Right now we are in the Roman Empire during the reign of an increasingly unstable Nero. I am attempting, extremely feebly, to marry Roman history with the New Testament. It has been fascinating to me. Learning about the Roman Empire makes the New Testament take on an even richer meaning. For example, when you consider that it is estimated that nearly 75% of the Roman Empire was in slavery----sort of a secret slavery, in that there were no special uniforms or regulations for slaves----those verses about "servants and masters" seem a great deal softened when seen through the lens of historical context. You can see God's care for those in such circumstances.
This week what humbled me greatly was learning about the Apostle Paul.
I "know" Paul. I can factually teach about the simple highlights of Paul with relative ease----he was Saul, he consented to Stephen's death, he persecuted Jesus but thought he was persecuting radical religious blasphemers for the sake of God, he had his "road to Damascus" moment, literally; he had to escape capture of the Jews forever, he traveled a lot, he made tents for a living although he was a Roman citizen and a very well-educated Jew. He wrote a TON, he was bold, he was in and out of prison, beaten and stoned, he preached all over, he healed people, he was shipwrecked, bit by a venomous snake without harm, and he met his demise in Rome.
Not only have I taught Sunday school kids about Paul, but I have taught my own kids, and have listened to my own husband and many others lead Bible studies and preach about Paul, all over the space of nearly 25 years.
But I think sometimes I am so close to the fire I don't see the flames. I lose the marvel of the fire dancing, leaping, sparking up in the air, licking up whatever is in its path, crackling and lifelike in the darkness. I forget to inhale that deep woodsy scent of the campfire. I just know it is fire, it is hot, and I move on.
Thankfully, His word is a living Word. His Spirit opens up the word, and shows in real time what we specifically need to see. What a blessing!
When Paul was assured by Jesus that he must go to Rome, Paul knew that meant his death. That revelation came several years before his death. He knew that Jesus was deliberately leading him in a slow death march before the head of Rome, so that Jesus would be witnessed in the testimony of Paul before the most powerful man in all the earth.
What did he do in this march? He appeared in court several times. He testified to governing men (in the presence of his enemies) about Jesus, to some of them many times, and implored them to repent. He neglected to secure his own release, although he could have. He was cheerful, he was kind, he was concerned with the needs of all around him. He was mostly concerned with the state of their souls. He wrote letters admonishing, encouraging, and loving the churches. He wrote personal letters to those behind him, younger men who needed teaching and encouragement. He healed the sick and dying. He wrote to the owner of the runaway slave Onesimus, beseeching mercy for him. He loved the Roman guards over him, the base and crude prisoners beside him, the sinner before him.
What he never did was look in the mirror of self-pity.
I think that is because he didn't look in the mirror at all. Was he in need of comfort? Surely. It speaks in Acts of him "taking courage" when in the presence of other brothers in his journey to Rome. But Paul was busy. Busy in the work of Jesus. Busy loving, busy working, busy writing.
When he could preach, he preached. When he could serve, he served. When he couldn't do those things. . . .he wrote. Beautiful, well-written, spirit-inspired letters that were focused on Jesus and the recipient. He was dying----dying a beautiful, thriving, productive, joy-filled death.
So here is where "fire" meets "flame": I am dying. So are you. We are all dying. Our marches may be long or short; we don't know. Paul didn't know either. He was essentially, waiting to die. And so are we. Only God knows the time for us.
Only God knows the breaths left. Only God knows the hours left in our sometimes confusing circumstances. Perhaps you are in a waiting room of sorts----not sure where you are headed, not sure how long you are where you are, but still. . . waiting. . . .
How will I wait? Will I continue to wait, gazing into the mirror of self? Self-pity, self-justification, self-service, self-will?
Or will I hang the black drape of death over my mirror to self? Will I instead gaze OUT-----out at those around me, those before me, and use my testimony as a witness to both small and great? Will I use my hands to serve where needed, my words to encourage, admonish, and exhort, my money to show kindness and hospitality and to "receive all that came in unto him" (Acts 28:30)?
Will I love with abandoning considerations of repayment? Will I completely and utterly let JESUS, and the best He has to offer, be my all in all? Will I "run the race with patience"? Will I truly be able to say, "I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith?"
Can you even imagine the joy that Jesus had when looking down on Paul? Will I ever bring that joy to my sweet Savior?
"Oh, don't be so hard on yourself. . . .. there are no more Nero's."
There doesn't have to be.
There is plenty of work to do.
But the first task. . . .. . . . .
is to drape that mirror.
May we each aspire to SEE the work around us.
Love to you all this fine day,
Sandra
