Story Archive November 26, 2004 (Page 2 of 2)

by Don Ruhl

Read Isaiah 65 and 66

Picture in your mind these two images of God. First, from Isaiah 65:1, look at Him wanting to be spotted by the Gentiles,

I was sought by those who did not ask for Me; I was found by those who did not seek Me. I said, 'Here I am, here I am,' To a nation that was not called by My name. (Isaiah 65:1, NKJV).

The image that comes into my mind is God waving His arms, trying to get the attention of a group of people. He is excited and wants them to notice Him. They do not even know who He is, but with His zealous efforts, they eventually know Him and become His people.

There is another group of people whose attention He wants also. He stretches His arms out to them (v. 2), but they turn from Him, doing things that offend Him. They have a holier than thou attitude (v. 5, yes, that expression comes from Isaiah 65:5). Of these people, God says,

These are smoke in My nostrils. (Isa. 65:5, NKJV).

See smoke rising up to the face of God and the smoke enters His nostrils. It repulses Him, that is, they repulse Him.

Do I want God saying to me, Here I am, here I am, or You are smoke in my nostrils? I think that I know your answer. Let us then, not follow our own ways, but let us abandon ourselves and live for God through Jesus Christ.

by Michael E. Brooks

"So they were offended at him. But Jesus said to them, 'A prophet is not without honor except in his own country and in his own house'" (Matthew 13:57).

Nepal is often called "the rooftop of the world" because it is home to many of the high peaks of the Himalayas. On a clear day, one can see snow-capped mountains from almost anywhere in this nation. Their beauty attracts tourists from all over the world, many of whom come over and over again to gaze on these wonders of creation. Trekkers walk in their shadows; mountaineers climb to their peaks; tourists fly around them in small planes, all to enjoy their majesty. But in the midst of all this splendor, the native Nepalis rarely look up. What we marvel at, they take for granted. It is their ordinary scenery -- nothing special.

We have a popular proverb to explain this phenomenon. "Familiarity breeds contempt." That which we see often we cease to be impressed by. Have you noticed that the trees in your backyard are just as pretty as those in far off places? But you may well ignore yours, to stare in rapture at the others. Why? You have "been there and done that" and so have lost interest. While this is understandable, it presents definite dangers.

First, there is the danger of overlooking or rejecting unexpected characteristics. Jesus was not accepted in Nazareth because the home folks just knew he was "only" the carpenter's son. "Where did he get wisdom? He is just like us" was their attitude. It was incomprehensible that he could possess any divine knowledge, much less divine nature. So their eyes were blinded by his familiarity. We, too, can fall into the trap of thinking we know all about some person, idea, or proposal simply because of prior knowledge. Experience should teach us, however, that we have often seen new details in pictures or scenes viewed frequently before. We probably will never exhaust all possibilities, especially in people. Take nothing for granted. Be prepared to discover additional depths.

Second, there is the danger of embracing the new and different, just because it is new and different. The unfamiliar has an attraction to many. Luke says of the intellectuals of ancient Athens that they "spent their time in nothing else but either to tell or to hear some new thing" (Acts 17:21). This fascination with the unfamiliar is not wrong in itself, but if it causes acceptance without proper investigation, it will lead to disaster. In politics, religion, vocations, and even recreation there is often the appeal that "it is time for a change." That may well be true, but change should never be just for change's sake –- it must always be the result of careful investigation and planning.

Finally, there is the danger of being rejected by others because of our own familiarity. Middle-aged spouses no longer strike sparks in the eyes and hearts of their mates. Preachers lose the attention of their audiences after a few years. How do we protect ourselves against such rejection? Obviously, there are limits to the protection we may provide, and the fault or cause is frequently not within the one who is cast off. But one can grow and adapt as time passes so that, while we are the same people, we are not always doing and saying the same things. Marriage counselors advise wise husbands to continue the courtship of their wives. Keep sending flowers, taking them out to dinner, and showing the same (or more) attention as before marriage. Do the occasional unexpected thing. Preachers must continue to study and grow spiritually and in mastery of their craft. Rehashing the same old outlines will not continue to stimulate the congregation. So each of us, whatever our role, can continue to develop and emerge as new talents and qualities are developed. Familiarity does not have to mean boredom. And it does not have to lead to contempt.