No, this is the kind of fasting I want: Free those who are wrongly imprisoned; lighten the burden of those who work for you. Let the oppressed go free, and remove the chains that bind people. Share your food with the hungry, and give shelter to the homeless. Give clothes to those who need them, and do not hide from relatives who need your help. [Isaiah 58:6-7 (NLT)]
As I continued my Lenten fasting, Saturday’s fast was criticism. “A piece of cake,” I thought as I began the day. While criticism can be constructive, it usually is little more than complaint and, as it turned out, I’d blown it by 10:00 AM. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the last time I caught myself being critical. Even though Sundays during Lent are a day free of fasting, I tried going without criticism again Sunday morning. Surely a day without any critical judgment shouldn’t be that hard! I hate to admit, I botched it by 8:00 while watching the news! Granted, I’d already made three hours without complaint but that wasn’t my last criticism of the day. Not every comment was verbalized but whether I said it to myself or to someone else, criticism still is criticism. I continued fasting from criticism yesterday and this fast may turn out to be a year’s work!
Another day’s fast was discontentment—the feeling of not-enough—the feeling that keeps us from being grateful for all that we do have. Like some of my other fasts, I thought this one would be a breeze until I received an on-line ad for a sale at one of my favorite stores. In spite of an over-full closet, I felt discontent creep into my heart as I scrolled through pages of beautiful clothes. I know I have more than enough and yet I still wanted something more! There’s another one to work on for the rest of the year!
Yesterday’s assignment was to fast “God-as-job.” Just because we don’t receive a paycheck to serve the Lord doesn’t mean we can’t slip into thinking of our service as a job rather than a calling or thinking of our prayer and Bible study as a task or duty rather than a blessing. Our relationship with God is no more a job that the relationship we have with our loved ones. Nevertheless, when concentrating on doing for Him, we easily forget about being with Him and, when working for Him, we often stop hearing Him. When God is a job, we’re present in body but absent in spirit.
These weeks preparing for Resurrection Sunday brought me a growing awareness of my spiritual weaknesses. Rather than giving up something I enjoy like chocolate, alcohol, or TV, this fast was about revealing the kinds of things that restrain or control me. Moreover, there were hidden blessings in each sacrifice I made. These last several weeks have been a time of decluttering my mind, sweeping the dust bunnies from my soul, and regaining balance. Of course, I remain a work in progress but, like the author of Hebrews, I’m trying to rid myself of the things that weigh me down.
Lent is a time of going very deeply into ourselves… What is it that stands between us and God? Between us and our brothers and sisters? Between us and life, the life of the Spirit? Whatever it is, let us relentlessly tear it out, without a moment’s hesitation.” [Catherine Doherty]
Throughout His ministry, it seems that Jesus knew that the cross awaited Him but we don’t know if the human part of Him knew the exact details. Even so, it’s one thing to know what lays in the future but quite another to know it is about to begin within a matter of minutes. That night in Gethsemane, God showed Jesus the cup from which He would drink and He showed it in gruesome detail. Jesus viewed the betrayal, abandonment, sham trials, mocking, beating, flogging, and suffering torture on the cross along with the jeers of the crowd and the heartbreak and tears of His mother and the other women at the foot of the cross. Had Jesus not known exactly what the next 24-hours held, He would have been no different than the lambs brought to the Temple for sacrifice. They weren’t there of their own volition and had no knowledge of what would happen to them when presented to the priest. Rather than willing sacrifices, they were victims! The Lamb of God, however, needed to know the extraordinary cup—the horrible ordeal—that lay before him because, rather than a victim, He was a willing volunteer! His anguished prayers that night, however, tell us He didn’t look forward to it.
We don’t know how far Philip and the Ethiopian traveled together before the eunuch spotted water. The book of Isaiah is 66 chapters long and there was a lot to cover as Philip told him about the man called Jesus, so it may have been as far as Gaza. It is there that the road split—north to Caesarea and south to Egypt and Ethiopia. While we don’t know the location, we just know that the Ethiopian was baptized when they came to water.
Once day, the Holy Spirit told Philip to go south and then down the desert road between Jerusalem and Gaza. Although Scripture leads us to assume that Philip’s fortuitous encounter with the Ethiopian eunuch quickly followed, a look at the map tells us otherwise. At the time, Philip was in Samaria and, before he could walk the road from Jerusalem to Gaza, he had a 42-mile uphill trek south to Jerusalem before turning southwest onto the 50-mile stretch of road leading to Gaza, the southernmost of the five chief Philistine cities in southwest Palestine and the last settlement before the desert waste stretching away to Egypt. The trip to Jerusalem probably took at least two days and we don’t know how far down the Gaza Road he walked before the Apostle discovered his God-ordained task and met the treasurer of Ethiopia. In actuality, Philip was on this mission for several days before he knew why he’d been sent.
By the time of Isaiah, the Neo-Assyrian empire was the largest one the world had known. Famed for their incredible military strength, tactics, and ruthlessness, the Assyrians were a thorn in the side of both Israel and Judah and both kingdoms lived in fear of them. Assyria’s defeat of Samaria in 722 meant the end of the northern kingdom of Israel and Assyria remained a threat to Judah in the years that followed.
Today, when someone is called the “salt of the earth,” the speaker probably means he or she is a dependable, unpretentious and honest person—someone of moral integrity. That is well and good as far as it goes, but Jesus meant more than that when He called us to be “the salt of the earth.”