Did you know that today is Ascension Day -- the recognition of the day that Jesus rose to heaven in view of his disciples?

I realize that readership of my blog is pretty evenly split between Europeans and North-Americans (with a few other international readers on the side) -- thus often one person's "Oh really?!?" is another person's "No duh!!" -- but I think it's ironic and interesting to notice which group is likely to know the religious significance of this particular date on the calendar.

By and large, I would absolutely say that North America (and especially the United States of America) is considerably more "religious" and more "Christian" than Europe (well, at least the Netherlands).  Considering everything from church attendance figures to popular music to political debate to bumper stickers and T-shirts seen on the street -- I think it's pretty clear to see God, Jesus, the Church, and Faith in general are much more public and prevalent on the west side of the Atlantic.

And yet, when it comes to celebrating holidays, Europeans are much more "Christian" than Americans.  Eight out of ten national holidays in the Netherlands are Christian holidays:  Good Friday, First and Second Easter, Ascension Day, First and Second Pentecost, and First and Second Christmas.  The only "secular" holidays are New Year's Day and Queen's Day (with an official recognition of Memorial Day thrown in every fifth year)... Oddly enough, when looking at the list of American holidays, the percentage of religious observances is almost exactly the opposite (depending on how you count, i.e. depending upon whose list of holidays you might be looking at).  Employees of the U.S. Federal government get eight secular holidays (New Year's Day, Martin Luther King Junior Day, Presidents Day, Memorial Day, Independence Day, Labor Day, Columbus Day, and Veterans Day) and only two religious holdays (Christmas Day and Thanksgiving -- the second of which is only implicitly/historically religious).  Some employers in the United States give extra time off for Good Friday or Christmas Eve or the day after Thanksgiving -- but even so, the point remains that the observance of holidays represents an unusual flip-flop of cultural priorities, when it comes to the subject of religion and Christianity.

I'm sure there are rational explanations for why the holidays have developed as such in Europe and North America... But I don't understand it.  And in any event, I find it ironic.  I'm not saying that one culture's take on things is more or less correct than another's -- but it's definitely interesting to notice.

Courage and strength.  Courage and strength... I remember this anthem from the beginnings of the Book of Joshua -- but I never really realized that these refrains were being instilled all the way back at the beginning of Deuteronomy as well.  God must have known that these would need to be important armaments for the people of Israel (and particularly the leader of the people of Israel), as they set out on their great campaign to claim the Promised Land.

Courage and strength.  Courage and strength.  In Deuteronomy chapter 1, Moses is told to build up Joshua's courage, in light of the fact that it would be he who would claim Israel's inheritance (Deuteronomy 1:37-40).  In chapter 3, soon after reminding Moses that a glimpse from the top of Mount Pisgah would be the closest that he'd ever get to the Promised Land, God commands Moses to command Joshua:  "Give him courage.  Give him strength.  Single-handed he will lead this people across the river.  Single-handed he'll cause them to inherit the land at which you can only look" (Deuteronomy 3:28).

Courage and strength.  Courage and strength.  It's so necessary for leadership.  It's so necessary for life.  The reiteration of these themes -- summed up in Joshua's "inaugural address" and its repeated charge to "Be strong and courageous" -- has been a powerful encouragement to me throughout the years.  I remember reading the first chapter of Joshua just after I had initially made the decision to go into full-time ministry.  I was facing the intimidating process of raising funds to cover the costs of my ministry in Bowling Green -- and those words from Joshua were life and hope and power to my weak and trembling body.  Courage!  Strength!  I felt empowered by those reminders, and incredibly, God showed up in those days of fund-raising -- enabling a gangly, green, college-graduate to complete the process in about five months.

The encouragements toward courage and strength again came into play some four years later, as I was preparing to move to Amsterdam.  The Atlantic Ocean felt like such a wide and impossible barrier (probably because it was, on the practical level!) -- but then, again "coincidentally" reading through the stories of Joshua's conquest of the Promised Land, I was freshly reminded of God's miraculous interventions to help His people cross the Jordan River (which was, to the Israelites, just as impossible a barrier as my Atlantic Ocean).  Courage and strength!  Courage and strength!  I felt my blood pump faster and more fully through my veins, as I read those words.  Eating up those words from the first chapter of Joshua was like Pacman munching on a power pellet, or Popeye popping a can of spinach, or the Gummi Bears gulping a vial of Gummi Berry Juice.  Somehow, reading the command to be strong and courageous actually made me stronger.  I actually became more courageous.  And then God showed up again, and the Mission Impossible suddenly became the Mission Accomplished.  We raised another boat-load of support.  We sold our house.  We crossed the Atlantic, quite literally, and settled down in the city of Amsterdam.  Again, God supplied all the courage and strength that I needed -- along with all the other more practical stuff to boot.

And now I find myself reading through the Conquest accounts of the Old Testament again -- and as I read the reminders toward courage and strength (in places from the text where I never really noticed them before), I again feel my adrenaline pumping stronger, the timpanic drum beat growing louder, the courage and strength filling my system anew.  The feeling is not unlike my memory of rides on a big yellow school bus, on my way to a high school football game in Norwalk or Bellevue or Upper Sandusky, listening to "pump-up" music on my walkman headphones.  I feel like I'm on the cusp of a great, epic battle.  I'm getting prepared.  I'm ramping up.  I'm rip-raring to go, like a race-horse at the gates.

Could it be mere coincidence that these passages from the Bible are speaking so strongly to me again at just the time when I'm getting ready for another significant stretch of support-raising in the USA?!?  I did not plan my personal Bible study with the current situation in mind -- but it's crazy how such words of encouragement supernaturally fill me for just such a time as this!  Courage and strength!  Courage and strength!  And just when I need it...

I especially appreciate the fact that I'm noticing these anthems further back in the text than what I've previously observed.  Joshua was repeatedly steeped in words of strength and encouragement, apparently, going back years before the First Battle of Canaan ever took place.  That means that it wasn't just some blind rush of psychosomatic chemical responses to an impassioned speech at a particular moment of crisis.  It wasn't some special, one-time, "unique" experience of God's courage and strength.  It was, doubtless, a mix of God's supernatural voice, the encouragement of others, and self-talk reinforcing an acquired belief.  But if anything, this makes the message of courage and strength even more meaningful!  It's something sustained and and repeatedly spoken into cognizance.  It's something that can charge us now, and something that can stay with us into the future.

As long as we remember -- and remind each other -- to be strong and courageous.

It is obvious what kind of life develops out of trying to get your own way all the time: repetitive, loveless, cheap sex; a stinking accumulation of mental and emotional garbage; frenzied and joyless grabs for happiness; trinket gods; magic-show religion; paranoid loneliness; cutthroat competition; all-consuming-yet-never-satisfied wants; a brutal temper; an impotence to love or be loved; divided homes and divided lives; small-minded and lopsided pursuits; the vicious habit of depersonalizing everyone into a rival; uncontrolled and uncontrollable addictions; ugly parodies of community. I could go on...

But what happens when we live God's way? He brings gifts into our lives, much the same way that fruit appears in an orchard—things like affection for others, exuberance about life, serenity. We develop a willingness to stick with things, a sense of compassion in the heart, and a conviction that a basic holiness permeates things and people. We find ourselves involved in loyal commitments, not needing to force our way in life, able to marshal and direct our energies wisely...

Since this is the kind of life we have chosen, the life of the Spirit, let us make sure that we do not just hold it as an idea in our heads or a sentiment in our hearts, but work out its implications in every detail of our lives. That means we will not compare ourselves with each other as if one of us were better and another worse. We have far more interesting things to do with our lives. Each of us is an original.

*     *     *     *     *

I'm not usually one for posting quotes -- much less quotes of text from the Bible -- but these words really struck me today in a fresh way.  Can you guess from which part of the Bible they come?

Let it be said that I trust God's character, as revealed through the Bible. But I have to admit: I have a bit of a hard time with the way Moses was treated at Meribah.

Why did God react so strongly to Moses striking instead of speaking to the rock? Why was that particular incident such a big deal? Couldn't Moses have simply misunderstood the assignment? After all, wasn't it God who put the staff in Moses' hands to begin with that fateful day? What if Moses was just having a bad day? And even if it was willful disobedience, why would that one little act cancel out all the great faith-filled things that characterized the rest of Moses' life? And if Moses was going about things the wrong way at Meribah (regardless of the reasons), why didn't God just withhold the water so Moses could go back to his original instructions and get it right? Why did this become the rope that was used to hang Israel's great leader and deliverer? I really don't get it.

As I read through the story of Moses at Meribah, my primary emotional response is one of anger. Am I going to get busted on some sort of technicality like this, too? And if so, what's the point of even trying to be a good leader? I already know that I have bad days -- even bad weeks, and bad months -- in the course of walking the path of faith, following God as closely as possible. So I have to wonder: Should I even step out across the mine-field, if I know that my chances of being dismembered are so great?

Why would God give us the story of Moses at Meribah? What am I supposed to do with that?!?! 

I came back to my house after a week away. Picked up the scattered pieces of mail in the front entryway. Ritualistically put away the things from my suitcase. Started a load of laundry. Rifled through the mail.

Out of all the various pieces of mail, there was only one hand-written envelope -- so, of course, it was the first one that I opened. And as I read the contents of the envelope, I was touched by the beauty of this hand-made (though seemingly professionally-printed) Easter card. Very simple: a beautiful photograph (or is it a painting?) of a screw through weathered wooden planks, with an original poem printed along the top. And yet very profound. I thought I would share the poem with you:

Hout van God


Delen van die boom
Van goed en kwaad
Mijn oog verblind
Kennis van duizend dromen.

Toen keerde ik terug
naar mijn gestrande schip
Alleen nog wrakhout van de boeg
Lichten van jutters doemen op
Wartaal door de splinters in hun ogen.

Nu zit en pent mijn hart
Op de balken uit mijn ogen
Mijn tranen zullen niet bedrogen.

De Timmermanszoon woog kundig
Zijn kruishout voor mij af
Haaks op mijn bedacht bestek
Oogt het soms één millimeter te lang
Zelfs één millimeter te zwaar?

Zijn adem blies Hij er over uit
En riep: houd moed...

-- Kees Roeleveld, Pasen 2008

I was going to try and provide my own English translation of the poem (and maybe I'll still get around to providing it sometime soon) -- but then I started trying to do it, and I realized how difficult it is to accurately capture the meaning and feeling of poetry in translation.

For now, I'll just leave it at that -- and I'll wish you a very happy Easter.

Christ is risen!