Expecting God To Repeat Himself

I like patterns.  It's my way of making sense of the chaos that is life.  There is the simple understanding of cause and effect, inductive reasoning that makes life smoother, such as knowing that if my children go to bed after 8 pm, there will be an afternoon meltdown the next day or that if I skip a single day of my daughter reading to me, the day after will be like pulling teeth with her sounding out words she flew through the day before.

Then, there are those patterns that require more observation, a stepping back and seeing the whole picture, mysteries that can leave me scratching my head for months until I finally crack the code. 

When attempting to understand the Word of God, I've learned how much can be understood simply by looking for patterns, which can only be accomplished fully by knowing the whole story.  Sometimes, that involves tracking a word's usage throughout the pages of the entire Old Testament, looking at historical context, taking the original audience's understanding into consideration, or simply looking at other parts of the specific book of the Bible. 

It's all part of allowing Scripture to interpret Scripture.

Yet, too often, when I read a passage that reminds me of another similar passage I've read before, I make the mistake of automatically reading it with the same interpretation in mind.  While God often repeats Himself, sometimes, He also often does the unexpected, reminding us that even when we're at the top of our game, God is still a mystery at His core.

The prophet Elijah learned this lesson when running from Jezebel.  At the lowest point in his career, the Lord told him, "Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by" (1 Kin. 19:11).

Scripture records, "Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave" (1 Kings 19:11-13).

Most Sunday School children know this part of the story.  God was not in the wind.  He was not in the earthquake.  He was not in the fire.  God was merely in a still, small voice.

Elijah would have known Israel's history quite well, a history in which the children of Israel had seen God in the wind, in the earthquake, and in fire.  In fact, a simple glimpse at the Israelites' escape from Egypt showed God in all three.

When the Israelites were trapped at the edge of the Red Sea, Pharaoh's army nipping at their heels, God was in the wind that held back the waters so an entire nation could cross on dry land: "Then Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and all that night the Lord drove the sea back with a strong east wind and turned it into dry land. The waters were divided, and the Israelites went through the sea on dry ground, with a wall of water on their right and on their left" (Ex. 14:21-22).  

As they wandered into the desert and camped at the base of Mt. Sinai, the children of Israel beheld God in both earthquake and fire: "Mount Sinai was covered with smoke, because the Lord descended on it in fire. The smoke billowed up from it like smoke from a furnace, and the whole mountain trembled violently" (Ex. 19:18).  That fire would go on to light up every night sky as they wandered in the desert for forty years until crossing the Jordan River into the Promised Land, a trek that all started with God appearing to Moses within a bush aflame.  And then, later, as Solomon dedicated the temple, fire would fall from heaven once more to light up the altar of sacrifice.

There was Biblical precedence for God being in all of the above.  What's more, Elijah, himself, had witnessed God in the wind and fire quite recently as he defeated the prophets of Baal atop Mt. Carmel (Ex. 18:38,45).

Yes, Elijah heard the wind and probably expected it to be the Lord.  He felt the earthquake and thought, surely this is the Lord.  And when the fire blazed, he must have expected this to be the Lord.

Yet, the Lord did not do the expected.

He came as He had never come before--in a still, small voice.  He came not in a display of power but in gentleness.

What's interesting is that Elijah, this man who loved and followed God with his whole heart--Elijah did not come out to meet God in the expected.  He waited and knew this was not the Lord.  Yet, He knew the Lord in this small voice even though there was not really precedence for the Lord appearing in such a manner.  Somehow, Elijah knew the Lord.

Pastor R. T. Kendall says, "When God repeats Himself it is easier to accept Him.  We love the familiar...The thing is, when something is repeated that was previously clearly the Lord's manifestation, most people assume hastily and uncritically, 'This is God showing up again.'...Jonathan Edwards taught us that the task of every generation is to discover the direction in which the Sovereign Redeemer is moving, then move in that direction.  It is easy to look for what has happened before" (Kendall 144).

Consider this statement and Elijah's experience in light of our Savior.  When Jesus came to earth in the wrappings of flesh, He did not come in the power of the wind, the earthquake, or fire.  He came in the gentleness of a sacrificial lamb.  Because of that, many missed His coming, for they were looking for God to appear in strength and power and refused to reevaluate their understanding of God and Scripture.

From these passages, we can take away two things. 

First, we must be cautious of boxing God in, expecting for Him to work or speak in always the same way He has done before.  God can and does do the unexpected. 

Secondly, we can be comforted.  Those who truly seek the Lord as did Elijah will know Him, even when He shows up in the most unexpected of ways. 

God's Annual Camp-out (Part 2)

Last week, we looked at the Feast of Tabernacles as being focused on God and man dwelling together, about man symbolically leaving the security of his man-made walls and living outdoors in flimsy "booths" where he must rely fully on God for protection.

At this festival, all Israel is called upon to remember a time when all their descendants lived in booths: "so that your generations may know that I had the sons of Israel live in booths when I brought them out from the land of Egypt" (Lev. 23:43).

In Jesus' day, two specific ceremonies would have been part of the Feast of Tabernacles, both of which served to remind God's children of that time in the desert where His holy presence was physically evident at all times--by day in a pillar of cloud and by night in a pillar of fire.

The first ceremony involved water, a reminder of the water-filled cloud of God's presence during the daytime:1

Imagine a whole parade of worshipers and flutists led by the priest to the pool of Siloam (where Jesus told the blind man to bathe his eyes after He put clay over them). The priest has two golden pitchers. One is for wine. He fills the other with water from the pool. As the flutes continue to play, a choir of Israelites chants Psalm 118. The whole procession heads back to the Temple through the Water Gate. A trumpet sounds as the priest enters the Temple area. He approaches the altar where two silver basins are waiting. He pours wine into one of the basins as a drink offering to the Lord and water from the pool of Siloam into the other. The whole ceremony, with the parade and the flutes and the singing, was such a joyful occasion that one of the ancient rabbis wrote: "Anyone who has not seen this water ceremony has never seen rejoicing in his life." The ceremony was to thank God for His bounty and to ask Him to provide rain for the crops in the coming year."2

The second ceremony involved fire, a great light, reminiscent of the pillar of fire the Israelites would have seen as they broke for camp in their booths each evening.

On the evening of the first day of the Feast, four 75-foot tall menorahs would be lit in the Temple's Court of the Women and would burn for the duration of the feast.  With the Temple resting high upon a hill above the city of Jerusalem, this was truly a brilliant light placed where all to see.  There was no missing it.

Surely, at least some of Jesus' disciples saw the light of these menorahs illuminating the impenetrable darkness only found in a pre-electricity world and remembered His words in Matthew, exhorting His disciples: "You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven" (Matt. 5:14-16).

This Feast, like all the others, draws all of Israel to remember God's faithfulness while also looking toward Christ as the fulfillment as all parts of the Feast.  

In John 7, Scripture records Jesus actually attending the Feast of Tabernacles.  Yet, only at the end of the festival does he reveal Himself in both of these ceremonies.  John says, "On the last and greatest day of the festival, Jesus stood and said in a loud voice, “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as Scripture has said, rivers of living water will flow from within them" (Jn. 7:37).

Without knowing about the water ceremony, Jesus' statement seems to come out of nowhere.  But knowing of the tradition of giving thanks to God for life-giving water, Jesus' claim to give this sustaining water suddenly makes perfect sense.  Here, He promised the Holy Spirit for believers.  He expressed His divinity to an audience, some of whom understood His true meaning that He was Messiah.

After this revelation, Scripture records Jesus going to the Mount of Olives.  The next morning after the Feast's conclusion, Jesus re-entered the Temple: "At dawn he appeared again in the temple courts, where all the people gathered around him" (Jn. 8:2).  

Imagine the scene: after seven days, the immense light from these 75 foot menorahs would suddenly be gone.  How dark it must have seemed to those who had lived in the shadow of its illumination.  Then, in the midst of this darkness, in the same location where those candles would have been shining mere hours before, Jesus speaks to this second ceremony of lights: "When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, 'I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life'" (Jn. 8:12).

Here, Jesus reveals Himself to be the light that never is extinguished.   He is the true light set upon a hill, the Messiah they had so long waited for...if only their eyes could have been opened to see that light in the midst of their spiritual darkness.

 Today, we are blessed to live this side of the cross.  Two thousand years later, Jesus is still the living water that will never run dry.  He remains the light of the world.  These gifts of His presence--water and light--the same ones God offered to the Israelites...He offers the same to you and to me through His Son Jesus, if we will only believe with our whole heart, soul, and mind.




1.  Nadler, Sam. Feasts of the Bible. "Feast of Tabernacles."  Video. Torrance: Rose P, 2011.
2.  *"Christ in the Feast of Tabernacles" by Jews for Jesus. 
Image: "Light Upon a Hill" by awesome photographer D. M. Weber

Other Articles in this Jewish Feasts Series:
A Doorway But No Roof: God's Annual Camp-out
When The Books Are Closed: A Look at Yom Kippur
A One Hundred Trumpet Blast Wake-Up Call
Positioning Passover Pronouns
Preparation Day: 'Go to Church' or Worship
Reorienting Our Lives: 50 Days From the Cross
Understanding the Jewish-ness of Jesus
The Truth About Passover

The Ties that Bind: A Heritage of Fire

My father has always been the one interested in our family's heritage.  More than once in my childhood, I would walk past the dining room to find half the table littered with multi-branched charts taped together, tea-stained pictures of some distant stoic-faced relative, and stacks of photocopies.  Some were of pages in library books, detailed letters from one relative to another, or accounting ledgers.

Most all the interesting pieces were filled with cramped, painfully-consistent cursive handwriting, almost illegible and just like my Great Grandma Maggie's. 

All of it was my heritage.

Biologically, I can trace my lineage across the oceans to a time before America's formation as a country.

But what about my lineage as a Christian?  That's much harder.

Granted, my own salvation is a direct result of my parent's training me up in the Lord as is their salvation.  From there, though, moving backwards is a bit more difficult, especially since faith isn't always passed down biologically.  Often, one's faith is a direct result of someone of a different bloodline sharing the gospel.

While I can't fill in the gaps in-between, I do believe Scripture provides Gentile Christians like myself with the starting point, the "Adam and Eve," if you will, of the indwelling Holy Spirit, the consuming fire that burns within each Christian.

Consider both the tabernacle and temple in the Old Testament.

When God first deigned to dwell below with His people in the desert, He gave Moses plans to build the tabernacle.  Then, when this temporary dwelling place was completed, He filled the tabernacle with His presence in two ways: by cloud and fire: "Then the cloud covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the Lord filled the tabernacle...the cloud of the Lord was on the tabernacle by day, and there was fire in it by night, in the sight of all the house of Israel" (Ex. 40:34, 38).

The fire from heaven was not merely a symbol.  It was the only fire permitted to light the lamp stand of God's presence within the Holy place as well as to light the altars of sacrifice wherein people could gain atonement for their sin.  Any other fire on the altars would be considered "strange fire" presented to the Lord, an act punishable by death (Lev. 10:1-2).  

When the priesthood of Aaron first offered burnt offerings to the Lord at the newly completed tabernacle, God sent the needed fire from heaven: "Then fire came out from before the LORD and consumed the burnt offering and the portions of fat on the altar; and when all the people saw it, they shouted and fell on their faces" (Lev. 9:24).  Once God lit the fire, making a way for man to find atonement, it was supposed to be permanent: "Fire shall be kept burning continually on the altar; it is not to go out"(Lev. 6:13).

Later, when King Solomon built a permanent dwelling for God, His presence came down in the same manner: "Now when Solomon had finished praying, fire came down from heaven and consumed the burnt offering and the sacrifices, and the glory of the Lord filled the house.  The priests could not enter into the house of the Lord because the glory of the Lord filled the Lord’s house" (2 Chron. 7:1-2).

But then, Israel fell into sin.  The fire on the altar was allowed to go out, the temple was ransacked, and God's people were carted away in the chains of slavery.  When the lamp of God's presence flickered its last, there was no longer any potential for atonement for one's sin.

That's when the Father sent His only Son, Jesus, to be God with Us, the ultimate sacrifice, once and for all.

When Christ left, He left His followers with God's comforting presence in the form of the Holy Spirit to light the temple lamp of as many who would come to Him.  This is why Jesus told His followers: "You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden; nor does anyone light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house" (Matt. 5:14-15).  This is why Paul told Christians, "Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God, and that you are not your own?" (1 Cor. 6:19).  

When God's Presence came down to fill His earthly temples one last time with the Holy Spirit, it was, again, with fire: "And there appeared to them tongues as of fire distributing themselves, and they rested on each one of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit" (Acts 2:3-4).

Fire filled the temple of God for the third time in recorded Scripture, only this time, the temple was made of flesh and blood.  This time, the lamp lighted with God's presence was you and me.

Just imagine--when the Holy Spirit fell in tongues of fire on those first Christians, he was lighting the first lamps that would stay lit until today.

If you are a Christian, your heritage goes all the way back to that upper room when the Holy Spirit fell on the very first believers in Christ, lighting the lampstand of the new temples of flesh. 

It is an awesome thought.

It's also an awesome responsibility.

Just as the priesthood of Aaron wasn't supposed to let God's fire go out, we Christians today are also charged with keeping our lamps trimmed and mounted high on a stand for all the world to see God's Presence within our temple.

To God be the glory!

God Doesn't Wear Camouflage

Many of us remember spending the six years of junior high and high school just trying to blend in, to be invisible.  More than anything, young people want to be like everyone else.  They want to be liked, accepted, to simply not feel so socially awkward in an environment where standing out for the wrong reasons is the equivalent of painting Target's bright red logo on your back.

Yet, for me, even in a small school, or maybe especially in a small school, invisibility was an impossible goal.

No matter how I tried to camouflage myself, I was always easily identifiable as the smart one--not pretty or popular or athletic.  Just smart.

One day, I learned I was also easily identifiable as something else--a follower of Christ.  Although my teenager self was never bold enough to openly proclaim my faith, it wasn't something I intentionally hid either.  It simply was.

Still, my mouth gaped and my tongue grew thick when one day standing outside in the lunch line, a tall, popular girl turned around and snarled, "You're one of those Jesus freaks, aren't you?"

Her bluntness made me fumble, quite uneloquently, for a proper response. This was my chance to take a stand.  What should I say? What reply would keep me under the radar of persecution yet not be like Peter at the cock's crowing?

"I believe in Jesus if that's what you mean, so, yeah, I guess I am."  

I paused, my face engulfed in flames. She didn't respond, just looked down at me, coolly and without interest, then turned back around to her circle, which promptly began to snicker and giggle at my awkwardness.

It's been almost twenty years since those awkward days, but the pressure to fit in never gets any easier.  With Christianity constantly being labelled as a judgmental, homophobic, bigoted religion, the political correctness police only intensifies this pressure to hide one's faith.

But our God doesn't wear camouflage.

Our God is one who intentionally chooses to not blend in.  Throughout both the Old and New Testaments, He stands out from the crowd.

Our God is one who appeared unmistakable on the monochrome rocky hillside of Mount Horeb as "flames of fire from within a bush" (Ex. 3:2).  He led the Israelites across the brown, barren desert in the most obvious way possible: "The Lord was going before them in a pillar of cloud by day to lead them on the way, and in a pillar of fire by night to give them light, that they might travel by day and by night" (Ex. 12:21).  


Our God is one who sent His Son, Jesus Christ, to stand out like a sore thumb among us: "Jesus was going throughout all Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the gospel of the kingdom...The news about Him spread throughout all Syria...Large crowds followed Him from Gaililee and the Decapolis and Jerusalem and Judea and from beyond the Jordan" (Matt. 4:23-25). 

Our God is also one who sent His Spirit to dwell within believers in a very spectacular way: at Pentecost, "they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit was giving them utterance...the crowd came together, and were bewildered because each one of them was hearing them speak in his own language" (Acts 2:4-6).

God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Spirit--all parts of the trinity make their presence obvious, easy to see in a lost and dying world.

Likewise, Scripture cautions us believers to not blend in, to follow the example of the Godhead.

Jesus told His disciples, "You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden; nor does anyone light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. 'Let your light shine before men in such a way that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father who is in heaven'" (Matt. 5:14-16).

We are to let the Spirit shine forth from within us so everyone can see God's light even if they're across the room.

Wearing the safe cloak of camouflage may save us from persecution and from losing our jobs.

But sporting politically correct purples and all-is-acceptable aquas won't save the souls around us, those that are looking for the light whether they realize it or not.

Wear burning bush orange and blood-stained crimson instead.


Images: Euonymus, Burning Bush shrub.