My
1960’s childhood neighborhood had lots of kids, and we did all sorts of things.
The hilly terrain, loaded with trees, shrubs, and houses, was great for
hide-and-seek. I have a vague recollection of once playing a variation of red rover
and, being the smallest and youngest in the group, I was chosen last. Nothing
strengthens a child’s self-esteem as much as being a leftover. In the winter we
played some hockey on slick driveways or, if weather conditions dumped enough
rain in our back yards right before a hard freeze, on the ice. Although it was
fun to slap the puck around, I was never very good with skates because my
ankles were always too wobbly. Ditto with roller blading later in life. At the time,
there were also oodles of games being played involving old west or war themes. We
did a lot of riding around on bicycles, too, and it was on those machines that
I first figured out how to do some work on mechanical devices. Let’s not forget
the sports, either.
Playing
catch was an option, and it was OK as long as you had a glove and knew how to
use it. I’ve always enjoyed sports with paddles or racquets, and we had a
badminton net in our back yard. During my high school years most people found
that they could not beat me in a ping-pong match. Actually, I remember only one
loss, and that was when I worked at a Christian camp one summer. A permanent
staff member and I were the finalists in the camp staff tournament. I played very
aggressive, very hard-hitting offense, and he played the best defensive game
I’ve ever seen. It was extremely close, and he beat me by letting me beat
myself. Boy, he was great! I haven’t played much in quite a few years, and I
think the loss of flexibility in my back (due to back surgery) would make a
difference. Plus, there are the other things that affect 61-year-old people.
And
then there was football. The games in my early childhood seemed to me to be
somewhat haphazard, and I think that was primarily because I didn’t understand
the game at the time. I’m not entirely sure that the other kids did, either,
but they sure behaved like they did. I still had fun running around with everyone
else. There was a set of shoulder pads and a helmet that fit me; both were
presumably left over from when my brother had played with them. The male ego
kicks in early in life, and I remember looking in the mirror and liking what I
saw when I had the shoulder pads on: I was quite the he-man. The one thing I
remember the most about neighborhood football, though, occurred one bright,
sunny day in the area where our front yard met that of our neighbors. Through
some odd discontinuity in the space-time continuum, I ended up with the
football. I didn’t understand what I was supposed to do with it, and so I
simply ran around with it, trying to get away from everybody else. Perhaps I
had been influenced by Curly in The Three
Stooges short film Three Little Pigskins. At any rate, the predictable thing
happened: I found myself at the bottom of a large pile of children. Everybody
else found this quite humorous, and perhaps I did, too, briefly, before I
realized that the weight of the pile was making it difficult for me to breath. I
looked around and saw arms and legs and feet, and I couldn’t get out: I was
trapped.
Endurance
involves both difficulty and time. I had no choice: I was forced to endure
until the pile was gone, and it seemed like it took forever. From that point
forward I was much more careful about getting involved in football. Prisoners
of war are sometimes forced to endure unspeakable acts of cruelty for long
periods of time, and those that survive deserve to be admired. Honorable people
are outraged at the cowards that inflict such things.
On
the other hand, endurance can also involve choice. About 30 years ago I had a
friend that offered to take me with him on a long-distance bike ride. The route
was about 65 miles round trip, and went from near where I lived in Greenville
to the top of Caesars Head, one of the Appalachian Mountains in
South Carolina. He was a very experienced road biker, he assured me that I
could do it, and so I agreed. It was a cloudy Saturday, and it was supposed to
rain, but we left, anyway. We were about 16 miles into the trip when the rain
started. It rained, and then stopped, and then started up again, and then
stopped again. Like us, it continued cycling throughout the day, and sometimes
it poured, and poured, and poured. Mind you, I was expending a lot of energy,
and I was glad to get cooled off, but there were times when I got cold. Nevertheless,
we were determined, and it poured when we got to the top of Caesars Head. I
chose to endure, and we rode the entire 65 miles. I was proud of myself, and he
bought me an official Rain Ride patch to commemorate the occasion.
Nobody
understands God completely. The Bible teaches that God is triune, existing as
three persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. While I commune with all three,
I’m still mystified that He exists like this. The idea of being indwelled by
the Holy Spirit must sound really bizarre to people that don’t know God, but
the fact is, all of God’s children are indwelled by Him. What negative things
does the Holy Spirit experience while indwelling Brian Vogt?
First,
let’s not forget that God is completely holy, pure and unstained by sin. He is
exquisitely sensitive, much more so than any human being. God is very gentle,
and He does not like to come down hard on His children, and does so only when
He knows that it is necessary. Sometimes He speaks very, very quietly, like one
of the times after He showed his power to Elijah. God said
“Go out and stand on the
mount before the LORD.” And behold, the LORD passed by, and a great and strong
wind tore the mountains and broke in pieces the rocks before the LORD, but the
LORD was not in the wind. And after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was
not in the earthquake.
And after the earthquake a
fire, but the LORD was not in the fire. And after the fire the sound of a low
whisper.
(I Kings 19:11-12 ESV)
Second,
let’s remember that Brian Vogt is still a sinner. Yes, he is a sinner saved by
grace, but he is still a sinner. While God tells him to be gentle, sometimes he
is not. Patience is not just a virtue—he has been commanded to be so. And yet,
sometimes Brian is very impatient, particularly when driving in traffic. He is
sometimes covetous, or envious, or angry, or is not meek, or is not thankful,
or is selfish, or is unkind, or…. You see, although over the years God has done
a marvelous work of transforming Brian, He is not done with him yet.
Third,
let’s remember that the Holy Spirit can be grieved. He abhors sin, recoils from
it, and detests being around it more than you hate being around whatever it is
that bothers you more than anything else.
And do not grieve the Holy
Spirit of God,
by whom you were sealed
for the day of redemption.
(Hebrews 13:5 ESV)
Without
exception, the Holy Spirit is deeply grieved every time Brian sins. Do you see
the parallels? That father is deeply disturbed by his son’s thinking. So, too,
the Holy Spirit is grieved by some of Brian’s thinking. That father knows that
his son will face consequences, and he is saddened by the thought. So, too, the
Holy Spirit is saddened by what Brian will face if he does not change. That
father detests the conflict he experiences with his son. So, too, the Holy
Spirit detests the conflict He experiences when Brian fights against him. That
father chooses to endure anguish because he loves his son, and cannot bear the
thoughts of what will happen if he doesn’t change. So, too, the Holy Spirit
chooses to endure anguish so that He can continue to change Brian. That father
chooses to dwell with his son, even though at times it is very difficult. So,
too, the Holy Spirit chooses to dwell within Brian, even though at times it is
difficult beyond human comprehension.
…He
has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.”
(Hebrews
13:5 ESV)
