Healing Rays of Righteousness

Through Dark Valleys

During several difficult and dark times of uncertainty, anxiety, and loss, in my life, I frequently turned to the familiar words of Psalm 23 for reassurance and renewal of my trust in God.  I repeatedly found strength in quoting verse 6 of Psalm 23 in my thoughts.  “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff they comfort me.”

Because I found the comfort and encouragement that I needed in those times, Psalm 23 became my “go to” passage in my pastoral ministry as chaplain to those going through the dark valley of approaching death and to those grieving the loss of a loved one.

The power of the psalm lies in its simplicity.  The “Lord” is portrayed as the caring shepherd who loves his sheep and is their constant provider of nourishment and rest, and protector against all evil enemies.

The words “Even though I walk through the darkest valley” speak not only of physical death, but also of those terribly frightening and shadowed places in life’s journey when we scarcely know what the next step is to take.  It speaks of those times and places when the beauty and serenity of life is either threatened or shattered by crisis or tragedy.  There is nothing calm or soothing about this scene, but it is the reality of living in this world.

And yet, from the shadows we hear the voice of faith, “The Lord … my shepherd” walks with me, cares about my well-being and leads me through the valley of scary darkness.  The psalmist takes comfort in knowing that the Shepherd is with him and has a rod and staff at the ready to protect him.

It is so comforting and reassuring to me to hear the psalmist candidly facing the inevitable.  He realistically declares not “if” but “though I walk through the darkest valley.”   Yes, there are times that we are not “lying down in green pastures” or resting “besides quiet waters” but are instead walking through a valley of darkness.

Though none of us will live life without needing to walk through a dark valley, the psalmist makes it clear that God does not intend for us to stay in this scary place.  The valley of darkness is something one goes through.  Dark valleys are not resting places, but passageways to a better place.

We can walk through our problems.  We can walk through our sorrows.  We can walk through our pain.  We can walk through our screw-ups.  What Psalm 23:4 promises us is that, in all these dark valley journeys, the Lord, our Shepherd, will walk through with us.

It is reassuring to know that our Shepherd has journeyed through this dark valley before.  The only reason for leading sheep through a dark valley where there might be risk to the sheep is because the shepherd knows there’s something on the other side of the valley that the flock needs for them to flourish; and that he, the Shepherd, can handle whatever threats to the sheep that might occur while passing through.

Though we are going through a scary place of deadly risk, the psalmist says his fear is eclipsed by the presence of God: “for you are with me.”  Only the Lord’s presence can give us complete comfort and security.  Along with his presence the Lord also protects us by his almighty power and goodness: “your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”  The “rod” beats off the external enemy, while the crooked “staff” snatches us from harm’s way and our own wandering foolishness.

Whether our dark valleys are times of trouble or the actual passage through death itself, we can be confident that God is not only with us but is more than equal to whatever threats to our well-being that may lurk within the times of darkness.

“The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.”  He makes me … He leads me … He refreshes me …  He guides me … He is with me … He comforts me … He anoints me. “Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

THANKS BE TO GOD!

“Healing Rays of Righteousness” – April 29, 2020

www.geigler13.wordpress.com

Ray M. Geigley

Fearing Tomorrow

On the evening of that first Easter Day, the disciples locked themselves in a room, fearful of what might happen tomorrow. They were certain that the enemies of Jesus would now come after them, his disciples, and the thought of possible death by crucifixion terrified them. That fearful consequence now loomed greater because Jesus’ body was gone from the tomb and they could be accused of stealing it.  And so, they hid behind locked doors.

Maybe you are hiding in fear of tomorrow right now. Someone you dearly loved has died, and the thought of the tomorrow without that person has you paralyzed, feeling alone, abandoned, and afraid. Or, because of an aggressive and deadly coronavirus you’ve lost your job or small business and are now wondering how you will survive financially.  Or, you have suffered through a painful marriage and divorcement and the thought of loving again is so risky and frightening that you want to lock yourself away from such possibility.

In grief counseling, we talk about living into a new normal after the death of a loved one.  We know there is no returning to the normal we knew and were comfortable with.  But facing the need to live into a new normal is scary, uncertain, and uncomfortable, allowing anxiety and fear to build and threatening to overwhelm our emotional and physical well-being.

We disciples of Jesus living today, like the disciples of Jesus in the week following the first Easter Sunday, are not immune to fear’s consuming attack, robbing us of the joy and peace that Jesus alive offers us. And so, I find it easy to identify with the anxious, fearful disciples of Jesus because I also have experienced those times of being fearful, weak in faith and untrusting.

It also helps me to remember that these men whom Jesus had recruited to be his disciples were not atheists or agnostics.  They may not have been religious scholars, but they certainly were familiar with the Psalms. They no doubt grew up reciting, “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. …Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; …” 

I am certain they were familiar with the stories of Joshua, Moses, and the other heroes of the Old Testament. And furthermore, they had been with Jesus for three years, and often heard him encouraging them and others to trust him and to not be afraid. But in their time of crisis they became very anxious and afraid, just like me.

And so, I think the first words of Jesus to his fear-filled disciples, “Peace be with you” was much more than a simple familiar greeting. I believe he gave them a gift, a holy treasure, the gift of peace. And when he showed them the nail prints in his hands and the great wound in his side, they “were overjoyed” for they saw the visible evidence of his aliveness, and in seeing him present with them, believed and received his gift of peace.

To experience the powerful, loving presence of the Risen Christ is the best antidote for the many fears that cause us to hide behind locked doors.  To see the resurrected wounds of his love for us in his hands and side and to hear him say “Peace be with you!” is the greatest of all joys.

Sunday worship celebrating Christ’s resurrection with its certain hope of life beyond the grave is wondrous news, but Monday morning’s reality with its tomorrows of disappointments and difficulties sets in and we soon become anxious and fearful.

Diagnosis disappoint, surgeries fail, businesses go bankrupt, investments evaporate, tornadoes and earthquakes destroy, cancer consumes, accidents happen, relationships end, and there is no returning to what was normal before.

But John’s gospel story reminds us that the calming, powerful presence of the risen Christ comes into our shuttered hiding places and into our darkest valleys and offers us his peace and joy. And with the psalmist we can say, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.”

With the good news of Easter Sunday still fresh in our minds and hearts, let us open wide the locked door and allow the living Lord Jesus Christ to enter into our life and enable us to joyfully greet each new tomorrow with “Good morning, Lord” instead of a fearful “Good lord, morning.”

“Healing Rays of Righteousness” – April 22, 2020

www.geigler13.wordpress.com

Ray M. Geigley

I Have Seen the Lord Alive

Probably no one has ever loved Jesus more than Mary Magdalene. She had sinned so much, and His gracious, full forgiveness completely changed her life. She could never forget His love and kindness toward her.

That’s why, being overwhelmed with grief, she stands outside the tomb weeping. She knew Jesus was dead. The spear that pierced Jesus side had also killed her joy and left her hopeless. Now gone was all purpose and meaning in her life. And she weeps in awful, miserable aloneness and silence.

Bending down to look again into the tomb she sees “two angels in white, seated where Jesus’ body had been,” who ask her, “Woman, why are you crying?” Blinded by her tears, she didn’t recognize the angels. Turning around to look away from the tomb, she sees another person standing near her who also asks, “Woman, why are you crying?” Thinking he was the gardener; she asks for Jesus’ dead body. That’s the most she could hope for.

Then Jesus speaks her name, “Mary” and suddenly the morning became more glorious than she could have ever imagined. She sees Jesus alive and speaking her name. Her joy and hope are restored and the emptiness in her soul is filled with His living presence. Her Lord is no longer dead, but alive and standing by her side. I think her feet must have felt like wings as she ran to tell the disciples, “I have seen the Lord!”

Each Easter Sunday we again hear the story of Jesus’ resurrection from death to life and are invited to make His story our story of believing faith. Can we say with Mary, “I have seen the Lord.”?  Are we convinced that Jesus has risen, that He is alive? Are we experiencing the presence and power of this gloriously triumphant living Christ in our daily lives?

In writing to Timothy, the apostle Paul declares that Christ Jesus “has destroyed death and has brought life and immortality to light through the gospel.” (2 Timothy 1:10). Jesus did not do away with death. We still experience it, but He did deactivate death’s power, and now death is powerless and cannot destroy us. By his glorious resurrection, Jesus destroyed death’s power over us with all its mystery and finality.

In the Gospel writer’s later life, being banish on the Isle of Patmos and facing death, John is given a vision of Christ, who encourages him, and us, with these words, “Do not be afraid. I am the First and the Last. I am the Living One; I was dead, and now look, I am alive for ever and ever! And I hold the keys of death and Hades.” (Rev. 1:17b-18).

Tommy Dorsey, jazzman and gospel songwriter, was singing in a revival meeting in St. Louis when he got the awful new. This young performer was handed a telegram that read, “Your wife is dead.”

He had left her at home in the last month of pregnancy. The last look into her face was of Nettie sound asleep. All seemed well. Now, she was dead. She had given birth to a son, but within a day he also died. Both were buried in the same casket. Tommy fell apart in his soul, his inner peace was shattered, his faith severely damaged.

The following Saturday he meandered close to a piano, sat down, and started to fiddle with the keys. A new melody surfaced as his fingers softly struck the keys. Heartfelt lyrics formed in his mind, and out of the sorrow of death, came these words of faith that we still sing today:
          “Precious Lord, take my hand, lead me on, let me stand,
           I am tired, I am weak, I am worn.
          Through the storm, through the night, lead me on to the light,
          take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home.”

That’s our faith. Because Jesus “destroyed death’s power” with his resurrection, we can face the apparent mystery and finality of death, with this song of prayer and faith in our heart and on our lips. “Take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home.”

As the morning sun rises in the east, announcing a new day, let us always remember that most amazing and wonderful morning when Mary and the disciples discovered the tomb was empty. And, just like Mary, Jesus sends us to go and excitedly tell others, “I have seen the Lord.”  Yes, He is risen! He is alive! Hallelujah!

“Healing Rays of Righteousness” – April 15, 2020
http://www.geigler13.wordpress.com
Ray M. Geigley

God and Darkness

During my life and pastoral ministry experiences I have learned and come to greatly appreciate the truths learned from the dark events of Holy Week. One of these awesome truths is that God is present in the dark places of our journey just as much as He is in the places of light. Granted, that is most often very difficult to believe and even more difficult to experience.

However, when we give serious thought to God’s presence in the deep darkness which overwhelmed Jesus hanging in painful agony on the cross, we are left speechless, and hopefully also encouraged.

This coming Sunday, Easter morning, many Christians will joyfully sing of Christ’s glorious resurrection as though the cross and crucifixion was nothing more than a temporary inconvenience for Jesus; something like a trip to the dentist, painful but endurable, if over quickly and the consequence makes the painful suffering worthwhile.

In their story of Good Friday, both Mark and Luke record that “At noon, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon.” (Mk. 15:33). Jesus had hung on the cross for three hours before noon, then darkness came over the whole land. For three more hours, Jesus suffered in the dense darkness that blocked out the mid-day sun.

We can rightly know that this darkness was more than just a fact of the day’s appearance. It was also an accurate description of what Jesus was experiencing. This darkness encompassed and overwhelmed His whole being – body, soul, and spirit.

The physical torture of crucifixion, with its excruciating pain, was designed by the governing authorities to send waves of darkness and fear coursing through the victim’s body. But for Jesus there was also the darkness of being ridiculed, abandoned, and rejected by His own people, including His dear friends and disciples.

There was also the deep darkness of taking on and carrying the fullness of the world’s sin. This darkness of sin separated Him from His heavenly Father, who “is light: and in (whom) is no darkness at all.” (1 John 1:5).

Think of it. The heavens went dark and silent, covering the whole world in darkness, and He could not see nor hear His Father. Most certainly, Jesus felt utterly alone. Who could fully understand and empathize with Him and His suffering? Nobody. We hear Christ verbalize His agony when He cried out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” But even when Jesus felt most forsaken by God, He affirmed His relationship by crying out “My God, my God.”

We say Jesus was alone, betrayed by Judas, denied by Peter, and deserted by His friends and disciples. But was Jesus abandoned by God and alone? I think not. It is true, God could not stand between Jesus and sin’s darkness, holding off the pain and protecting him from death, the judgement of sin.

So where was God on that terrible dark Friday? He was there, watching and suffering with His Son as he made the ultimate sacrifice of his life for the sins of the world. He was there waiting and when Jesus loudly cried “Finished” and died, burst forth with earth-shaking light that completely tore the Temple curtain that separated man from Himself, and caused a centurion to testify, “Surely this man was the Son of God!” (Mk. 15:38-39).

Truly, the good news of Good Friday is that the God of light is also God in the darkness. God is in the darkness of His people’s pain and suffering. No, God does not stand between us and pain, holding it off, bringing us only good news, but God does stand, sit, even hangs with us on our cross of painful, frightening darkness. Yes, this comforting, encouraging truth is most often seen in the rear-view mirror of living.

For those of us who choose not to make a quick leap from the wondrous revealing light of Palm Sunday to the glorious resurrection light of Easter, the discovery that God is very much present in the awful suffering darkness of Holy Week is most encouraging.

Yes, when we feel most alone, God is with us in the darkness. As the psalmist declares in Psalm 139 – “Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? …if I make my bed in depths, you are there. …even the darkness will not be dark to you;” Amen!

“Healing Rays of Righteousness” – April 8, 2020
http://www.geigler13.wordpress.com
Ray M. Geigley

You Are Free to Go

The story is told that when Abraham Lincoln was a lawyer in Springfield, Illinois, he took a trip down the Mississippi River to visit New Orleans. While there, he went to see a slave market and watched as people of color were brought out on the slave block and auctioned off to the highest bidder. They brought a young woman out, with clothing awry, hair disheveled, and eyes flashing anger as men examined her to decide on their level of bidding.

Lincoln suddenly found himself so incensed that he began to bid and kept bidding until he bought her. He walked down the aisle to the platform, took the rope that bound her wrists, and led her to the edge of the crowd. There he stopped and untied the rope. The young woman rubbed her wrists to relieve the pain and promote the circulation.
Lincoln looked at her and said, “You are free to go.” She looked up at him in amazement: “What’s that, Massa?” Lincoln again said, “You are free to go.” With tears running down her cheeks, she fell to her knees and declared, “Then, Massa, I want to go with you.”

This is the Wednesday before “Holy Week” – during which we remember and retell the story of Jesus’ entering Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover with his disciples. But anger and confusion soon lifted its sword and he is arrested, scorned, beaten, mocked, and crucified as a criminal. And from the cross he looked down in love upon us humans and prayed, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.” (Luke 23:34).

Forgiveness is always costly. For God to forgive our sin debt and set us free from slavery to sin it cost the life of his only Son, Jesus. To be forgiven is to be set free from Satan’s grip on us. To be forgiven invites us to gratefully journey with the One who dearly paid our debt of sin. How grateful are we to Jesus and his bloody sacrifice in our behalf?

There is another story about gratitude that Jesus said will never be forgotten. It’s the story of Mary pouring costly perfume over the feet of Jesus and wiping them with her hair. (John 12:1-8). The perfume was very expensive, 300 denarii, the yearly income for a laborer in Palestine. Why did Mary take the most precious thing she possessed and pour it all on Jesus?

Mary’s act of pouring out expensive perfume on Jesus’ feet was a tremendous outpouring of her wholehearted love, gratitude, and devotion to the one person who meant so much to her. The sacrifice of costly perfume was her most adequate expression of her love for Jesus.

Mary had experienced a great salvation, and I can imagine hearing her singing as the fragrant perfume drifts through the house, past the voices of criticism and condemnation, and out to the crowded streets of onlookers, “Were the whole realm of nature mine, that were a present far too small; love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all.”

William Barclay writes that “Love is not love if it nicely calculates the cost. It gives its all and its only regret is that it has not more to give.”

We claim that gratitude is the hallmark of Christianity. If that is true, then why is the sin of ingratitude so prevalent today. Far too many who call themselves Christian are like the little boy who was given an orange by a generous man. The boy’s mother said to the boy, “What do you say to the nice man?” The boy thought for a moment and handed the orange back to the man and said, “Peel it.”

The person who thinks life has cheated them and owes them something, who is always complaining about life and criticizing others, will never enjoy the abundant life Jesus promises or be a blessing to others. Only those who, like Mary, feel they can never repay God for his amazing grace and loving-kindness, will overflow with love, gratitude and generosity toward God and others.

Jesus says of Mary, “I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven – as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.” (Luke 7:47). How much forgiveness have you and I needed? How much have we shown God that we love him? God eagerly invites our lavish response of gratitude as we remember Jesus’ suffering and death in freeing us from slavery.

“Healing Rays of Righteousness” – April 1, 2020
http://www.geigler13.wordpress.com
Ray M. Geigley