lives. But what isn't mentioned is that they also make an impact on our families and friends, our church and wider community, and on the world in general. None of us is powerless and none of us can claim to have no impact or influence on someone or on the world around us. And so our choices are crucial.

Memory happens to be one of the most precious things that we have, and oh, how frustrating it is when it 'goes'. Trust me, I know. I sometimes rack my brain for hours trying to remember some person's name or some event from the past. And, it seems to get worse with time--or with age.

Today's psalm and meditation touch on the subject of remembering, remembering God and what He has done in the past. However, it is not just an exercise in nostalgia. Remembering God's past actions also makes us away of His character, and especially of the fact that His mercy, His loving kindness, never ends. And so that means that they are still with us today, still with us to help us and encourage and guide us, which is incredibly great news.

Often in the Scriptures there are exhortations to consistency, consistency in our spiritual lives, in loving each other, and in all sorts of other things. Here, in today's passage, the apostle Paul is calling his friend and protege Timothy to consistency in following his God-given calling, which is to be a pastor, teacher and preaching. I would think that Paul, and God, is calling us to consistency as well--in whatever calling God has called us to. But what, then, are our particular callings? For some, it is to whatever occupation or career we have? Or others, it may be to be a parent, grandparent or aunt or uncle? For others, it may be a particular hobby or interest. And, for still others, it may have to do with his or her spiritual gift. (In the New Testament, there are a number of lists of spiritual gifts, Romans 12:6-8 and 1 Corinthians 12:4-11 for instance, but this list is not exhaustive.) Or perhaps, a particular ability or talent. I happen to believe that God has gifted each one of us, and has done so in a way that is particular and unique to each one of us. No one else has quite the combination of work and relationships and interests and gifts as we have. And so God is calling us to be consistent, to be faithful, in making use of those things to the best of our ability.

Paul's advice to his friend and protege Timothy is most appropriate for pretty well all of us. Most of us experience times when we feel tired or frustrated by the seeming immensity of the problems or pressures that we face or feel frustrated by our lack of progress in dealing with them or addressing them. Or we have those times when we feel intimidated by our seeming lack of resources or by the apparent success of others or their seemingly greater skill or experience. We wonder whether it is really 'worth it' after all. We wonder whether we are actually making a difference.

Here, Paul reminds us of two things, firstly, the faithful example of other Christians, past and present, who didn't give up, even in the face of difficulties and insistent pressures and challenges, and secondly, the presence of the Holy Spirit in the lives of each of us. He reminds them, and us, that this Spirit empowered us to face any or all of these resolutely and unafraid. And so, he says, to all of us alike, keep at it, don't give up and 'be not afraid.'

Here's the thousand-dollar question: what's the purpose of our worship of God? Most of us would probably answer this by saying something like 'to honour, praise and glorify God', or 'to come to know Him better and enjoy Him', or something like that. But, is there anything more to it that just that? There are two reasons that I ask. One is something that I used to hear during my Jesus People days. I called it 'My Jesus and Me' syndrome. For people of this mentality, their families, the world around them, all of it could be going 'to hell in a hand basket' and they couldn't care less. As long as they personally 'had' Jesus, nothing else mattered. The other reason comes from today's passage from Isaiah 58 (yes, it is the same passage as yesterday!). There God seems to imply that our worship should have some outward, practical results--in other words, it should impact how we live our lives, and in particular, how we treat others. Anyway, I hope this gives you something to think about.

It would be easy to read ​​​​​​today's passage from Isaiah 58 as touching only on 'big things', like social justice and inequalities, and problems with a lack of food or clothing or housing, and conclude that because these things are so very big, and seemingly so far beyond our reach or our capability to do anything, that this passage has nothing to say to us. However, while it does indeed touch on these big things, it also suggests some very small things, things like kindness, things like listening to each other, or things like speech that is respectful towards one another, that can contribute to rebuilding our society and our world. So, be encouraged: it is often the 'little things' that make all the difference in the world.

The 23rd Psalm is so widely known, and loved, that it is easy to take it for granted--and decide, almost by default, that it has nothing more to teach us. However, today I was taken aback by it, by its first verse, in fact. To me, it spoke loudly about independent we human creatures often like to be, and how resistant we can sometimes be to receiving help or direction from anyone else--including from God. And, in the process, it also posed the question to me about whether I am really willing to trust God to take care of me. Anyway, I hope that this gives you some 'food for thought', just as it did for me.

What can we say? Even the apostle Paul spoke rather tearfully--and vulnerably--about the war that is wages within each one of us (see Romans 7:21-25). But in today's passage from Galatians he gives us hope that we might actually come out on top. That is, if we enlist the work of the Holy Spirit, chose to make use of and incorporate His gifts, and chose to listen to Him and obey Him. And, oh yes, there is also the question of saying 'no' to 'the other side'--or as one person put it, the matter of which one we will feed.

Today's passage reminds me of the importance of the little things in life, the little practices, the little duties--and, especially those that pertain to our personal and spiritual lives. Anna and Simeon, together with Mary and Joseph, were all faithful, faithful to a T, in keeping the age-old traditions of their people--and yes, even Anna and Simeon, when they might well have been excused from such duties because of their age. These things, such things as prayer, Bible study, church attendance and participation, are important to our faith in God, and so too are our words of appreciation and thanks, whether to God or to each other. None of these aforementioned folks gave up on these things--and neither should we.

Today's psalm seems far-removed, and totally unrelated to our everyday lives, and indeed, in its original context (it was probably written for a coronation or its anniversary), but given its use and application over the years, is strangely and remarkably pertinent, especially to us who are Canadians. Verse 8 was chosen as Canada's motto, with its framers knowing almost certainly that it was often taken as pertaining to God's rule and the kind of standards that He sets for His people. Indeed, it is quite probably that they saw it this way.

So, then, it gives us ample room for self-reflection and examination: just how are our leaders doing? And, perhaps more to the point, how are we doing? I think that there is plenty of room for thought here.