Grandeur of the Nations

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Written by: Don Goulding

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They will bring the grandeur and the wealth of the nations into it, but nothing ritually unclean will ever enter into it, nor anyone who does what is detestable or practices falsehood, but only those whose names are written in the Lamb’s book of life. (Revelation 21:26, 27)

South Americans are lovers of life. They samba dance at fiestas, shout at soccer matches, and weep in cathedrals. Latinos fill life with passion.

Africans engage God’s creation. Soil, rain, animals, and fire are celebrated with rhythm and bold harmony. Africans extol God for his gifts.

Asians are masterful artists. For millenniums they’ve refined calligraphy, music, and bonsai gardening. Asians reflect God through the art of graceful living.

Europeans polish hospitality. A European is in his element when he can give a proper day of sport, thrice kissed cheeks, or a fifty-year-old port. Like their heavenly Father, they give their best.

North Americans run hard at life. They know the value of their short years and invest themselves fully. They take God seriously when he says to multiply their talents.

In every culture there is an “ism”—as in Americanism or Europeanism—that’s as holy as it is unique. Sift away our sinful fear of human diversity and what remains are the mosaic pieces that adorn heaven. The people listed in the book of life will bring this purified variety into our new home.

Like the magi who brought gold, incense, and myrrh from their respective countries, we will bring the grandeur of our nations as gifts of eternal worship.

Prayer: Father of all, I embrace your love of human diversity.

Surrounded

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Written by: Don Goulding

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You squeeze me in from behind and in front;
you place your hand on me.
Your knowledge is beyond my comprehension;
it is so far beyond me, I am unable to fathom it. (Psalms 139:5, 6)

I’m alone in North America’s Sierra Mountains. Fir trees sway among madronas, rising from a floor of crunchy leaves and needles. I inhale the tang of pine resin, and hear the song of robins. In my rapture, I’m oblivious to the commotion of ten thousand insects, spiders, and worms all around me.

The fact that bugs make up ninety-five percent of the world’s animal species goes unnoticed by me. What’s more, the bacteria, spores, and protozoa I carry outnumber the actual cells in my body. Below me are insects and microorganisms, above is the spiritual realm, and all I bother with is my own narrow slice from the spectrum of life.

Jesus reigns over much more than I fathom. The Bible says he holds together all physical and spiritual creation. If he is present in this moment to sustain those billions of organisms and beings, then he is easily able to govern my small world too.

Nothing can get to me without going through Jesus first. It doesn’t matter if I find myself in the most forsaken corner of the world or overrun by demonic hordes, he will never ever let go of the real me in my spirit.

My Savior’s guardianship frees me from an obsession with self-preservation. By his hand on my shoulder, I am made into an invincible spiritual superhero.

Prayer: Surrounding Jesus, I give responsibility for protection to you.

Forced Labor

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Written by: Don Goulding

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Whenever the Israelites were strong militarily, they forced the Canaanites to do hard labor, but they never totally conquered them. (Joshua 17:13)

I stood in front of seventy white garbed pastors in Ponneri, India, and my typed message shook in my hand. On the right side of the sanctuary, their wives reverently covered their heads, dressed with the colors in a jellybean jar. I wrestled as the Spirit urged me to abandon my prepared notes.
“Matthew six pierces my soul,” I said. “Because of my thoughts, I’m the murderer, adulterer, and hater that Jesus spoke of. I confess to you brothers and sisters, I’m a failure and unworthy to teach you.”
Then I asked all the pastors to turn in their Bibles to Luke. “But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’”
Our team later discovered a spirit of pride had been lurking among the Ponneri pastors. As shocked as they were by my confession, God used it to show them that they, too, needed to crawl before the throne and beg for mercy.
Arrogance fled the room, and the Holy Spirit manifested in the Indian practice of power clapping. They pushed all their worship through their hands in frantic applause. At the height of the holy din, the walls opened up and our enthusiasm melded into the larger praise in heaven.
The Israelites were unable to destroy the sinful Canaanites that formerly occupied their land. The next best thing was to force them into servitude. Try as I might, I’ve been unable to destroy my sinfulness. I have no option but to beg for mercy. But once my failure is moved to the cross, I can force it to further labor for God’s glory.
When I confess the secret of my own insurrection, others see that I survive because of grace alone. Like the Israelites, I can use my mistakes to carry the water of hope to thirsty souls so they, too, can receive Christ’s pardon.
Prayer: Holy One, use my weakness to show your strength.
  1. Near
  2. By Name
  3. Shun Decay

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