Bob Rakestraw
http://bobrakestraw.blogspot.com
To begin the fifth year of “The Benediction Project” I’d like to write about the fifteen books that have been most used by God to shape me into the person I am today. Perhaps one or more of these works will be helpful to you at some time or another. These are not necessarily the books that I turn to frequently in my life now. Most of them sit on my bookshelves as quiet knowing friends—powerful reminders of their service to me in years past.
Nor are these the books that I would put on this list if I wanted to impress you. In that case I would designate books that are classics, such as Augustine’s “Confessions,” Calvin’s “Institutes” and Bonhoeffer’s “The Cost of Discipleship.” But the books I include in my list have actually changed or reinforced something major in me, sometimes because they were the first books to introduce me to an important truth or way of thinking. They are thus “life-changing” in this sense, not because they are necessarily the “best books” or are famous works that have greatly influenced large numbers of men and women.
I will cover the first four books in this posting and the others in subsequent postings. In these pieces I will omit works on the Hebrew and Greek languages. While my study of these languages has shaped my life and thought in major ways, I am omitting these biblical language materials because of the non-specialized nature of this blog.
1. “30 Days to a More Powerful Vocabulary,” by Wilfred Funk and Norman Lewis (Pocket Books). When I was a junior or senior in high school I bought this paperback for 25 cents. It introduced me to the romance of words and confirmed my love of the English language, and all languages. Through the daily exercises I learned such terms as parvenu, megalomaniac, and esprit de corps that have stayed with me all my life, and enriched my reading, writing and imagination immensely.
2. “Webster’s New Collegiate Dictionary.” When I began my freshman year of college, this was one of the required textbooks I had to buy. I have learned that a good dictionary is one of the most valuable tools one will ever have. I especially appreciate the attention to pronunciations, derivations and categories and subcategories based on the use of words. A dictionary that includes synonyms and expressions containing the given word are especially helpful. Though I now use dictionaries different from the one named above, it strengthened my life and ministry immeasurably. I still love to read a good dictionary, and I have never (well, almost never) considered it a waste of time to check on the spelling or usage of a word when I am not sure. I used to tell my theology students that theology is all about words (sometimes “just” about prepositions), so understand clearly what you mean by the word, and what the other person means by the word, before you get into a discussion in which the term plays a major role. There might be more light and less heat in the discussion.
3. “The Holy Bible.” The Christian Bible, especially in the language one is most familiar with, is without the slightest doubt in my mind the most important and therefore most valuable book one can ever own. But, as one of my teachers often said, “The Bible is burglar–proof against unsanctified learning.” The Bible will make little or no spiritual sense to those who attempt to understand it without a desire to know the truth (I Corinthians 2:14).
In high school I heard that everyone who wishes to be well-read and successful in life should read the Bible. I started at Genesis 1:1 and found myself bored almost to tears. It was only by sheer determination that I read to the end of Genesis. But, years later, after God had awakened my heart to seek him, I devoured the Bible over and over. I love every book of the Bible, but the book of Acts and the New Testament epistles (Romans to Jude), being totally new to me, were especially a fountain of truth and light about how to know God and live a meaningful life. I suggest the NIV (New International Version) and the NIV Study Bible. Try to get a Bible with cross-references in the margins, possible alternative translations and study materials in the footnotes.
4. “When the Spirit Came,” by James Alexander Stewart (Revival Literature). This little book (87 pp.) was given to me as a new Christian, at the age of nineteen, by the church I started attending after my conversion and in which I was later ordained. The wording on the front cover summarizes the book well: “The Story of Evan Roberts and The Welsh Revival.” Perhaps it should say, “and the Welsh Revival of 1904-1905,” since there was also a great revival in Wales in 1859.
God used this book to create in me a lifelong interest in revival and revivals. I simply cannot express here how the book stirred me and gave me a deep thirst, to this day, to see the power and glory of God revealed in diverse meetings and whole communities as these were in 1904-1905. The author frequently distinguishes between a spontaneous work of God in revival and a planned and prepared evangelistic campaign or series of “deeper-life” meetings. This book has to do with spontaneous revival. Evan Roberts was only one—though the most prominent—of the young men and women God used in this unplanned, unpredictable and unadvertised series of gatherings. According to the author, this was a revival for young people (Roberts was only 26), a revival of singing, a revival of prayer (mingled largely with praise), a revival of soul-winning, and a revival of personal experience. Tens of thousands came to know Christ as Savior, and great numbers of believers were drawn closer to him. Communities were transformed. The prison population decreased remarkably. Even in the universities revival scenes were commonplace day after day for months. “Longstanding debts were paid, stolen goods returned, drinking taverns forsaken, oaths ceased to be heard so that it was said in the mines the horses could not understand the language of their drivers.” O Lord, let the fire fall! Come, Holy Spirit, come!
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Sunday, May 29, 2011
After Four Years…Moving Ahead
Bob Rakestraw
http://bobrakestraw.blogspot.com
A little over four years ago, in March, 2007, I was placed in hospice care, during which time I would be able to live at home and be visited regularly by a nurse, a social worker, a massage therapist and a chaplain. I would have all the pain medications and palliative care I needed. My transplanted heart was diagnosed as being in a condition known as chronic (permanent) rejection, and I most likely had no more than six months to live.
Rather than simply wait to die I wanted to do something beneficial to others and encouraging to myself as long as I was able. So in May of that year a good friend, former faculty secretary and former student, Abigail Miller, helped me set up a blog, “The Benediction Project,” because I wanted the rest of my life, and my writings, to be a benediction to those I knew and to others around the world.
This month marks the four-year anniversary of “The Benediction Project,” and I am very grateful to God for his direction and strength, and to Abigail for her faithful and skillful management of the blog. In the past four years I have sent out 80 blog postings. There have been 9817 visitors, though with some of these the visitor just touched down briefly. Many, however, have stopped and read for a while. Some of you have even replied with your thoughts on the issue or issues before you. I read each of these replies carefully, although I sometimes find it difficult to respond as I would like. Keep sending them, however! I intend to do better.
As I have reviewed the past four years of postings, two broad themes seem to have emerged: the prevalence of pain, suffering, confusion and distress in this world, and God’s assurances of hope and triumph in the midst of these trials. In brief: life is tough but God is good. Or, as the old chorus says, “It will be worth it all when we see Jesus.” From time to time I have thought about writing on some controversial theological and ethical matters, even politics and world events, since I feel strongly about many issues. I usually refrain, however, because my primary calling (in writing) is to lead people around the world to real hope and fullness of life in Jesus Christ, no matter how difficult their existence may be, and to encourage people to “walk cheerfully over the world, answering that of God in every one” (George Fox). In other words, know God and make him known.
Returning to my situation in May, 2007, in addition to starting the blog, I began to think (actually, think more) of a possible book on prayer. Jane Spriggs, a good friend, Bethel Seminary graduate, and minister in the Evangelical Covenant Church, graciously offered to help with the book. The result is shown in the picture at the very beginning of this blog: “Heart Cries: Praying by the Spirit in the Midst of Life,” a 210 page paperback concerning the meaning of prayer, how we can pray well, and 52 prayers I have written on numerous topics that concern all of us. There is even a chapter on Benedictions of the Bible. Jane and I are receiving feedback that the book is proving to be helpful to others. For this, we praise and thank God. The book was published in 2008 in the Philippines and in 2010 in the United States. It can be ordered by clicking on the line above the cover picture.
Now, as God gives me the wisdom and strength, I am beginning to work on another book. This one will be to people who are suffering and to those who desire to help them. I will be writing this primarily for the international community, speaking directly to those in the developing nations, as I have with “Heart Cries” and its predecessor in this series, “Serving by the Spirit: Spiritual Gifts and Spiritual Preaching” (now distributed in Cuba, in a Spanish edition). Of course I desire that my books be used to minister to people in every situation, but especially those living at the lowest economic levels of this world. Most copies of my recent books are distributed free of charge to some of the 3.2 million pastors and Christian workers in the developing nations who have little or no formal theological training.
It has been seven-and-a-half years since the heart transplant, and my immune system has been working overtime from the start to reject my heart. I was removed from hospice care after eight months, praise God. The rejection is, however, full-blown, and the condition of my heart (especially how it struggles to receive oxygen) is precarious. I appreciate your prayers very, very much, for the ability to move through each day, or lie on the bed, with the peace of God in my heart. The depression and anxiety which were quite serious a few years ago are mostly in the past. To God be the glory!
In gratitude for each of you, including the large number I have never met, wherever you live, I offer this closing benediction:
“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Romans 15:13
http://bobrakestraw.blogspot.com
A little over four years ago, in March, 2007, I was placed in hospice care, during which time I would be able to live at home and be visited regularly by a nurse, a social worker, a massage therapist and a chaplain. I would have all the pain medications and palliative care I needed. My transplanted heart was diagnosed as being in a condition known as chronic (permanent) rejection, and I most likely had no more than six months to live.
Rather than simply wait to die I wanted to do something beneficial to others and encouraging to myself as long as I was able. So in May of that year a good friend, former faculty secretary and former student, Abigail Miller, helped me set up a blog, “The Benediction Project,” because I wanted the rest of my life, and my writings, to be a benediction to those I knew and to others around the world.
This month marks the four-year anniversary of “The Benediction Project,” and I am very grateful to God for his direction and strength, and to Abigail for her faithful and skillful management of the blog. In the past four years I have sent out 80 blog postings. There have been 9817 visitors, though with some of these the visitor just touched down briefly. Many, however, have stopped and read for a while. Some of you have even replied with your thoughts on the issue or issues before you. I read each of these replies carefully, although I sometimes find it difficult to respond as I would like. Keep sending them, however! I intend to do better.
As I have reviewed the past four years of postings, two broad themes seem to have emerged: the prevalence of pain, suffering, confusion and distress in this world, and God’s assurances of hope and triumph in the midst of these trials. In brief: life is tough but God is good. Or, as the old chorus says, “It will be worth it all when we see Jesus.” From time to time I have thought about writing on some controversial theological and ethical matters, even politics and world events, since I feel strongly about many issues. I usually refrain, however, because my primary calling (in writing) is to lead people around the world to real hope and fullness of life in Jesus Christ, no matter how difficult their existence may be, and to encourage people to “walk cheerfully over the world, answering that of God in every one” (George Fox). In other words, know God and make him known.
Returning to my situation in May, 2007, in addition to starting the blog, I began to think (actually, think more) of a possible book on prayer. Jane Spriggs, a good friend, Bethel Seminary graduate, and minister in the Evangelical Covenant Church, graciously offered to help with the book. The result is shown in the picture at the very beginning of this blog: “Heart Cries: Praying by the Spirit in the Midst of Life,” a 210 page paperback concerning the meaning of prayer, how we can pray well, and 52 prayers I have written on numerous topics that concern all of us. There is even a chapter on Benedictions of the Bible. Jane and I are receiving feedback that the book is proving to be helpful to others. For this, we praise and thank God. The book was published in 2008 in the Philippines and in 2010 in the United States. It can be ordered by clicking on the line above the cover picture.
Now, as God gives me the wisdom and strength, I am beginning to work on another book. This one will be to people who are suffering and to those who desire to help them. I will be writing this primarily for the international community, speaking directly to those in the developing nations, as I have with “Heart Cries” and its predecessor in this series, “Serving by the Spirit: Spiritual Gifts and Spiritual Preaching” (now distributed in Cuba, in a Spanish edition). Of course I desire that my books be used to minister to people in every situation, but especially those living at the lowest economic levels of this world. Most copies of my recent books are distributed free of charge to some of the 3.2 million pastors and Christian workers in the developing nations who have little or no formal theological training.
It has been seven-and-a-half years since the heart transplant, and my immune system has been working overtime from the start to reject my heart. I was removed from hospice care after eight months, praise God. The rejection is, however, full-blown, and the condition of my heart (especially how it struggles to receive oxygen) is precarious. I appreciate your prayers very, very much, for the ability to move through each day, or lie on the bed, with the peace of God in my heart. The depression and anxiety which were quite serious a few years ago are mostly in the past. To God be the glory!
In gratitude for each of you, including the large number I have never met, wherever you live, I offer this closing benediction:
“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.” Romans 15:13
Saturday, April 30, 2011
A World of Hope
Bob Rakestraw
April 30, 2011
http://bobrakestraw.blogspot.com
As I thought and prayed recently about writing this month’s posting, I assumed I would be developing the same theme as last month: the world. I felt that I barely scratched the surface in “Ways of the World.” Today, however, God seemed to shift my focus to the topic of hope. My wife spoke to me this morning about hope and her words struck a resonant chord within me. Also this morning, while reading in the truly remarkable Gospel of John (I have been reading and meditating in it for months), I was continually made aware of the powerful gift of hope from God to his people.
As I pondered which direction to go, I felt that I should combine these themes while using the Gospel of John as my guide. But in John, the word hope is used only once, referring to those who set their hopes in Moses (5:45). However, the word world (Greek, cosmos or kosmos) is used 78 times in John’s gospel. Where, then, do I find hope in this Bible book?
In my posting of October 30, 2010 (“Is There any Hope?”), I defined the word hope. As a noun, hope can mean, in part, “a feeling of expectation and desire combined,” or “what one hopes for.” As a verb it can mean “to feel hope, to expect and desire, feel fairly confident.” The word itself is not needed in John’s gospel to convey a strong sense of hope. The book, read as a whole, can engender great expectations and desires in the one reading it with a mind and heart listening for God.
In the New Testament cosmos is used in several ways, referring, for example, to the earth, the universe, and the human race. Most of the time in the New Testament, however, and almost always in the Gospel of John, it refers to the world of people. Yet cosmos does not connote individuals as merely inhabitants of planet earth, but has a much more sinister side to it. When understood as the world of men and women, cosmos
"constitutes a uniform subject which opposes God in enmity, resists the redeeming work of the Son, does not believe in him, and indeed hates him (7:7; 15; 18ff.). It is ruled by the prince of this cosmos (12:31; 16:11), i.e. the Evil One (1Jn. 5:18). Nonetheless, the Son remains the victor over the world (16:33). This does not lead to the extinction of the cosmos but to the redeemer of the world creating [human beings] who are not born “from out of the cosmos” (15:19; 17:14, 16) but of God (1:12f.) and the Holy Spirit (3:5). They endure much anguish in the world, but are removed from its domination (16:33)” (J. Guhrt, in “The New International Dictionary of New Testament Theology”).
If Jesus and the Gospel of John refer repeatedly to the world in such severely negative terms, doesn’t a reading of this book lead more to despair than to hope? While it is certain that John’s gospel gives no comfort to those who are living according to the patterns and cravings of this world, it is also certain that those who trust in Jesus and, through his power, resist the seductive and pervasive pull of the world, are the most peaceful, joyful and hopeful of all inhabitants of the world. A brief overview of some statements concerning the world in John’s gospel engenders the hope we all need so mightily.
One of the most striking teachings of Jesus concerning this world, mentioned above, is that it is governed by a prince (archon, meaning ruler). This personal being, identified as Satan elsewhere in scripture (Mt. 12:24-28) does not have absolute authority, but is permitted by God to preside over the cosmos as a manipulator, deceiver and destroyer of souls (1 John 5:18-19). Three times Jesus refers to this prince in John’s gospel, and speaks of him in relation to his judgment on Christ’s cross. “The prince of this world is coming, [but] he has no hold on me” (14:30). “Now is the time for judgment on this world; now the prince of this world will be driven out” (12:31). “The prince of this world now stands condemned” (16:11). Even though Satan still wanders over this cosmos as the prince of darkness, he has been fatally wounded and officially dethroned by the Lord of all (see also Col. 2:13-15).
While the book of John heartens us by assuring us of the judgment of the evil one on the cross, we are emboldened and given even greater hope from further comments about the world. “The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world” (1:9). “Look, the lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (1:29). “For God so loved the world.” He “did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him” (3:16-17). “We know that this man really is the Savior of the world” (4:42). “For the bread of God is he who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world” (6:33). “Those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life” (12:25, NRSV). “I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness” (12:46).
On the night before he died Jesus prayed a remarkable prayer. With all that he had on his heart, he prayed extensively about the relationship of his children to the world, both for our protection from the world and for Christian unity as a powerful witness to the world (17:6-23). He gives us his peace, of which he says, “I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid” (14:27). “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (16:33).
One of my favorite songs is “It’s a Wonderful World,” sung by Louis Armstrong. The melody and the sentiment are truly beautiful. But in the sense in which Jesus and the New Testament writers speak of the world, it is not wonderful at all. I still sing the song for its uplifting quality, but I also keep in mind the cosmos. (I can’t help it; I’m a theologian!) When I look over a big city at night from a high vantage point, and I see the bright lights, the graceful bridges, the tall, elegant buildings with their thousands of glass panels, and perhaps a river winding through the city, I also can’t help but think of the angry prince of darkness who rules over this world and this city.
I think of the rats. Someone said there are eight million rats in New York City—one for each of the eight million residents. I think of the drug houses and the drug deals. I think of the prostitution, the corrupt big-money deals, the poverty, the malnutrition, the overeating, overdrinking and overindulging in every imaginable way. I think of the deep sorrow in the hearts of the victimized children and adults. This is not the world that the creators of “It’s a Wonderful World” or “This is my Father’s World” had in mind. Yet it is the world God so loved.
It is the world Jesus entered, not to condemn it but to save it. It is the world Christ’s followers are not removed from just because the world hates them, (John 17:14-23). Rather, we are left here, showing the world by our love and unity, that there is great hope today, tomorrow and every day to come. Our Lord has overcome the world, and this victory in which we share here and now is ours to experience by faith and obedience, “because the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world” (1 John 4:4). Have hope, dear friends, for whatever your concerns are today. Your hope is not in vain.
April 30, 2011
http://bobrakestraw.blogspot.com
As I thought and prayed recently about writing this month’s posting, I assumed I would be developing the same theme as last month: the world. I felt that I barely scratched the surface in “Ways of the World.” Today, however, God seemed to shift my focus to the topic of hope. My wife spoke to me this morning about hope and her words struck a resonant chord within me. Also this morning, while reading in the truly remarkable Gospel of John (I have been reading and meditating in it for months), I was continually made aware of the powerful gift of hope from God to his people.
As I pondered which direction to go, I felt that I should combine these themes while using the Gospel of John as my guide. But in John, the word hope is used only once, referring to those who set their hopes in Moses (5:45). However, the word world (Greek, cosmos or kosmos) is used 78 times in John’s gospel. Where, then, do I find hope in this Bible book?
In my posting of October 30, 2010 (“Is There any Hope?”), I defined the word hope. As a noun, hope can mean, in part, “a feeling of expectation and desire combined,” or “what one hopes for.” As a verb it can mean “to feel hope, to expect and desire, feel fairly confident.” The word itself is not needed in John’s gospel to convey a strong sense of hope. The book, read as a whole, can engender great expectations and desires in the one reading it with a mind and heart listening for God.
In the New Testament cosmos is used in several ways, referring, for example, to the earth, the universe, and the human race. Most of the time in the New Testament, however, and almost always in the Gospel of John, it refers to the world of people. Yet cosmos does not connote individuals as merely inhabitants of planet earth, but has a much more sinister side to it. When understood as the world of men and women, cosmos
"constitutes a uniform subject which opposes God in enmity, resists the redeeming work of the Son, does not believe in him, and indeed hates him (7:7; 15; 18ff.). It is ruled by the prince of this cosmos (12:31; 16:11), i.e. the Evil One (1Jn. 5:18). Nonetheless, the Son remains the victor over the world (16:33). This does not lead to the extinction of the cosmos but to the redeemer of the world creating [human beings] who are not born “from out of the cosmos” (15:19; 17:14, 16) but of God (1:12f.) and the Holy Spirit (3:5). They endure much anguish in the world, but are removed from its domination (16:33)” (J. Guhrt, in “The New International Dictionary of New Testament Theology”).
If Jesus and the Gospel of John refer repeatedly to the world in such severely negative terms, doesn’t a reading of this book lead more to despair than to hope? While it is certain that John’s gospel gives no comfort to those who are living according to the patterns and cravings of this world, it is also certain that those who trust in Jesus and, through his power, resist the seductive and pervasive pull of the world, are the most peaceful, joyful and hopeful of all inhabitants of the world. A brief overview of some statements concerning the world in John’s gospel engenders the hope we all need so mightily.
One of the most striking teachings of Jesus concerning this world, mentioned above, is that it is governed by a prince (archon, meaning ruler). This personal being, identified as Satan elsewhere in scripture (Mt. 12:24-28) does not have absolute authority, but is permitted by God to preside over the cosmos as a manipulator, deceiver and destroyer of souls (1 John 5:18-19). Three times Jesus refers to this prince in John’s gospel, and speaks of him in relation to his judgment on Christ’s cross. “The prince of this world is coming, [but] he has no hold on me” (14:30). “Now is the time for judgment on this world; now the prince of this world will be driven out” (12:31). “The prince of this world now stands condemned” (16:11). Even though Satan still wanders over this cosmos as the prince of darkness, he has been fatally wounded and officially dethroned by the Lord of all (see also Col. 2:13-15).
While the book of John heartens us by assuring us of the judgment of the evil one on the cross, we are emboldened and given even greater hope from further comments about the world. “The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world” (1:9). “Look, the lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world” (1:29). “For God so loved the world.” He “did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him” (3:16-17). “We know that this man really is the Savior of the world” (4:42). “For the bread of God is he who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world” (6:33). “Those who hate their life in this world will keep it for eternal life” (12:25, NRSV). “I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness” (12:46).
On the night before he died Jesus prayed a remarkable prayer. With all that he had on his heart, he prayed extensively about the relationship of his children to the world, both for our protection from the world and for Christian unity as a powerful witness to the world (17:6-23). He gives us his peace, of which he says, “I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid” (14:27). “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (16:33).
One of my favorite songs is “It’s a Wonderful World,” sung by Louis Armstrong. The melody and the sentiment are truly beautiful. But in the sense in which Jesus and the New Testament writers speak of the world, it is not wonderful at all. I still sing the song for its uplifting quality, but I also keep in mind the cosmos. (I can’t help it; I’m a theologian!) When I look over a big city at night from a high vantage point, and I see the bright lights, the graceful bridges, the tall, elegant buildings with their thousands of glass panels, and perhaps a river winding through the city, I also can’t help but think of the angry prince of darkness who rules over this world and this city.
I think of the rats. Someone said there are eight million rats in New York City—one for each of the eight million residents. I think of the drug houses and the drug deals. I think of the prostitution, the corrupt big-money deals, the poverty, the malnutrition, the overeating, overdrinking and overindulging in every imaginable way. I think of the deep sorrow in the hearts of the victimized children and adults. This is not the world that the creators of “It’s a Wonderful World” or “This is my Father’s World” had in mind. Yet it is the world God so loved.
It is the world Jesus entered, not to condemn it but to save it. It is the world Christ’s followers are not removed from just because the world hates them, (John 17:14-23). Rather, we are left here, showing the world by our love and unity, that there is great hope today, tomorrow and every day to come. Our Lord has overcome the world, and this victory in which we share here and now is ours to experience by faith and obedience, “because the one who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world” (1 John 4:4). Have hope, dear friends, for whatever your concerns are today. Your hope is not in vain.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Ways of the World
Bob Rakestraw
March 31, 2011
http://bobrakestraw.blogspot.com
Recently I was struck by a scripture verse that I had first studied decades ago: “Therefore whoever wishes to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God” (James 4:4, NASB). What startled me most was the idea of apparently Christian people (2:1) becoming God’s enemies. I especially focused on what it means to be a friend of the world, since it is this condition that leads to the awful reality of being God’s enemy.
I hadn’t thought about “the world” in quite some time, at least not in the sense of this scripture and the worldly attitudes and actions it condemns. While I am often aware that “this world is not my home” (as the song goes) and that, as Christians, our citizenship is in heaven, I am reluctant to spell out specific identifiers of “the world” that Christians are commanded not to love (1 John 2:15).
Part of my hesitancy to write or speak about the world comes from my early years as a believer. I put my trust in Christ as my Savoir and Lord at the age of 19, and was profoundly changed as to my views of God, forgiveness, church, my purpose for living, and the condition of those who do not know Christ.
Lifestyle changes were part of my conversion experience also. In the small, independent church I started attending after I began my new life, I heard much preaching and cautioning against the world and worldliness. I soon learned that some of the things I was expected to avoid included drinking, dancing, swearing, smoking, attending movies, playing cards, bowling (because alcohol was often sold at the bowling alleys), popular music, “mixed bathing” (guys and girls swimming together), and all inappropriate dress. As a new believer I accepted most of these prohibitions without much thought because I was reveling in Bible study and in the enjoyment of my new-found freedom in Christ.
To use the word “freedom” might sound contradictory in view of the numerous restrictions above, but I was basking in my glorious release from guilt, shame and especially from the fear of eternal condemnation. I still feel the freshness and life-giving essence of these freedoms every day I live. While it is no longer easy for me to walk with a spring in my step because of health issues, in my soul I run and skip daily with the Creator of the Universe, who is also my Redeemer, Friend and sovereign Lord.
In the New Testament the word “world” is usually translated from the Greek word kosmos, used 186 times in the manuscripts of the New Testament. kosmos means primarily order, arrangement, ornament, or adornment. The focus of the word is on the orderly arrangement of things. It has numerous senses (uses), such as the earth, the universe, and the human race, but the sense of kosmos for our purposes here is “the present condition of human affairs, in alienation from and opposition to God” (W. E. Vine, “An Expository Dictionary of New Testament Words”). It is this understanding of kosmos that lies behind the scriptures referred to in this piece.
Even more important than a dictionary definition, however, is the context—the scripture portion leading into the text being studied, as well as the verses following, and the purpose and flow of the Bible book (and author) as a whole. The concluding section of James 3 and the opening lines of James 4 are especially important for us to see clearly what James, the brother of Jesus, is referring to in 4:4. The word “therefore” at the start of our verse provides a tight link with the preceding thoughts. Here we read of bitter jealousy, selfish ambition, and an ungodly “wisdom” that is earthly, unspiritual and even demonic. These in turn lead to “disorder and every evil thing.”
Ungodly pleasures (hedonistic desires in the Greek) are mentioned twice in 4:1-3, as is lust, quarrels, conflicts, fights, murder (in the heart), and praying with wrong motives. Those who live this way are referred to as “adulteresses,” because they are spiritually unfaithful. They are giving their love to the world rather than to Jesus Christ, whose bride they profess (or once did profess) to be. In another scripture we are told that “if anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him,” and the context here describes the world as “the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the boastful pride of life” (1 John 2:15-16).
It is not my purpose here to give a code of activities that I consider “worldly” Rather, I want the scriptures just given to speak (in part) on this crucial topic. Some of the “worldly” local church prohibitions I listed earlier are, to be sure, displeasing to God. But, as I said, I barely thought about such matters. I was gloriously “Free from the law, O happy condition,” as the old hymn states, and the book of Galatians teaches. I just wanted to live totally for Christ, receiving my beliefs and guidelines for living from the Bible.
I cannot help thinking, however, that I would have benefited much more than I did in my early years as a Christian if I had been taught the full biblical truth about the world and worldliness. Even though (and praise be to God) Christ is the light of the kosmos (John 1:9; 3:16; 8:12), the world is no friend of God.
Worldly people are not necessarily constituted such by the cars they drive, the labels on their clothes, or how much they pay for their hair styling. A “friend of the world,” rather, is one who is captivated by the things, the culture, the patterns, the schemes, and the jealousy, selfish ambitions and lustful cravings for money, sex and power that dominate the minds, words and actions of those who live in opposition (knowingly or not) to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.
All of us must live in this world—it is the world God so loved. “As he is, so also are we in this world” (1 John 4:17). Even though there is much in this world that we can (and must) use for our benefit, and for making known the saving gospel of Christ, the awful truth remains that “friendship with the world is hostility toward God” (James 4:4). They were the rulers of this world who crucified our Lord, therefore: “Do not be surprised, brothers and sisters, if the world hates you” (1 John 3:13). There is glorious hope, however, and with this we close: “For whatever is born of God overcomes the world; and this is the victory that has overcome the world—our faith” (1 John 5:4).
March 31, 2011
http://bobrakestraw.blogspot.com
Recently I was struck by a scripture verse that I had first studied decades ago: “Therefore whoever wishes to be a friend of the world makes himself an enemy of God” (James 4:4, NASB). What startled me most was the idea of apparently Christian people (2:1) becoming God’s enemies. I especially focused on what it means to be a friend of the world, since it is this condition that leads to the awful reality of being God’s enemy.
I hadn’t thought about “the world” in quite some time, at least not in the sense of this scripture and the worldly attitudes and actions it condemns. While I am often aware that “this world is not my home” (as the song goes) and that, as Christians, our citizenship is in heaven, I am reluctant to spell out specific identifiers of “the world” that Christians are commanded not to love (1 John 2:15).
Part of my hesitancy to write or speak about the world comes from my early years as a believer. I put my trust in Christ as my Savoir and Lord at the age of 19, and was profoundly changed as to my views of God, forgiveness, church, my purpose for living, and the condition of those who do not know Christ.
Lifestyle changes were part of my conversion experience also. In the small, independent church I started attending after I began my new life, I heard much preaching and cautioning against the world and worldliness. I soon learned that some of the things I was expected to avoid included drinking, dancing, swearing, smoking, attending movies, playing cards, bowling (because alcohol was often sold at the bowling alleys), popular music, “mixed bathing” (guys and girls swimming together), and all inappropriate dress. As a new believer I accepted most of these prohibitions without much thought because I was reveling in Bible study and in the enjoyment of my new-found freedom in Christ.
To use the word “freedom” might sound contradictory in view of the numerous restrictions above, but I was basking in my glorious release from guilt, shame and especially from the fear of eternal condemnation. I still feel the freshness and life-giving essence of these freedoms every day I live. While it is no longer easy for me to walk with a spring in my step because of health issues, in my soul I run and skip daily with the Creator of the Universe, who is also my Redeemer, Friend and sovereign Lord.
In the New Testament the word “world” is usually translated from the Greek word kosmos, used 186 times in the manuscripts of the New Testament. kosmos means primarily order, arrangement, ornament, or adornment. The focus of the word is on the orderly arrangement of things. It has numerous senses (uses), such as the earth, the universe, and the human race, but the sense of kosmos for our purposes here is “the present condition of human affairs, in alienation from and opposition to God” (W. E. Vine, “An Expository Dictionary of New Testament Words”). It is this understanding of kosmos that lies behind the scriptures referred to in this piece.
Even more important than a dictionary definition, however, is the context—the scripture portion leading into the text being studied, as well as the verses following, and the purpose and flow of the Bible book (and author) as a whole. The concluding section of James 3 and the opening lines of James 4 are especially important for us to see clearly what James, the brother of Jesus, is referring to in 4:4. The word “therefore” at the start of our verse provides a tight link with the preceding thoughts. Here we read of bitter jealousy, selfish ambition, and an ungodly “wisdom” that is earthly, unspiritual and even demonic. These in turn lead to “disorder and every evil thing.”
Ungodly pleasures (hedonistic desires in the Greek) are mentioned twice in 4:1-3, as is lust, quarrels, conflicts, fights, murder (in the heart), and praying with wrong motives. Those who live this way are referred to as “adulteresses,” because they are spiritually unfaithful. They are giving their love to the world rather than to Jesus Christ, whose bride they profess (or once did profess) to be. In another scripture we are told that “if anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him,” and the context here describes the world as “the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes and the boastful pride of life” (1 John 2:15-16).
It is not my purpose here to give a code of activities that I consider “worldly” Rather, I want the scriptures just given to speak (in part) on this crucial topic. Some of the “worldly” local church prohibitions I listed earlier are, to be sure, displeasing to God. But, as I said, I barely thought about such matters. I was gloriously “Free from the law, O happy condition,” as the old hymn states, and the book of Galatians teaches. I just wanted to live totally for Christ, receiving my beliefs and guidelines for living from the Bible.
I cannot help thinking, however, that I would have benefited much more than I did in my early years as a Christian if I had been taught the full biblical truth about the world and worldliness. Even though (and praise be to God) Christ is the light of the kosmos (John 1:9; 3:16; 8:12), the world is no friend of God.
Worldly people are not necessarily constituted such by the cars they drive, the labels on their clothes, or how much they pay for their hair styling. A “friend of the world,” rather, is one who is captivated by the things, the culture, the patterns, the schemes, and the jealousy, selfish ambitions and lustful cravings for money, sex and power that dominate the minds, words and actions of those who live in opposition (knowingly or not) to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.
All of us must live in this world—it is the world God so loved. “As he is, so also are we in this world” (1 John 4:17). Even though there is much in this world that we can (and must) use for our benefit, and for making known the saving gospel of Christ, the awful truth remains that “friendship with the world is hostility toward God” (James 4:4). They were the rulers of this world who crucified our Lord, therefore: “Do not be surprised, brothers and sisters, if the world hates you” (1 John 3:13). There is glorious hope, however, and with this we close: “For whatever is born of God overcomes the world; and this is the victory that has overcome the world—our faith” (1 John 5:4).
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Adversity,…and High Ambition
Bob Rakestraw
http://bobrakestraw.blogspot.com
I think often of you who read this blog. Some of you I know, but most I do not. The sitemeter map shows red dots around the world where you live, and I love to contemplate you in your various countries, seeking earnestly (I trust) for some insight, encouragement or blessing from The Benediction Project. Thank you for reading and for sending your comments from time to time.
These are difficult days. Numerous friends and acquaintances are going through some kind of adversity. Just within the past few weeks I have become aware of friends and/or family members struggling with job issues, financial stresses, physical health problems, losses, relationship breakdowns, loneliness, disillusionment with life, psychological illnesses, discouragement with children, and so on. No doubt you have those in your life grappling with these or similar issues. Perhaps you yourself are suffering in one or more of the above ways.
Over the years I have become increasingly aware of the sufferings of others, including both the varieties of suffering and the extent/severity of these afflictions. Especially since 2003, when I had a heart transplant that would give me, I thought, an improved quality of life, I have been reading books and materials (especially autobiographical accounts) on the issues of suffering.
One of the truly great books on the topic of suffering, particularly physical illness and pain—a book Ruth Bell Graham called “by far the best I have found”—is by the former missionary to India, Amy Carmichael. Through her years of serious pain and disability she wrote down her thoughts in "Rose from Briar", a book that has helped me more than any other, except the Bible, during the past seven-and-a-half years of post-transplant difficulties. While Carmichael’s book comes out of her physical trials, her words have great pertinence to other categories of suffering. I wish to share some thoughts from her book so that you may find strength in whatever adversity you find yourself.
Carmichael begins one chapter with a personal word from Julian of Norwich, who wrote some 500 years ago that when she was earnestly thinking of our Lord’s suffering, and trying to see (as it were) his dying,
…suddenly, He changed the look of His blessed Countenance. The changing of His blessed Countenance changed mine, and I was as glad and merry as it was possible. Then brought our Lord merrily to my mind: “Where is now any point of the pain or of thy grief?” And I was full merry.
Carmichael then presents Julian’s reflections on the mystery of our identification with Christ on the cross.
I understood that we be now, in our Lord’s meaning, in His cross with Him in His pains and His passion, dying; and we, willingly abiding in the same Cross with His help and His grace unto the last point, suddenly He shall change His Cheer to us, and we shall be with Him in Heaven. Betwixt that one and that other shall be no time, and then shall all be brought to joy.
The following words of Amy Carmichael, after she ponders Julian’s being “full merry,” are some of the most remarkably bold that I know of in Christian literature. From these I thought of the title for this posting: “Adversity,…and High Ambition.”
It seems to me clear beyond question that in the lives of God’s beloved there are sometimes periods when the adversary is “given power to overcome.” This power need never overwhelm the inner courts of the spirit, but it may press hard on the outworks of being. And so I have been asking that our dearest Lord may have the joy (surely it must be a joy to Him) of saying about each one of us, and about us all as a little company of His children: “I can count on him, on her, on them for anything. I can count on them for peace under any disappointment or series of disappointments, under any strain. I can trust them never to set limits, saying, ‘Thus far, and no farther.’ I can trust them not to offer the reluctant obedience of a doubtful faith, but to be as glad and merry as it is possible.”
And all that begins in the gift of a great contentment.
It is my desire for myself, and each of you, that these words, coming from the pen of one of God’s choice suffering servants (and now in glory with him), may express our High Ambition in the midst of any adversity. For it is then that we will be “as glad and merry as it is possible” in this life.
http://bobrakestraw.blogspot.com
I think often of you who read this blog. Some of you I know, but most I do not. The sitemeter map shows red dots around the world where you live, and I love to contemplate you in your various countries, seeking earnestly (I trust) for some insight, encouragement or blessing from The Benediction Project. Thank you for reading and for sending your comments from time to time.
These are difficult days. Numerous friends and acquaintances are going through some kind of adversity. Just within the past few weeks I have become aware of friends and/or family members struggling with job issues, financial stresses, physical health problems, losses, relationship breakdowns, loneliness, disillusionment with life, psychological illnesses, discouragement with children, and so on. No doubt you have those in your life grappling with these or similar issues. Perhaps you yourself are suffering in one or more of the above ways.
Over the years I have become increasingly aware of the sufferings of others, including both the varieties of suffering and the extent/severity of these afflictions. Especially since 2003, when I had a heart transplant that would give me, I thought, an improved quality of life, I have been reading books and materials (especially autobiographical accounts) on the issues of suffering.
One of the truly great books on the topic of suffering, particularly physical illness and pain—a book Ruth Bell Graham called “by far the best I have found”—is by the former missionary to India, Amy Carmichael. Through her years of serious pain and disability she wrote down her thoughts in "Rose from Briar", a book that has helped me more than any other, except the Bible, during the past seven-and-a-half years of post-transplant difficulties. While Carmichael’s book comes out of her physical trials, her words have great pertinence to other categories of suffering. I wish to share some thoughts from her book so that you may find strength in whatever adversity you find yourself.
Carmichael begins one chapter with a personal word from Julian of Norwich, who wrote some 500 years ago that when she was earnestly thinking of our Lord’s suffering, and trying to see (as it were) his dying,
…suddenly, He changed the look of His blessed Countenance. The changing of His blessed Countenance changed mine, and I was as glad and merry as it was possible. Then brought our Lord merrily to my mind: “Where is now any point of the pain or of thy grief?” And I was full merry.
Carmichael then presents Julian’s reflections on the mystery of our identification with Christ on the cross.
I understood that we be now, in our Lord’s meaning, in His cross with Him in His pains and His passion, dying; and we, willingly abiding in the same Cross with His help and His grace unto the last point, suddenly He shall change His Cheer to us, and we shall be with Him in Heaven. Betwixt that one and that other shall be no time, and then shall all be brought to joy.
The following words of Amy Carmichael, after she ponders Julian’s being “full merry,” are some of the most remarkably bold that I know of in Christian literature. From these I thought of the title for this posting: “Adversity,…and High Ambition.”
It seems to me clear beyond question that in the lives of God’s beloved there are sometimes periods when the adversary is “given power to overcome.” This power need never overwhelm the inner courts of the spirit, but it may press hard on the outworks of being. And so I have been asking that our dearest Lord may have the joy (surely it must be a joy to Him) of saying about each one of us, and about us all as a little company of His children: “I can count on him, on her, on them for anything. I can count on them for peace under any disappointment or series of disappointments, under any strain. I can trust them never to set limits, saying, ‘Thus far, and no farther.’ I can trust them not to offer the reluctant obedience of a doubtful faith, but to be as glad and merry as it is possible.”
And all that begins in the gift of a great contentment.
It is my desire for myself, and each of you, that these words, coming from the pen of one of God’s choice suffering servants (and now in glory with him), may express our High Ambition in the midst of any adversity. For it is then that we will be “as glad and merry as it is possible” in this life.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Playing God, Believing God
Bob Rakestraw
http://bobrakestraw.com
When people suffer severely they sometimes try to play God or have someone else play God for them. The term “playing God” is usually not mentioned in discussions between the suffering person and his/her family, friends and medical care team. It is, however, an underlying component—often unrecognized—in the swirl of conflicting ideas and emotions. Whenever the expression is mentioned it is done so as a negative thing.
People may or may not be thought of as playing God depending on the decisions they make about human life, especially concerning the beginning and ending of life, but throughout one’s lifetime as well. Abortion, infanticide, physician-assisted suicide and euthanasia are all looked upon as playing God by right-to-life Christians, with whom I seriously and gladly identify. In the cases just mentioned, people are taking into their own hands the right to end their life or someone else’s life, even though such a right belongs to God alone. Right-to-life Christians feel strongly that nothing should be done to deliberately end another’s life (although they often make exceptions in cases of warfare and capital punishment). To intend to shorten life is to play God.
There is another way we may play God, however, and that is by trying to extend life. This can happen when the suffering person is in such a condition that it is evident to those prayerfully concerned for him or her, and those offering medical care, that the patient’s life is nearly over, and that technology (whether in use or about to be attached) is, in reality, prolonging death (and possibly suffering) rather than advancing life.
As you realize, I have bitten off a big chunk of material in the paragraphs above. Please forgive me for not addressing every nuance (and there are many) that is tied to the concepts and words above. These issues are highly controversial. I hesitated about writing on them but felt that God wanted me to make a point—not primarily about playing God but about believing God.
Many of you, dear readers, know that I have struggled for twenty-five years with heart problems. I had open-heart surgery in 1991 and a heart transplant in 2003. Because my health continued to be poor after the transplant, I reluctantly retired from teaching at Bethel Seminary in 2005. In the seven years since my transplant I have had numerous bouts of acute rejection, frequent invasive medical procedures, tests, consultations, trips to the emergency room, and hospital stays. I am now in a condition called permanent (chronic) transplant vasculopathy, and in March, 2007, two doctors told me I likely had no more than six months to live. Well, God keeps me going, and he gives me peace.
This leads to the interaction of playing God and believing God. At what point might our inclination to play God conflict with our intention to trust God (I am using “trust” and “believe” interchangeably)? In some crises of life, it is not always clear-cut that a decision is playing God. A teenage boy rushed to the hospital after a serious motorcycle crash may lead to a critical choice concerning high-risk brain surgery. The surgery may take the boy’s life or leave him as a vegetable, or it may help him return to normal life.
Some family members—strong believers—want the surgery, because they think it may be playing God to withhold a chance at recovery. Whatever is possible should be done, they believe. Other family members—equally strong believers—think it may be playing God to request the surgery and that the family should, given the surgical risk to their loved one’s life, entrust him to God’s care, believing that God does all things well. Whatever can be done does not always need to be done, they believe.
Where do we draw the line between playing God and trusting God? Who decides what is the one or the other? Who is the more faithful servant of God, the family member who authorizes the surgery, or the one who chooses to withhold it (and possibly withhold other means of life support)?
My own story is not that of the teenager. His case involves an urgent, immediate decision. I have grappled much, however, with bioethical decisions over the course of my illness. I hesitated to have my mitral valve surgery in 1991 because of the huge cost, even though I had good insurance. It didn’t seem right to have so much money spent on me when the vast majority of the world’s people could never afford such a procedure. I had the same hesitation about my heart transplant in 2003.
Now I am at the point where nothing can be done for my otherwise terminal condition except a second transplant. When I was first offered this possibility I said “Thanks but no thanks.” Then, after family discussion and prayer, I said, “Yes.” A while later I said “No” again, and for the past few years my family and I have settled comfortably on this final decision. It is not primarily the financial factor holding me back, although my sense of justice is still shocked, and even repulsed, by the anticipated cost of the surgery—a second time. I am not receiving another heart because I believe, with good reason, that the level of suffering of the past seven years since my transplant will be no different after the surgery than before. Since my post-transplant experience has been more “mysterious” (my nurse’s words just a few weeks ago) than that of others, my suffering could very well be worse.
I am also concerned about the issue of playing God. With medical care, everything possible is not mandatory. Doctors (whom I admire and appreciate) are trained in such a way that they are extremely reluctant to say that nothing more can be done for a patient. On January 3 I was on the table in the heart catheterization lab, with the IV and other measuring devices hooked up to me, and with the angiogram tubes in me. My coronary artery blockages were so severe that the cardiologist wanted to try an experimental and risky procedure in one of the arteries. I said “no” and he became quite agitated at me. He ended the angiogram right there, omitting the other half of my heart, since I did not consent to what would have been the start of numerous such procedures. After I was wheeled back to my hospital room, another cardiologist told me that the procedures in question, if done, would not have lengthened my life or prevented heart attacks. They might have helped for a time with my labored breathing and nausea, two of my daily difficulties, but such an outcome would not have been certain.
I feel good about this recent decision, especially since my wife, Judy, and I had prayed about this very issue according to James 1:5-8 just moments before the nurse came to take me to the cath lab. I feel good as well about the decision to refuse a second transplant.
Decision-making in matters of medical care is not always easy. My situation is just one of a multitude of possible scenarios. Other people might have made different decisions, and I fully admit and respect the possibility that two or more choices in a given situation may be admissible. My view—about the overall issue of playing God, as well as my personal condition—is not infallible. I believe God is pleased with my decision, but I admit that he may have been just as pleased if I had chosen differently at different points on my journey.
At some time or another in life, most or all of us will need to think about playing God, either by shortening or by extending human life by certain technologies, when the wiser choice would seem to others to leave the situation with God who does all things well. Palliative care, such as pain relief, is mandatory, of course.
In many cases, in my view, the actual decision is not as important as the attitude and state of mind of the one or ones making the decision, especially if the decision-makers claim to belong to and believe their God and Father. Am I trusting God for wisdom according to James 1, since he knows that I am weak and unable to calculate the risks and benefits with precision? Yes, we must make tough decisions at times—for our own care and that of others, and if we do so with an attitude of composure and rest in God’s arms, our decisions will be acceptable in God’s eyes.
http://bobrakestraw.com
When people suffer severely they sometimes try to play God or have someone else play God for them. The term “playing God” is usually not mentioned in discussions between the suffering person and his/her family, friends and medical care team. It is, however, an underlying component—often unrecognized—in the swirl of conflicting ideas and emotions. Whenever the expression is mentioned it is done so as a negative thing.
People may or may not be thought of as playing God depending on the decisions they make about human life, especially concerning the beginning and ending of life, but throughout one’s lifetime as well. Abortion, infanticide, physician-assisted suicide and euthanasia are all looked upon as playing God by right-to-life Christians, with whom I seriously and gladly identify. In the cases just mentioned, people are taking into their own hands the right to end their life or someone else’s life, even though such a right belongs to God alone. Right-to-life Christians feel strongly that nothing should be done to deliberately end another’s life (although they often make exceptions in cases of warfare and capital punishment). To intend to shorten life is to play God.
There is another way we may play God, however, and that is by trying to extend life. This can happen when the suffering person is in such a condition that it is evident to those prayerfully concerned for him or her, and those offering medical care, that the patient’s life is nearly over, and that technology (whether in use or about to be attached) is, in reality, prolonging death (and possibly suffering) rather than advancing life.
As you realize, I have bitten off a big chunk of material in the paragraphs above. Please forgive me for not addressing every nuance (and there are many) that is tied to the concepts and words above. These issues are highly controversial. I hesitated about writing on them but felt that God wanted me to make a point—not primarily about playing God but about believing God.
Many of you, dear readers, know that I have struggled for twenty-five years with heart problems. I had open-heart surgery in 1991 and a heart transplant in 2003. Because my health continued to be poor after the transplant, I reluctantly retired from teaching at Bethel Seminary in 2005. In the seven years since my transplant I have had numerous bouts of acute rejection, frequent invasive medical procedures, tests, consultations, trips to the emergency room, and hospital stays. I am now in a condition called permanent (chronic) transplant vasculopathy, and in March, 2007, two doctors told me I likely had no more than six months to live. Well, God keeps me going, and he gives me peace.
This leads to the interaction of playing God and believing God. At what point might our inclination to play God conflict with our intention to trust God (I am using “trust” and “believe” interchangeably)? In some crises of life, it is not always clear-cut that a decision is playing God. A teenage boy rushed to the hospital after a serious motorcycle crash may lead to a critical choice concerning high-risk brain surgery. The surgery may take the boy’s life or leave him as a vegetable, or it may help him return to normal life.
Some family members—strong believers—want the surgery, because they think it may be playing God to withhold a chance at recovery. Whatever is possible should be done, they believe. Other family members—equally strong believers—think it may be playing God to request the surgery and that the family should, given the surgical risk to their loved one’s life, entrust him to God’s care, believing that God does all things well. Whatever can be done does not always need to be done, they believe.
Where do we draw the line between playing God and trusting God? Who decides what is the one or the other? Who is the more faithful servant of God, the family member who authorizes the surgery, or the one who chooses to withhold it (and possibly withhold other means of life support)?
My own story is not that of the teenager. His case involves an urgent, immediate decision. I have grappled much, however, with bioethical decisions over the course of my illness. I hesitated to have my mitral valve surgery in 1991 because of the huge cost, even though I had good insurance. It didn’t seem right to have so much money spent on me when the vast majority of the world’s people could never afford such a procedure. I had the same hesitation about my heart transplant in 2003.
Now I am at the point where nothing can be done for my otherwise terminal condition except a second transplant. When I was first offered this possibility I said “Thanks but no thanks.” Then, after family discussion and prayer, I said, “Yes.” A while later I said “No” again, and for the past few years my family and I have settled comfortably on this final decision. It is not primarily the financial factor holding me back, although my sense of justice is still shocked, and even repulsed, by the anticipated cost of the surgery—a second time. I am not receiving another heart because I believe, with good reason, that the level of suffering of the past seven years since my transplant will be no different after the surgery than before. Since my post-transplant experience has been more “mysterious” (my nurse’s words just a few weeks ago) than that of others, my suffering could very well be worse.
I am also concerned about the issue of playing God. With medical care, everything possible is not mandatory. Doctors (whom I admire and appreciate) are trained in such a way that they are extremely reluctant to say that nothing more can be done for a patient. On January 3 I was on the table in the heart catheterization lab, with the IV and other measuring devices hooked up to me, and with the angiogram tubes in me. My coronary artery blockages were so severe that the cardiologist wanted to try an experimental and risky procedure in one of the arteries. I said “no” and he became quite agitated at me. He ended the angiogram right there, omitting the other half of my heart, since I did not consent to what would have been the start of numerous such procedures. After I was wheeled back to my hospital room, another cardiologist told me that the procedures in question, if done, would not have lengthened my life or prevented heart attacks. They might have helped for a time with my labored breathing and nausea, two of my daily difficulties, but such an outcome would not have been certain.
I feel good about this recent decision, especially since my wife, Judy, and I had prayed about this very issue according to James 1:5-8 just moments before the nurse came to take me to the cath lab. I feel good as well about the decision to refuse a second transplant.
Decision-making in matters of medical care is not always easy. My situation is just one of a multitude of possible scenarios. Other people might have made different decisions, and I fully admit and respect the possibility that two or more choices in a given situation may be admissible. My view—about the overall issue of playing God, as well as my personal condition—is not infallible. I believe God is pleased with my decision, but I admit that he may have been just as pleased if I had chosen differently at different points on my journey.
At some time or another in life, most or all of us will need to think about playing God, either by shortening or by extending human life by certain technologies, when the wiser choice would seem to others to leave the situation with God who does all things well. Palliative care, such as pain relief, is mandatory, of course.
In many cases, in my view, the actual decision is not as important as the attitude and state of mind of the one or ones making the decision, especially if the decision-makers claim to belong to and believe their God and Father. Am I trusting God for wisdom according to James 1, since he knows that I am weak and unable to calculate the risks and benefits with precision? Yes, we must make tough decisions at times—for our own care and that of others, and if we do so with an attitude of composure and rest in God’s arms, our decisions will be acceptable in God’s eyes.
Playing God, Believing God
Bob Rakestraw
http://bobrakestraw.com
When people suffer severely they sometimes try to play God or have someone else play God for them. The term “playing God” is usually not mentioned in discussions between the suffering person and his/her family, friends and medical care team. It is, however, an underlying component—often unrecognized—in the swirl of conflicting ideas and emotions. Whenever the expression is mentioned it is done so as a negative thing.
People may or may not be thought of as playing God depending on the decisions they make about human life, especially concerning the beginning and ending of life, but throughout one’s lifetime as well. Abortion, infanticide, physician-assisted suicide and euthanasia are all looked upon as playing God by right-to-life Christians, with whom I seriously and gladly identify. In the cases just mentioned, people are taking into their own hands the right to end their life or someone else’s life, even though such a right belongs to God alone. Right-to-life Christians feel strongly that nothing should be done to deliberately end another’s life (although they often make exceptions in cases of warfare and capital punishment). To intend to shorten life is to play God.
There is another way we may play God, however, and that is by trying to extend life. This can happen when the suffering person is in such a condition that it is evident to those prayerfully concerned for him or her, and those offering medical care, that the patient’s life is nearly over, and that technology (whether in use or about to be attached) is, in reality, prolonging death (and possibly suffering) rather than advancing life.
As you realize, I have bitten off a big chunk of material in the paragraphs above. Please forgive me for not addressing every nuance (and there are many) that is tied to the concepts and words above. These issues are highly controversial. I hesitated about writing on them but felt that God wanted me to make a point—not primarily about playing God but about believing God.
Many of you, dear readers, know that I have struggled for twenty-five years with heart problems. I had open-heart surgery in 1991 and a heart transplant in 2003. Because my health continued to be poor after the transplant, I reluctantly retired from teaching at Bethel Seminary in 2005. In the seven years since my transplant I have had numerous bouts of acute rejection, frequent invasive medical procedures, tests, consultations, trips to the emergency room, and hospital stays. I am now in a condition called permanent (chronic) transplant vasculopathy, and in March, 2007, two doctors told me I likely had no more than six months to live. Well, God keeps me going, and he gives me peace.
This leads to the interaction of playing God and believing God. At what point might our inclination to play God conflict with our intention to trust God (I am using “trust” and “believe” interchangeably)? In some crises of life, it is not always clear-cut that a decision is playing God. A teenage boy rushed to the hospital after a serious motorcycle crash may lead to a critical choice concerning high-risk brain surgery. The surgery may take the boy’s life or leave him as a vegetable, or it may help him return to normal life.
Some family members—strong believers—want the surgery, because they think it may be playing God to withhold a chance at recovery. Whatever is possible should be done, they believe. Other family members—equally strong believers—think it may be playing God to request the surgery and that the family should, given the surgical risk to their loved one’s life, entrust him to God’s care, believing that God does all things well. Whatever can be done does not always need to be done, they believe.
Where do we draw the line between playing God and trusting God? Who decides what is the one or the other? Who is the more faithful servant of God, the family member who authorizes the surgery, or the one who chooses to withhold it (and possibly withhold other means of life support)?
My own story is not that of the teenager. His case involves an urgent, immediate decision. I have grappled much, however, with bioethical decisions over the course of my illness. I hesitated to have my mitral valve surgery in 1991 because of the huge cost, even though I had good insurance. It didn’t seem right to have so much money spent on me when the vast majority of the world’s people could never afford such a procedure. I had the same hesitation about my heart transplant in 2003.
Now I am at the point where nothing can be done for my otherwise terminal condition except a second transplant. When I was first offered this possibility I said “Thanks but no thanks.” Then, after family discussion and prayer, I said, “Yes.” A while later I said “No” again, and for the past few years my family and I have settled comfortably on this final decision. It is not primarily the financial factor holding me back, although my sense of justice is still shocked, and even repulsed, by the anticipated cost of the surgery—a second time. I am not receiving another heart because I believe, with good reason, that the level of suffering of the past seven years since my transplant will be no different after the surgery than before. Since my post-transplant experience has been more “mysterious” (my nurse’s words just a few weeks ago) than that of others, my suffering could very well be worse.
I am also concerned about the issue of playing God. With medical care, everything possible is not mandatory. Doctors (whom I admire and appreciate) are trained in such a way that they are extremely reluctant to say that nothing more can be done for a patient. On January 3 I was on the table in the heart catheterization lab, with the IV and other measuring devices hooked up to me, and with the angiogram tubes in me. My coronary artery blockages were so severe that the cardiologist wanted to try an experimental and risky procedure in one of the arteries. I said “no” and he became quite agitated at me. He ended the angiogram right there, omitting the other half of my heart, since I did not consent to what would have been the start of numerous such procedures. After I was wheeled back to my hospital room, another cardiologist told me that the procedures in question, if done, would not have lengthened my life or prevented heart attacks. They might have helped for a time with my labored breathing and nausea, two of my daily difficulties, but such an outcome would not have been certain.
I feel good about this recent decision, especially since my wife, Judy, and I had prayed about this very issue according to James 1:5-8 just moments before the nurse came to take me to the cath lab. I feel good as well about the decision to refuse a second transplant.
Decision-making in matters of medical care is not always easy. My situation is just one of a multitude of possible scenarios. Other people might have made different decisions, and I fully admit and respect the possibility that two or more choices in a given situation may be admissible. My view—about the overall issue of playing God, as well as my personal condition—is not infallible. I believe God is pleased with my decision, but I admit that he may have been just as pleased if I had chosen differently at different points on my journey.
At some time or another in life, most or all of us will need to think about playing God, either by shortening or by extending human life by certain technologies, when the wiser choice would seem to others to leave the situation with God who does all things well. Palliative care, such as pain relief, is mandatory, of course.
In many cases, in my view, the actual decision is not as important as the attitude and state of mind of the one or ones making the decision, especially if the decision-makers claim to belong to and believe their God and Father. Am I trusting God for wisdom according to James 1, since he knows that I am weak and unable to calculate the risks and benefits with precision? Yes, we must make tough decisions at times—for our own care and that of others, and if we do so with an attitude of composure and rest in God’s arms, our decisions will be acceptable in God’s eyes.
http://bobrakestraw.com
When people suffer severely they sometimes try to play God or have someone else play God for them. The term “playing God” is usually not mentioned in discussions between the suffering person and his/her family, friends and medical care team. It is, however, an underlying component—often unrecognized—in the swirl of conflicting ideas and emotions. Whenever the expression is mentioned it is done so as a negative thing.
People may or may not be thought of as playing God depending on the decisions they make about human life, especially concerning the beginning and ending of life, but throughout one’s lifetime as well. Abortion, infanticide, physician-assisted suicide and euthanasia are all looked upon as playing God by right-to-life Christians, with whom I seriously and gladly identify. In the cases just mentioned, people are taking into their own hands the right to end their life or someone else’s life, even though such a right belongs to God alone. Right-to-life Christians feel strongly that nothing should be done to deliberately end another’s life (although they often make exceptions in cases of warfare and capital punishment). To intend to shorten life is to play God.
There is another way we may play God, however, and that is by trying to extend life. This can happen when the suffering person is in such a condition that it is evident to those prayerfully concerned for him or her, and those offering medical care, that the patient’s life is nearly over, and that technology (whether in use or about to be attached) is, in reality, prolonging death (and possibly suffering) rather than advancing life.
As you realize, I have bitten off a big chunk of material in the paragraphs above. Please forgive me for not addressing every nuance (and there are many) that is tied to the concepts and words above. These issues are highly controversial. I hesitated about writing on them but felt that God wanted me to make a point—not primarily about playing God but about believing God.
Many of you, dear readers, know that I have struggled for twenty-five years with heart problems. I had open-heart surgery in 1991 and a heart transplant in 2003. Because my health continued to be poor after the transplant, I reluctantly retired from teaching at Bethel Seminary in 2005. In the seven years since my transplant I have had numerous bouts of acute rejection, frequent invasive medical procedures, tests, consultations, trips to the emergency room, and hospital stays. I am now in a condition called permanent (chronic) transplant vasculopathy, and in March, 2007, two doctors told me I likely had no more than six months to live. Well, God keeps me going, and he gives me peace.
This leads to the interaction of playing God and believing God. At what point might our inclination to play God conflict with our intention to trust God (I am using “trust” and “believe” interchangeably)? In some crises of life, it is not always clear-cut that a decision is playing God. A teenage boy rushed to the hospital after a serious motorcycle crash may lead to a critical choice concerning high-risk brain surgery. The surgery may take the boy’s life or leave him as a vegetable, or it may help him return to normal life.
Some family members—strong believers—want the surgery, because they think it may be playing God to withhold a chance at recovery. Whatever is possible should be done, they believe. Other family members—equally strong believers—think it may be playing God to request the surgery and that the family should, given the surgical risk to their loved one’s life, entrust him to God’s care, believing that God does all things well. Whatever can be done does not always need to be done, they believe.
Where do we draw the line between playing God and trusting God? Who decides what is the one or the other? Who is the more faithful servant of God, the family member who authorizes the surgery, or the one who chooses to withhold it (and possibly withhold other means of life support)?
My own story is not that of the teenager. His case involves an urgent, immediate decision. I have grappled much, however, with bioethical decisions over the course of my illness. I hesitated to have my mitral valve surgery in 1991 because of the huge cost, even though I had good insurance. It didn’t seem right to have so much money spent on me when the vast majority of the world’s people could never afford such a procedure. I had the same hesitation about my heart transplant in 2003.
Now I am at the point where nothing can be done for my otherwise terminal condition except a second transplant. When I was first offered this possibility I said “Thanks but no thanks.” Then, after family discussion and prayer, I said, “Yes.” A while later I said “No” again, and for the past few years my family and I have settled comfortably on this final decision. It is not primarily the financial factor holding me back, although my sense of justice is still shocked, and even repulsed, by the anticipated cost of the surgery—a second time. I am not receiving another heart because I believe, with good reason, that the level of suffering of the past seven years since my transplant will be no different after the surgery than before. Since my post-transplant experience has been more “mysterious” (my nurse’s words just a few weeks ago) than that of others, my suffering could very well be worse.
I am also concerned about the issue of playing God. With medical care, everything possible is not mandatory. Doctors (whom I admire and appreciate) are trained in such a way that they are extremely reluctant to say that nothing more can be done for a patient. On January 3 I was on the table in the heart catheterization lab, with the IV and other measuring devices hooked up to me, and with the angiogram tubes in me. My coronary artery blockages were so severe that the cardiologist wanted to try an experimental and risky procedure in one of the arteries. I said “no” and he became quite agitated at me. He ended the angiogram right there, omitting the other half of my heart, since I did not consent to what would have been the start of numerous such procedures. After I was wheeled back to my hospital room, another cardiologist told me that the procedures in question, if done, would not have lengthened my life or prevented heart attacks. They might have helped for a time with my labored breathing and nausea, two of my daily difficulties, but such an outcome would not have been certain.
I feel good about this recent decision, especially since my wife, Judy, and I had prayed about this very issue according to James 1:5-8 just moments before the nurse came to take me to the cath lab. I feel good as well about the decision to refuse a second transplant.
Decision-making in matters of medical care is not always easy. My situation is just one of a multitude of possible scenarios. Other people might have made different decisions, and I fully admit and respect the possibility that two or more choices in a given situation may be admissible. My view—about the overall issue of playing God, as well as my personal condition—is not infallible. I believe God is pleased with my decision, but I admit that he may have been just as pleased if I had chosen differently at different points on my journey.
At some time or another in life, most or all of us will need to think about playing God, either by shortening or by extending human life by certain technologies, when the wiser choice would seem to others to leave the situation with God who does all things well. Palliative care, such as pain relief, is mandatory, of course.
In many cases, in my view, the actual decision is not as important as the attitude and state of mind of the one or ones making the decision, especially if the decision-makers claim to belong to and believe their God and Father. Am I trusting God for wisdom according to James 1, since he knows that I am weak and unable to calculate the risks and benefits with precision? Yes, we must make tough decisions at times—for our own care and that of others, and if we do so with an attitude of composure and rest in God’s arms, our decisions will be acceptable in God’s eyes.
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