By Michael E. Brooks

"For the hearts of this people have grown dull. Their ears are hard of hearing, and their eyes they have closed, lest they should see with their eyes and hear with their ears, lest they should understand with their hearts and turn, so that I should heal them" (Matt. 13:15).

In the early 1990s I worked in a campaign in Crabwood Creek, Guyana with Rick Hale, Stan Little, and several other North Americans. Rick and Stan were physical opposites, Rick standing less than five feet, six inches in height and Stan measuring a full six feet, seven inches. Rick was slender, and Stan was husky, weighing well over 250 pounds. One evening as we prepared for our preaching service an older Guyanese lady pointed to the front of the tent and asked me, "is that Brother Hale?" I looked and replied, "no, that is Stan Little." She shook her head and said, "All you Americans look alike to me."

Stereotypes and prejudices are common to all of us. We have our pre-formed opinions and facts have a hard time penetrating. So often we see what we expect to see, or we hear what we want to hear. Understanding is difficult, because our minds are not truly open. Sometimes it is like the case of the lady in Crabwood Creek – we don't learn because we have already decided we cannot learn. We limit ourselves. In other cases we place the limitation outside ourselves. With regard to people we decide that others are not worthy of our effort. There is no important difference, so why should we bother to try to distinguish? Or we may apply these principles to knowledge and understanding. In the first case, we think, "I just can't understand; it is all too deep for me." In the second we reason, "there is no absolute truth; it doesn't matter what I believe. God will accept my sincerity."

Jesus noted these prejudices among the religious leaders of his day. Their minds were already made up and they had ceased to listen or learn from others. They stood condemned before God because of their unwillingness to open their minds to his revelation in Christ. We look back and judge them, noting their pride, selfishness and hypocrisy. But do we guard ourselves from the same temptations?

God's revelation is complete. The faith has been "once for all delivered to the Saints" (Jude 3). So we become smug in our certainty that we "know the truth and the truth [has made us] free" (John 8:32). But one fact does not necessarily follow from the other. It is true that all necessary truth has been revealed. It is not certain that we know and understand that truth perfectly. In fact it is certain that we do not. "Therefore let him that thinks he stands take heed lest he fall" (1 Cor. 10:12). God's truth is infinite, far beyond any human ability to fully comprehend. Our knowledge is finite and our obedience is imperfect. Our path to faithfulness is not self-righteous assurance that we have perfect understanding or full obedience, but rather that of humble, penitent reliance upon God's mercy.

"If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:8-9).

By Michael E. Brooks

"And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to his purpose." (Romans 8:28)

The taxi driver in Charity, Guyana was talking to the local preacher as we went to the airport to leave his city. "I am a fatalist," he said, "what will be will be." I could not resist entering their conversation, saying, "You don’t believe that." His reply was firm, "Oh, yes I do, whatever is going to happen will happen; there is no changing it." "In that case," I said, "take your hands off the steering wheel, close your eyes and keep driving. If you are going to have a wreck it will happen whether you watch or not; if you are not going to have a wreck it will not happen even if your eyes are closed." He thought a minute, gave a rueful smile, and kept driving, eyes open, hands on the wheel.

Fatalism is the conviction that we are helpless before the future – it will do as it wills. But more than that, it is the abdication of responsibility for the future. I can do nothing to influence it, therefore why bother trying? Live for the moment, do what I want; it will all work out according to the intended purpose. There is freedom in irresponsibility, and millions seize it gladly. Let the future take care of itself; we will live for the present.

But fatalism is obviously flawed. We do influence our futures, and that of others. A moment's carelessness causes a traffic accident. Without the careless behavior the accident would not happen. Science has repeatedly established cause–effect relationships and our experience proves them daily. The Bible affirms, "whatever a man sows, that he will also reap" (Galatians 6:7). That this is true in physical matters is indisputable. Its application to the intangible (spiritual, moral, ethical) is a matter of logic to the thoughtful person and of faith to the one who accepts inspiration of Scripture.

However, the fatalist rightly insists no one can control his future. One may influence it, but he cannot dictate its outcome. And this becomes a dilemma to the person of faith who, like Job, seeks to assure success with right living but becomes a victim of someone else’s consequences. If my righteousness cannot guarantee me happiness why should I strive? The righteous does suffer. "[It rains] on the just and on the unjust" (Matthew 5:45). Would I not be just as well off living the life of the unrighteous?

The answer lies in the basic goodness and love of God, and in his providential power. "All things work together for good…" This is not the simplistic statement that everything is good, that the righteous will never know sorrow or pain. It is rather the bold faith in God that trusts him to bring it to a loving conclusion in his own time. Through sickness, poverty, war, famine or any other circumstance of life, God is with us. His love and power assure us that "in whatever state [we] are, [we can] be content" (Philippians 4:11). Bad things may happen to us, but they are not the final conclusion. God is sovereign, and he "is not mocked" (Galatians 6:7). So we place our trust in God’s mercy and love, endure patiently "our light affliction, which is but for a moment" (2 Corinthians 4:17), and "make it our aim...to be well pleasing to him" (2 Corinthians 5:9).

"If God is for us, who can be against us? … neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Romans 8:31, 38-39).

By Michael E. Brooks

“When I consider Your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have ordained…” (Psa. 8:3)

The skies over southern rural Bangladesh are different from those where I have lived most of my life. Looking up into the stars, seeing the beautiful moon – this is a moving experience anywhere, anytime. But remove the lights of a metropolitan area, and the pollution of industrialized regions, and they become even more amazing and awe-inspiring. The stars seem even more numerous, the moon so near as to almost be touchable. And the wonder of God’s power, love and grace is more evident than ever.

Paul taught that the very nature of God is revealed in his creation (Rom. 1:18ff). His wisdom is seen in its intricate design. His power is manifest in its awesome size. His love shines through its beauty and the pleasures the creation provides. Perhaps one reason why so many in our increasingly urbanized world grow remote from God is that we do not commune with his work. We spend our days immersed in the concrete jungle, inside buildings or cars, insulated by air conditioning, never looking up. And our nights are devoted to the television, the theater, the places of artificially constructed entertainment or rest. Bright lights, thick ceilings, busy schedules all shield us from the simple act of looking up and seeing God, or at least the evidence of his existence.

There are still rural villages in this world without electricity, industry, pollution or neon. There are still people whose lives, poor though they may be in the things the world considers vital, are far more attuned to the one who made them. We pity them because of their poverty, hunger, medical needs and other deficiencies - in many senses rightly so. Their physical needs are great, and “development” is much sought after that their suffering might be reduced. But their world is one in which the works of God’s fingers are known and appreciated. And therefore the One who made them is much more easily taught, believed in and accepted. Illiterate they may be of the wisdom of the world, but sometimes they may read the more permanent and important signs far more accurately than others considered much wiser.

The Psalmist looked into the heavens and saw God. When our busy lives overwhelm us and faith wavers, let us get away from the bright lights and obstructions and look into the those same heavens. He who made us is still there, still revealing himself to us, and still waiting to receive us with love and grace.

by Michael E. Brooks

"For the earnest expectation of the creation eagerly waits for the revealing of the sons of God" (Rom. 8:19).

A group of us were traveling in a rhododendron forest high in the mountains of Nepal when one of the men offered the comment, "There are no wild animals in these forests." I asked in some surprise, "Not even any monkeys?" "Well, yes, there are a few monkeys," came the answer, followed by the ironic observation, "Nobody eats monkeys."

The somber fact is all life on this planet is here to some degree at the sufferance of humanity. We have the capacity to denude the earth of almost all other inhabitants. The greatest threats to any animal or plant are the loss of habitat resulting from human population explosion and exploitation or eradication due to its value or lack thereof to humans.

Where do Christians stand on this issue? Does the Bible address our responsibility to the creation? The answer is a resounding "yes."

First, man was given responsibility for creation from the very beginning. God put man in the Garden of Eden "to tend and keep it" (Gen. 2:15). Authority over creation was granted to humans after the flood (Gen. 9:1-3). Biblically, man has the right to use created things, including other animals, for his legitimate needs and purposes.

But there is more than that principle involved. Man's role on earth is that of steward of God's possessions. His authority over creation does not include the right to waste or destroy.

Romans 8:19-22 is a complex passage, with much dispute over its meaning and application. But it certainly includes the teaching that the creation's destiny and fate is bound up with that of mankind. "The creation…will be delivered ... into the liberty of the children of God" (v. 21). The creation is benefited by "the revealing of the sons of God" (v. 19). Christianity blesses God's entire creation. The world is better off because men follow God.

How do we apply that to today's environmental issues? At least, by recognizing that all of creation is God's work, and that he has given man charge to use it productively in accord with his eternal purpose. Being a child of God means being of benefit to the world as a whole. It is a shame when only those things which man won't eat are allowed to remain on our planet.

May we return to tending and keeping this beautiful world which God has made.

By Michael E. Brooks

“From whom the whole body, joined and knit together by what every joint supplies, according to the effective working by which every part does its share, causes growth of the body for the edifying of itself in love” (Eph. 4:16)

Few things are as essential to a sense of well-being as a feeling of worth. We all need to feel wanted, needed, and loved. This can be difficult when we realize that no one is really indispensable, and when we perceive that others are far more talented than ourselves. Am I really important? Does it really matter if I just drop out of the way? Will anyone miss me or care?

Brenda and I were walking the streets of Kathmandu last October, with Daniel Regmi, a preacher from West Nepal, who had come for a series of classes I was teaching. We asked about his parents’ health, and Daniel said, “My mother wanted to come to Sister Brenda’s classes, but no one else could milk the buffalo, so she stayed at home.”

That’s it! That’s her niche. A simple mountain village woman with no education, no wealth, nothing to commend her to the notice of the world. But she can milk the family’s water buffalo – a vital resource for their lives. I am not suggesting that this is the sum of her value. Of course not. But doesn’t it illustrate that “our share” does not have to be some notable achievement or rare talent?

Paul teaches that the church grows and prospers when every one of its members does what God has given them the talent, resources and opportunity to do. I am not responsible for your gifts, nor are you for mine. But I am responsible for my own. Nothing else. Just do my share!