It is No Dumb Providence

Samuel Rutherford and his friends endured many trials. When I read about shipwrecks and deaths of children, of the plague raging through the countryside and the king determining by fiat the liturgy of the church, I feel like a wimp. But each of us must bear his own load no matter what century we live in. We may have different trials now but there’s always a temptation to question God’s providence. We all struggle to believe he is in control. When we go through these times we reach for what is true, for words that will comfort. When I was a new believer I learned this, “When you cannot trace his hand, trust his heart.” Rutherford may not have known those words, but he understood the truth. When we can’t understand we need to remember who he is. He is omniscient and perfectly wise. His will is always good and his providence is always trustworthy even though at times one side of it looks black. But as Rutherford often mentions in his letters, God’s providence has another side, a better side that we may not be able to comprehend now, but one day we will be able to see. In the meantime we live by faith. Here is an example of Rutherford’s advice to a friend who had endured some severe trials:

I would not have you to think it strange that your journey to New England hath gotten such a dash. It indeed hath made my heart heavy; yet I know it is no dumb providence, but a speaking one, whereby our Lord speaketh His mind to you, though for the present ye do not well understand what He saith. However it be, He who sitteth upon the floods hath shown you His marvellous kindness in the great depths.

However it be with you today, know that your King is on his throne, ruling and reigning over all with perfect wisdom and goodness.

The Value of the Old Testament

Some years ago I was driving into the city of Augusta, Georgia, to see my mother. She was having a medical procedure at the hospital so I made the short trip from Atlanta to see her. I had never driven the streets of Augusta so I just followed the voice of Google Maps. Exiting the highway on Washington Road, I started noticing a fenced off area to the right. “What could this place be?” I wondered. The fences continued for more than a mile. It seemed exclusive and significant especially compared with the strip malls, vacant lots, and pawn shops on the left side of the road. Gates were locked and the fences were lined with green so you couldn’t see. But one entrance was open as I drove by and one glance revealed the truth of what I was driving past. Augusta National Golf Club. I remember gasping in recognition.

What’s the big deal? It’s only a big deal if you understand the history of the game. I don’t play golf. The one time I tried was a disaster. But my parents have played for years and I used to be a rabid sports fan. If there was a ball and a score, I would watch it. So I had watched many hours of golf in my lifetime. It gave me an easy entre into conversation with my dad and besides, Tiger Woods was popular with everyone, until his personal troubles happened. I had also put my name in the ticket lottery for many years hoping to get a look at the extraordinarily beautiful course. (I have never succeeded by the way.) The history and significance of all of it and all the hours I had spent watching those Sunday final rounds had created a mystique for me that resulted in surprise and awe when I finally realized I was driving right by the place. Without the knowledge of its history or my personal investment in the tournament year after year, I would have driven by with only mild curiosity.

What does this have to do with the value of the Old Testament? To many Christians the Old Testament is a murky place, a confusing set of archaic books that contain some inspiring stories, but also raise a lot of unanswered questions. So they hardly read it, thinking that only the New Testament applies to their lives. One of my classmates last semester, in a class on the Old Testament prophets, sheepishly but honestly admitted that he pretty much only read the New Testament. And this was his first seminary class! That’s like walking into Augusta National Golf Club without knowing who Bobby Jones is. It’s just not advisable! Bobby Jones designed Augusta National, co-founded the Master’s Tournament, and was one of the best to ever play the game. You can’t understand the significance of the game of golf without knowing the history of one of its most iconic places and players. That’s true in any sport. Just as the history of golf didn’t start with Tiger Woods, the history of the NFL didn’t start with Tom Brady.

In a similar yet much more profound sense, this history of Christianity didn’t begin with the gospel of Matthew and the Incarnation. You cannot understand the significance of Jesus Christ and his mission without the history of the Old Testament. It’s all one story. I’ve been thinking more about this lately while working on teaching parts of Exodus and the book of Leviticus. Leviticus is the proverbial graveyard of Bible reading plans. Many good intentions have come to a grinding halt in this book. But if we ignore it and the rest of the Old Testament, the gospel loses much of its power and worth.

In Matthew 5 Jesus says he is the fulfillment of the Law. How can we understand what he is fulfilling if we ignore the giving of that Law in Exodus? In John 1 we read of the Word being made flesh and dwelling among us. How can we understand what it means for God in the flesh to dwell on earth without an understanding of the tabernacle? During Jesus’ ministry on earth, he touched lepers and dead people and a woman with an issue of blood. These episodes lose their provocative intensity if we don’t dig into Leviticus and understand the concepts of being clean and unclean. Jesus touched lepers and did not become unclean!? That should stop us in our tracks. When John the Baptist sees Jesus he declares, “Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.” Only someone who has spent time in the Old Testament with its instructions about the sacrificial system and the Day of Atonement can appreciate the magnitude of this title.

And that’s barely scratching the surface. The book of Hebrews is an extended argument about how Jesus Christ is the fulfillment of all the types and shadows introduced in the Old Testament. He is better than the angels, better than Moses, our great high priest who has offered himself as the final and complete sacrifice in order to fulfill the New Covenant and save to the uttermost those who have faith in him. The rest of the New Testament is replete with references, quotations and allusions to the Old Testament. This only makes sense if the Bible really is one book telling the one true story of the world and God’s plans to redeem it in Christ. If you have not spent much time in the Old Testament, only driving by from time to time with mild curiosity and many unanswered questions, I encourage you to try again. Go slow. Ask someone else to join you on this journey. Don’t give up when you have questions. There are good resources out there. Ask the Lord to give you understanding and open your eyes to how everything in the Old Testament is pointing to Jesus. As you do this, I pray that you will have many moments of surprise and awe as you see how everything connects to him.

How God Sees Prayer

God doesn’t need us to accomplish his will. He is perfectly capable of executing his divine decrees without us. So why pray? Have you ever really thought about that? I’ve heard others say that in light of who God is, with all his power and wisdom, prayer seems pretty clumsy and inefficient. After all, if God owns the cattle on a thousand hills (Psalm 50:10) and is incomparably wise and inimitably strong (Isaiah 40:28-31), why does he delight to hear my prayers concerning my recently widowed aunt? Why would he graciously come alongside me to translate my groans over my mother’s failing health or my friend’s troubled marriage? God knows what is best. He could give us and those we love everything we need without us asking for it and he could accomplish all his will without our ever being involved.

Of course, prayer is more than making requests. It’s also about fellowship with God. In Psalm 62 we are exhorted, “Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us.” In this pouring out of our hearts we express our deepest longings and receive the comfort only God can give. In prayer we also learn how to confess our sins and delight in his forgiveness. Between the Fall and the Consummation, Spirit empowered and Spirit directed prayer enables us to enjoy communion with the Lord until we see him face to face.

But consider again the intercessory aspect of prayer. If we’re honest, we don’t have the wisdom or foresight to know how to pray. And many times we’re not privy to how God is responding to and answering our prayers. His ways are wonderful and inscrutable. But in Revelation we get a peek into how God sees prayer and responds to it. In Revelation 5 and 8 we read these descriptions of prayer:

And when he had taken the scroll, the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb, each holding a harp, and golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints.

Revelation 5:8

And another angel came and stood at the altar with a golden censer, and he was given much incense to offer with the prayers of all the saints on the golden altar before the throne, and the smoke of the incense, with the prayers of the saints, rose before God from the hand of the angel.

Revelation 8:3-4

While the content of these prayers is not clear, they at least refer to the cry of the martyrs in Revelation 6:10 where they lament, “O Sovereign Lord, holy and true, how long before you will judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell on the earth?” If Revelation is written to give us a heavenly perspective on earthly events, what do we learn about our prayers from these passages?

Our prayers are heard and remembered.

Our prayers are precious.

Our prayers are part of God’s unfolding plan in redemptive history.

Some of us are good at making prayer lists and recording answers. I am not one of those people. Oftentimes, I forget to pray for people and am overwhelmed by all the needs around me. But God does not forget and he is never overwhelmed. He hears every prayer and records every lament. The image given to us includes a golden bowl, incense, an altar, and heavenly beings offering up our prayers before the throne of God. Psalm 56:8 gives us a complementary image that further emphasizes the truth that our prayers matter. They are not lost in the spiritual ether somewhere. God keeps track of them. “You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book?”

Our prayers are also likened to incense contained in golden bowls. In Exodus 30:1-10 God instructs Moses on building the golden altar of incense. This was placed in front of the veil, in front of the mercy seat. Aaron was to burn incense on it continually. The incense would rise before the mercy seat, which represented the throne of God in the tabernacle, symbolizing the prayers of the priests and the people rising to heaven. I am very particular about smells. I am not a fan of scented candles or perfumy deodorizing sprays. But for God, our prayers are likened to a sweet aroma rising before him. Our prayers are precious to him. Psalm 141:2 contains the same image: “Let my prayer be counted as incense before you, and the lifting up of my hands as the evening sacrifice.”

If you read the context of Revelation 8 you learn that the prayers of the saints are used by God in fulfilling his plans on earth. And part of that plan is judgment. The prayers of the saints rise before God from the hand of the angel and immediately afterward the angel takes a censer, fills it with fire from the altar, and throws it upon the earth resulting in loud thunder, lightning and an earthquake. After this we’re told of the seven trumpet judgments. Connecting our prayers to God’s judgment is a little unsettling and raises some prickly questions, the same questions we have when we read the imprecatory sections of the Psalms. Is it right to pray this way? What about Jesus’ admonition to love our enemies? But God’s judgment is real and it is righteous. And there is real evil in the world and in the deep recesses of the human heart. What if the cries for justice in the Psalms that sometimes confuse and embarrass us are related in some way to the martyrs’ cries in Revelation 6 and the unfolding of God’s will in Revelation 8? What if there was a way to pray for God’s justice to be realized while at the same time maintaining a burden for the lost who are in danger of experiencing it?

I don’t have full answers to those questions, but what I am seeing in these passages is that God desires us to pray and even uses our prayers to fulfill his purposes. Stop and think about that for more than a minute! The God who needs nothing and is able to do all his holy will invites us to participate in his work. What a sobering privilege. What a challenging responsibility. It makes me think about two people from Luke’s gospel. Simeon and Anna. You can read about them in Luke 2:22-38. They show up at the beginning of Jesus’ life and we never hear about them again. But I believe their years of prayer and fasting, their faithful seeking for the first advent of Christ can teach us a lot about what our devotional posture should be as we wait for the second advent of Christ. Luke says Simeon was righteous and devout, waiting for the consolation of Israel. And after Anna saw the baby Jesus presented in the temple, Luke says she went out speaking to all who were waiting for the redemption of Jerusalem.

Simeon and Anna spent years prayerfully devoted to the Lord, straining their eyes of faith to look for the Christ who is the consolation of Israel and the redemption of Jerusalem. God heard them, counted their prayers as incense before him, and I believe he used their prayers to hasten the coming of the Messiah. What if we followed their example, prayerfully devoting ourselves to the Lord, eagerly waiting for our Lord’s return? He hears us. Our prayers are precious to him. And who knows how he could use them to hasten the Day when the Lord Jesus will come again?

Rutherford on Suffering

When things got chaotic in our life, my husband would say, “I can’t wait for things to get back to normal.” Things have been pretty chaotic and frankly very hard for us in 2025 and I think we’re both beginning to see that what we defined as ‘normal’ is actually an outlier. Life is hard and we’re not meant to bed down and take it easy until Jesus comes. Actually it’s just the opposite. If we follow Christ we’re told we will encounter hardship and pain. Those things are normal in a world racked by sin. But the followers of Christ are also told that everything they go through, the good and the bad, is filtered through the loving and sovereign hands of our Father so that all things work together for good and in all the trials and hardship, we are more than conquerors. (Romans 8:28-39) We make a mistake when we see afflictions and trials as an anomaly, or a grin and bear it period of time until things get back to normal. Through the kind providence of our Father, our afflictions and trials are actually working for us. Samuel Rutherford saw his own afflictions this way.

The dross of my cross gathered a scum of fears in the fire – doubtings, impatience, unbelief, challenging of Providence as sleeping, and as not regarding my sorrow; but my goldsmith, Christ, was pleased to take off the scum, and burn it in the fire. And, blessed be my Refiner, He hath made the metal better, and furnished new supply of grace, to cause me hold out weight; and I hope that He hath not lost one grain-weight by burning His servant.

In 1 Peter 1:3-5, the apostle speaks of our being born again to a living hope and our glorious and undefiled inheritance that is secured for us in heaven. But then he transitions in verses 6-7 to speak about trials and God’s purpose in them. He says, “In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith – more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire – may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.” This process of being tested by fire is what Rutherford is talking about. His cross is his trial. The dross that is burned off from the gold gathers with it all the things that so easily entangle him – the doubt, impatience, and unbelief – and Christ himself burns those things up in his refiner’s fire, making his faith stronger and better.

Trials are normal for the Christian for we follow a crucified Savior. His pattern is our pattern. But thanks be to God that our trials and crosses are not random! He is in control of the fire, the heat and the duration. Notice what Peter says about these trials – “In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary.” God brings us into the fire only if necessary and only for a little while. Yes, the first half of 2025 has been hard for us and it has seemed to stretch on for a long time, but we are not alone and God has a good and glorious purpose in it all. Amen.

Puritan Sundays – Rutherford’s Exhortation

In Hebrews 3:12-13 we read this command: “Take care, brothers, lest there be in any of you an evil, unbelieving heart, leading you to fall away from the living God. But exhort one another every day, as long as it is called ‘today,’ that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin.” Praise God for the assurance of salvation. As Paul says in Romans 8, those whom he has foreknown will be called, justified, and finally glorified. But I’m convinced that part of the way God keeps us is through the exhortation of our fellow brothers and sisters.

Samuel Rutherford’s Letters are full of these kinds of exhortations. He is constantly asking his friends to examine their spiritual condition, eager to know whether they are staying faithful to Christ and enduring in trial. How are we at doing this? Are we afraid to dig under the surface with our friends and really ask them about the state of their souls? Do we even know them well enough to have earned the trust to ask that kind of question? Here is an example of how Rutherford exhorted one of his young parishioners:

Happy is your soul if Christ man the house, and take the keys Himself, and command all, as it suiteth Him full well to rule all wherever He is. Keep Christ, and entertain Him well. Cherish His grace; blow upon your own coal; and let Him tutor you.

That kind of exhortation may be common between a pastor and his congregant, but here is a different exhortation given to someone he calls “a very dear and worthy friend”:

I long to hear of your growing in grace, and of your advancing in your journey to heaven. It will be the joy of my heart to hear that ye hold your face up the brae [slope of a hill], and wade through temptations without fearing what man can do.

He exhorts parishioners and friends, young and old, male and female. This last example is from the beginning of a letter to Lady Busbie, the mother-in-law of one of Rutherford’s close friends:

I am glad to hear that Christ and ye are one, and that ye have made Him your “one thing,” whereas many are painfully toiled in seeking many things, and their many things are nothing. It is only best that ye set yourself apart, as a thing laid up and out of the gate, for Christ alone; for ye are good for no other thing than Christ; and He hath been going about you these many years, by afflictions, to engage you to Himself. It were a pity and a loss to say Him nay.

Reading of the concern Rutherford has for the spiritual growth of his friends, parishioners, and even the mother-in-law of a friend (!) challenges me in my own relationships. Do I pursue others in such a way that they know of my concern for their souls? Am I following the command in Hebrews to exhort my fellow brothers and sisters every day, as long as it is called ‘today’? What about you?

Being the Best Christian

There once was a girl who wanted to be the best. She was pretty good at school and half decent at swimming but one day she took up the clarinet and after a few years realized she was more talented than most. So she practiced. She took private lessons. She received recognition and was rewarded with solos and awards. Being first, being the best, felt good.

Moving to a new state to start high school was tough, but this girl soon found her niche in the band. Her parents found her a new private teacher and drove many miles each week to take her to all her lessons and rehearsals. Then came auditions for honor bands and big city youth orchestras. She continued to succeed in capturing one honor after another, more solos and first chair placements. When she failed to beat out the competition, she felt bad and tried not to get discouraged, but it was impossible for her to keep from comparing herself with others. That mentality had become a default switch. She wanted to be the best.

The clarinet was the center of this young girl’s life and her talent eventually brought her to one of the best music schools in the country. Filled with ambition, she set out, at least subconsciously, to find out that first year in college who all the clarinet players were and where she ranked. She wanted to be the best after all. That was the only way to get the awards and the recognition and to one day get the coveted symphony job she so desired. As she labored daily in the practice room, it felt really good to see her name rise in the ranks after each audition. By the end of that first year she found herself sitting in the top orchestra next to the number one player. She saw nothing wrong with her ambition.

Early in her second year, some things went seriously awry in this girl’s personal life and she found herself lonely and lost. But in the midst of this lostness, the Lord was seeking her. Friends invited her to church and she began to read the Bible. She met Jesus Christ and realized she was not the best after all. She came face to face with who she really was at heart – a sinner in need of redemption. Within a short time after placing her faith in Jesus Christ, she found a kind of fulfillment and joy in her relationship with God that the clarinet couldn’t give her. There were brand new desires planted within her reborn self. Music started to become something different and her relationship with Jesus Christ slowly began to reshape her goals and ambitions. For sure, being the best clarinet player was still a goal, but others around her started to become people to love instead of people to impress or obstacles to climb over in getting to the top.

That girl with the clarinet who wanted to be the best was me of course. I turned 53 this year and have now been following Christ for almost 34 years. The girl who came to faith at 19 seems like a world away and I am filled with thanksgiving for how God has worked in me, as Paul says in Philippians, “to will and to work for his good pleasure.” But that desire to ‘be the best’ followed me into my Christian life and still lurks in the shadows, subtly trying to exert its influence. Being born again doesn’t completely rid us of the ingrained habitual sin that’s shaped us. Some habits of the flesh, some ways of being and thinking and operating in this broken world, cling so closely and are so multi-layered that it takes decades to see progress. And certainly the renewal of the mind that is part of the sanctification process won’t end until we are free of this flesh and stand glorified in the presence of God.

But how has this particular sin pattern followed me into my Christian life and what has that looked like these past 34 years? What God has shown me is that the genuine zeal he gave me in pursuing holiness can be intertwined with legalism and pride, turning my motivation from pleasing the Lord to ‘being the best’. Not the best clarinet player, but the best Christian.

As a new Christian, it looked like trying to have my ‘quiet time’ every day, because all the books on spiritual growth advised that and all the ‘best’ Christians did that. When I succeeded I felt good. When I missed a day or two or maybe a week, I lamented about how bad I felt in my journal. Over the years the Lord has been faithful to teach me that this ‘quiet time’ is really about cultivating communion with Father, Son, and Holy Spirit and that can be done in the morning but also throughout the day as I learn to delight myself in him.

As a young mom, this ‘be the best’ mentality made me think that being at home and having my babies follow a strict schedule was the only way to be a good mom. That’s what Elisabeth Elliot and Growing Kids God’s Way recommended after all. I remember meeting another young mom who carried her baby in a sling and silently judging her, thinking she was really spoiling her baby. As my children grew, the Lord has been faithful to convict me and chip away at my pride, teaching me that parenting is not a competition and my children are not trophies.

As I’ve grown in my faith, I have faced the temptation to look at others and what they are doing, whether serving the needy and vulnerable, or giving to missionaries, and think that I have to do all those things and do them better. I have sometimes approached the Christian life like a Girl Scout, ambitious to fill my sash with all those merit badges. But the Lord has taught me about the goodness of my limitations and the body of Christ who works together, each member needing the other to serve the Lord and love others all for his glory, not mine.

You would think that after almost 34 years of walking with the Lord, this ‘be the best’ mentality would hardly be a problem anymore, a thing of the past that I’ve outgrown. While the Lord has given me more wisdom and discernment to see it, it still entangles me from time to time. When I entered seminary in 2023, it reared its ugly head and manifested as anxiety over grades and a desire to impress my professors. It’s been surprising and humbling to see how important a GPA can be to me after all these years.

As I’ve come up against this latest temptation to ‘be the best’ I’ve thought about the roots of that mentality. Lurking underground is a root of insecurity, a fear of not being enough. We look at ourselves and the things we’re good at, trying to maximize them so we have some proof of our own worth. But all that is an unending construction project doomed to failure from the start because we’re looking at the wrong person. Being the best falls apart when instead of comparing ourselves to others we reflect on the perfections of God and his Law. It is in that mirror that we see our true selves and our devastating lack. We’re not enough! We’ll never be the best! But praise the Lord for the gospel because instead of leaving us to ourselves, God condescended in love and sent his own Son to not only forgive and redeem us but to bring us into union with Christ so we can be remade into his image. The Christian life is not a spiritual self-help program, a way to become a better version of ourselves. This is where our security lies – in him, not ourselves. As Paul explains at the end of 1 Corinthians 1, our salvation did not come about because we were the smartest or the strongest. In his wisdom:

“God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that as it is written, ‘Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.'”

It is out of that security we’re freed from this insatiable need to prove ourselves and compare ourselves with others. We’re also enabled by the Spirit who lives in us to live a life that’s truly pleasing to the Lord, working heartily for him as we love others and point them to the only One who is the best.

Puritan Sundays

As I’ve been reading Samuel Rutherford’s Letters I have been struck with how he uses the language of Revelation to encourage and exhort his friends and parishioners. A lot of us approach Revelation as a puzzle to solve, but it’s actually a picture of the drama we’re all called to participate in as we go through this world. Will we patiently endure as followers of the Lamb or will we be seduced by the temptations of Babylon? In this excerpt of a letter to his friend John Ewart, Rutherford uses the imagery of Revelation to exhort him to steadfast faith until Christ comes.

It were good that we prisoners of hope know of our stronghold to run to, before the storm come on; therefore, Sir, I beseech you by the mercies of God, and comforts of His spirit, by the blood of your Saviour, and by your compearance before the sin-revenging Judge of the world, keep your garments clean, and stand for the truth of Christ, which ye profess. When the time shall come that your eye-strings shall break, your face wax pale, your breath grow cold, and this house of clay shall totter, and your one foot shall be over the march, in eternity, it will be your comfort and joy that ye gave your name to Christ.

Puritan Sundays

A couple years ago I started writing a series of Sunday posts about various Puritan authors. I thought I would bring that back. But instead of dedicating each post to a different author, I’d rather share quotes and reflections from the Puritan authors I’m currently reading.

I shared a post a little while ago that included a quote from Samuel Rutherford. Since last summer, I have been making it a habit to read from his Letters on Sunday mornings before church. Very quickly I realized how quotable he is and found myself agreeing with Charles Spurgeon who held that the Letters were as near to being inspired as anything written by a mere man.

Rutherford was a minister in 17th century Scotland during a very tumultuous time. His letters show a deep love for his flock, a passion for the beauty and worth of Christ and an understanding of suffering that few in the 21st century West can relate to. Here is something I read this morning concerning the love of Christ.

Alas! I can speak nothing of it, but wonder at three things in His love: – First, freedom. O that lumps of sin should get such love for nothing! Secondly, the sweetness of his love. I give over either to speak or write of it; but those who feel it, may better bear witness what it is. But it is so sweet, that, next to Christ Himself, nothing can match it. Nay, I think that a soul could live eternally blessed only on Christ’s love, and feed upon no other thing. Yea, when Christ in love giveth a blow, it doeth a soul good; and it is a kind of comfort and joy to it to get a cuff with the lovely, sweet, and soft hand of Jesus. And, thirdly, what power and strength are in His love! I am persuaded it can climb a steep hill, with hell upon its back; and swim through water and not drown; and sing in the fire, and find no pain; and triumph in losses, prisons, sorrows, exile, disgrace, and laugh and rejoice in death.

Are you as challenged as I am reading through that? If only I knew the love of Christ like this. But I’m afraid my spiritual appetite is too weak and willing to settle for a bite here and there instead of sitting down to the banquet feast that he offers. May we, like Rutherford, learn like the psalmist to feast on the abundance of God’s house, slaking our thirst from the river of his delights (Psalm 36:8).

His Name

My name is often misspelled. The day of my college graduation, I opened my diploma to see Meridith. Disappointing for sure, especially since it had never been misspelled on any other college documents, but when I sent it back for a replacement, it came back with the same mistake! It’s happened so often that I have actually come to expect it at places like Chick-Fil-A and Starbucks where they print your name on the sticky ticket they attach to your bag or coffee. One time I gave the barista a different name altogether, but now I find it funny.

The latest example

In Isaiah 44 God rebukes those who take a block of wood, carve an idol out of it and bow down to it. We would never do that, right? But there are many kinds of idols. Tim Keller defined an idol as “anything that absorbs more of our attention and imagination than God.”

Idolatry is one of the main reasons I have, for the most part, gotten off social media. I used to have a podcast. I enjoyed the process of writing and recording each episode. But when you create content online, there is another thing that comes with it – growing an audience. You make a podcast so that people will listen. But how can people listen if they don’t know about your podcast? You have to spread the word through social media. So I created an Instagram account for the podcast, requiring me to spend even more time creating content that would build an audience. But in the midst of all that I realized I was wading into some dangerous spiritual waters. The promoting of the podcast started getting entangled with the promoting of myself. I found myself constantly checking stats to see how many had listened, commented or liked. Pretty soon the creation of content got wrapped up in the temptations of idolatry.

Is it even possible to create content online and promote it without falling into the idolatry of self where your identity becomes a brand and you’re constantly curating your own reputation, making sure your name is noticed? How does a Christian blog, podcast, YouTube without losing their soul? The idolatry of self has always been a temptation for the essence of sin is to curve inward on yourself. But in our age of the expressive individual when the temptations are embedded in the technology we use every day, how freeing would it be to look away from yourself and focus on the name above all names?

My reputation has often been too important to me, something I have jealously but secretly guarded even without me realizing it. But lately I’ve been realizing how little my name and reputation matters. The truth is that my name will be forgotten in a couple generations but his name endures forever. That future and certain anonymity (at least among men) should not lead me to despair though, for, if I am in Christ, then I have taken on a new identity and bear his name. I am no longer just Meredith, or Meridith or any other way you want to misspell it! I am Meredith-in-Christ, Christ-in-Meredith, a new creation who is not losing her own personality and uniqueness but one who has been grafted into another, buried and raised with Christ.

Identity and names are a theme that runs through Revelation. In the letters to the seven churches, Jesus commends those who bear up under persecution for his name’s sake (2:3). They hold fast his name, not denying the faith (2:13). They may be weak but they keep his word and do not deny his name (3:8). As a reward, those who endure to the end will be given a white stone with a new name written on it (2:17). Jesus knows their names and they will never be blotted out of the book of life because he will confess their name before the Father (3:4-5). Even more precious, the name of God will be written on them: “The one who conquers, I will make him a pillar in the temple of my God. Never shall he go out of it, and I will write on him the name of my God, and the name of the city of my God, the new Jerusalem, which comes down from my God out of heaven, and my own new name.” (3:12)

How silly and shortsighted is it for me to worry about my own name and my own reputation when my whole life is bound up in Christ! Yes, my name will be forgotten by men, but not by the Lord. He knows my name, it is written in his book. And I will bear his name forever in the New Jerusalem.

“They will see his face, and his name will be on their foreheads.” Revelation 22:4

God’s 1000 Keys

I’ve written about the Puritans before and today I’d like to introduce you to Samuel Rutherford. He was a Scottish Presbyterian minister and theologian who lived during the 17th century. For a time he was exiled from his own congregation because of conflict with Church authorities. During his time of exile he wrote an immense amount of personal letters which went on to be published. Charles Spurgeon said these letters were the closest thing to inspiration written by a mere man.

It’s tempting to think we’re smarter than those who lived 400 years ago. But while we can fly around the world, map the human genome, and access more information than we know what to do with, we tend to have a shallower understanding of God and the human soul.

I’ve been reading slowly through Rutherford’s letters and came across this quote below. Take your time reading this.

Providence hath a thousand keys, to open a thousand sundry doors for the deliverance of His own, when it is even come to a conclamatum est [Latin for ‘all is over’]. Let us be faithful, and care for our own part, which is to do and suffer for Him, and lay Christ’s part on Himself, and leave it there. Duties are ours, events are the Lord’s. When our faith goeth to meddle with events, and to hold a court (if I may so speak) upon God’s providence, and beginneth to say, ‘How wilt Thou do this and that?’ we lose ground. We have nothing to do there. It is our part to let the Almighty exercise His own office, and steer His own helm. There is nothing left to us, but to see how we may be approved of Him, and how we may roll the weight of our weak souls in well-doing upon Him who is God Omnipotent: and when that we thus essay miscarrieth, it will be neither our sin nor cross.

If I may try to summarize what he’s saying in modern English – let God be God. So many of our anxieties are caused by trying to take on what is not ours. But God’s providence means he has innumerable ways to accomplish his will, to work all things to our good. Our job is to just do the next right thing in front of us and commit the rest to him.