Writers In The Storm

No one will ever accuse me of being a Martha–just one look at my house and you’d know that peeling paint and dusty shelves aren’t the focus of my attention. Nor do I care to dictate to others what work they should be doing, because then I’d have to oversee the mundane jobs and that’s not how I find fulfillment or experience joy. No, Mary had the good life–sitting at Jesus’ feet without even worrying about what to fix for supper. She could focus on adoring Him, probably because Mary was well aware that the One she worshipped had not too long ago provided a meal for thousands. Meal preparation wasn’t a consideration when she sat at the feet of Jesus.

At His footstool, everything slips into focus. Pausing in His presence transports us to true reality and provides an eternal perspective of life. When we yield our lives at His feet we don’t get tangled in the trivial cares that so often swallow our moments on earth. As we listen to the treasures He shares with us, look into His face, and adore Him, even our overwhelming cares diminish to dust.

I admit I sympathize with Martha, because let’s face it–we all get hungry and want to be fed. Someone has to do the cooking. Yet I suspect Martha missed some blessings by choosing to worry over cuisine instead of joining Mary at the feet of Jesus. By foregoing those moments adoring the God of the universe, I also have a hunch she missed witnessing Jesus serve up a miracle with a meal.

The Catholic church of my youth taught me to reserve adoration for Christ alone. His mother, Mary, deserved my honor, but not my adoration. I can’t say if that position is current, as my name faded long ago from their mailing list. The notion, however, stuck with me.

Christ alone.

Not my husband, not my son, not even my flea-friendly, diabetic feline merits my worship. While I may tritely refer to one of the above as “adorable”, none are worthy of the reverent outpouring of my soul. Least of all my cranky old cat.

Lyrics from a few Christmas carols serve to remind me that He came here — Emmanuel, God with us — for the express purpose of saving me from eternal damnation. More than a little gratitude is in order.

      O come, let us adore Him . . . O Come all Ye Faithful

       Come adore on bended knee . . . Angels We Have Heard on High

      Christ, by highest heav’n adored . . . Hark the Herald Angels Sing

Christ alone.

The angels knew this. They refused to be worshipped, except for Lucifer, and it brought neither him, nor us, any peace. In the book of Revelation (19:9-10), the apostle John is given instruction by an angel to take some notes for our benefit:

      Then the angel said to me, “Write: ‘Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb!’”
      And he added, “These are the true words of God.” At this I fell at his feet to worship him.
      But he said to me, “Do not do it!
      I am a fellow servant with you and with your brothers who hold to the testimony of Jesus.

      Worship God! For the testimony of Jesus is the spirit of prophecy.”

Christ alone.

He accepts my worship because I am not my own. I was bought with a price. He died in my place, for my sin. For His sacrifice, He lays sole claim to my worship, my highest love, my adoration. Now and forever.

Jayme mentioned the ACTS (Adoration-Confession-Thanksgiving -Supplication) format for prayer. The next four weeks we’ll continue our discussion on prayer with a closer look at the ACTS model.

So, join us for this week’s topic: Adoration