Category: Bible promises

The Shepherd’s Oil

I have to admit, I always wondered what this verse in Psalm 23 meant. I thought “He anoints my head with oil” was a nice poetic phrase for God blessing David. But as I delved deeper into the context and explored different interpretations, a beautiful and profound meaning unfolded before my eyes.

First of all the act of anointing with oil holds significant cultural and spiritual symbolism in biblical times. It was a practice to anoint guests as a sign of honor and welcome, especially in lavish feasts and celebrations.

Anointing with oil also had medicinal purposes, as it could soothe and heal various ailments. (Now that’s interesting, I thought.)

In the context of Psalm 23, the phrase “He anoints my head with oil” takes on a deeper metaphorical meaning. It signifies God’s abundant blessings, His provision, and His care for His people. Just as a host anoints the head of a guest as an act of honor and hospitality, God lovingly anoints us with blessings and favor.

Moreover, the act of anointing with oil has spiritual connotations. In ancient religious rituals, anointing with oil was a sign of consecration, setting apart someone or something for a holy purpose.

This verse also portrays a practical picture of medicinal shepherding.

In biblical times, shepherds used oil to treat and protect the sheep’s wounds and keep insects away from their heads. By anointing our heads with oil, God brings healing and comfort to our brokenness, soothing our hurts and protecting us from the turmoil of life.

Sheep often can do harmful things to themselves as they try to find relief from flies and ticks.

Their ears and eyes can be targets for tormenting insects as well.

Sheep have been known to bash their heads against rock walls to dislodge flies from their ears, noses, and eyes. A good shepherd watches closely over his flock. He watches over them carefully.

A good shepherd knows that poured out oil forms a barrier of protection against these things that would try to destroy the sheep.

Have you ever asked God to anoint your head with oil?

Psalm 23 as a whole beautifully paints a picture of God as our loving and caring Shepherd, guiding us, providing for us, and protecting us. The imagery of anointing with oil further illuminates the depth of His love and the extent of His care. It reminds us that we are chosen and cherished by God, and that His blessings are abundant and unending.

But ask yourself these questions. Do you have times of mental torment? Do the worrisome thoughts invade your mind over and over? Do you beat your head against a wall trying to stop them?

The Holy Spirit can come with His endless supply of oil!

“You prepare a table before me
    in the presence of my enemies;
you anoint my head with oil;
    my cup overflows.”

Psalm 23:5, ESV

Oh how He loves you!

Sifted Wheat, [Trial]

 

Threshing Wheat
“Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift each of you like wheat.  But I have pleaded in prayer for you, Simon, that your faith should not fail.”
“So when you have repented and turned to me again, strengthen your brothers.”

Luke 22:31-32

I’ve been thinking about failure;  it is something that I am really, really good at.  In my over 40 years of walking with Jesus, I realized that I’ve experienced more weak moments then strong.  I have easily failed more than I have succeeded. I am embarrassed by this.  I’ve sinned, and failed more as a Christian, than I ever did as a pagan sinner. And things sometimes show little sign of improving. 

Simon Peter is about to undergo a trial so intense and difficult, that unless Jesus intervenes it will probably destroy Peter.

(The only other blatant attack where Satan seeks permission is in the life of Job. It is reasonable to believe that the forces of hell are concentrated on Peter.)

You and I undergo some of this onslaught ourselves.  We go through periods of intense trial.  Everything just falls apart, and we lose hope.  I’ve had several periods like that, it’s like a tornado from hell bears down upon my life.

But there is something remarkably good in all of this.

  • First, Jesus is praying for me to endure.  He is the faithful intercessor for my soul.
  • Second, He gives us a modicum of understanding by warning us of the approaching storm.  Peter is told ahead of time of what was going to happen.
  • Third, the wheat will be sifted.  Sifting or winnowing of the grain is necessary, it’s a good and godly work of the Holy Spirit. It is a good thing, as it builds your faith.
  • Four, you will survive to strengthen your brothers and sisters.

All pain and failure gives us a mandate to serve others. Our weakness gives us a spiritual license to become a shepherd of mercy and hope.  (You could say that you are now a licensed minister.)

We can ask for nothing more; it is a good and profound work to serve others.

In love’s work, only sifted people can truly serve.

 

Rembrandt’s Prodigal Son

Rembrandt-The_return_of_the_prodigal_son
Rembrandt, “The Return of the Prodigal Son,” c. 1661

17 “But when he came to himself, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired servants have more than enough bread, but I perish here with hunger! 18 I will arise and go to my father, and I will say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. 19 I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants.”’ 20 And he arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. 21 And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’ 22 But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. 23 And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. 24 For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’ And they began to celebrate.

Luke 15:17-24, ESV

Two hundred and eighty-nine words– these describe the life of every man, woman, and child who has ever lived. These 289 words reveal to us a God who loves far too much, way too easy. Perhaps we sort of expect that he will ‘appropriately’ punish his son– at least put him on probation at least. It only makes sense. But we find that is legalism talking.

“Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.” 

Many of us have lived as prodigals, and we have spent our inheritance like ‘drunken sailors.’ We really have nothing at all to show for it. The prodigal, completely destitute, takes the only work he can find. (Imagine a good Jewish boy feeding hogs.)

He is so far gone that he starts inspecting the filthy slop buckets for something to eat.

Many of us will understand his despair. Often there comes to us a crystalline moment of simple awareness. The prodigal, sin-crusted and impoverished, still has a lingering memory of the Father’s house.

The servants there had far more than him right now. Sometimes I wonder if in our captivity, we instinctively want to go home, if only in our minds, to be a servant there.

The Father has dreamed of this precise moment.

The parable says, “He saw him–felt compassion–ran out to him–embraced him–and kissed him.” The Father is a whirlwind of agape love. I’ve read the Parable of the Prodigal Son a hundred times or more. It never loses its punch. I simply want to bring some observations: 

  • We see that his father receives him with a tender gesture. His hands seem to suggest mothering and fathering at once; the left appears larger and more masculine, set on the son’s shoulder, while the right is softer and more receptive in gesture.
  • The son’s head is downy, almost like a newborn’s. We must enter the kingdom like little children. 
  • The Prodigal Son seems to be protected by his father. He snuggles near the Father’s breast. It’s love that holds him there.
  • Consider his sandals. It has taken a long time for him to come home. 
  • Standing at the right is the prodigal son’s older brother, who crosses his hands in stoic judgment; we read in the parable that he objects to the father’s compassion for his brother.
  • We see his mother in the background in the painting, and a seated steward or counselor. One stands in profound joy, the other in sits in stunned perplexity.

But Rembrandt had painted the Prodigal once before, when he was considerably younger. And it is a very good painting. The prodigal is happy and gay; there is absolutely no indication of the consequences of sin.

The Prodigal Son in the Brothel, 1635

He’s a charming young man at the height of his popularity, and we see him at a happy party. He is spending the inheritance of his father.

But Rembrandt chooses at the very end of his life to re-paint it to reflect reality.

This is one of the last paintings he will do, and it is the Prodigal Son–destitute and repenting. I can only imagine; the years have taken a toll and he doesn’t really feel his first painting is enough. He wants to paint what is true.

He now is painting our spiritual condition.

We are given a work that some critics call as the greatest painting ever completed. The painting is now in St. Petersburg, Russia. It is seldom seen by visitors. It is a clear echo of the grace of God for fallen men and women. Like the father in the painting, He’s ready to forgive every sin saturated son and daughter.

The Father’s Prodigal

bry-signat (1)

 

Oh God, Why is This Happening to Me?

book_of_Job-570x377
“Why have you made me your target?…Why do you hide your face?…Why should I struggle in vain?…Why does the Almighty not set times for judgment?…Why then did you bring me out of the womb?”

Job 7:20, 13:24, 9:29, 24:1, 10:18

Didn’t Job get “hammered?” His monumental suffering is unparalleled in history. He is essentially a godly man who loses everything (except his faith). Job must pick up the pieces after “catastrophic ” sudden pain and total loss.

Job is being tested with the ultimate horrors. Will he “curse God and die” as his wife suggests? Will he cave in to the final four (his friends) and agree to their twisted theology? (You have to read chapters 38-39 to find out).

The Book of Job has been regarded as inaccessible and archaic by many.

Unfortunately many believe this assessment and look elsewhere for comfort. I would agree that Job is a challenging book, but so is Macbeth or Plato. (I guess you should find an easier translation).

Job is less an explanation and more a revelation of suffering. “Why” questions go unanswered. “Who” questions matter. I suppose this seems unfair. It certainly seems so, but straight answers in a fallen world won’t get any mileage at all.

One more thing. The Book of Job is about “twisted” theology. Job’s friends “toe-the-party-line” of theology that is logical. But don’t be mislead by their pronouncements, for they seem reasonable but they are flawed. It is a doctrine without love.

“If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.”

1 Cor. 13:2

You can’t split your theology from love and get away with it.

When you read “Job’s friends” you must remember that. These are lessons it takes a long time to learn.

The broken believer, hobbled by chronic illness, has much to learn from Job. He is like “the poster child” for those afflicted. My mental illness is an issue (of course) but God is fully in control. He brings beauty out of the ashes.

“To bestow on them a crown of beauty
    instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
    instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
    instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
    a planting of the Lord
    for the display of his splendor.”

Isaiah 61:3