The Bible teaches us that human sin and guilt have certain inevitable consequences:  pain, misery, distress, etc.  The presence of pain, misery, and distress in this world offers us ample opportunity to demonstrate the beauty of mercy.

But that’s not our natural inclination in the face of pain, misery, and distress.

Our tendency is rather to insulate ourselves against all of the trials and tribulations of other people (see Luke 10.30–32).  Our tendency is to find revenge delicious when we feel that someone has wronged us (see 1 Samuel 25).  We kind of cheer when someone says to the bad guy, “May God have mercy on your soul, because I sure as *#$@ won’t.”

But consider the mercy of King Jesus.  How often do we see him healing, helping, extending relief to the miserable, the sick, and the outcast?  And do you remember what he prayed about those men who were hammering him to the tree?  (See Luke 23.34.) The angels themselves must have looked at one another in utter astonishment… “Did you hear what he just said?”

King Jesus shows mercy.  And the faithful citizens of his kingdom must follow him here too, for the king has decreed:  “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy” (Matthew 5.7).

That is the king’s command.  Those who show mercy find it.

Those who pretend to live under the banner of the king but aren’t showing mercy may one day find that they’ve been climbing a ladder that’s been leaning against the wrong wall (see Matthew 18.21–35).

Rest in the mercy of Jesus.  It’ll grow on you.

The picture used above is of the USNS Mercy anchored off the coast of Jolo City, Philippines, in June 2006. The Mercy’s staff assisted thousands of local citizens with medical and dental care. U.S. Navy photo by Chief Photographer’s Mate Edward G. Martens.

“It was a dark and stormy night…”

Many of you will recognize these as the immortal words of Snoopy, that aspiring novelist.  Snoopy often sat on top of his dog house, hunched over his typewriter, trying to get the rest of his great novel to flow out of that opening sentence.

But what you may not know is that Snoopy actually borrowed those words from Edward George Bulwer–Lytton, a Victorian novelist who died in the 1800’s.

Bulwer–Lytton used those words to begin his novel, Paul Clifford.  And every year, in July, the “Bulwer–Lytton Award” is given to the novel that is distinguished by having the absolutely WORST opening sentence of any novel published the previous year.

Now, I don’t know what Bulwer–Lytton’s novel Paul Clifford was all about, but we all know this much about it, don’t we?  We know that in the first chapter something BAD is going to happen.

“It was a dark and stormy night…”

The reader is just waiting for the story to start off with some accident or crime that will become the problem that has to be resolved throughout the rest of the narrative.

In literature (and in movies) what’s happening in nature often reflects what’s happening at the center of the story. 

There’s a reason why it’s “always winter and never Christmas” in Narnia at the beginning of The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe.  And there’s also a reason why that long winter starts rapidly thawing into a beautiful spring in the middle of that story.  Aslan is on the move.

Or — if you’re more of a Tolkien person — compare the beauty of the Shire with the dark gloom of Mordor. 

Beauty (or the lack of beauty) in the surrounding environment reflects what’s happening at the center of the story. 

Well, the same is true in God’s story.

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Cornerstone continues to enjoy an abundance of new little girls!  With Baby Miriam’s arrival yesterday, this makes four in the last forty–three days.  If you’re familiar with the joy of little girls, you’ll know that this is not considered to be a “surplus” of little girls.  Nor would the words “excess” or “glut” come into play.  One should rather think of it as a “wealth” of little girls.  Yea, even a “bounty.”

As Martin Luther once put it — in his typically reserved and timid way of speaking — “People who do not like children are swine, dunces, and blockheads, not worthy to be called men and women, because they despise the blessing of God, the Creator and Author of marriage.”

C.S. Lewis (who, ironically, wrote some of the most wonderful children’s literature ever printed) confessed his own flaws in this respect.  He once wrote of himself: “I theoretically hold that one ought to like children, but am shy with them in practice.” In another place he wrote: “I myself do not enjoy the society of small children:… I recognize this as a defect in myself.”

But by faith Christians say with Paul that our children are “holy” (1 Corinthians 7.14), and we lift them up in our hands before the Lord and give him deepest thanks.

“And as for me, this is my covenant with them,” says the Lord: “My Spirit that is upon you, and my words that I have put in your mouth, shall not depart out of your mouth, or out of the mouth of your offspring, or out of the mouth of your children’s offspring,” says the Lord, “from this time forth and forevermore.”
—Isaiah 59.21

Here’s an action shot of a few of the ladies who recently attended the Cornerstone Women’s Retreat.  This year’s topic was “Resting in God.” Kate Q. led the discussion, and I understand it was wonderful.  I — not being a lady — decided not to attend.  But here’s a blurb on the retreat from a recent church newsletter:

We serve a God who rested on the seventh day and set apart one day in seven for his people to enjoy rest.  Jesus promises rest to all who come to him, but so often our lives seem hectic and full of anxiety rather than peaceful and full of Christ’s rest.  Join other women of Cornerstone as we take time together to rest, connect with one another, and remind ourselves of the joy of Resting in God.

The last time we were in our category entitled “The Story,” I offered you the award–winning post of January 29, 2008… “Vi–king: (n.) a sea–roving bandit; pirate.”

Okay, it hasn’t actually won any awards quite yet.  Patience…

But now — as promised — let’s take a further peek into how the gospel brought an end to the Age of the Vikings.  Note well that what I’m about to report is certainly not commendable or praiseworthy in all of its particulars. 

Yet this is also part of the story of the church… God sovereignly working good — not only through the wickedness of the church’s enemies (as we saw last time) — but the story of God even working good through the misguided foolishness of the church itself.

Meet Olaf Trygvesson.  Olaf was a Viking’s Viking.  It was said that he could out–swim, out–climb, out–leap, and out–fight anyone.  He could juggle five daggers in the air, always catching them by the handle.  In all measures of Viking–ness, he was unmatched.

He was a far–traveling warrior, terrorizing Holland, France, Jutland, England, Northumberland, Scotland, the Hebrides, other Vikings on the Isle of Man, Ireland, Wales, Cornwall, etc.  History records that everywhere he went, he would leave “in his wake a great harvest for the ravens and wolves.” People fled at his name.  He was infamous for slaughtering his victims with a savage cruelty, “sparing neither the women nor children of tender age.”

On one occasion he returned to England, “burning villages, laying waste the lands, putting numbers of people to death by fire and sword, without regard to sex, and sweeping off an immense booty.”

But after an interesting encounter with a fortuneteller who claimed to have the gift of prophecy from the Christian God, Olaf was baptized… promising never again to visit war upon England.

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