https://theaquilareport.com/jonis-songs-of-suffering/
One of the keys to Joni’s suffering is singing. As she suffers the effects of her paralysis, as she endures chronic pain, as she persists through illness, she sings. And it’s out of her singing-through-suffering that she brings a new book titled Songs of Suffering. This book is a series of devotionals based upon 25 hymns that have proven especially precious to her.
Few people have a sweeter and kinder spirit than Joni Eareckson Tada. Few people have suffered longer and more consistently than Joni Eareckson Tada. These two things—sweetness and suffering—do not necessarily go together, but by God’s grace they can and often do. They most certainly do in Joni’s life which is one of the reasons so many of us admire and honor her.
One of the keys to Joni’s suffering is singing. As she suffers the effects of her paralysis, as she endures chronic pain, as she persists through illness, she sings. And it’s out of her singing-through-suffering that she brings a new book titled Songs of Suffering. This book is a series of devotionals based upon 25 hymns that have proven especially precious to her.
“I have lived with quadriplegia for more than half a century,” she explains, “and have wrestled with chronic pain for much of that time. I struggle with breathing problems and am in an ongoing battle against cancer. All this makes for a perfect storm for discouragement.”
Yet when my hip and back are frozen in pain, or it’s simply another weary day of plain paralysis, I strengthen myself with Jesus’s example in the upper room.
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Three Disciplines of a Happy Christian Leader
Studying the writings of a pastor-theologian from a different historical context opened my eyes for seeing well-worn paths in new ways. The means of grace are not new or innovative concepts, but rather the ancient paths reinvigorated by considering them afresh through the lens of a joy-absorbed sage.
During a particularly stressful period of pastoral ministry, I began to more intentionally seek out joy in God as the dire remedy for my own frayed and threadbare heart.
I had diagnosed myself as markedly joy-deficient when I searched for evidence of the fruit of the Spirit in my life (Galatians 5:22). At age 35, leading a midsize Presbyterian church was already wearing me out. I became stressed at home and frustrated in the office. My coworkers could see it on my face. I needed a deeper source of joy than the world could give, despite its barrage of empty-promise advertisements and panaceas.
So, for nearly three years, I plunged headlong into a deep study on eternal happiness from the theologian of joy, Jonathan Edwards. I surveyed large swaths of his major works and personal writings, mining for gladdening gold.
In my study, I learned at least three methods for maintaining joy in God that Edwards practiced in his own life amid the relentless trials and strains of pastoral ministry. Although most Christians are already familiar with these methods, I discovered that studying the writings of a pastor-theologian from a different historical context opened my eyes for seeing well-worn paths in new ways. The means of grace discussed below are not new or innovative concepts, but rather the ancient paths reinvigorated by considering them afresh through the lens of a joy-absorbed sage.
Creation: God’s Beauty on Display
First, Edwards rejoiced in the natural world and the beauty of creation. Edwards saw a strong connection between beauty and joy. Both beauty and joy are to be found in the “excellencies” of God’s nature, by which Edwards meant the praiseworthy attributes of his essential being. These include God’s holiness, love, power, mercy, and righteousness, just to name a few.
One of the ways that Edwards savored the excellencies and beauties of God was through engaging with, and enjoying, his natural creation. For Edwards, being in and among the creatures in the natural realm stirred his affections for God’s creative power and beauty, in turn stoking the fires of joy in his heart.
Edwards in the Woods
In his Personal Narrative, Edwards described what may have been the most ecstatic experience of his life, a vision of Jesus that he beheld in the woods when riding his horse:
Once, as I rid out into the woods for my health . . . as my manner commonly has been, to walk for divine contemplation and prayer; I had a view, that for me was quite extraordinary, of the glory of the Son of God; as mediator between God and man; and his wonderful, great, full, pure and sweet grace and love, and meek and gentle condescension . . . which continued, as near as I can judge about an hour; which kept me, the bigger part of the time, in a flood of tears, and weeping aloud. (Works of Jonathan Edwards, 16:801)
Although Edwards was constantly in his study and among his books, he also greatly treasured the outdoors and drank in the beauty of God’s created world whenever possible. He drew upon natural themes for his sermon illustrations, and spoke often of the light of the sun, the taste of honey, water from spring fountains, and the like. Just as John Calvin wrote in the Institutes, Edwards saw the universe as the beautiful “theater” of God’s glory (1.6.3).
Walk Out of the Study
One of the very practical things that I learned from Edwards is to see vestiges of the gospel in the creation itself. In his notebook on Images (or Shadows) of Divine Things, Edwards constantly peered through creation to see the gospel everywhere around him.
For Edwards, “roses upon briers” are a type of Christ’s glory (the flower) wrought by suffering (thorns). In lightning, he saw a type of the wrath of God, threatening judgment. The rising and setting of the sun he viewed as a type of the death and resurrection of Christ. Even in the lowly silkworm, Edwards saw a type of Christ’s righteousness given to men (the silk) through the suffering and humiliation of Christ (the lowly worm). We too can begin to make these types of observations.
Almost every pastor or Christian leader would do well to spend more time in nature. We could start, for example, by using a day each month to take an intentional prayer walk through a local park, or even by doing some simple gardening in our own yard. I recently listened to the story of another pastor in my city who took a four-week sabbatical, not to study or write in a library, but to spend eight hours a day among the trees in a nearby nature preserve, thinking and praying. He came back refreshed and renewed for his third decade of ministry. At the very least, pastors could make it a regular practice to journal about spiritual insights gleaned from nature and creation in a journal similar to Edwards’s Images of Divine Things notebook.
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What Keepers Can Teach Us About the Hypostatic Union
The hypostatic union is the theological term for the fact that Jesus, in his incarnation, has two natures. He is (and always has been/always will be) the eternal Son of God, the second person of the Trinity. In Jesus, the fullness of God dwells. He has all the attributes of God, all the excellencies of Yahweh, and all the prerogatives of deity. They are all his. He is omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent. He is truly God….Jesus was also truly man, descended from Adam and Abraham, in the line of Judah and David. He was limited in time, space, and knowledge…he is truly human.
In honor of the World Cup semi-final later today between Argentina and Croatia—which will be absolutely bonkers, by the way—here is a post to help spiritualize your soccer watching. Goalkeepers have a lot to teach us concerning the hypostatic union, the person/nature distinction evident in Jesus, and the kenosis of the Son of God.
Hypostatic union:
Goalkeepers are by far the most interesting players on the soccer field. They really do exist in two different planes. First, they are just like every other player. All the laws of soccer apply to them. The equipment rules are the same for every player. They take up a spot on the roster. They can go anywhere on the field, and do everything that any other soccer player can do. All the rules apply to them. They are, in short, just another player.
But then there is the second plane: inside the penalty area, they suddenly acquire a new nature. When they are in the 18, they can use their hands. They are protected from challenges. Other players cannot interfere with their ability to release the ball. There is a whole set of rules governing what they are allowed to do with the ball when it is in their hands, and these rules don’t apply to the other players.
Basically, the goal-keeper is a walking contradiction. Now, for most keepers and in most games, the dual nature of the position is irrelevant. Many keepers are content to stay inside the area, doing goal keeper things, and being treated by fans, officials, and opponents alike as if they were special—because, let’s face it, when they are in the box, they are sort of special.
But every now and then you’ll encounter a more adventurous keeper; one who leaves the 18 to take a free kick upfield, or to release pressure by receiving passes. Sometimes they will go all the way to the other end to take a free kick, or get on the receiving side of a corner, or maybe just to get involved in the attack.
Why would a keeper do this? Perhaps their team is down a goal, or maybe he has the best shot of any one else? It could be that he just got bored staying put. But the point is, he doesn’t really need a reason. After all, the other players don’t need special reasons to do what they do, and once the keeper steps outside of his box, he is just like every other player.
The hypostatic union is the theological term for the fact that Jesus, in his incarnation, has two natures. He is (and always has been/always will be) the eternal Son of God, the second person of the Trinity. In Jesus, the fullness of God dwells. He has all the attributes of God, all the excellencies of Yahweh, and all the prerogatives of deity. They are all his. He is omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent. He is truly God. That is nature #1.
Jesus was also truly man, descended from Adam and Abraham, in the line of Judah and David. He was limited in time, space, and knowledge. He was just like every other player on the field, in that he is truly human; that is nature #2.
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The Four Separations of Sin
A just God cannot simply ignore sin. A god who does not take sin seriously is not just; he is evil. For God to end our separation from him, he must be both just and the justifier of sinners (Romans 3:26). Though this may seem like an unsolvable logical problem, God speaks to us through scripture and says, “Come let us reason together, though your sins are as scarlet they will be white as snow (Isaiah 1:18).”
Right now, you and I are experiencing the effects of sin, even if we are not conscious of it. When Adam fell and sin entered this world, it wreaked all kinds of havoc. One of sin’s most detrimental effects is that it causes separation, specifically, four types of separation. Francis Schaeffer once laid these out in his book, Genesis in Space and Time. Though all four separations are devastating, I will work from the least to most significant.
1. Separation from Nature
At this moment, nature is not at rest. As beautiful as it is and declaring the glory of God (Psalm 19:1), scripture says it is currently in the pangs of childbirth, waiting for all things to be set right (Romans 8:22). Sometimes referred to as natural evil, this world is filled with hurricanes, tornados, tsunamis, earthquakes, and many other natural disasters. Even animal life is red in tooth and claw. Humanity was created to live in harmony and dominion over nature. The creation mandate was to be fruitful and multiply and work the land as good stewards, Adam’s sin, along with our own, has perverted this work, and even nature is crying out for redemption. We must now work the land with the sweat of our brow, fighting against thorns and thistles which remind us that things are not the way they should be (Genesis 3:18). God is using nature to reveal his judgment against sin.
2. Separation of Mankind from Himself
We are also experiencing separation within ourselves. This is sometimes called psychological separation, but there is more to it than psychology. We are no longer at peace with ourselves. We have psychological issues. We deal with fear, anxiety, depression, loneliness, and many other issues. In our attempts to cover our internal conflict, we deceive ourselves and others. The truth we know about God we attempt to suppress to clear our consciences (Romans 1:18), but it will never work. In relation to the separation of sin in nature, even our bodies rebel against us; we must fight aging and decay. If that is not enough, we must also contend with disease and disorder.
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