An Unusual Kindness

 

Once safely on shore, we found out that the island was called Malta. The islanders showed us unusual kindness. They built a fire and welcomed us because it was raining and cold.

—Acts 28:1-2

We just don’t forget an unusual kindness that someone may have done for us. Likewise, the missionary Paul, on his way to prison in Rome, spent three months of his journey on the island of Malta because the ship that took him shipwrecked there. The Apostle Paul either journaled about, or merely remembered, the extraordinary and unusal kindness with which the strangers on that island had greeted this dirty, water-logged group of men. It was truly an unusual kindness!

When Corrie ten Boom recalled the days after her release from the Ravensbrück Concentration Camp at the end of World War II, she specifically remembered the nurse who led her down gleaming corridors into a room with a steaming bathtub. She stated that nothing ever felt as good as that bath. She also commented on the bed with sheets and how she could not get enough of running her hands over them, as they soothed her swollen feet. It was truly an unusual kindness! ¹

A missionary, Gracia Burnham, had much the same reaction after spending a year running, hiding, sleeping on the ground, and watching her husband die in the wet jungles of the Philippines. In her vivid remembrance, she too recalled the spotless sheets and the comfortable mattress. She compared them to the terrifying nights she had spent in the open. It was truly an unusual kindness! ²

When we imagine the unusual kindess of strangers that prompts them to take specific action, especially for the benefit of those who have lived through horrific circumstances, we realize that the “Gift of Kindness” comes about as a remnant of the image of God in human form. Jesus—God incarnate—also shows us an unusual kindness. His kindness is always beyond our need. His kindness is always beyond our deserving. His kindness always prompts us to make changes in our lives.

In Romans 2:4, the Apostle Paul asks:

Do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, forbearance and patience, not realizing that God’s kindness is intended to lead you to repentance?

Imagine the Apostle Paul, or Corrie ten Boom, or Gracia Burnham turning down the unusal kindness that was shown to them! God’s purposes through His unusual kindness lead us to repentance for our “old rags.” His unusual kindness offers us fresh, new garments in which He invites us to live.

The Prophet Isaiah, writing in Isaiah 61:3, expresses God’s unusual kindness this way:

… to grant to those who mourn in Zion—to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit; that they may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified.

Yes! It is so very true that, in God’s loving and unusual kindness, God has a “garment of praise” for us in exchange for the “garment of a faint spirit”—that is, a spirit of despair. This is truly an unusual kindness!

First of all then, let us praise God for His unusual kindnesses to us, in and through the Lord Jesus Christ. These gifts of unusual kindnesses that God gives to us should be remembered and shared, especially when we speak about our stories with others.

Secondly, we need to recall the unusual kindnesses that others have shown us—the unusual kindnesses that have led to producing good outcomes in our lives.

Thirdly, as carriers of God’s image, let us show the same kind of transforming unusual kindnesses to others around us. Let us continually ask ourselves: “This day, to whom is God asking us to bless with unusual kindness?”

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1 Ten Boom, Corrie with John and Elizabeth Sherrill. The Hiding Place. Old Tappan NJ: Revell Company, 1971. p. 228.

2 Burnham, Gracia with Dean Merrill. In the Presence of My Enemies. Carol Stream, IL: Tyndale Book Publishers, Inc., 2010. Amazon Kindle location: 4309.

 

 

Cleaned and Restored

 

And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.

—1 Peter 5:10

Have you ever salvaged something from an old barn, or found a treasure at an antique mall or flea market? Or, maybe your grandmother gave you an old tea pitcher or a clock that just has never seemed useful to you. But, when someone with an eye for such things sees this object, that one can clean and restore it and bring it to life from what you may have thought was worthless.

Many of us enjoy picking out objects that we believe can have a new life. I wonder if we realize that’s exactly what God has done with us. From before the foundation of the earth, He saw something in us that He could clean and restore. So, in due season, He sent His Holy Spirit to salvage us—to clean and restore us—and make us over into a new person.

The word “salvation” actually comes from the same root word as the word “salvage.” The Apostle Paul put it this way in 2 Corinthians 5:17:

“Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.”

Yet, some of us, who have become new creations in Christ, have also become battered along the way by the trials of this world and by the persistence of sin in our own lives. Like a piece of new furniture that has become water spotted and broken down through years of neglect and wrongful purposes, we have become broken down because of our own neglect and wrong doing. The good news is that just as a talented craftsman can restore that old, battered piece of furniture, so God can restore us, as one of His own dearly loved children, who have suffered neglect and misdirection in our lives.

How does this process of becoming cleaned and restored by God proceed?

It begins when we see ourselves as God sees us. We must recognize the potential we have and the new function He wishes to employ in us. We must trust Him that when He puts the harsh paint remover to us, or the lye to clean us up, He is preparing us for new and wonderful service ahead. Once we see the new beauty He brings forth in us, we will only want to praise and delight Him through a new obedience to His ways.

If we desire the cleaning and restorative touch of God in our lives today, let me suggest that we use the following words to instruct our prayers for cleaning and restoration.

Begin with Psalm 23:3:

“He restores my soul.”

Next, from Psalm 52:12:

“Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.”

Then, from Psalm 126:4:

“Restore our fortunes, O Lord, like streams in the Negev.”

Finally, these words of God from Joel 2:25 NKJV:

“I will restore to you the years that the swarming locust has eaten.”

Once, we see the lost splendor of our lives given new life and purpose, we will rejoice with the nineteenth century hymn‑writer, Henry Lyte:

Praise my soul, the King of heaven,
to His feet your tribute bring;
Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven,
Who, like me, His praise should sing?
Praise Him, Praise Him, Praise Him,
Praise Him, Praise the Everlasting King.

 

 

Early in the Morning

 

If I give you the first line of some familiar stories, let’s see how many you can name:

1. “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”
   
   
2. “Call me Ishmael.”

How about a more modern one?

3. “I went to sleep with gum in my mouth and now there’s gum in my hair.”

One more:

Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the entrance. So she came running to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one Jesus loved, and said, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we don’t know where they have put him!”

—John 20:1-2

This last one, two verses of Scripture, especially struck me one Easter as I staggered into the shower at 5:30 a.m. It was another Easter and it was still dark. As I showered, I thought of all those Easter mornings: dressing in new finery, eating a hearty breakfast, or at least having a brisk cup of coffee, and then heading out to an Easter Sunrise Service for a celebration. But, this wasn’t what Mary Magdalene and the other Mary experienced.

Maybe you can recall some “early morning” events that resembled more the mood of these women. The task before them sprung from deep sorrow and a need to do something deliberate, though unpleasant.

They probably threw on their clothes and skipped their usual breakfast patterns that morning—much like we do on mornings when we have to rush out with the garbage bins before the truck comes, or when we have to sleepily drive to the airport for an early flight, or when we hurry to get to the hospital for an unpleasant procedure.

The women came to the Tomb out of deep love and duty, with spirits depressed and terribly disappointed. They came to the site of Jesus’ burial devastated by loss. They may not have slept, or done so fitfully. What they found, they certainly hadn’t expected.

I’ll let Max Lucado tell his version of the rest of the story from John 20:1-18. ¹

It isn’t hope that leads the women up the mountain to the tomb. It is duty. Naked devotion. They expect nothing in return …

Mary and Mary knew a task had to be done—Jesus’ body had to be prepared for burial. Peter didn’t offer to do it. Andrew didn’t volunteer. The forgiven adulteress or healed lepers are nowhere to be seen. So the two Marys decide to do it.

I wonder if halfway to the tomb they had sat down and reconsidered. What if they’d looked at each other and shrugged, “What’s the use?” What if they had given up? What if one had thrown up her arms in frustration and bemoaned, “I’m tired of being the only one who cares. Let Andrew do something for a change. Let Nathaniel show some leadership.”

Whether or not they were tempted to, I’m glad they didn’t quit. That would have been tragic. You see, we know something they didn’t. We know the Father was watching. Mary and Mary thought they were alone. They weren’t. They thought their journey was unnoticed. They were wrong. God knew. He was watching them walk up the mountain. He was measuring their steps. He was smiling at their hearts and thrilled at their devotion. And he had a surprise waiting for them …

Why did the angel move the stone? For whom did he roll away the rock? … The stone was moved—not for Jesus—but for the women; not so Jesus could come out, but so the women could see in!

“Go quickly and tell his followers, Jesus has risen from the dead. He is going into Galilee ahead of you, and you will see him there.”

Mary and Mary don’t have to be told twice. They turn and start running to Jerusalem. The darkness is gone. The sun is up. The Son is out. But the Son isn’t finished.

One surprise still awaits them. Suddenly, Jesus met them and said, “Greetings.” The women came up to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, “Don’t be afraid. God and tell my followers to go on to Galilee, and they will see me there.”

The God of surprises strikes again. It’s as if he said, “I can’t wait any longer. They came this far to see me; I’m going to drop in on them.”

God does that for the faithful. Just when the womb gets too old for babies, Sarai gets pregnant. Just when the failure is too great for grace, David is pardoned. And just when the road is too dark for Mary and Mary, the angel glows and the Savior shows and the two women will never be the same.

The lesson? Three words. “Don’t give up.”

Is the trial dark? Don’t sit.
Is the road long? Don’t stop.
Is the night black? Don’t quit.
God is watching.

For all you know right at this moment he may be telling the angel to move the stone.

The check may be in the mail.
The apology may be in the making.
The job contract may be on the desk.

Don’t quit. For if you do, you may miss the answer to your prayers.

God still sends angels. “And God still moves stones.”

 

Oh, yes. The answers to the first three questions at the beginning of this blog post:

1. A Tale of Two Cities—Charles Dickens
   
   
2. Moby Dick—Herman Melville
   
   
3. Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day—Judith Viorst
   
   

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1 from Lucado, Max. He Still Moves Stones. Nashville, TN: Thomas Nelson. ©1993, 1999.

 

 

What Can You Do?

 

“‘Leave her alone.’ said Jesus. ‘Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing for me …  She did what she could. She poured perfume for my burial.’”

—Mark 14:6, 8

Jesus reprimanded those who complained about this woman’s gesture and told them that what she had done in anointing His body for burial would be remembered wherever the Gospel is preached. “She did what she could.”

In John 19:23-24, we find these words:

“When the soldiers crucified Jesus, they took his clothes, dividing them into four shares, one for each of them, with the undergarment remaining. This garment was seamless, woven in one piece from top to bottom.”

We don’t know the source of that seamless garment, but it must have been the finest of all of Jesus’ possessions. Jewish tradition called for a mother to make a robe like this for a son when he left home. Did Jesus’ mother, Mary, make it for Him? Indeed, if she did, “She did what she could.”

In Luke 23:50-53, the Scripture records:

“Now there was a man named Joseph, a member of the Council, a good and upright man, who had not consented to their decision and action. He came from the Judean town of Arimathea and he was waiting for the kingdom of God. Going to Pilate, he asked for Jesus’ body. Then he took it down, wrapped it in linen cloth and placed it in a tomb cut in the rock, one in which no one had yet been laid.”

This man had come at the risk of his own life and at the risk of losing his credibility with the Jewish leaders. With determination and without fear, “He did what he could.”

In the events of this momentous Holy Week, we also read in Mark 16:1-2:

“When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices so that they might go to anoint Jesus’ body. Very early on the first day of the week, just after sunrise, they were on their way to the tomb.”

After reading this passage of Scripture, we could certainly say of these women that out of their deep love for Christ, “They did what they could.”

Just as Jesus gave Mary from Bethany the honor of being remembered wherever the Gospel is preached, so Joseph of Arimathea and the women at the tomb are honored by the recounting of their stories. At the time, they probably thought each gift they gave was an insignificant part of the overall account of the events of those days. But, we can be certain that God saw and rewarded each one of them.

Out of our love for Christ and in response to His sacrifice for us, what gift of time, talent, and treasure will we give? Will it be said of us: “She did what she could”?