On that day it shall be said to Jerusalem:
"Fear not, O Zion;
let not your hands grow weak.
The Lord your God is in your midst,
a mighty one who will save;
he will rejoice over you with gladness;
he will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing.
Zephaniah 3:16-17
Each December, I choose a word or phrase to anchor me in the following year. My word in 2019 was hope — and God, in His all foreseeing wisdom, knew I'd need the "absolute expectation of coming good" as a centerpiece for 2020.
New Year resolutions are a wasteful temptation of self-reliance. God is detoxing me from my self-confidence and continues to snip my strings of pride graciously. Snip, clip, snip. Often, it's painful. Forever, it's worth it.
“Hope is the absolute expectation of coming good based on the character of God.”
Around Thanksgiving, I decided our next blog study would be Song of Songs. The book of Revelation intimidates most Bible teachers. Hear me when I say this: I'd write Revelation 5x before the Song of Songs. The Song is not just about sex; it is about love. It is not only about bodies; it is about whole persons [Ryken]. We have an intense desire for love — a passion that dimly mirrors a more significant and more profound hunger for God's love. It seems unattainable for me to grasp how these eight chapters describe my relationship with God.
“The Song addresses us as broken people who have disordered desires and shows us a glimpse of what ordered desire looks like, while at the same time reminding us just how hard it is to find love like that in this world.”
The Song of Songs is a melody of wholeness. It paints a glorious picture of a deep, covenant relationship between a man and a woman. A connection so rich and deep it seems foreign. And that's why this book intimidates me. If it were a book found outside of the Bible, we'd think it to be secular. However, when kept in its proper context and Biblical boundaries, it is wedded bliss that points to Christ Jesus and His Bride. (That's you, beloved.)
How can we see wholeness when we're so broken? So marred. So jaded by sin, dysfunction, abuse, and disorder. We dream of this single-hearted, lifelong, devoted, and exclusive relationship, yet our sin (which is a type of spiritual adultery) condemns us. The law cannot change our hearts. It can only blame and leave us feeling shame, guilt, and pain.
As the Apostle Paul asked in Romans 7:24, "What a miserable person I am! Who will save me from this body that brings me death?" He answered his question in the next verse: "Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!"
Paul wasn't giving a VBS answer: "Jesus!" He knew [yada' in Hebrew], deep within the holy of holies of his soul, that Jesus was his Redeemer. Christ was Paul's wholeness. Paul's perfection. Paul's love song.
As I write this, I cannot say I know as Paul knew. I know it in my mind, but it has not funneled into my heart. I can say I willingly want to know [yada']. And that is why this search for wholeness is a daring adventure for me.
Wholeness is my word for 2021; and, I believe when it's all said and done, it will be more than a word. It will be a heart song I rejoice in and sing loudly to my Savior, just as He sang over me in Zephaniah 3:16-17. Like Paul, in the holy of holies of my soul, I will know it is truth. I will hope in Him, for He is my absolute expectation of coming good. Amen.
"Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you." Matthew 7:7