Approaching the Throne

Approaching the Throne

Way back in the day, when I wrote Jewel of Persia, I had to study not only the book of Esther and Old Testament history, but Persian history as well. It was interesting to learn that Xerxes was called “the king of kings” because of the vastness of his empire, and the fact that he had so many countries subjugated to his own–there were other kings, but they ranked beneath him.

Which of course got me thinking about why we call God the King of kings. Because there are always going to be other rulers on earth, authority over us. But He is above all of them. Makes sense, right?

In the story of Esther, it’s pretty clear how powerful and terrifying the king can be. And Xerxes was known for his generosity! But still, she was taking her life into her hands when she went before him without being summoned. To us today, this seems a bit weird, right? I mean, she was his wife. No, more than that–his queen. She had plenty of authority of her own.

But not enough to counteract his. Not enough that, had she caught him in a bad mood, he might not depose her or worse. He was the king–one of the absolute varieties who literally held the power of life and death in his hand. And she was but one of his wives. He had hundreds. What if they all just barged into the throne room whenever they wanted a favor or had something to tell him? It would have been chaos.

The same is true of other ancient kings. They were fearsome. They were intimidating. Because they were powerful. Their authority meant they could do pretty much anything they wanted.

So naturally, the people of God viewed Him the same way. He was, after all, the true King of kings. He held ALL life and death in His hands.

This power is not something to trifle with. This power is not something to ignore. This power is not something to assume yourself immune to. Because all too often we see what happened to those who did that–they were struck down, given over to enemies, cursed.

God is fearsome. Awesome. Terrifying. God is the sort of love beyond our comprehension, that kind that requires justice and purity and holiness, not just grace and mercy.

Just because we’re in the age of grace, that doesn’t mean His nature has changed. He is still the King of kings and the Lord of lords. He is still that terrifying deity who holds life and death, blessing and cursing in His hands. He is still the God whose throne room cannot be breached by force of will.

But do you know who could always enter before the king? His heir. Now, ancient kings had a ton of children, most of the time, and they couldn’t all just fly into the throne room and launch themselves into his arms (see that note above about chaos). But once he had appointed an heir, things changed. That heir had to be there. He had to learn. He had a portion of the king’s authority, and in His absence from a region, all his authority. The heir could come and go as he pleased, do as he pleased, but with a certain understanding–that he was acting on behalf of the king, and that he could do so only because the king had granted him that power. Their wills were to be one. Their stances one. Their authority one.

You obviously know where I’m going with this, right? Christ is the heir. He can enter the throne room. But the King and his Heir did something amazing when Jesus came to earth and died for us–they named us co-heirs. Not just other princes and princesses, who might be loved and might receive gifts and might be allowed entrance now and then to their presence. No, co-heirs with Christ. Do we get what that means?? It means we also have that authority–but only because they’ve granted it to us. It means we have that authority when we share their will, share their goals, share their kingdom-oriented passions. We can approach God, not just because He is merciful and loving, but because He has appointed us as responsible parties, let’s say, for His kingdom.

That doesn’t mean we’re there to frolic and play with the crown jewels. That means we’re there to get down to business. We’re there to strategize with Him. We’re there to carry out His goals and visions. We’re there to do His bidding and be His emissaries to the world.

We can approach His throne without fear, because we’re authorized to be there and share in His authority…but at the same time, we need to remember that there is fear in approaching Him, because He has ALL authority. We should be always aware of how fearsome He is, and we should be aware of it in part because He’s granted that same power to us. If we’re to wield it effectively, lovingly, mercifully, justly, we need to understand it. Appreciate it. Respect it.

If we’re not walking in that authority, are we really acting like His heirs? But at the same time, if we’re misusing it, are we truly being the emissary of the King? If we ignore that it’s real, don’t recognize His awe-inspiring power, then we bind our own hands–because if we don’t recognize His power, we can’t accept it for ourselves, it means nothing. And yet when He looks upon us and calls us His child and tells us we are co-heirs with Christ, we also can’t just shuffle our feet and hide our face and say, “Thanks for the welcome, Lord, but I’m just going to hide in the corner.”

That’s not what the heir does. The heir goes out. The heir does business. The heir learns how to run the Kingdom.

What are we doing today to run the Kingdom for the King?

Word of the Week – Delight

Word of the Week – Delight

You know how I often begin these posts by telling you about how my family was talking about this or that word, and I guess as to how it evolved, and I was right? Yeah…not the case this time at all. 😉

As it turns out, delight has nothing to do with light, as I was trying to guess. 😉 It’s actually from the French delitier, which is in turn from the Latin delectare, both of which mean “pleasure, charm, that which satisfies.” And that Latin probably looks pretty familiar, right? We also get words like delectable and delicious from the same root. Delight is just a variation of those, and both the noun and verb entered English way back in the 1200s…but was spelled delite for hundreds of years, until the 16th century.

Why the change to -ight? Well that is owed to the influence of words like light, flight, night etc. It’s solely an attempt to use a uniform spelling of a sound and has nothing at all to do with the meaning of the word it then looks like. Go figure!

The Right Gospel

The Right Gospel

When you read through the epistles, there’s a common theme to many of them: Paul is admonishing them for following after false versions of Christianity. Listening to teachers or prophets who said Christ wasn’t fully man or fully God . . . getting tangled back up in the law . . . denying the resurrection. From the vantage point of two thousand years later, we may shake our heads at how those early Christians were just as susceptible to straying from God’s truth as the Old Testament Israelites.

When really, that should be a warning. If God’s people were falling prey to that four thousand years ago, two thousand years ago . . . what are the chances that His people aren’t falling prey to the same today?

Oo, oo, I know the answer! *Insert me waving my hand in the air enthusiastically*

Zero.

That sounds harsh. And of course, there are faithful Christians today, just as there were where then. But if it was a problem then, it’s a problem now. And if it’s a problem now, then we need to be aware. On our guard. Self-aware. Because I seriously doubt those early church believers knew that they’d strayed from the Way, that they’d done it deliberately, that they thought, “Oh, this version is wrong, but I’ll follow it anyway.” No . . . they thought they were right. They thought they’d come to a better, fuller understanding of something. They thought they were pleasing God. But Paul has pretty strong words for them, doesn’t he?

O foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you that you should not obey the truth…? (Galatians 3:1)

We–humanity in general–are so foolish. We do let ourselves be charmed and bewitched by other gospels. We believe what we want to, creating idols–our own vision of God, that makes Him over in our own image, instead of letting Him remake us.

But Galatians 3 also gives us a test to know if we’ve stumbled onto that slippery slope. Paul reminds them that they KNOW the Gospel he preached was the true Gospel, because it was by that Word that they received the Spirit.

If we’re following the correct version of Christianity, that test should still hold true. We should still be filled with the Holy Spirit. But even that can be tricky, right? We’re in an age where we know for a fact some people put on a show of being Spirit-filled, when really they’re not. We’ve scientifically proven that drugs give people the same experience as a moving church service (seriously!). How do we even know that, then? If we’ve experienced the genuine thing?

I think that itself is actually the key–the Spirit of God is not an experience. He is not a feeling. He is a tongue of fire, a mighty wind, a being of immense power. And a great mystery too. We should know if that being has filled us. We should be aware of His Presence, of His guidance, of His hand upon us and His whisper in our ears. And we can know if He’s there in the lives of others, because they’ll be bearing His fruit. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control.

Those voices you’re listening to today–the ones on social media, on the radio, on the TV, in your own church, the friend trying to tell you how to live, or even in your own head . . . that voice you are using to speak to others . . . do they pass that test? This is a serious question we all need to ask ourselves regularly. And hopefully, the answer is Yes! But it’s not always going to be. Sometimes we’ll have let in voices that promote fear. Sometimes we find ourselves following people who want war instead of peace. Sometimes we find ourselves nodding along to people who are far from gentle, far from kind, who fly off the handle at a moment’s notice. Sometimes we do those things.

Sometimes people talk a good talk, put on a good show, but then the uglies come out years later.

Sometimes people hide judgement behind a sweet disposition.

Sometimes we chase after the visible signs, the miracles, the experience and forget to listen to the still, small Voice that comes in the quiet after the earthquake, not during the show of fire and light.

But we can know, my friends. We can know, when we actually pause to check and to listen and to question, if we’re still following the Right Gospel. We can know, because He won’t hide it from us if we ask. But sometimes we have to ask. Sometimes we have to listen to the Pauls in our lives who warn us when we’re being deceived.

Let’s regularly take the time to evaluate which path our feet are on. Let’s examine the fruit of our own lives and the lives of those whose voices fill our ears. Let’s make sure we all pass the test of the Spirit. Because that’s the only way we know if we’re trusting in the Right Gospel . . . or if we’ve fallen into foolishness like the Galatians.

Word of the Week – Cobbler

Word of the Week – Cobbler

Ever wonder how two very different meanings get attached to the same word? Cobbler is a perfect example.

Historically, a cobbler is someone who mends shoes and has been such since the late 1300s. Cobbler and cobble (the verb) seem to have evolved together in English, the verb meaning “to mend or patch together.” So how, you may wonder, did it come to mean a fruit dessert with a heavy top crust in American English?

Well, my theory was that it’s because cobbler is kinda tossed together, cobbled together, one might say… The etymology entry doesn’t bear that out, but it doesn’t have many better ideas, either, LOL. All people can say is that it came from the same root, cob, which has been applied to all sorts of words but always has a sense of “lumpy” or “bumpy” in it somewhere. Hence cobblestones and a cob of corn–all things with bumps and lumps. =) Well, that’s definitely true of the dessert too! And it also makes sense in the shoe sense, in that patches and mends tend to be a bit lumpy and bumpy too.

Are you a fan of fruit cobbler? Or perhaps corn on the cob?

Word of the Week – Travesty

Word of the Week – Travesty

Thanks to how similar travesty sounds to tragedy, I think I was always laboring under some false ideas about this one…especially because it often is a tragedy when something is also a travesty.

Travesty, however, comes from the Latin and Italian words that mean “to disguise.” It’s from trans (across, beyond) + vestire (to clothe), so literally “to dress over” in a way that would alter beyond recognition.

Travesty entered the English language in the 1660s, meaning “dressed in a way to be made ridiculous; parodied” from the French travesti, meaning “dressed in disguise.” By the 1670s, it was applied to literary parodies of more serious works. So there we go– a travesty is a mockery or parody of something, a “disguise” of the real thing.

So literary travesties are fun…but we certainly don’t want to see court rulings that are a travesty of justice!