Isaiah's exhortation to the watchmen on Israel's walls resonates deeply with today's American culture of working tirelessly to achieve success for oneself. Even the Christian seeking to glorify God rather than himself tends to live by the words "take no rest" from Isaiah 62:6. But we often take this verse out of context. At least, I know I do. If we would only continue reading in verse 7, we would see that Isaiah says to "give [the Lord] no rest until He establishes Jerusalem and makes it a praise in the earth." Alone, verse 6 seems to be a contradiction to the commandment that we are to take Sabbath rest regularly. But God doesn't tell us to work endlessly. In fact, what He does tell us to do without ceasing is pray, give thanks, and be joyful (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18).
I often find myself disgruntled because of the work that, in my mind, has been left to me, although it is usually work that can wait and that can easily be delegated at a more appropriate time. I end up doing unnecessary work, which steals away my time for rest or more meaningful work. I convince myself time and time again that the work that is left to me must be done, and things will fall apart if I fail to do my part—and "my part" is ever growing as I take on these self-imposed responsibilities.
Then one day, God gave me a wake-up call: "You are not God."
The world will not fall apart without me. I am not the one holding the universe in his nail-pierced hands. Two years ago, the Lord urged me to learn to "embrace the fade," a lesson to which He is recalling my attention in more ways than one, but that's a topic for another time. The Lord is the one who works in me with all His energy, and He has no need of rest. But I do. I just finished reading a book by Louie Giglio entitled I am not, but I know I AM, the entire premise of which is that we are not God—if God's name is I AM, then my name is "I AM not." He is God, I am "not God."
What a comfort to know that I am not God and don't have to try to be! In my failures, life goes on. God is capable in my weakness and in my absence. Knowing this, He has decreed for me a regular time of rest called the Sabbath. But Sabbath rest does not have to be relegated to a single day each week. There is Sabbath rest to be had whenever my work ends and God's work carries on. The Lord supplies my energy, yet even He demands that I break from my work in order to rest in His. Good works have their proper time, as does holy rest. To continue working in a time intended for rest is to say, "God, I know You have work to do, and I'm sorry to hold You up, but I'm not done with my work yet. Let me finish up so that You can do what You need to." As if my incomplete work could impede God's work in the slightest! I need to remember who I am, and also who I AM not.
With this in mind, Isaiah 62 deserves to be revisited. The key phrase is not, "take no rest," but rather, "give Him no rest." We are only participants in God's work, which goes on even without us. Rest is essential for life, and Sabbath rest is essential for eternal life, and God will not contradict His commands. The way we are to "take no rest" is in our continual prayer. While we work, we lift up our prayers through our work by striving toward what we ask, aligning our hearts and our actions with God's will. Our "work" in Sabbath rest is to affirm the Lord's work through prayer and to trust that His grace is sufficient to accomplish all things in my absence.
I am still tempted to deny myself rest and to continue to work out of a sense of sovereign need, but I pray that He will teach me to take rest in His work and to devote myself to prayer as my tireless work (Colossians 4:2).
"On your walls, O Jerusalem, I have set watchmen; all the day and all the night they shall never be silent. You who put the Lord in remembrance, take no rest, and give Him no rest until He establishes Jerusalem and makes it a praise in the earth." ~ Isaiah 62:6-7
Thursday, August 27, 2015
Sunday, August 2, 2015
Names
About a year ago, while reflecting on my summer at Camp Highland, my devotions led me to John 13, when Jesus washed the feet of His disciples. When He came to Peter, the headstrong disciple refused to be served by his Master, insisting that he should be serving his Lord instead. Once Jesus explained the purpose of His service to His disciples, Peter immediately repented and asked that Jesus clean him completely, not only his feet. As I thought on this, God directed me to realize that I am often like Peter in the way I seek to serve and not be served.
Moses was similarly disillusioned. Though referred to as the most humble man on the face of the earth (Numbers 12:3), Moses showed arrogance just as Peter did and just as I do so often. When he witnessed one of his Hebrew brethren being beaten by an Egyptian, Moses killed the Egyptian to protect his fellow Israelite (Exodus 2:11-12). Moses judged the Egyptian for his sin, and in an attempt to take the place of God, he dealt out what he imagined was justice. Again, when he struck the rock in anger to bring forth water in the desert, Moses strayed from the command of the Lord and spoke as if he himself were producing the water for the Israelites (Number 20:10-12). Twice, the most humble man on earth tried to issue judgment in place of God.
To this man, God chose to show Himself and reveal His Name. In order to remind Moses that there is only one true God, and it is not him, the Lord called Moses to an impossible task and walked with him to bring success. The Lord also shared His name with Moses: I AM THAT I AM. Louie Giglio writes that this revelation of who God is is also a reminder of who we are, or rather, of who we are not. If God's name is "I AM," then our name must be "I am not" (I am not, but I know I AM, Giglio). This was meant to free Moses from the burden of being the savior of his people. No man should have to bear that burden. Only Jesus Christ, the Son of God, was able to carry His identity as God and His purpose as the Savior of humanity with complete humility.
Now, Jesus came to serve, not to be served. That purpose was meant for Jesus alone. Just as God's name "I AM" points out that our name is "I am not," my name, Michael, means "who is like God," which reminds me that there is no one like God who is without need. Though I try to serve everyone in every way as often as I can, it is not my place to refuse service from others. By doing so, I claim to be all-sufficient, just as Moses claimed God's judgment seat. I've found that I've been repeatedly putting myself in the place of God, whether by refusing to receive service or by ignoring advice because I believe I already possess the necessary wisdom, which Romans 12:16 so clearly warns against.
Names often create a platform from which to praise God. Michael is a reminder that the Lord is incomparably great. Hanani is a reminder of God's grace toward us. But similarly, names also serve to convict us when we forget our identities in relation to the Lord. When I believe I am self-sufficient, Hanani reminds me that all I have is because of God's grace, by which He has given me all I need. When I believe I am like God, Michael reminds me that "I am not," and that none can compare to Him. Anything in me that reflects God is only because Christ dwells in me.
To combat my pride, like Moses, I need to remember that the Lord is I AM, and my name is "I am not." Knowing that "I don't have what they need" sets me free to serve joyfully, and knowing that I don't have what I need allows me to humbly receive service rather than refuse it.
Moses was similarly disillusioned. Though referred to as the most humble man on the face of the earth (Numbers 12:3), Moses showed arrogance just as Peter did and just as I do so often. When he witnessed one of his Hebrew brethren being beaten by an Egyptian, Moses killed the Egyptian to protect his fellow Israelite (Exodus 2:11-12). Moses judged the Egyptian for his sin, and in an attempt to take the place of God, he dealt out what he imagined was justice. Again, when he struck the rock in anger to bring forth water in the desert, Moses strayed from the command of the Lord and spoke as if he himself were producing the water for the Israelites (Number 20:10-12). Twice, the most humble man on earth tried to issue judgment in place of God.
To this man, God chose to show Himself and reveal His Name. In order to remind Moses that there is only one true God, and it is not him, the Lord called Moses to an impossible task and walked with him to bring success. The Lord also shared His name with Moses: I AM THAT I AM. Louie Giglio writes that this revelation of who God is is also a reminder of who we are, or rather, of who we are not. If God's name is "I AM," then our name must be "I am not" (I am not, but I know I AM, Giglio). This was meant to free Moses from the burden of being the savior of his people. No man should have to bear that burden. Only Jesus Christ, the Son of God, was able to carry His identity as God and His purpose as the Savior of humanity with complete humility.
Now, Jesus came to serve, not to be served. That purpose was meant for Jesus alone. Just as God's name "I AM" points out that our name is "I am not," my name, Michael, means "who is like God," which reminds me that there is no one like God who is without need. Though I try to serve everyone in every way as often as I can, it is not my place to refuse service from others. By doing so, I claim to be all-sufficient, just as Moses claimed God's judgment seat. I've found that I've been repeatedly putting myself in the place of God, whether by refusing to receive service or by ignoring advice because I believe I already possess the necessary wisdom, which Romans 12:16 so clearly warns against.
Names often create a platform from which to praise God. Michael is a reminder that the Lord is incomparably great. Hanani is a reminder of God's grace toward us. But similarly, names also serve to convict us when we forget our identities in relation to the Lord. When I believe I am self-sufficient, Hanani reminds me that all I have is because of God's grace, by which He has given me all I need. When I believe I am like God, Michael reminds me that "I am not," and that none can compare to Him. Anything in me that reflects God is only because Christ dwells in me.
To combat my pride, like Moses, I need to remember that the Lord is I AM, and my name is "I am not." Knowing that "I don't have what they need" sets me free to serve joyfully, and knowing that I don't have what I need allows me to humbly receive service rather than refuse it.
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