Perceiving the Fingerprints of God: Part Four
“Perceiving God’s Good Work Right Now!”
Ezekiel 27:1-10, 1 Corinthians 13
A Sermon by Thomas J. Boone, PhD
Delivered at Central Presbyterian Church, Mobile, July 1, 2007

Let me tell you of a woman named Julie. To look at her you’d see a body crippled by arthritis to the point where she can’t walk without assistance. She is dependent on her friends because she has no living relatives to take care of her. She comes to church faithfully, but the sight of her evokes pity. That is, if you don’t know her. In reality, despite the pain of her life and all her dependence, Julie found the river in her desert, and became a river for other people in their deserts. To know Julie is to know a pray-er. When she prays, things move. She may not be able to do any other ministry, but she can pray. You may have been praying for months about something, but when Julie starts to praying about it, things happen. People who know Julie don’t see the arthritis or the dependence they only see the privilege they have to share their needs with a saint on earth who may be crippled physically, but is a spiritual warrior.

Breathing in the dust and hot air of a drought-dry land, walking aimless and parched: That’s what it feels like to be in the desert. Israelites knew what desert living was all about so for them Isaiah’s description and Ezekiel’s vision were more than allegories, they were realities easily applied to their spiritual journey. They knew how easy it was to become overwhelmed by the severity of a desert so they trained themselves to identify the river buried underneath the sand. What has been, or is, your desert? Have you found the river beneath it?

Rivers in the desert, ways through the wilderness--It’s easy to lose track of what God’s doing right now. Pressures come upon us from the outside, sometimes in insurmountable ways. That manager that doesn’t relent on sales goals. That principal whose poor administrative decisions contribute only to your frustration as a teacher. The school bully that makes going to school a nightmare. The rising cost of medication so that if you’re not on the right medical plan every day is a choice between bread and bills. Our grown children whose decisions make us weep and cause us struggle with the implication of what letting go means.

Pressures build internally, too, because our decisions can gnaw away at our peace. The destructive force of addiction can leave streaks no matter how often we try to clean up the picture with Windex. Double lives that arise from deep confusion will make us think that sawdust is nourishment. Work decisions we make for the sake of good business can be the same decisions we confess on a Sunday morning. Financial stress that give us acid reflux at night and keeps us dependent on medication.

Dry bones-living--No one wants it, but it finds us all. If you find yourselves focused on your dry-bones reality then the good news for you is it doesn’t have to be that way. Each of us can be like Julie who shifted her focus away from the desert of her physical condition to the praying she could do in the midst of her disability and it became a river not only for her, but for many others. What is your God-given river even if you’re in the desert?

The more we focus on ourselves in the desert or our miserable wilderness condition the less we’ll be able to perceive the power and hope that God has given us. I do a lot of working out at the gym because it keeps me healthy, but I notice that it’s so easy to become focused on the wrong things. Mirrors surround the gym floor serving as an ever-present reminder that the body is the focus. Muscles never seem to be big enough, grunts never seem to be loud enough, and competition to have the 6 or 8 pack abs abounds. The more focused people at the gym get on their own bodies, the less they seem satisfied with their condition. It reminds me of something that Max Lucado wrote, and which I have to remind myself of often, “Occupy yourself with the nature of God, not the size of your biceps,” if you want to have fulfillment.

Shifting our perspectives from what we’re encountering in life to what we can encounter in Christ is the key to experiencing the life that God wants us to have.

There’s a story of a man who was a rock-climber. I say “was” not because he’s dead, but because he’s no longer able to climb. In fact, he’s no longer able to walk or move his hands. He fell a distance that should’ve killed him, but instead he was rescued from the base of the mountain and he lived. His is not a story of an amazing healing, although that’s what people prayed would happen. His is the story of a miracle that happened when he shifted his focus from his new existence as a quadriplegic to the reason God kept him alive. He can’t use his body, but he can talk, so he’s given his testimony to youth by the thousands. And it’s a testimony that rocks their world. He tells youth they need to focus on Jesus rather than themselves because one day they’ll only have Jesus. When life becomes a valley of dry-bones, what will be your focus?

In a recent book, John Piper admits that it’s easy to get focused on ourselves rather than on Jesus, but that when we do we find that joy doesn’t come very easily. Because we live in a world ruled by the Enemy of God it’s tempting to focus on what drains life rather than Who gives life. It can be a hard fight to experience true joy.

If you doubt what I’m saying try trading in an addiction for a complete surrender to Christ. Or try blocking all bitterness and evil anger with a simple shift of focus onto Christ. Or try battling depression with consistent prayer. Joy is perhaps the hardest fight we’ll ever face, Piper admits (When I Don’t Desire God, 2004).

Each of us needs to be reminded that God is doing a new thing in our midst right now. Where we may wander in a wilderness, God is wondering why we can’t see the path He’s already made. Where we may be overwhelmed by the dryness of the desert, God is asking “Can’t you see this river that you’re walking right next to?”

What is your valley of dry bones, your desert, or your wilderness? Maybe it’s loneliness: your beloved died years ago and you daily struggle against the pain of being without him or her. The one you married let you down and traded you in for another person, or for a career. Loneliness is a painful desert. But, God has put a river in your desert. He wants you to know that He’s completely sufficient as the primary relationship in your life.

Maybe rather than loneliness yours is the wilderness of being busy. How many of you struggle with the thought that unless you’re busy your value diminishes. We’re products of our culture so it’s natural for us to think this way. From school to career to sports, our culture equates value with work. So, we work hard and create a desert because soon we wake up and wonder where our families went, or wonder why we’re alone, or get tired of never having enough.

Focus on a promotion and you may get it, sell yourselves for greater performance or more awards and you may get them. Center your church experience on greater glitz and you may acquire that. But in the midst of this desert Christ has provided the river of simplicity and quiet. “Be still,” He says, “and know that I am God.” The Son of God didn’t have a place to lay his head at times but with His focus on God he knew life. Centering yourself on Christ rather than rushing to satisfy this world may not make you popular, but it will sustain you through your wilderness.

Of all the prayers over my life that I have come to appreciate most are the ones that ask NOT to remove circumstances from me, but for me to know God’s peace and joy through the circumstances. I don’t want to be light about this and I want to be clear. I hate my wilderness moments. I despise my deserts. One reason I long for heaven is the hope that I have that in heaven I will never face another wilderness or desert ever again. I can’t even imagine how absolutely incredible that will be. But, in the meantime, I’ve learned to see the wilderness as an opportunity to see the life and promise of God more clearly.

Ezekiel saw some dry bones in a wilderness and God showed him a vision of renewal. Paul saw the reality of a broken Corinthian church and showed them a vision of renewal in love. The good news in which we participate right now is not that God promises us renewal, but that He has already renewed us if only we could see it.

When there are dry bones surrounding you, can you perceive God’s promise for renewal or do you become overwhelmed by the false reality that death is more powerful than life? When you see too much disunity, corruption, sin, arguments, or self-absorption around you do you throw up your hands in disbelief that God will fulfill His promise? Perceiving the good work that God is doing right now means that we say no to the Deceiver and yes to the Resurrector. Perceiving the river in your desert doesn’t mean that life’s tumult will end immediately; it means you don’t allow it to replace Christ. The only way you can say with confidence, “I know my redeemer liveth,” is that His face alone has sustained you in your desert.

Formerly a hostage in Lebanon during the 1980’s, Ben Weir describes his 495-day captivity in harsh ways. But, more amazing than the horrific tales he weaves are his words of God’s grace in those harshest of moments. His chains, he says, became his rosary beads as he learned the power and joy of a faith that replaced constant physical pain with constant love for Jesus as he waited on God to act. What are the chains that bind you, which can become your rosary?

The greatest gift you can give yourself is to learn to be focused more and more upon Christ. The greatest gift you can give your children is not to drag them into Christ, but to give them a glimpse of what a Christ-centered life is like. The greatest gift you can give your spouse is to commit yourself to a Christ-centered marriage. The greatest gift you can give each other is to center yourself on Christ, and let him guide your way through even your most fearful of moments. And, this is the greatest gift you can give those who come here hungry for good news. What a model you’d be to those who need to know the way to peace.

Isaiah 43:15-19 has been the focus for the sermons over the past few weeks because it reminds us of three basics of our faith. First, no matter what trial you face, God is more powerful than it. Second, because God is able to lay to waste any fear you face you are a victor. God has destined each of you for life not death and it will happen. Third, God has already provided, so the issue for us is merely a question about our focus. It may take a while for that way in the wilderness to become visible, but maturity of faith is a product not of immediate answers but of the endurance, patience, and fortitude of our focus on Christ, which is the message of 1 Corinthians 13.

“I believe” wrote C.S. Lewis, “that the old stab, the old bitter-n-sweet has come to me as often and as sharply since my conversion as at any time of my life whatever. But I now know that the experience…had never had the kind of importance I once gave it. It was valuable only as a pointer to something other and outer” (Surprised By Joy, p. 238). Your bitter-n-sweets may differ one from the other, but the question is usually the same. How does a simple man or woman stop focusing on the tumult and start focusing on Christ? When the desert has been long, and the way is marred by thorns, it takes nothing short of a miracle. But, and here’s the wonderful news, it’s because it takes a miracle that we can praise God that Jesus is in the miracle-making business. If it’s a miracle you need, then let’s pray to the God who makes miracles happen. Let’s pray ... [close with Hallelujah. Amen.]