​I’ve been working through the series of Westerns by Louis L’amour, which are fast reads with simple plots and stories that are pretty much the same for every L’amour book. But about a dozen books in, I got stopped hard by this amazing quote, where the story’s protagonist says: “It is always easier to travel than to stop. As long as one travels toward a promised land, the dream is there, to stop means to face the reality, and it is easier to dream than to realize the dream” (L’amour, The Ferguson Rifle, p. 19).
 
I thought, man, that’s quite profound! Because the danger that L’amour points to is one that we in the ISI ministry also face with our God-given vision of “expanding the tent” (Isaiah 54:2-3). We’re working toward the fulfilment of His vision. We don’t know how long it will take us—only God knows—and some of us, including myself, may not even be around to see its completion, if ever. But there’s the very real danger of us chasing the vision but never stopping to face and deal with reality—because reality can be brutal and harsh. We find ourselves marching around walls that refuse to crumble, we face difficulty achieving unity of focus and purpose in our ministry teams, we’re disappointed with students and returnees who’d been doing so well in their spiritual walks only to drop out or turn away from Christ, we struggle with health and financial challenges that slow us down or stop us altogether. Reality can sometimes suck!
 
Our response to such situations could either be to call it quits—it was a nice ride while it lasted, but enough is enough, the trouble just isn’t worth it—or we may end up as L’amour describes it, where the dream remains a distant ideal that we keep heading toward but whose realization we keep deferring because we’re afraid of what we may encounter were we to stop.
 
The Bible has a very different perspective. In Psalm 84, we read: “Blessed are those whose strength is in you, whose hearts are set on pilgrimage. As they pass through the Valley of Baka, they make it a place of springs; the autumn rains also cover it with pools. They go from strength to strength, till each appears before God in Zion” (vs 5-7). Unlike L’amour’s protagonist who doesn’t pause long enough, who doesn’t stop because he cannot abide reality, God’s pilgrims who journey toward Zion actually bother to stop, not only to smell the roses but to take in the aroma of decay and death, of the hard/harsh realities of where their pilgrimage/journey may have led them: to the Valleys of Baka, perhaps even to the valley of the shadow of death (Psalm 23:4).
 
Well, the truth is sometimes we’d much prefer to avoid such tough places and times, but God drags us kicking and screaming into those situations! As Christ’s pilgrims, we stop not to gawk like tourists, but to see the situation for what it is, that we may impart blessing: We roll up our sleeves and get dirty, helping and ministering and serving with what God has given us. We turn those dead and arid places, full of dry bones, into places of springs! We bring the life of Christ where there was only death!
 
The temptation is to be like the priest and the Levite who walked on the other side of the road to avoid the injured man in Luke 10; they didn’t wish to be inconvenienced—and get this, they justified their inaction using biblical principles! But the true pilgrim is the Samaritan who stopped to care for the injured man and tended to his wounds. And when we endeavor to do God’s will, He takes our meager offering, our 2 loaves and 5 fish, and He multiplies them; as Psalm 84:6 puts it, God supplies the autumn rains in addition to our efforts to bless.
 
What’s my point here? Simply this: as we in ISI continue to implement God’s Isaiah 54 vision, the real emphasis is what and how are we doing, along the way, as our journey takes us past numerous Valleys of Baka. Do we stop to bless, or do we roll on like a runaway freight train, refusing to pause even as we see needs crying to be met all around us? As for our endpoint, we’ll get there when we get there—or more accurately, when God thinks it’s time and we’re ready. And as Psalm 84:7 says, as we tend to the needs we find along the way instead of avoiding them like the priest and the Levite and L’amour’s protagonist, God will lead us from strength to strength till we appear before Him in Zion. That’s His promise to you and me!

​“When the Philistines heard that David had been anointed king over Israel, they went up in full force to search for him, but David heard about it and went down to the stronghold. Now the Philistines had come and spread out in the Valley of Rephaim; so David inquired of the LORD, ‘Shall I go and attack the Philistines? Will you deliver them into my hands?’ The LORD answered him, ‘Go, for I will surely deliver the Philistines into your hands.’ So David went to Baal Perazim, and there he defeated them. He said, ‘As waters break out, the LORD has broken out against my enemies before me.’ So that place was called Baal Perazim…Once more the Philistines came up and spread out in the Valley of Rephaim; so David inquired of the LORD, and he answered, ‘Do not go straight up, but circle around behind them and attack them in front of the poplar trees. As soon as you hear the sound of marching in the tops of the poplar trees, move quickly, because that will mean the LORD has gone out in front of you to strike the Philistine army.’ So David did as the LORD commanded him, and he struck down the Philistines all the way from Gibeon to Gezer” (2 Samuel 5:17-25).
 
David finally became king over all Israel, he conquered Jerusalem and made it his capital (“the City of David”), and he defeated the Philistines—not just once but on 2 separate occasions. The first time was at a place called Baal Perazim which is in or near the Valley of Rephaim, where, on God’s instructions, David and his men smashed the Philistines by way of a frontal assault (2 Samuel 5:19-20). We can safely assume that David undertook a frontal attack because, as we shall see, in the subsequent military engagement with the Philistines, God told David to tactically avoid “going straight up” (2 Samuel 5:23), which implies he did go straight up in the first engagement.
 
The second engagement against the Philistines also took place at the Valley of Rephaim, but this time, again on God’s instructions, David gained victory by way of a flanking maneuver rather than by frontal assault (2 Samuel 5:23-25). Same enemy, same battleground, but 2 quite different strategies. What’s the common thread here? 
 
David sought the Lord each time and received God’s game plan custom-tailored for each specific occasion. The temptation for us is to think: We’ve been here before, let’s rely on what worked for us previously and we’ll be fine. Or to conclude, this is too much, it isn’t worth the trouble, let’s just throw in the towel. But what is so impressive about David’s attitude and approach is that he did not take anything for granted! He certainly did not take God for granted! Two occasions, facing the same enemy the Philistines, on the same battlefield at the Valley of Rephaim. He’d already defeated the Philistines the first time, and we would not begrudge David—a seasoned military commander and a veteran campaigner—if he’d decided to take his foot off the gas pedal just for a bit. But no, he inquired after God, he waited on the Lord for direction, and he followed God’s instructions to the “T”. 
 
Likewise, let’s not be caught failing to inquire of the Lord and obeying His word, as we face another season full of trouble and uncertainty—but also a season full of promise and opportunity for us to see God move in powerful and miraculous ways!  

​“Then Jesus said to them, ‘Do not be afraid. Go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me’” (Matthew 28:10 NIV).
 
Galilee, at least according to the Gospel of Matthew, is where the disciples will see the risen Christ, and it is presumably the place—again, according to Matthew—where Jesus issued His Great Commission to the disciples (and, by extension, to you and me). For our purposes, Galilee, metaphorically speaking, is where we get our marching orders; it is the launchpad, the point of embarkation, for our participation in God’s great adventure of reaching the nations for Christ. 
 
And many Christians have seized their “Galilee moment” and ventured forth to do great things for God. There’s a bit of mention these days, a timely reminder, about “the Jesus Way”—not quite Charles Sheldon hypothetical “WWJD” (What Would Jesus Do), but what Jesus actually did and how He went about doing it, and, conceivably and where possible, copying or emulating Him.
 
And in that respect, it’s important, perhaps even fundamental, to note that before Galilee, there were 3 equally significant locations, all starting with the letter G, laid out in sequence: Gethsemane, Golgotha, and the Garden Tomb. Have we, in following and walking the Jesus Way, experienced our own Gethsemane, Golgotha, and the Garden Tomb—before arriving at our Galilee?
 
Gethsemane
 
Gethsemane was where Jesus surrendered His will to His Heavenly Father. It was where Jesus prayed, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will” (Matthew 26:39 NIV). Before we can even get to Galilee, before we go about fulfilling Jesus’ Great Commission, is your will, is my will, fully surrendered and submitted to that of the Heavenly Father? 
 
Golgotha
 
A fully surrendered will leads not to a crown but to a cross at Calvary, also known as Golgotha, the Place of Skulls. As the late Henri J.M. Nouwen once mused, “The way of the Christian leader is not the way of upward mobility in which our world has invested so much, but the way of downward mobility ending on the cross” (In the Name of Jesus: Reflections on Christian Leadership [Darton, Longman and Todd, 1989], p. 33). Many have offered themselves in sacrifice for the sake of Christ, but as we see here, there can be no Golgotha, properly speaking, before Gethsemane.
 
Surrender to Christ must necessarily come before Sacrifice for Christ. In 1 Samuel 15:22, the prophet Samuel told King Saul that God expects obedience rather than sacrifice. In two places in the Gospel of Matthew (9:13 and 12:7, respectively), Jesus quoted from Hosea 6:6: “For I desire mercy, not sacrifice, and acknowledgment of God rather than burnt offerings.” And in 1 Corinthians 13:3, the apostle Paul wrote that if he’d given his body to be burned but had no love, he would’ve gained nothing. No sacrificing of our lives in service and worship to God is complete without our wills being fully surrendered to God and expressing itself in obedience and love. 
 
Garden Tomb
 
But that’s not all. We cannot go from Golgotha directly to Galilee without encountering the Garden Tomb. The tomb is where Jesus was dead and buried for 3 days, after which the Spirit of God raised Him from the dead. If you and I don’t pause at our own Garden Tomb, it may mean that we’re not walking and ministering in and by the power of the Holy Spirit. We’d be doing God’s work in our own strength and our own capability and by our own devices. Only when we’ve killed and deep-sixed our carnal man/woman can our Spirit-filled man/woman arise. 
 
Walking the “G” Road
 
Is it possible to “go to Galilee” without first going through Gethsemane, Golgotha and the Garden Tomb? It is undoubtedly possible, but it wouldn’t be the Jesus Way. It would be tantamount to what Jesus once said about climbing over the wall to get into the sheep pen instead of entering by the gate (John 10:1).
 
But I’ve also found that God isn’t always a stickler for a particular sequence to which we have to be strictly adhere. In my experience, if I’d leapfrogged over the first 3Gs to get to Galilee, God would just make sure I “fulfill all righteousness” by checking all the other boxes at some point or another. Sometimes, He may even jumble the sequence—maybe Golgotha first and Gethsemane later—but He would make sure I get my ticket punched at all the “G’s”—over and over and over again. Truth be told, whether by choice or not, I find myself visiting all 4Gs on a daily basis. I think we all do. May the Lord give us grace—His merciful grace, the most important G(!)—at every stop we make.

*We stand in prayer with you for this country, its leaders, and all those affected by the recent violence.

​“Here is my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen one in whom I delight; I will put my Spirit on him, and he will bring justice to the nations. He will not shout or cry out, or raise his voice in the streets. A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out. In faithfulness he will bring forth justice; he will not falter or be discouraged till he establishes justice on earth” (Isaiah 42:1-4 NIV).
 
Today, when you and I read the above passage through the lens of the New Testament, we understand that the Servant referred to here by Isaiah is none other than Jesus, the Son of Man who did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many (Matthew 20:28). Indeed, we probably think, yes, it could only be Jesus the Messiah himself, because the assignment given this Servant of the Lord is no small potatoes, but BIG/HUGE: He is to bring justice to the nations (Isaiah 42:1b). He will establish justice on earth (Isaiah 42:3b). And he will not falter or give up until he completes his mission (Isaiah 42:4).
 
And get this: the way he does all of that is without calling attention to himself, or generating fanfare, or earning the most “likes” on Instagram. He is no self-serving, hubristic and narcissistic “I’m Da Man”-type celebrity. He’s not some Great Sage on a Grand Stage. Instead, he will not shout or cry out or raise his voice in public (Isaiah 42:2). Rather, he is humble and nondescript. He avoids the adulation of the crowds and prefers the anonymity of a night out in the hills talking with his Abba Father (Luke 6:12). His ministry is tender, merciful and compassionate toward the hurting and grieving, the downtrodden and the losers. He will not break bruised reeds nor snuff out smoldering wicks (Isaiah 42:3), for he came to save the lost and to heal the sick and to raise the dead.
 
In other words, he’s a true servant rather than a king—even though he’s the King of kings and the Lord of lords! How different is all that to the leaders we have today, including some Christian leaders—not just in America but the world over. Jesus told his disciples: “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave” (Matthew 20:25-27 NIV). And Jesus showed his disciples what godly servanthood was about by washing their feet (John 13:1-17).
 
To be able to do what he did—wash their feet—was a truly remarkable thing when you consider the fact that the foot-washing episode would be followed by a series of terrible events, with each succeeding event worse than the one before it: Judas will betray Jesus. Jesus predicts that Peter will disown him 3 times, which Peter does. Jesus will be arrested, tortured and crucified. And yet Jesus resolutely did what the Father called him to do. He stuck it out and persevered to the very end—even death on the cross. And he completed his assignment; as he says in John 4:34, “My food is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work.”
 
And so, we realize that Isaiah 42 isn’t just about Jesus; it’s equally about you and me as we follow in our Master’s footsteps: We too are called to bring justice to the nations. And we do so with God’s Spirit on us. We won’t seek the attention and praise of men. We minister to the lost tenderheartedly and compassionately—because our God is tender, merciful and compassionate. And we will not falter or lose heart all the way to the day where we will say: our good fight has been fought, our race is finally complete, our faith, kept. A missionary doctor from Singapore, Dr. Tan Lai Yong, once put it this way: “When God calls us to be servants, don’t stoop to be kings.” Wow and amen! 

A couple of weeks ago, an international cadet at the US Air Force Academy dropped by my home for dinner. (The second-highest ranking cadet at the Academy—no mean feat for a non-American student—this cadet is a natural leader whose Christian faith shines bright and clear among his fellow cadets.) Our meandering dinner chitchat landed on the response of John the Baptist to Jesus’s rising public prominence, ostensibly at John’s expense:
 
“No one can receive anything unless God gives it from heaven. You yourselves know how plainly I told you, ‘I am not the Messiah. I am only here to prepare the way for him.’  It is the bridegroom who marries the bride, and the bridegroom’s friend is simply glad to stand with him and hear his vows. Therefore, I am filled with joy at his success. He must become greater and greater, and I must become less and less” (John 3:27-30, NLT).
 
Jesus must increase and he, John, decrease. The friend of the bridegroom may enjoy the limelight for a while; Jesus would later refer to John as a lamp that burned and gave light, which the people got to enjoy (John 5:35). But John also knew to step back when the time came; he willingly receded into the background and resisted competing with Jesus for attention, for our God does not share His glory with another (Isaiah 42:8). John’s evident sense of his God-given assignment and of its proper conclusion, I think, is the only reason why John could truly say that his joy at hearing the bridegroom’s voice was not only full but, indeed, complete.
 
If John’s story had stopped there, it would have been the perfect ending! But as we know, John later harbored doubts and even sent his disciples to inquire of Jesus as to whether He was the Messiah (Matthew 11:2-3). Indeed, did John at all foresee that the “decrease” of which he spoke in John 3:30 would come to mean languishing in prison until being executed on a whim with his head delivered on a platter (Matthew 14:1-12)?
 
For some of God’s servants, the completion of their assigned ministry doesn’t necessarily end with them riding off peacefully into the sunset. John may have envisaged that his exit from public ministry involved retiring in obscurity to some backwoods in the Judean wilderness. Yet there was no such luxury for John. The obvious answer is this: John’s “decrease” wasn’t an end to his God-given ministry as such, but it was very much part of his calling! Putting it that way may sound odd, especially since nothing seemingly “positive” about it is mentioned in Scripture. There is no mention, for instance, that John’s fellow prisoners came to faith in Christ thanks to John’s witness (not that that could not have happened). Basically, there was nothing concrete to justify the abrupt and unceremonious end to John’s life on earth. It all just seems so unfair! Amazingly, it was also at this conceivably lowest point of John’s time that Jesus chose to praise him (Matthew 11:11).
 
With Easter just around the corner, Jesus’ ultimate sacrifice at Calvary for us all is foremost in my thoughts. The Son of God’s very purpose—as “a man of sorrows well acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3)—was to steadily work his way, in complete humility and unquestioned submission to His Father’s will, to a gruesome death by crucifixion atop a hill outside the city walls of Jerusalem. Indeed, as Oswald Chambers wrote in his celebrated devotional My Utmost for His Highest, “The Cross did not happen to Jesus: He came on purpose for it.”
 
I’ve been following the harrowing story of a Nigerian pastor and ISI returnee. Many members of his congregation were victims of the Christmas 2023 massacre caused by suspected Fulani Muslim militants. He and his family continue to endure death threats. Forced out of their homes and villages, he and his parishioners struggle daily to meet basic needs—food, clothing, and shelter.
 
This pastor and his congregants know a thing or two about the path of downward mobility ending on the cross. I don’t particularly like the idea of suffering…let alone actually going through with it! Yet God commends those who suffer for doing good and who endure it, because it is to this that we have been called by God—and there’s no better example here than the Lord Jesus Himself, who suffered for your sake and mine (1 Peter 2:20-21). The author of Hebrews adds that Jesus’ time on earth was marked by sorrow, pain, and tears as He offered up priestly prayers to God, but it was also through such suffering that Jesus learned trust and obedience and thereby fulfilled His destiny as the source of eternal salvation to all who believe in Him (Hebrews 5:7-10).
 
Friends, let us persevere on our way of downward mobility—not just any path, but the one Jesus took for our sakes. Let’s resolutely keep our eyes on Jesus, for in Him only there’s life to the full! ​

​As a child growing up in Singapore, I always loved it when my parents took my siblings and I on road trips to next door Malaysia. Singapore’s a tiny city-state so small, any road trip that doesn’t end in the ocean after driving 30 minutes in any direction—that’s a good deal! Maybe that’s why I love reading about Abraham and Sarah in the book of Genesis because their story is basically one long road trip that took them from their home in Mesopotamia to Canaan, and while in Canaan they moved from place to place. But what’s truly captivating about this couple was their lifelong devotion and obedience to God. In Genesis 12, God tells Abraham to leave his country and go to the land God will show him. And God promises to bless him and all the peoples on earth will be blessed through him. 
 
Fast forward to Genesis 17, where we encounter Abraham as a 99-year-old man. He has remained faithful and obedient to God for decades, but it is at this point where God’s greater purpose for His servant is fleshed out in the covenant God has established with Abraham. That said, Abraham wouldn’t exactly serve as a solid example of a successful “reproducer”—aka a consistently active disciple-maker, per ISI lingo—would he?
 
Think about it: in Genesis 13, Abraham’s first “disciple,” his nephew Lot, “disses” his uncle and aunt by choosing the prime land (the fertile plain of the Jordan) and leaving them with the inferior parts—which, in an honor/shame context, is inappropriate, since the land was promised by God to Abraham, not to Lot (Genesis 12:7). Worse, the community and people Lot was supposedly ministering to, Sodom, end up being destroyed by God (Genesis 19)! (Granted, in 2 Peter 2:7, Lot is described as a “righteous man” who was rescued by God, so it seems he turned out OK!) Or what about Abraham’s own son, Ishmael, who was forced out of his father’s home by a vengeful Sarah (Genesis 21)? Let’s just say, Abraham didn’t exactly possess a track record to boast about!
 
But there’s a good end to all this because it was also through Abraham and Sarah that God brought and raised up His child of promise, Isaac, whose birth was the result of the faithfulness of a promise-keeping God! And to what end was this child of promise meant to bring about?  That all the peoples on earth will be blessed through Abraham.
 
There are 3 things in Genesis 17 we ought to take note of that, I believe, are key to God’s covenant with Abraham. Firstly, there’s a Promise given by God to Abraham (and Sarah). Secondly, there’s a Part that Abraham had to play in response to God’s promise. Thirdly, there’s a Perspective, a Point of View, that Abraham had to adopt in his faith journey with God. And I want to suggest that Abraham’s encounter and experience with God in this regard can be—indeed, it needs to be—ours as well, because, as Paul writes in Galatians 3:29, “If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.”
 
Let’s begin with PROMISE. God tells Abraham in Genesis 17:4-6: “…this is my covenant with you: You will be the father of many nations. No longer will you be called Abram [‘exalted father’]; your name will be Abraham [‘father of nations’, ‘father of multitudes’], for I have made you a father of many nations. I will make you very fruitful; I will make nations of you, and kings will come from you.” A little way down in verse 15, God extends his covenant coverage to include Sarah, who will be the mother of nations and kings (Genesis 17:15-16).
 
Father and/or mother of many nations from which kings and leaders will come? Wow! Do we realize that this is as much our calling and mine as it was for Abraham and Sarah since we’re spiritual heirs of Abraham? Granted, unlike Abraham and Sarah, we do not literally birth nations into being, but in making disciples of all nations (as Jesus commands us in Matthew 28:19), we participate in the care and nurture of spiritual children, whether in our home countries or wherever God has led us to. In other words, do we see ourselves as father or mother of many nations?
 
I have the distinct privilege of working in ISI, where, for the past 70 years, colleagues past and present have invested and are investing in the lives of countless international students, the best and brightest of their nations, from all over the world. Many of them have led hundreds of students to Christ! They are not just fathers and mothers of many nations; they are grandparents and great-grandparents because their spiritual children have gone on to father and mother many spiritual children of their own.
 
Few of us, me included, are like ISI’s super missionaries! Come to think of it, Abraham and Sarah also did not directly evangelize and disciple hundreds, let alone thousands. But they faithfully bore and raised one disciple—their child Isaac—and it was through Isaac’s descendants that Abraham and Sarah got to be the father and mother of many nations. Who might your Isaac (or Isaacs) be, through whom God will bear much fruit for His sake and glory?
 
Secondly, God’s covenant with Abraham includes a PART which Abraham is expected to play in response to God’s Promise. We read in Genesis 17:9-11: “Then God said to Abraham, ‘As for you, you must keep my covenant, you and your descendants after you for the generations to come. This is my covenant with you and your descendants after you, the covenant you are to keep: Every male among you shall be circumcised. You are to undergo circumcision, and it will be the sign of the covenant between me and you.’” Circumcision of the flesh was to serve as the outward sign of the Abrahamic covenant.
 
Today, circumcision continues to be practiced by some communities, but it’s not a requirement within the Church. Instead, you and I are called to a circumcision of the heart. As early as Deuteronomy 30:6, we find this reasoning from Moses, “The LORD your God will circumcise your hearts and the hearts of your descendants, so that you may love him with all your heart and with all your soul, and live.” And in Romans 2:29, Paul makes this point, “a person is a Jew who is one inwardly; and circumcision is circumcision of the heart, by the Spirit, not by the written code. Such a person’s praise is not from other people, but from God.”
 
Just like it was for Abraham, you and I are called to confirm our part of our covenant with God through living a life worthy of the calling we’ve received (Ephesians 4:1), by offering our bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God as our true and proper worship (Romans 12:1). But like Abraham, we do this not to earn our way into Heaven—we would never succeed no matter how hard we tried—for our righteousness comes through believing God (Genesis 15:6). This is crucially important because there were Jews in Jesus’ time who called Abraham their father but practiced a superficial religiosity; they failed to recognize Jesus as the incarnate Son of God, and they did everything they could to have him killed (John 8:31-47). Their circumcision was of the outward flesh but not of the inner heart.
 
In Galatians 4:29, Paul, using Abraham’s sons Ishmael and Isaac as examples, distinguished between the son born of carnal flesh (Ishmael) and the son born by the power of the Holy Spirit (Isaac) and insisted that those who are in Christ are the children of promise, just like Isaac was (Galatians 4:28). Why is this point so critical? Because, friends, if we are called to be fathers and mothers of many nations, there’s a risk that the children we bear may not be Isaacs, but rather Ishmaels! We tend to reproduce after ourselves. If children are often chips of the old block, then those old blocks jolly well be true children of Abraham themselves, men and women who wholeheartedly follow Christ, rather than counterfeits who profess Christ only with their lips but not with their lives. It matters because we want our “kids”—those we disciple and support—to take after Christ!
 
Thirdly, a circumcised heart in response to God and His word extends and enlarges our PERSPECTIVE from a carnal or worldly one to a heavenly one.  It’s interesting how, right after God laid out the terms of the covenant to Abraham, Abraham’s first response—while face-down in worship—was to laugh and say to himself, “Will a son be born to a man a hundred years old? Will Sarah bear a child at the age of ninety?” (Genesis 17:17). And it’s with this doubt, based on worldly commonsense, that Abraham then says to God, “If only Ishmael might live under your blessing!” (Genesis 17:18).
 
Do we see what just happened here? Abraham, still very much the man of faith but one worn down and ground down by life, and knowing it is physically and humanly impossible for him and Sarah to bear children because of their advanced age, responds accordingly. Faced with a promise from God that seems too good to be true and too farfetched to be possible, we end up, instead, looking at what we already have on hand—our Ishmaels—and, full of worldly wisdom and experience, we shake our heads at how ridiculous God can sometimes sound, and we think, “C’mon, God, let’s get real, this is about as good as it gets. Just bless what I already have and that should do it.”
 
But God had different ideas! We read in Genesis 17:19: “Then God said, ‘Yes, but your wife Sarah will bear you a son, and you will call him Isaac. I will establish my covenant with him as an everlasting covenant for his descendants after him.” And so, despite all that life has thrown at them and advanced in years as they were, Abraham and Sarah had to brush aside their doubts and call to mind the goodness and greatness of God. The author of Lamentations puts it this way:
 
“I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness, and the gall. I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me. Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, ‘The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.’ The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD” (Lamentations 3:19-26).
 
Despite all the “signs and evidence” around us that scream, “This is as good as it gets!”, we are to recall, literally to dredge up, memories of God’s faithfulness to us in the past, to fuel our hope in Christ and His promises to us, which are always yes and amen (2 Corinthians 1:20).
 
And that’s precisely what Abraham did, what he had to do. As Romans 4:18-22 puts it, “Against all hope, Abraham in hope believed and so became the father of many nations, just as it had been said to him, ‘So shall your offspring be.’ Without weakening in his faith, he faced the fact that his body was as good as dead—since he was about a hundred years old—and that Sarah’s womb was also dead. Yet he did not waver through unbelief regarding the promise of God, but was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God, being fully persuaded that God had power to do what he had promised. This is why ‘it was credited to him as righteousness.’”
 
Abraham had to reorient his perspective from its narrow worldly confines to the wide expanse of God’s perspective. And I think that’s why, in Genesis 15:5, God takes Abraham from his tent outside so that Abraham can gaze at God’s “tent”—the wide expanse of night sky in all its starlit brilliance. And God tells Abraham, “Look up at the sky and count the stars—if indeed you can count them … So shall your offspring be.” And it is at that point, when Abraham exchanges his myopic perspective with God’s mind-blowing perspective—not unlike us exchanging our heavy yokes with Jesus’ yoke, which is easy and light (Matthew 11:29-30)—and that’s the point where Abraham believed the LORD, and his belief was credited it to him by God as righteousness (Genesis 15:6).  
 
Is there a promise God has given you that seems so radical and impossible that you’re tempted—not necessarily to give up—but to put up natural limits to His promise and to say to God, “Here’s my Ishmael, please bless this instead”? Know that you’re not alone, for Abraham’s been there as well. But just as God invited Abraham to enlarge his perspective, so too God invites us to step beyond our narrow vision and horizon into His wide and far-ranging vistas that stretch way farther than our natural eyes can see. Grant us vision and revelation, O God, and the courage and strength to walk in them! Enable us to go from our Ishmaels to realizing the Isaacs You’ve promised us!
 
Friends, I believe our Heavenly Father is calling for us to father and mother the next generation. But God being God, it isn’t enough for us just to do that within our own families, circles, and communities; He wants us to be the fathers and mothers of many nations, just as Jesus commands us to go and make disciples of all nations. That’s God’s Promise to us, as it was for Abraham and Sarah. We have our Part to play, as well as a God-Perspective to adopt: to be “moms” and “dads” with circumcised hearts so that we will produce not Ishmaels but Isaacs, children born not of the flesh but of the Holy Spirit. Let’s continue the good work of helping the next generation of young men and women in our circles of influence to take up the mantle of Christian service throughout the four corners of the world.  

At our recently concluded National Conference held in Singapore (…and what a blessed, fun time that was!) our guest speakers shared some incredible and memorable reflections. I was especially struck by the key takeaway from the meditation by Joseph Chean, who spoke at our conference’s closing session. Joe’s point, and what a sober one, was this: It is entirely possible for God’s people to succeed in their God-given ministry and mission with God’s help--but without His Presence.
 
Referencing God’s conversation with Moses (Ex. 33) following Israel’s golden calf incident (see Ex. 32), Joe drew our attention to God’s ominous words: “Then the LORD said to Moses, ‘Leave this place, you and the people you brought up out of Egypt, and go up to the land I promised on oath to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, saying, “I will give it to your descendants.” I will send an angel before you and drive out the Canaanites, Amorites, Hittites, Perizzites, Hivites and Jebusites. Go up to the land flowing with milk and honey. But I will not go with you, because you are a stiff-necked people and I might destroy you on the way’” (Ex. 33:1-3).
 
In this passage, God essentially told Moses and Israel that He would provide an angel to lead and to clear the way for them to the Promised Land; in other words, God would help them fulfill their mission and reach their promised destination. But God Himself would NOT be joining them, because they were a rebellious bunch, and He might end up destroying them on the way.
 
Having been a Christ-follower for over 40 years, I have—presumptuously, I confess—come to regard God’s Presence with His people as given. After all, did Jesus not tell His disciples when He commissioned and sent them forth, “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age” (Mt. 28:20, NIV)? Indeed, in response to God’s shocking decision to not accompany Israel, Moses subsequently urged and reminded God, “‘If your Presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here. How will anyone know that you are pleased with me and with your people unless you go with us? What else will distinguish me and your people from all the other people on the face of the earth?’” (Ex. 33:15-16). Ultimately, isn’t the very success of the ministry and work to which God has assigned us dependent on His Presence going with us? 
 
Apparently not! Since all things are possible with God, as Jesus reminded His disciples (Mk. 10:27), God can certainly enable us to succeed in ministry without His Presence with us. But if God’s Presence isn’t needed for us to get the job done, then why did Jesus promise He will be with us always? Why did Moses insist on God’s Presence going with him and Israel, without which Moses would rather not proceed? Because, as you and I know, it’s all about relationship —that between God and us, and we with Him! And yet so many times, have I unwittingly allowed Christian ministry and service to supplant my relationship with Christ in whose Name, and to and for whom, I minister and serve.
 
Jesus issued a somber warning in Matthew 7: “‘Not everyone who says to me, “Lord, Lord,” will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, “Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name and in your name drive out demons and in your name perform many miracles?” Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!’” (v. 21-23). It seems that not all folks who enjoy great ministry success on earth make it into the Kingdom of God. With God’s help, they might even have accomplished great things for Him. But they did not do the Father’s will: looking to the Son of God, believing in Him, and having a relationship with Him (Jn 6:40).
 
Family, may we never put our ministry and mission—crucially important as they are—before our relationship with Christ our Lord! ​

“If you have raced with men on foot and they have worn you out, how can you compete with horses? If you stumble in safe country, how will you manage in the thickets by the Jordan?” (Jer. 12:5, NIV).
 
Do we “wait well” in challenging times? Resilience in life and ministry is a real concern today. Clearly, the Church hasn’t been immune to the pandemic-fueled “Great Resignation,” with over 40% of pastors considering quitting their ministries as a result of stress, isolation, and political divisiveness (https://www.barna.com/research/pastors-quitting-ministry/). To be sure, we believe in our calling and are committed to completing our God-given assignments. But to keep fighting the good fight hasn’t been easy! We are committed to following Christ, but many of us are suffering, whether physically, mentally, emotionally, or spiritually. Like David…like Jesus…we cry, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
 
To lament is to be human; indeed, a third of the Book of the Psalms comprises laments. But as we find with the Israelites in their post-Egypt trek in the wilderness, where they endlessly griped about everything, what might begin legitimately as lament could just as easily turn into unwarranted complaint. Lament clearly has its place. Complaint, on the other hand, is potentially a slippery slope that leads us to dark places where the temptation to quit—not just full-time ministry but perhaps even the Christian life—could prove overpowering.
 
The prophet Jeremiah did not have it easy in ministry. He was beaten and put in stocks, threatened with death, tossed into a mud-filled hole, branded a liar, and forced by rebellious Jewish military officers to go with them to Egypt in contravention of God’s orders (Jer. 20:1-2, 26:11, 38:6, 43:2-7). When the going got especially tough, Jeremiah leveled harsh accusations at God: “Why is my pain unending and my wound grievous and incurable? You are to me like a deceptive brook, like a spring that fails” (Jer. 15:18, NIV). And again: “You deceived me, LORD, and I was deceived; you overpowered me and prevailed” (Jer. 20:7, NIV). Jeremiah basically labeled God a deceiver and liar and trickster—terms better befitting the devil, not God!
 
But as Jeremiah learned, God expects him—and us—to do something incredulous: compete with horses! I confess there are times when, pondering Jer. 12:5, I just shake my head and groan, “Race with horses?? Lord, You’ve got to be kidding!” And yet, for the man who blamed God for presumably deceiving him—it’s implied in Scripture that Jeremiah repented before God and was restored as God’s servant (Jer. 15:19)—Jeremiah stayed true to his calling and was faithful and obedient to God all his life, no matter how difficult things got. 
 
Tradition has it that Jeremiah was the author of the Book of Lamentations, where these astonishing words confront us:
 
“I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall. I well remember them, and my soul is downcast within me. Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, ‘The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.’ The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD” (Lam. 3:19-26, NIV).
 
How was Jeremiah able to stay resilient? Three words: he waited well. Where previously his downcast soul led him to accuse God, here he insists it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord—to await the faithful God whose mercies are new every morning.
 
Resilience is arguably the “final frontier,” if you like, of the Christian life. We are urged to run with perseverance the race which God has marked out for us, because perseverance is necessary for completing us toward maturity in Christ (Heb. 12:1; Jas 1:3-4). Moreover, Jesus warns that the love of most will grow cold in the last days, “but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved” (Matt. 24:12-13).
 
Brothers and Sisters, let’s you and I persevere, stand firm, and wait well. The horses await us! ​

My thoughts in this Advent Season have been on the Magi from back East, who came to Jerusalem looking for the “King of the Jews” prophesied about in the Hebrew Scriptures. Little is known about the Magi. Were they Zoroastrians from Persia, astrologers from Babylonia—possibly the successors to the generation of wise men led by the prophet Daniel (Daniel 2:48)—or perhaps monks from China?1
 
Whoever the Magi were, one thing is for sure: not only did the Magi know the Hebrew scriptures thoroughly through their diligent study of it, but they also willingly put their knowledge to the test by taking a long, arduous, and dangerous journey to Israel to find out whether the prophecy about the birth of the Christ had indeed been fulfilled. Moreover, they brought gifts—of gold, frankincense, and myrrh—with which they worshiped the infant Son of God. In short, they dared to live out the Word of God! 
 
Contrast the Magi’s reverent attitude and conduct, however, with that of another group of wise men—the chief priests and teachers of the law in Israel. Asked by King Herod about the same prophecy, this group, the “Magi of Israel” if you like, knew the details about the time and place of the Messiah’s anticipated birth just as well as the Magi from the East did. They were even able to quote chapter and verse:
 
“In Bethlehem in Judea,” they replied, “for this is what the prophet has written: “‘But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, are by no means least among the rulers of Judah; for out of you will come a ruler who will shepherd my people Israel’” (Matthew 2:5-6, NIV).
 
However, unlike the Magi from back East, these wise men of Jerusalem did not act on their knowledge about the prophecy. Bethlehem is a mere six miles from Jerusalem, but the Jerusalem Wise Guys (C’mon, didn’t they behave at times like a cabal of mafiosi?) did not bother to check out the prophecy’s fulfillment, much less seek to worship the anticipated Messiah. And they were the religious leaders and teachers of Israel, for crying out loud! 
 
Maybe they were afraid of what Herod would do to them. Indeed, all Jerusalem, including its Herodian leader, were unsettled by the appearance of the Magi who’d navigated to Israel by the star. But given that Herod played nice with the Magi, you would think at least a couple of the Jewish leaders and teachers might have been tempted to go check things out in Bethlehem. But no, because (as Scripture points out) other than the Magi, the only other human visitors who showed up for the post-birth baby shower were shepherds to whom God’s angels had given a “heads up”!
 
The difference is as stark as night and day. It was the Outsiders—the wise men from Babylon, Persia, Yemen, or China…take your pick--who took the Bible seriously and sought out the Christ for themselves. They actively applied and passionately lived the very words of God. On the other hand, the Insiders—the self-proclaimed “sons of Abraham"--held the very knowledge in their hands and heads but did absolutely nothing with it. Those in the “out” group took God seriously whereas the ones in the “in” group—despite their insider status and privileged information—could care less.
 
Jesus once said He has come in search of the lost and the sick because those who claim to know it all and think themselves healthy aren’t the ones who need saving (Luke 19:10; Mark 2:17). The real guests to the Great Banquet aren’t the original invitees, the so-called Insiders who decline God’s invitation on the flimsiest of excuses. Rather, they are the Outsiders—the poor, the crippled, the blind and the lame, all the down-and-outers from within and without (Luke 14:15-24).
 
Are we “in” or “out”? 
 
A blessed Christmas and God-filled New Year to all!
 
Notes
1 As speculated in Brent Landau, Revelation of the Magi: The Lost Tale of the Wise Men’s Journey to Bethlehem (New York: HarperOne, 2010).