My Dear Shepherds,
Our neighbors do not see Christians as we really are. They may know of our faith. They may recognize—even admire—that we’re different. But we walk in convincing Halloween costumes of beggars, fools, or ghosts.
But as Halloween prepares the way for All Saints Day, we hang those lowly costumes on the foyer coat hooks when we gather for our weekly All Saints worship services. Then we greet one another in our Sunday best, dressed by Christ in resurrection finery.
Since Psalm 92 is identified as “For the Sabbath,” Jews recite it both morning and evening of every Shabbat. It reminds God’s oft-beleaguered, chosen people who they really are, or could be. Now, thanks to Christ, these words describe us also:
You have exalted my horn like that of a wild ox; fine oils have been poured on me. My eyes have seen the defeat of my adversaries; my ears have heard the rout of my wicked foes. (Ps. 92:10-11)
Just look at us! Reveling in our God-given strength like a bison tossing his head, lowering our heads to receive the high honor of God’s own anointing oil, celebrating our Savior who “disarmed the powers and authorities … triumphing over them by the cross.” It’s no wonder outsiders don’t recognize our high standing. We can hardly believe it ourselves.
When our congregations gather each week, one of our purposes is to celebrate what God has made of us. So the Holy Spirit enlists worship leaders, pray-ers, and preachers. We lead God’s people in strapping songs and faith-filled prayers. We anoint God’s beloved people with assurances of his delight and blessings. We remind our besieged or weary saints that “we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.” We delight in their robes of righteousness and their crowns of beauty.
Of course, none of us were transformed by pulling up on our own bootstraps. Verse seven says, “The wicked spring up like grass.” We were doomed to that dry destiny but look what Christ has made of us:
The righteous will flourish like a palm tree, they will grow like a cedar of Lebanon; planted in the house of the LORD, they will flourish in the courts of our God. (vv. 12-13)
A kingdom axiom says the righteous always flourish, “like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither.” Considering that, what great work we pastors have been given! We are like kingdom arborists, attending to righteous believers planted in the courtyard of God’s high and holy temple. We are gardeners in God’s re-creation of Eden, his arboretum of saints.
Dale Haney has been the head gardener at the White House for 50 years. He has some 400 trees under his care, not to mention countless other plants. He’s nicknamed some of the trees and he guards them with the vigilance of the Secret Service.
God entrusts us with the saints who, given grace and time, are destined to become like stately, fruitful palms and fragrant, strong cedars. We also have God’s vines and “oaks of righteousness,” which he has planted “for the display of his splendor.”
It’s a tall order, isn’t it—helping Christians see who they really are, and nurturing them to grow tall and strong. One of my favorite verses overflows with the promise of fruitfulness to cheerful givers, which pastors certainly must be:
And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work. (2 Cor. 9:8)
Be ye glad!
