Enduring Lessons from the Eclipse

This photo of the eclipsed sun, taken by my daughter,
Amy, shows the corona in its radiant glory.

A few weeks ago, millions across the U.S.A. were enthralled by a total solar eclipse. It was the first to cross the entire nation in 99 years, making it a rarity. Other total eclipses will be seen in parts of the country, we’re told, in 2024, 2045, 2053, 2076 and 2099, so if you missed this one, you’ve still got a shot at seeing one of those. I hear the one in 2099 is going to be a doozie – I can hardly wait!

Some of the eclipse observers arrived to worship Mother Nature, Gaia, or get their crystals recharged. But for some of us, it was a truly spiritual event, a dramatic display of the wonder and majesty of God and His creative powers.

One of those was my friend, Dave in Ellijay, Ga., who drew some interesting parallels between what we could see in nature and biblical truth. Here’s what he wrote:

“As it approached and passed, I saw no one drawing any analogies between the event and the work of the Maker of the event. So, I offer this:

The sun may be likened to God, and the moon to man, whose prime duty is to reflect God in all His affairs; for the moon has no light in itself. But because of sin, the very face of God is obscured by darkness, that existing both in a man and, in a wider sense, the world of men. Yet, even in the deepest darkness of an eclipse, the evidence of the sun is still there, seen in the corona; and the evidence of God exists and is seen by the creature through the witness of the Son of God and the Spirit of Him. And even as the eclipse has its moment and then passes, the moon to once again reflect its sun and not obscure it, so also shall mankind come to reflect God on a coming Day.

And there is yet another analogy to be drawn, that of death itself; for death is but a transitory thing, a cloaking mist, even an illusion – much as our senses would seek to convince us that the sun has actually been darkened, when in reality the masking moon has no effect upon it. Neither eclipse nor death shall last; in Christ alone, Death itself has died and Life now reigns, even if by our eyes it is not yet evident, except the eyes of faith. Those with such eyes see it already and know it is true, awaiting only the passing of the darkness for the full revelation of the light.”

I don’t know about you, but I like Dave’s metaphors. Daniel 12:3 and Philippians 2:15 both talk about God’s people “shining like stars,” being “children of God without fault in a warped and crooked generation.” But the key to the comparison – grammarians would state it’s a simile – is that we’re not stars but like stars. Much like the moon, which shines before us each night not with light of its own, but by reflecting the light of the sun.

Just as 1 John 2:8 declares, “…I am writing you a new command; its truth is seen in him and in you, because the darkness is passing and the true light is already shining.”

Anticipation for the eclipse was building for months, coming to a climax the day of the event. As spectacular as it was, it came and then went in a matter of minutes, our brilliant sun briefly obscured by the moon in a blazing corona of glory, but quickly reappearing in all of its splendor.

As we survey the world around us, darkness seems to be gathering, leading some of us to confusion, fear, even discouragement and despair. But in terms of eternity, this present darkness will dissipate in a comparative “blink of an eye,” as 1 Corinthians 15:52 describes it. Then, as the sun reappeared a few weeks ago, the Son of God also will reappear and the darkness will disperse. “The Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it” (John 1:5). Worth pondering!

Knowing the Bible vs. Knowing the God of the Bible

Recently I read a commentary about a prominent, nationally known individual who, according to a very close friend, “knows the Bible.” An interesting observation about anyone, especially for someone in the public eye.

However, I’ve encountered people over the years who also claimed to know the Bible, yet there was little if any evidence of the presence and power of God in their lives. It’s not my job to judge, of course, but I think a better question is, “Does this person know the God of the Bible?”

Let me offer an analogy: Years ago, I was an avid reader of horror novels. One of my favorite authors was Stephen King. I had read a number of his books, including The Stand, Carrie, The Shining, and The Dark Tower series, which was recently made into a theatrical film. I knew these books very well – in fact, I had twice read the voluminous epic, The Stand, spanning more than 1,000 pages in both its first and second versions.

During my days as a newspaper editor in suburban Houston, Texas, I had an opportunity to meet and interview Mr. King when he was speaking in our area. I leaped at the chance. So, I had read some of his books, met him face to face, and interviewed him for an article in our newspaper. But even after the personal interview, I didn’t really know Stephen King, not as an author and especially not as a person. I gained certain impressions about him, but didn’t know him. He was just one of many famous people with whom I crossed paths during my career.

The same applied for me concerning the Bible and God for many years. As a senior in high school, for whatever reason I set out to read the Bible cover to cover. And that’s what I did, “religiously” reading five chapters a night, starting with Genesis and ending with Revelation. It took about nine months, but I reached my goal.

At the end of that time I “knew” the Bible. I’d read it in its entirety, and had garnered quite a bit of information from it. However, I didn’t know the God of the Bible. I’d grown familiar with the book, but had no personal relationship with its Author.

That changed years later through a series of circumstances. Looking back, I still marvel at the difference it makes knowing the God who inspired the Bible, discovering it’s not a random collection of ancient writings. Instead, I’ve learned it’s the Word of God that clearly and profoundly reveals the heart and character of the One who through His Spirit inspired and directed the human writers who penned its 66 Old and New Testament books.

As 2 Peter 1:20-21 tells us, “Above all, you must understand that no prophecy of Scripture came about by the prophet’s own interpretation of things. For prophecy never had its origin in the human will, but prophets, though human, spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit.”

I’ve read about teachers in theological seminaries, as well as professors of religious studies in large universities, who have diligently read the Bible and claim to “know” it. Yet their conclusions about it demonstrate a pronounced skepticism about its veracity, validity and value.

They would cast doubt on 2 Timothy 3:16-17, which asserts, “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.”

Over the past 40 years or so, I’ve had the privilege of learning about God, Jesus Christ, the Scriptures and their truth from many of the leading Bible teachers and preachers in the U.S.A. and the world, as well as devoted “lay people.” But more than that, I’ve had the joy and humble privilege of getting to know – more and more each day – the God of the Bible.

I’ve concluded the Bible is far more than just a compendium of spiritual knowledge and information. It’s the revealed, eternal, unchanging truth of the living God. Through it, and many experiences in my journey with Him through the years, I’ve also come to know Him. And I’m still striving to know Him even better.

The apostle Paul wrote, as presented in the Amplified Translation of the Bible, “[For my determined purpose is] that I may know Him – that I may progressively become more deeply and intimately acquainted with Him, perceiving and recognizing and understanding [the wonder of His Person] more strongly and more clearly…” (Philippians 3:10).

This has become my personal mission statement, desiring that as a writer, editor, mentor, husband, father, grandfather and friend, I’ll be used as an instrument for helping others in their own quest to do the same.

Next time you hear someone comment about another person “knowing the Bible,” I hope they mean that individual also knows the God of the Bible. There’s a difference – a profound one.

What We Need is More Sincerity – and Less Wax

The song, “Are You Sincere?” was first recorded by crooner Andy Williams in 1958, and later by the ole hound dog himself, Elvis Presley, in 1973. It’s a pretty tune, but it makes me sad – because fewer folks see the merit of sincerity these days.

What would you say it means to be “sincere”? The word comes from the Latin “sincerus,” meaning “clean, pure.” It’s defined as “being without hypocrisy or pretense.” The other day I heard an explanation I like even better: Some claim in the days of antiquity, sincere literally meant “without wax,” from the Latin “sine” (without) and “cera” (wax).

Wax is important for
candles, but for
relationships? Not
so much.

In those days, when pieces of pottery were broken or damaged, they often were patched with wax. Because the wax was transparent, it cleverly concealed a vessel’s flaws. That is, until it was heated and the wax melted. Then it let loose broken pieces it was holding together, or the pottery fell apart entirely. So, when people went to buy fine pottery, or statuary, they insisted it be “sincere” – without wax.

Maybe that’s also a basis for the term, “waxing eloquently.” Because we hear much posturing today, people claiming they’re for or against something, yet observing their lives and actions, there’s a stark contradiction between what they say and what they do. Seems they’re suffering from a severe sincerity shortage.

For instance, people who act as if they’re our best friends, yet in times of need are nowhere to be found. Folks who say, “I’ll call you,” but never do. True, sincere friends are there for each other, no matter what. As Proverbs 17:17 says, “A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for adversity.”

Public officials speak effusively about the poor and their plight. Then they retreat to secured, multi-million dollar compounds that isolate them from the “normal” world. Entertainers denounce what they believe to be climate change or global warming, while jaunting about in private jets and yachts that produce more harmful emissions than the average person can produce in a year’s time.

I’ve heard people bemoan how poorly native Americans have been treated over the centuries. And they have. But how many “bleeding hearts” are personally addressing needs on Indian reservations, where suicide rates and alcoholism soar far above the national average?

Sadly, sometimes the Church also displays a sincerity deficit. We hear a stirring sermon about loving our neighbor, or doing to others as we would have them do to us, then proceed to eat out, where we complain about a server that’s having a bad day. Or instead of giving a reasonable tip, leave behind a religious tract instead. Those who serve us might have a spiritual need, but they also have bills to pay.

We praise God for our many blessings, yet when the preacher speaks about biblical stewardship, or what the Scriptures teach about money, we inwardly groan, then reach protectively for our wallets as if he’s a stealthy pickpocket. Or someone comes to us with a tangible need but we respond, “We’ll pray for you.” Here’s what the Bible says about that:

“Suppose a brother or a sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace; keep warm and well fed,’ but does nothing about their physical needs, what good is it?” (James 2:15-16).

One of the best stories I’ve heard about someone who repented of his own insincerity was a friend, Bob. He had started a Christian ministry to the poor in the inner city and each day would commute from his upper-middle-class residence in the suburbs. Then he recognized the credibility gap he had created by claiming to care for the needy, yet being unwilling to live among them.

Trusting God was leading them to do so, Bob and his wife moved from comfortable suburbia to “the ‘hood,” even though the area’s high crime rate made it seem an unsafe place for raising children. The ministry flourished, and he was embraced by the community as one of their own, all because they could see his commitment to them was sincere.

Why is this important? Because as Romans 12:9-10 states, “Love must be sincere…. Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves.”

It’s easy to demonstrate kindness and show “love” to others when it’s convenient or serves our purposes. But what about when it’s inconvenient, we can’t anticipate a benefit in return, or it involves personal sacrifice. How sincere is our love or concern then?

Sincerity was a hallmark of the early Church. Acts 2:46 describes this: “Every day they continued to meet together in the temple courts. They broke bread in their homes and ate together with glad and sincere hearts.” This is one reason the ranks of Christ followers multiplied exponentially in a very short time – long before much of the Bible as we know it had been compiled. Their sincerity manifested the reality of Jesus to others, attracting many to Him.

As we’re told in 1 Peter 1:22, “Now that you have purified yourselves by obeying the truth so that you have sincere love for each other, love one another deeply, from the heart.” In other words, love “without wax.”