“For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison,”
2 Corinthians 4:17
There is an old folk tale told by the Arab people.
Weary travelers meet up with a man while on a hard journey. “Two more miles, and when you stop, fill your packs with the rocks along the road” he said. “In the morning light, you will become happy and sad at the same time.”
It was dark when they arrived. They were pretty much exhausted, and hardly took any time to think about picking up rocks. They needed food and sleep and there was a few hours to rest; who had time to ponder the odd riddle of an old man?
But there were a few that listened; several went and picked up the gravel– the stones they could find in the dark. Those who listened filled their bags– some little, others more so. The majority did nothing. Who wants to carry rocks in their packs?
The morning came too early, and soon they were back on their journey. There was little time for anything but packing up to move. For some their packs were heavier, and they stopped to inspect their load.
Suddenly, someone shouted out. “Oh my God! Check your packs!” The one who cried out held up an emerald the size of his fist. Others cried out with excitement as they discovered rubies, diamonds and jade gems.
You see, the rocks they had picked up in the dark were really jewels of staggering wealth.
Of course, it only mattered to those who had listened. What some regard as a burden becomes something of significance in the daylight. Perhaps our trials will become more than we could ever fathom. It is worth consideration.
“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us.”
Romans 8:18
P.S. Don’t doubt in the dark what God has shown you in the light.
“So then, since we have a great High Priest who has entered heaven, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to what we believe. This High Priest of ours understands our weaknesses, for he faced all of the same testings we do, yet he did not sin. So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most.“
Hebrews 4:14-16
These two verses out of Hebrews 4 establish three things.
We are “criminals” and in need of representation.
Jesus Christ stands ready, and able to help us before both this world and to the one to come.
Jesus still has a present day ministry as our priest and provider.
And he is busy! He did not ascend to heaven to wait around for his second coming. He is active, and we are being acted upon.
Saving you, and watching over you, is the present work of heaven.
But there is more, let’s look at the story of Paul’s voyage to Rome in Acts 27. He is a prisoner being escorted to stand before Caesar. He has a guard who is watching him as he travels by ship across much of the Mediterranean.
Because of the time of the year, the trip will be hard. The weather is very iffy, and awful storms could pummel a ship at times. No matter what, it will be a hard journey. Sometimes that happens.
“When a light wind began blowing from the south, the sailors thought they could make it. So they pulled up anchor and sailed close to the shore of Crete. 14 But the weather changed abruptly, and a wind of typhoon strength (called a “northeaster”) burst across the island and blew us out to sea. 15 The sailors couldn’t turn the ship into the wind, so they gave up and let it run before the gale.”
16 “We sailed along the sheltered side of a small island named Cauda, where with great difficulty we hoisted aboard the lifeboat being towed behind us. 17 Then the sailors bound ropes around the hull of the ship to strengthen it. They were afraid of being driven across to the sandbars of Syrtis off the African coast, so they lowered the sea anchor to slow the ship and were driven before the wind.”
Acts 27:13-17, NLT
The storm is probably a once in a lifetime experience. It seems everyone is problem-solving trying to keep the ship from “breaking up.” They are fighting for their lives. After tossing over the cargo, and the ships tackle, they would have cut down the mast. Leaving it up would only weaken the ship’s hull, which reduces their chances.
They then did something called “frapping.”
It involved wrapping ropes or cables around the hull in a criss-cross manner. This outside strengthening would have been “levered” to increase tightness. It could be an effective way of surviving the unsurvivable.
There is a specific Greek word to describe this frapping. It is used in only one other place in the entire Bible. In Hebrews 4:16 we read–
“So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy,and we will find grace to help us when we need it most.“
Can you see the connection? In these desperate times when the storm is ripping up everything, attempting to destroy us– our families, our friends and neighbors. Just survival seems a long stretch. It is then that Jesus fraps (or wraps) us tightly.
But many of us go through typhoons with the cables coiled up on deck. We seem oblivious and ignorant of its availability. We really don’t see the “present tense’ ministry of Jesus standing to intercede. We merit nothing– but He promises us everything. We are on the knife’s edge of falling apart, but perhaps it’s our own fault?
I believe this message has not come to you by accident. You are either in the storm, or know someone who is there. The name of this post is, “Jesus Actively Helps Me.” I hope you will see it, you will need it.
“Jesus Christ carries on intercession for us in heaven; the Holy Ghost carries on intercession in us on earth; and we the saints have to carry on intercession for all men.”
“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, “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.
Broken Believers 
