Stephen
Terry, Director
Fulfilling
Old Testament Prophecies
Commentary
for the November 23, 2024, Sabbath School Lesson
"Don't you believe
that I am in the Father, and that the Father is in me? The words I say to you I
do not speak on my own authority. Rather, it is the Father, living in me, who
is doing his work. Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father
is in me; or at least believe on the evidence of the works themselves." John 14:10-11, NIV
I grew up in the kind of home
that did not say grace before meals. Sometimes it is a mystery to me how
someone with little religious family influence that bordered on antireligion
grew up to become a pastor. We always had neighbors who would take us to church
with them even though our parents did not attend. But that was not the primary
influence that shaped my life. After all, of the four of us children, only two
are church members today, and I am the only one who sought out a pastoral
career. While I am thankful today for those church going neighbors who took an
interest in four neighborhood waifs, I did not become a member of any of those
denominations. As I got a little older, I stopped attending church with
neighbors because my time filled with activities with friends from school. We
explored the local creeks and rode our bicycles all over the small town of Port
Orchard. This kept us in fairly decent shape because the town was on two
levels. There was the lower part where Bay Street ran along the waterfront of
Sinclair Inlet. We explored the beach, fished from piers, collected clams, and
even salvaged empty pop bottles from the water to redeem for deposits at the
local grocery.
While I spent time in the lower
town doing these things and visiting the library, my family lived in the upper
part of town above three blocks of a steep climb up Sidney or Cline Avenues
past the county courthouse. The ride to lower Port Orchard was a breeze, but
the slog back up to where we lived was a chore, especially with a load of
library books on a sweltering summer day. These were days of freedom of movement
and little accountability. Rarely did our parents seem to worry about where we
were or what we were doing. That was normal for our friends as well. While that
can be a recipe for mischief, we simply enjoyed riding our bikes and did not
seek out trouble. We discovered a shallow patch of quicksand by one of the
creeks, and once I fell from a tree into a large patch of stinging nettles but
surviving both experiences taught lessons in being aware of the environment. A
few years later, one of my friends began attending youth meetings called "King's
Teens" sponsored by the local Nazarene Church. The lure was a table full of
sweets to be consumed at the end of each meeting. When I saw that table and
since we did not eat like that at home, I made sure to come each week. This led
me to accept Christ and put me on a different course in life.
I began to test the reality of
this God experience. One of the places I rode my bicycle to was a small, local
lake to meet my friends. When I was riding out there one day, a large, vicious
dog pursued me on the way. It was a terrifying experience as he almost caught
me except for an added adrenalin boost. Stray dogs are a common hazard for
cyclists. I had been nipped before by small dogs that had come out of nowhere.
I did not want to experience the bite of a dog as large as I was. I decided
this was a perfect time to try prayer. I asked God to watch over and protect me
on the ride back home. Anxiously I set out, and the large dog was nowhere to be
found along the way. I began to think maybe this God
thing was real.
Entering my mid-teens, money
became a more important part of my life, and I learned I could make money by
delivering papers on a newspaper route. There were two Seattle papers delivered
in our town. One was the evening paper to be delivered after school. Most boys
preferred that so rarely did one of those routes come open. The other paper was
a morning paper that required getting up very early to deliver the papers so
people could read them with morning breakfast. Since getting up so early was
not particularly appealing, there were always routes open for the morning
paper. That is how I found myself getting up early to do my paper deliveries. Early
rising was something I adjusted to. That was not the hardest part of the route.
The most difficult part was the number of adults who could afford to buy a home
and a car but would stiff a poor newspaper boy thirty cents for their monthly
subscription. To this day, I do not understand how people can be so mean.
Especially after an entire month of making sure they got their newspaper clean,
dry, and timely. But I think everyone in business, whether large or small,
learns a lot about the character of the people in their communities. I learned
about cutting my losses and moving on.
The most important lesson I learned
happened early one Sunday. I always picked up my papers from a drop spot where
they would be left by the company in two tightly bound
bundles that I had to cut open to remove the papers. I would do one half of my
route and then return for the other bundle to do the second half. I always
counted all the papers though when I first arrived to make sure there was the
right amount. Sometimes they would even include an extra or two as freebies the
newspaper boys could use to solicit new accounts. But one morning there were no
freebies and worse, I was one paper short for my customers. This was a major
concern as there was no way to obtain another paper to cover the loss. I did
not want to lose a customer over a bundling error at the company. There was
little I could do except deliver what I had. I took the first half and
delivered those papers, all while praying that God would somehow make up the
difference, fully expecting to find the right number of papers when I returned
to the drop point. When I arrived back, I eagerly counted the papers, expecting
a miracle. But my heart fell when I found the count had not changed. A little
depressed and disappointed, I went to deliver the rest of my route. When I came
to the last house, I had no more papers. But as I rode by, I saw a Sunday paper
in their paper box. I praised God all the way home. But as I climbed into bed,
I realized since there were two Seattle papers and both had a Sunday edition,
it might have been the competitor's paper. So, I dressed and rode back to the
house, went up on the porch and pulled the paper from the box and verified it
was the same edition I was delivering. While there may be an answer to what happened
that I do not understand, to me this was an unexplainable miracle, and I began
to trust in God's care and compassion for those who choose to follow him. Since
then, I have experienced other miracles even more amazing to me. I have not
seen people raised from the dead or anyone walking on water, but then I did not
need to, I was already convinced.
Based on my experience, it seems
amazing to me that the miracles of Jesus were not enough to convince the
religious leaders of his day that God had stepped into their lives in a very
real, in-the-flesh, compassionate way. Their religion had become like dry bones.
They were only interested in rules they could use to manipulate the adulation
of the people. They did not understand that God is love. (1
John 4:8) They had a mountain of rules and ordinances that they policed but
never recognized that if God himself is love, then his entire kingdom is founded upon that and reflects his character. They
worshipped the power God represented, believing it could deliver them from rule
by foreigners. But my experiences taught me that God does not produce miracles
to demonstrate his power. He does it to demonstrate his love. When King Herod demanded
Jesus perform a miracle, he wanted to see a demonstration of power. (Luke
23:8) Jesus provided none. In return, Herod mocked him and sent him back to
Pilate. I have sometimes wondered if Herod had sought an act of compassion and
grace, would Jesus have responded positively as he did with the centurion who
had a sick servant? (Matthew
8:5-13) Jesus, for three and a half years of ministry, stood in front of
crowds and rulers performing miracles of compassion, one after another. Still
the people could not see the divinity flashing in every act of grace he did. Some
today refuse to believe, to commit their lives to God's kingdom, because they
do not see miracles in answer to every prayer. But the experience of Christ's
ministry reveals that for those who do not want to believe, even miracles will
not open their hearts. Twice, Matthew tells us that Jesus rebuked those who
sought a sign from him out of their wicked and adulterous hearts. (Matthew
12:39 & 16:4) The only sign such people receive is the sign of Jonah
who was three days in the belly of the fish. In the same way Jesus was crucified, entombed in the earth, and rose on the third
day. But even then, those who choose not to believe are unwilling to commit to
God's kingdom. As Jesus shared in the Parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus, "If
they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even
if someone rises from the dead." (Luke
16:19-31) Jesus continues to seek entrance for his compassion and grace
into our hearts. (Revelation
3:20) Will we open ourselves to him?