And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption.
For quite a few years I had been enjoying FreeCell, one of the solitaire games on my computer. Each possible way the cards can be dealt is numbered, and I had a little scoresheet where I checked them off as I won them. Of course, I knew my propensity to get caught up in this kind of activity, so I carefully disciplined myself. After each game I would get up and do something constructive before allowing myself to play another.
One afternoon I had started a game when the phone rang. It was a woman who sometimes called for either counsel or sympathy. I was glad when my daughter picked up the phone, for I knew she would probably be able to provide the needed encouragement. A short while later the call was over, and Amy came in to report on her talk. When she sat down in the chair by my desk, I looked at her to decide if now she would need a chance to talk. She seemed fine, and when I asked if everything had gone okay, she assured me it had. So as she recounted her conversation, I divided my attention between her words and my game.
Then all of a sudden I had one of the strangest experiences of my life. It was as though I was looking at an old-fashioned movie film, the kind where there are a series of frames that create the illusion of motion. Everything was normal--except one frame was different. For the briefest of seconds, I clearly saw a Figure standing behind my daughter.
Three things were instantly and forever impressed into my soul. The first impression was simply the knowledge that this was Jesus. I did not see His face, but I knew without a doubt it was Him. The second thing I knew with absolute certainty was that He was not angry. I've known what it's like to have someone angry with me, and that feeling was not there. The third thing however gripped me the most strongly, which was that I had made my Savior sad. Even without seeing His face, His heart somehow touched mine and I felt His grief.
As Amy got up to leave, I sat there processing what had just happened. Slowly I reached up and clicked out of my game. I then made my way to my bedroom closet. There on my face before God, I wept. At first all I felt was deep repentance. But gradually, I realized I was also grateful. My God had given me a clear revelation of what did and did not please Him. I returned to my desk, deleted the program and threw away my scorecard. Today I don't even remember how to play FreeCell.
When at Calvary Christ received the full wrath of God against our sins, it did not remove the fact that they still bring Him great sorrow. Paul spoke of this grieving process in Ephesians 4:25-32.
Therefore, putting away lying, "Let each one of you speak truth with his neighbor," for we are members of one another. "Be angry, and do not sin": do not let the sun go down on your wrath, nor give place to the devil. Let him who stole steal no longer, but rather let him labor, working with his hands what is good, that he may have something to give him who has need. Let no corrupt word proceed out of your mouth, but what is good for necessary edification, that it may impart grace to the hearers. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God, by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. Let all bitterness, wrath, anger, clamor, and evil speaking be put away from you, with all malice. And be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God in Christ forgave you.
I cannot say with certainty that playing cards is always sinful. What I do know is that our entertainments are powerful, drawing us into hours of distractedness, making it very easy to ignore the quiet opportunities God might give us--either to commune with Him or to be used in service to others. I also am fairly certain they do not give Him pleasure, and that in the final count they will be of no eternal value.
Now if anyone builds on this foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw, each one's work will become clear; for the Day will declare it, because it will be revealed by fire; and the fire will test each one's work, of what sort it is. If anyone's work which he has built on it endures, he will receive a reward. If anyone's work is burned, he will suffer loss; but he himself will be saved, yet so as through fire. (I Corinthians 3:12-15)
March 1, 2010
December 13, 2009
Increase Our Faith - Luke 17:5-10
And the apostles said to the Lord, "Increase our faith."
So the Lord said, "If you have faith as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, 'Be pulled up by the roots and be planted in the sea,' and it would obey you. And which of you, having a servant plowing or tending sheep, will say to him when he has come in from the field, 'Come at once and sit down to eat'? But will he not rather say to him, 'Prepare something for my supper, and gird yourself and serve me till I have eaten and drunk, and afterward you will eat and drink'? Does he thank that servant because he did the things that were commanded him? I think not. So likewise you, when you have done all those things which you are commanded, say, 'We are unprofitable servants. We have done what was our duty to do.'"
We should notice that the disciples did not ask Christ the question we might have asked. They did not say "What is faith?" As with their earlier request in Luke 11, "Teach us to pray," they were not simply curious philosophically. They were practical men, and they sincerely wished to be brought to the place where they could live and walk as their Master did.
It is clear that Jesus was also not interested in being abstract or academic. His response is very direct. Faith, He essentially tells them, is a matter of great authority and great humility. If they had even the tiniest measure of faith, they could speak to that tree they were standing by, and it would be pulled up and planted in the sea. Not thrown in the sea. Planted.
The longer part of His answer involves a servant who has labored hard in the fields or pastures. This man, upon arriving at the house, does not feed himself. Rather, he prepares a meal and serves it to his master, waiting patiently until the master has finished eating. After this the servant is able to take care of his own needs. But not only does the master not thank the servant for his service, the servant does not see any of this inequity of privilege as being wrong.
An interesting aspect of this story is that the listener transitions from being the master at the beginning to being the servant at the end. Jesus is not putting His disciples in either role. Rather, He is illustrating a principle, the principle of authority and submission. The reason this story falls so painfully on modern ears is because we have no real sense of the sacredness of duty, especially duty based on positional hierarchy.
But try as we might to revise things a little, this story is consistent with Christ's definition of faith throughout the gospels. There is the story (in Luke 7:9) of the centurion who desired healing for his servant. He told Jesus he was not worthy for Him to come into his house. Because he himself lived in a hierarchy of military command, he understood the authority Jesus had simply in the words He spoke. Jesus was amazed, and told the people around Him, "I say to you, I have not found such great faith, not even in Israel!"
A similar request for healing is found in Matthew 15:22-28.
And behold, a woman of Canaan came from that region and cried out to Him, saying, "Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David! My daughter is severely demon-possessed." But He answered her not a word.
And His disciples came and urged Him, saying, "Send her away, for she cries out after us." But He answered and said, "I was not sent except to the lost sheep of the house of Israel."
Then she came and worshiped Him, saying, "Lord, help me!" But He answered and said, "It is not good to take the children's bread and throw it to the little dogs." And she said, "Yes, Lord, yet even the little dogs eat the crumbs which fall from their masters' table."
Then Jesus answered and said to her, "O woman, great is your faith! Let it be to you as you desire." And her daughter was healed from that very hour.
Like the servant in the first story and the centurion in the second, this woman was not resentful that she was in a subordinate class. Her expression of humility was neither fake nor manipulative. Rather, she peacefully accepted the higher status of others, and again the healing power of God was released as a result of her "great faith."
In the 18th chapter of Luke, Jesus was teaching on the coming day when the Son of Man would again be revealed. At the end of His discussion, almost as a private musing, He asks, "Nevertheless, when the Son of Man comes, will He really find faith on the earth?"
There is no question that faith has been on earth in the past. Many people, both famed and unnamed, occupy the honored "Hall of Faith" in Hebrews 11. Here is how some of the famous are described (verses 32-35).
For the time would fail me to tell of Gideon and Barak and Samson and Jephthah, also of David and Samuel and the prophets: who through faith subdued kingdoms, worked righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, became valiant in battle, turned to flight the armies of the aliens. Women received their dead raised to life again.
Yet the stories of the unknowns are also listed.
Others were tortured, not accepting deliverance, that they might obtain a better resurrection. Still others had trial of mockings and scourgings, yes, and of chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, were tempted, were slain with the sword. They wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented—of whom the world was not worthy. (Hebrews 11:35-38)
Once again we see the two key components of faith in these Old Testament saints--the courage to stand strong in God's miraculous authority and an unwavering willingness to accept humiliation and abuse. The apostles also operated in this same faith during the days of the early church.
But the question remains, will Christ find these when He returns? Are we also ready to pray, "Lord, increase our faith"? Or has not our culture, and even the church, raised some very different standards in our day? Do we not pursue the equalization of privilege between all people as one of our highest aims, thereby forfeiting even the concept of positional authority? Do we not encourage self-actualization and self-esteem as premiere virtues? Do we not teach our children to aspire to personal greatness? "You can be anything you set your mind to!"
Or will we recall the quiet voices of Mary, "Behold the maidservant of the Lord! Let it be to me according to your word" (Luke 1:38), and of John the Baptist, "He must increase, but I must decrease" (John 3:30).
If we truly desire to possess the faith of Christ, I believe we need to become as the servant in the story, gladly serving without expectation of appreciation or reward, knowing too that our Master has the full power to move trees--and even mountains--and that as His representatives we can draw on that power to accomplish His will in our world.
So the Lord said, "If you have faith as a mustard seed, you can say to this mulberry tree, 'Be pulled up by the roots and be planted in the sea,' and it would obey you. And which of you, having a servant plowing or tending sheep, will say to him when he has come in from the field, 'Come at once and sit down to eat'? But will he not rather say to him, 'Prepare something for my supper, and gird yourself and serve me till I have eaten and drunk, and afterward you will eat and drink'? Does he thank that servant because he did the things that were commanded him? I think not. So likewise you, when you have done all those things which you are commanded, say, 'We are unprofitable servants. We have done what was our duty to do.'"
We should notice that the disciples did not ask Christ the question we might have asked. They did not say "What is faith?" As with their earlier request in Luke 11, "Teach us to pray," they were not simply curious philosophically. They were practical men, and they sincerely wished to be brought to the place where they could live and walk as their Master did.
It is clear that Jesus was also not interested in being abstract or academic. His response is very direct. Faith, He essentially tells them, is a matter of great authority and great humility. If they had even the tiniest measure of faith, they could speak to that tree they were standing by, and it would be pulled up and planted in the sea. Not thrown in the sea. Planted.
The longer part of His answer involves a servant who has labored hard in the fields or pastures. This man, upon arriving at the house, does not feed himself. Rather, he prepares a meal and serves it to his master, waiting patiently until the master has finished eating. After this the servant is able to take care of his own needs. But not only does the master not thank the servant for his service, the servant does not see any of this inequity of privilege as being wrong.
An interesting aspect of this story is that the listener transitions from being the master at the beginning to being the servant at the end. Jesus is not putting His disciples in either role. Rather, He is illustrating a principle, the principle of authority and submission. The reason this story falls so painfully on modern ears is because we have no real sense of the sacredness of duty, especially duty based on positional hierarchy.
But try as we might to revise things a little, this story is consistent with Christ's definition of faith throughout the gospels. There is the story (in Luke 7:9) of the centurion who desired healing for his servant. He told Jesus he was not worthy for Him to come into his house. Because he himself lived in a hierarchy of military command, he understood the authority Jesus had simply in the words He spoke. Jesus was amazed, and told the people around Him, "I say to you, I have not found such great faith, not even in Israel!"
A similar request for healing is found in Matthew 15:22-28.
And behold, a woman of Canaan came from that region and cried out to Him, saying, "Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David! My daughter is severely demon-possessed." But He answered her not a word.
And His disciples came and urged Him, saying, "Send her away, for she cries out after us." But He answered and said, "I was not sent except to the lost sheep of the house of Israel."
Then she came and worshiped Him, saying, "Lord, help me!" But He answered and said, "It is not good to take the children's bread and throw it to the little dogs." And she said, "Yes, Lord, yet even the little dogs eat the crumbs which fall from their masters' table."
Then Jesus answered and said to her, "O woman, great is your faith! Let it be to you as you desire." And her daughter was healed from that very hour.
Like the servant in the first story and the centurion in the second, this woman was not resentful that she was in a subordinate class. Her expression of humility was neither fake nor manipulative. Rather, she peacefully accepted the higher status of others, and again the healing power of God was released as a result of her "great faith."
In the 18th chapter of Luke, Jesus was teaching on the coming day when the Son of Man would again be revealed. At the end of His discussion, almost as a private musing, He asks, "Nevertheless, when the Son of Man comes, will He really find faith on the earth?"
There is no question that faith has been on earth in the past. Many people, both famed and unnamed, occupy the honored "Hall of Faith" in Hebrews 11. Here is how some of the famous are described (verses 32-35).
For the time would fail me to tell of Gideon and Barak and Samson and Jephthah, also of David and Samuel and the prophets: who through faith subdued kingdoms, worked righteousness, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the violence of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, out of weakness were made strong, became valiant in battle, turned to flight the armies of the aliens. Women received their dead raised to life again.
Yet the stories of the unknowns are also listed.
Others were tortured, not accepting deliverance, that they might obtain a better resurrection. Still others had trial of mockings and scourgings, yes, and of chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, were tempted, were slain with the sword. They wandered about in sheepskins and goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented—of whom the world was not worthy. (Hebrews 11:35-38)
Once again we see the two key components of faith in these Old Testament saints--the courage to stand strong in God's miraculous authority and an unwavering willingness to accept humiliation and abuse. The apostles also operated in this same faith during the days of the early church.
But the question remains, will Christ find these when He returns? Are we also ready to pray, "Lord, increase our faith"? Or has not our culture, and even the church, raised some very different standards in our day? Do we not pursue the equalization of privilege between all people as one of our highest aims, thereby forfeiting even the concept of positional authority? Do we not encourage self-actualization and self-esteem as premiere virtues? Do we not teach our children to aspire to personal greatness? "You can be anything you set your mind to!"
Or will we recall the quiet voices of Mary, "Behold the maidservant of the Lord! Let it be to me according to your word" (Luke 1:38), and of John the Baptist, "He must increase, but I must decrease" (John 3:30).
If we truly desire to possess the faith of Christ, I believe we need to become as the servant in the story, gladly serving without expectation of appreciation or reward, knowing too that our Master has the full power to move trees--and even mountains--and that as His representatives we can draw on that power to accomplish His will in our world.
November 21, 2009
It Shall Be Unclean - Haggai 2:10-14
On the twenty-fourth day of the ninth month, in the second year of Darius, the word of the Lord came by Haggai the prophet, saying, "Thus says the Lord of hosts: 'Now, ask the priests concerning the law, saying, "If one carries holy meat in the fold of his garment, and with the edge he touches bread or stew, wine or oil, or any food, will it become holy?"'"
Then the priests answered and said, "No."
And Haggai said, "If one who is unclean because of a dead body touches any of these, will it be unclean?"
So the priests answered and said, "It shall be unclean."
Then Haggai answered and said, "'So is this people, and so is this nation before Me,' says the Lord, 'and so is every work of their hands; and what they offer there is unclean.'"
While many of the detailed requirements of Old Testament ritual were fulfilled in the sacrifice of Christ, these laws nonetheless contained eternal principles that remain entirely intact. Buried in the little book of Haggai is one such principle which our modern world would do well to assimilate.
Haggai had been tasked by God to refocus the hearts of the exiles who had returned from Babylon and were supposed to be rebuilding the temple in Jerusalem. Because they had gotten distracted by the preoccupations of their own lives, God had lifted His blessings from them. He then warned the people, through Haggai, to "Consider your ways."
You have sown much, and bring in little;
You eat, but do not have enough;
You drink, but you are not filled with drink;
You clothe yourselves, but no one is warm;
And he who earns wages,
Earns wages to put into a bag with holes. (1:6)
It's clear that the people were not being lazy. Nor is there any mention of moral wrongdoing. The only accusation God made against them is that they had built themselves "paneled houses" before they built a house for Him. In other words, His priorities had become secondary to theirs.
In case they might see their financial struggles as random bad luck, or perhaps an attack of the devil, God spelled out the truth quite bluntly in verses 9-11.
"You looked for much, but indeed it came to little; and when you brought it home, I blew it away. Why?" says the Lord of hosts. "Because of My house that is in ruins, while every one of you runs to his own house. Therefore the heavens above you withhold the dew, and the earth withholds its fruit. For I called for a drought on the land and the mountains, on the grain and the new wine and the oil, on whatever the ground brings forth, on men and livestock, and on all the labor of your hands."
The people took Haggai's words to heart, and it is said they "feared the presence of the Lord." God immediately responded by stirring up their spirits to work on rebuilding His house. He also encouraged them to be strong, for He was with them. "According to the word that I covenanted with you when you came out of Egypt, so My Spirit remains among you: do not fear!" (2:5)
How quickly God returns to us when we return to Him. He has no pleasure in our poverty or distress. He even "stirs up our spirits," giving us the needed strength to do what He has commanded, and comes alongside as we walk in His ways.
However, God had one more important point to impress upon the people through the words of Haggai. He gave the priests a little quiz taken from their law books. The first question: If holy meat touches something else, like bread or stew or wine or oil, will any of these become holy as well? The priests answered rightly, "No."
Question two: If someone who has become ritually unclean because he touched someone who died then touches any of the same bread or stew or wine or oil, will it become unclean? The priests answered, "It shall be unclean."
The bad always corrupts the good. The good can never purify the bad. How often we reverse these principles in our day. A few wrong words, some immoral situations...but the acting was so good! The show was SO funny, or clever, or had such amazing special effects.
I believe God is saying to His people in our day that humor and brilliance and talent do not sanitize the things we take into our spirits. A little arsenic poisons an entire candy bar. A teaspoon of manure ruins even the best batch of brownies.
The exiles in Jerusalem had repented of their wrong priorities. They had returned to the assignment God had given them. But God still knew they would be most vulnerable not to the large-scale assaults of their enemies, but to the little--seemingly innocent--compromises.
The only way they would avoid these snares, God told them, was never to forget the "blight and mildew and hail" with which He had previously struck them. In the same way God chastens us today, so we might realize the absolute standard of obedience to which we are also called.
October 28, 2009
That He May Be Glorified - Isaiah 61:3
The Lord has anointed Me...to give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they may be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified.
One of the most devious, and most damaging, of our enemy's strategies is the concept that we have innate rights. By that I mean we have been led to believe we are owed something by virtue of our very existence.
It is true that we can have humanly-bestowed rights. For example, under the laws of our nation we receive certain protections and certain privileges in exchange for our loyal and compliant citizenship. But these are not innate, and they can be removed from us.
What we have instead, as beings created by God, is a vast array of gifts, beginning with the gift of life. We have also been given such gifts as creativity, the ability to feel joy, assignments that give us a sense of worth, and the wonderful opportunity to experience relationships with other created beings. God has privileged us to live on this beautiful planet, with all the resources it offers for our productivity and pleasure.
The subtle shift in thought--from seeing these things as gifts to seeing them as somehow due to us--can become the source of immense discontent. Because another person has received more of something, there arises a feeling of inequity that robs me of the ability to be grateful for that which I do have.
But even more, I believe it has caused the Christian community to build certain aspects of its battle plan on a wrong foundation. We have joined the secular world in seeking to defend and preserve "human rights," including the "right to life." While this sounds good, and carries weight in many arenas, it misses the far more solid foundation that God Himself established.
The message of Isaiah's wonderful announcement in chapter 61 is that God has stepped into the misery of human existence with the promise of a Savior who will liberate the captives and heal the brokenhearted. He will bring comfort and consolation to those who mourn. He will bring good tidings to the poor.
Then, in verse three, we find an amazing exchange that God offers His people. He is willing to take our ashes in trade for His beauty. He will take our mourning and give us His joy. He will take our "spirit of heaviness," and will reclothe us in His garment of praise.
This, I think, paints a more accurate picture of God's design for human redemption. We are born into the world with a deep desire for God, but because of our sin we inevitably reach toward other impotent sources to supply our needs and longings. These substitute gods cannot satisfy us, and eventually our lives are reduced to heaviness, mourning, and ashes.
Then at some point we hear the proclamation of grace, and by that grace we become able to admit our desperation and to accept His salvation. The divine exchange takes place, and we begin to walk in the life He has purchased for us at the cost of His own blood. This greatest of all gifts requires from us the deepest of all gratitudes. We deserve nothing, but out of the bounty of His goodness He gives us His beauty and His joy.
It is when this process becomes real in our minds and hearts that we begin to realize the true value of life in others. Each unborn child, each beggar on the streets, each broken old person--every being who bears the imprint of the divine image--all are potential recipients of God’s amazing grace. His sacrifice purchased sufficient life for the entirety of creation. The issue is not their right to life. The issue is His right to His creation.
For you see, when the exchange is made and we enter into His redemption, Isaiah tells us that we become "trees of righteousness" which the Lord Himself has planted. We are not "rocks of righteousness," permanently shaped from the start. Rather, we are living, growing beings who grow to display His nature, and eventually to bear His fruit, for the explicit purpose of bringing Him glory.
And a significant part of that glory is our own joyful worship. We tend to see worship as something we give to God, but in fact it is entirely the outflow of His overwhelming generosity toward us. He causes it. He deserves it. He is glorified by it.
I will greatly rejoice in the Lord,
My soul shall be joyful in my God;
For He has clothed me with the garments of salvation,
He has covered me with the robe of righteousness,
As a bridegroom decks himself with ornaments,
And as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.
For as the earth brings forth its bud,
As the garden causes the things that are sown in it to spring forth,
So the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise to spring forth before all the nations.
One of the most devious, and most damaging, of our enemy's strategies is the concept that we have innate rights. By that I mean we have been led to believe we are owed something by virtue of our very existence.
It is true that we can have humanly-bestowed rights. For example, under the laws of our nation we receive certain protections and certain privileges in exchange for our loyal and compliant citizenship. But these are not innate, and they can be removed from us.
What we have instead, as beings created by God, is a vast array of gifts, beginning with the gift of life. We have also been given such gifts as creativity, the ability to feel joy, assignments that give us a sense of worth, and the wonderful opportunity to experience relationships with other created beings. God has privileged us to live on this beautiful planet, with all the resources it offers for our productivity and pleasure.
The subtle shift in thought--from seeing these things as gifts to seeing them as somehow due to us--can become the source of immense discontent. Because another person has received more of something, there arises a feeling of inequity that robs me of the ability to be grateful for that which I do have.
But even more, I believe it has caused the Christian community to build certain aspects of its battle plan on a wrong foundation. We have joined the secular world in seeking to defend and preserve "human rights," including the "right to life." While this sounds good, and carries weight in many arenas, it misses the far more solid foundation that God Himself established.
The message of Isaiah's wonderful announcement in chapter 61 is that God has stepped into the misery of human existence with the promise of a Savior who will liberate the captives and heal the brokenhearted. He will bring comfort and consolation to those who mourn. He will bring good tidings to the poor.
Then, in verse three, we find an amazing exchange that God offers His people. He is willing to take our ashes in trade for His beauty. He will take our mourning and give us His joy. He will take our "spirit of heaviness," and will reclothe us in His garment of praise.
This, I think, paints a more accurate picture of God's design for human redemption. We are born into the world with a deep desire for God, but because of our sin we inevitably reach toward other impotent sources to supply our needs and longings. These substitute gods cannot satisfy us, and eventually our lives are reduced to heaviness, mourning, and ashes.
Then at some point we hear the proclamation of grace, and by that grace we become able to admit our desperation and to accept His salvation. The divine exchange takes place, and we begin to walk in the life He has purchased for us at the cost of His own blood. This greatest of all gifts requires from us the deepest of all gratitudes. We deserve nothing, but out of the bounty of His goodness He gives us His beauty and His joy.
It is when this process becomes real in our minds and hearts that we begin to realize the true value of life in others. Each unborn child, each beggar on the streets, each broken old person--every being who bears the imprint of the divine image--all are potential recipients of God’s amazing grace. His sacrifice purchased sufficient life for the entirety of creation. The issue is not their right to life. The issue is His right to His creation.
For you see, when the exchange is made and we enter into His redemption, Isaiah tells us that we become "trees of righteousness" which the Lord Himself has planted. We are not "rocks of righteousness," permanently shaped from the start. Rather, we are living, growing beings who grow to display His nature, and eventually to bear His fruit, for the explicit purpose of bringing Him glory.
And a significant part of that glory is our own joyful worship. We tend to see worship as something we give to God, but in fact it is entirely the outflow of His overwhelming generosity toward us. He causes it. He deserves it. He is glorified by it.
I will greatly rejoice in the Lord,
My soul shall be joyful in my God;
For He has clothed me with the garments of salvation,
He has covered me with the robe of righteousness,
As a bridegroom decks himself with ornaments,
And as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.
For as the earth brings forth its bud,
As the garden causes the things that are sown in it to spring forth,
So the Lord God will cause righteousness and praise to spring forth before all the nations.
Isaiah 61:10,11
September 2, 2009
Perfect and Complete - James 1
My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing. (James 1:2-4)
James, like many other Bible writers, does not speak of self-improvement. That's a human-level perspective on God's agenda. Rather, he uses these enormous, impossible words: "perfect and complete, lacking nothing." All of us have a sense that we ought to be getting a little more holy over time. But very few of us dare to measure our lives on a daily basis against God's divine standard of perfection.
If we look closely at this first chapter, however, we will discover that James is asking us to do things we actually can do. He understands that as we do these things, God Himself will supernaturally work His perfection into us.
He opens his discussion with the phrase, "Count it all joy." He's not saying we should naturally be happy when we find ourselves in times of trials. The joy he speaks of is not a response. The word "count" is a matter of the will, not the emotions. We are to choose to see our trials as good and acceptable because of their power to bring us to God's perfection. Our emotions may tremble or grieve, but our spirit can find peace in the knowledge that God is working something of great value in these very difficulties.
If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for he who doubts is like a wave of the sea driven and tossed by the wind. For let not that man suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways. (5-8)
Next on our to-do list is asking. Among the challenges of the Christian walk is that there is much we don't understand, and there are many decisions which are hard to make. God tells us that when we ask Him for the wisdom we lack, He will give it to us "liberally and without reproach." The catch is, we must be very serious about accepting this wisdom and adjusting our lives accordingly. God isn't going to give us something to simply ponder, another viewpoint we can weigh against other competing views to see which we prefer.
Let the lowly brother glory in his exaltation, but the rich in his humiliation, because as a flower of the field he will pass away. For no sooner has the sun risen with a burning heat than it withers the grass; its flower falls, and its beautiful appearance perishes. So the rich man also will fade away in his pursuits. (9-11)
Here is one of the things God apparently wants us to be wise about: our attitude toward wealth. Being poor, James tells us, is a position of honor, whereas riches can be a snare, leading us to put our energies into things that will quickly disappear. Notice again that our assignment is to "glory" in our lowliness. Like "counting it all joy," this glorying is a matter of the will. We must deliberately choose to evaluate poverty and wealth--and every other aspect of life--in the same way God does.
This reinforces the truth that God's wisdom is often backwards from the world's wisdom, and therefore is not something that can be successfully merged with it. I should also point out that James is not saying we should pursue either poverty or wealth. Rather, if we are poor it is something to rejoice about. If we are rich, we should have a sober and humble awareness of the unreliability and transience of our wealth.
Blessed is the man who endures temptation; for when he has been approved, he will receive the crown of life which the Lord has promised to those who love Him. Let no one say when he is tempted, "I am tempted by God"; for God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does He Himself tempt anyone. But each one is tempted when he is drawn away by his own desires and enticed. Then, when desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, brings forth death. (12-15)
Next on our list is endurance. The key to endurance, according to James, is our understanding of temptation. Temptations are different from trials, in that trials are about suffering whereas temptations are about sin. When we give in to something that tempts us, it is like testing positive for a disease. There's something wrong inside. Our inclination is to blame the tempter (Eve tried that, remember?). But God says we are drawn by our own desires.
We can only endure (that is, make it through a temptation without falling for it) when our desire for God becomes stronger than our desire for the thing which would entice us. In other words, we must become so aware of the beauty and desirability of God that our love for Him changes us on the inside. And that, my friend, is again a matter of choice. We must choose to think about God, and to keep our eyes and minds away from those attractions that do not fully honor Him.
Do not be deceived, my beloved brethren. Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning. Of His own will He brought us forth by the word of truth, that we might be a kind of firstfruits of His creatures. (16-18)
Here the instruction is to "not be deceived." This one is a little tricky because deceptions are, well, deceiving. So James spells out the lie. He says that no one else but God is responsible for the things that are good in our lives. No one else can take credit for truth, or for human achievements, or for the blessings we enjoy. The government doesn't give us our security, colleges don't give us our wisdom, technology doesn't give us the solutions to our problems, and (most of all) we ourselves don't earn or deserve the successes we experience. If something is good, it has come from God and God alone.
So then, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath; for the wrath of man does not produce the righteousness of God. Therefore lay aside all filthiness and overflow of wickedness, and receive with meekness the implanted word, which is able to save your souls. (19-21)
Although this seems like just another series of to-do's, James is actually beginning here to describe the picture of God's perfection. Because the testings of our faith have taught us patience, because our understanding has been made clear by God's wisdom, because we now are able to evaluate our lives from His perspective, because we have learned to endure temptations and to reject lies, "So then...." So then, we are able to be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to become angry. So then, we will lay aside filthiness and wickedness. So then, we will receive with meekness the redemptive words of God.
But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man observing his natural face in a mirror; for he observes himself, goes away, and immediately forgets what kind of man he was. But he who looks into the perfect law of liberty and continues in it, and is not a forgetful hearer but a doer of the work, this one will be blessed in what he does. (22-25)
Do not misunderstand. We still must make continual and deliberate choices to live out the perfection God has worked into us. But that perfection is now truly ours. We know the truth of God's priorities. Our faith through patience and endurance has built into us a supernatural strength. We have discovered God's love and we respond by loving Him.
How can we test our perfection? That's simple, says James.
If anyone among you thinks he is religious, and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his own heart, this one's religion is useless. Pure and undefiled religion before God and the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their trouble, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world. (26-27)
If God has made us complete, it will be made evident by what we say and do. Let me emphasize this. Our words and actions are the result, not the source, of our perfection. Good talk and generous deeds and clean living mean nothing unless they are the outflow of God's own nature in us. If they come from anywhere else, they are not part of the righteousness of God and have no eternal value.
So in review, we must begin by gratefully acknowledging that our sufferings are God's chosen means to teach us patience. We should prayerfully seek His wisdom, that we might understand and follow in His ways. As our knowledge of His perspective on things (such as wealth) increases, our attitudes and choices should reflect these same values. And finally, when temptations come, we must resist them with great endurance, knowing that if we do, we will "receive the crown of life which the Lord has promised to those who love Him."
James, like many other Bible writers, does not speak of self-improvement. That's a human-level perspective on God's agenda. Rather, he uses these enormous, impossible words: "perfect and complete, lacking nothing." All of us have a sense that we ought to be getting a little more holy over time. But very few of us dare to measure our lives on a daily basis against God's divine standard of perfection.
If we look closely at this first chapter, however, we will discover that James is asking us to do things we actually can do. He understands that as we do these things, God Himself will supernaturally work His perfection into us.
He opens his discussion with the phrase, "Count it all joy." He's not saying we should naturally be happy when we find ourselves in times of trials. The joy he speaks of is not a response. The word "count" is a matter of the will, not the emotions. We are to choose to see our trials as good and acceptable because of their power to bring us to God's perfection. Our emotions may tremble or grieve, but our spirit can find peace in the knowledge that God is working something of great value in these very difficulties.
If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for he who doubts is like a wave of the sea driven and tossed by the wind. For let not that man suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways. (5-8)
Next on our to-do list is asking. Among the challenges of the Christian walk is that there is much we don't understand, and there are many decisions which are hard to make. God tells us that when we ask Him for the wisdom we lack, He will give it to us "liberally and without reproach." The catch is, we must be very serious about accepting this wisdom and adjusting our lives accordingly. God isn't going to give us something to simply ponder, another viewpoint we can weigh against other competing views to see which we prefer.
Let the lowly brother glory in his exaltation, but the rich in his humiliation, because as a flower of the field he will pass away. For no sooner has the sun risen with a burning heat than it withers the grass; its flower falls, and its beautiful appearance perishes. So the rich man also will fade away in his pursuits. (9-11)
Here is one of the things God apparently wants us to be wise about: our attitude toward wealth. Being poor, James tells us, is a position of honor, whereas riches can be a snare, leading us to put our energies into things that will quickly disappear. Notice again that our assignment is to "glory" in our lowliness. Like "counting it all joy," this glorying is a matter of the will. We must deliberately choose to evaluate poverty and wealth--and every other aspect of life--in the same way God does.
This reinforces the truth that God's wisdom is often backwards from the world's wisdom, and therefore is not something that can be successfully merged with it. I should also point out that James is not saying we should pursue either poverty or wealth. Rather, if we are poor it is something to rejoice about. If we are rich, we should have a sober and humble awareness of the unreliability and transience of our wealth.
Blessed is the man who endures temptation; for when he has been approved, he will receive the crown of life which the Lord has promised to those who love Him. Let no one say when he is tempted, "I am tempted by God"; for God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does He Himself tempt anyone. But each one is tempted when he is drawn away by his own desires and enticed. Then, when desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, brings forth death. (12-15)
Next on our list is endurance. The key to endurance, according to James, is our understanding of temptation. Temptations are different from trials, in that trials are about suffering whereas temptations are about sin. When we give in to something that tempts us, it is like testing positive for a disease. There's something wrong inside. Our inclination is to blame the tempter (Eve tried that, remember?). But God says we are drawn by our own desires.
We can only endure (that is, make it through a temptation without falling for it) when our desire for God becomes stronger than our desire for the thing which would entice us. In other words, we must become so aware of the beauty and desirability of God that our love for Him changes us on the inside. And that, my friend, is again a matter of choice. We must choose to think about God, and to keep our eyes and minds away from those attractions that do not fully honor Him.
Do not be deceived, my beloved brethren. Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning. Of His own will He brought us forth by the word of truth, that we might be a kind of firstfruits of His creatures. (16-18)
Here the instruction is to "not be deceived." This one is a little tricky because deceptions are, well, deceiving. So James spells out the lie. He says that no one else but God is responsible for the things that are good in our lives. No one else can take credit for truth, or for human achievements, or for the blessings we enjoy. The government doesn't give us our security, colleges don't give us our wisdom, technology doesn't give us the solutions to our problems, and (most of all) we ourselves don't earn or deserve the successes we experience. If something is good, it has come from God and God alone.
So then, my beloved brethren, let every man be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath; for the wrath of man does not produce the righteousness of God. Therefore lay aside all filthiness and overflow of wickedness, and receive with meekness the implanted word, which is able to save your souls. (19-21)
Although this seems like just another series of to-do's, James is actually beginning here to describe the picture of God's perfection. Because the testings of our faith have taught us patience, because our understanding has been made clear by God's wisdom, because we now are able to evaluate our lives from His perspective, because we have learned to endure temptations and to reject lies, "So then...." So then, we are able to be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to become angry. So then, we will lay aside filthiness and wickedness. So then, we will receive with meekness the redemptive words of God.
But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man observing his natural face in a mirror; for he observes himself, goes away, and immediately forgets what kind of man he was. But he who looks into the perfect law of liberty and continues in it, and is not a forgetful hearer but a doer of the work, this one will be blessed in what he does. (22-25)
Do not misunderstand. We still must make continual and deliberate choices to live out the perfection God has worked into us. But that perfection is now truly ours. We know the truth of God's priorities. Our faith through patience and endurance has built into us a supernatural strength. We have discovered God's love and we respond by loving Him.
How can we test our perfection? That's simple, says James.
If anyone among you thinks he is religious, and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his own heart, this one's religion is useless. Pure and undefiled religion before God and the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their trouble, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world. (26-27)
If God has made us complete, it will be made evident by what we say and do. Let me emphasize this. Our words and actions are the result, not the source, of our perfection. Good talk and generous deeds and clean living mean nothing unless they are the outflow of God's own nature in us. If they come from anywhere else, they are not part of the righteousness of God and have no eternal value.
So in review, we must begin by gratefully acknowledging that our sufferings are God's chosen means to teach us patience. We should prayerfully seek His wisdom, that we might understand and follow in His ways. As our knowledge of His perspective on things (such as wealth) increases, our attitudes and choices should reflect these same values. And finally, when temptations come, we must resist them with great endurance, knowing that if we do, we will "receive the crown of life which the Lord has promised to those who love Him."
August 17, 2009
Partakers of the Divine Nature - 2 Peter 1:2-4
Grace and peace be multiplied to you in the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord, as His divine power has given to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of Him who called us by glory and virtue, by which have been given to us exceedingly great and precious promises, that through these you may be partakers of the divine nature, having escaped the corruption that is in the world through lust.
In our world of seemingly endless options, we sometimes overlook the reality that scripture only gives us two. Either we are "partakers of the divine nature," or we are in bondage to the "corruption that is in the world through lust."
The first option is ours by choice. We "partake" of God's nature as one might choose to partake of good food. The Greek word is actually koinonos, which some of you will recognize as being related to koinonia, or shared companionship. We gain this nature of God by deliberately associating (communing) with Him. He is always willing, but we must also consciously determine to be part of this supernatural community. It is never forced upon us. Notice how Peter phrases it: "that...you may be partakers."
Option two is very, very different. It is something that must be escaped. It holds us captive against our will. It is described as corruption, as something that is in the world, and as something that is produced by lust. The word translated "corruption" is a powerful word. It refers to things which destroy and which will themselves be destroyed. This is our destiny apart from the mercy of God.
The word I want to focus on, however, is the word "lust," or epithumeo. It literally means directing our passions toward a desired object. While we normally associate this with sexual desire, it actually can apply to anything we deeply long for. In most of the scriptures that use epithumeo it is translated "lust" or occasionally "desire." However, in the King James Version you will sometimes find instead the old-fashioned word "concupiscence."
Picture if you will a long line, a continuum. At one end of the line is concupiscence. At the other end of the line is agape, which is the word that best describes God's nature. Each of us lives somewhere on that line, and we are affected by both forces. Even before we are saved we see the mercies of God, in the natural world and in the people around us. There is even an echo of God's nature within us, which enables at least some of us to be kind and good.
But no matter where we are on that line, until the point of our salvation we are moving toward the concupiscence end. Only by God's redeeming grace can we be turned around and headed toward agape. The agenda of our life then becomes this steady movement toward heaven. It happens through the moment-by-moment decisions to keep our eyes and minds (and even our bodies) turned in the right direction.
This is what Peter is discussing in his second epistle. He says we who are believers have everything we need to keep ourselves aligned with God's nature, specifically the power, the knowledge, and the "exceedingly great and precious promises." God also continually "calls" us, not through loud demands, but through the beauty of His glory and virtue. Peter goes on (in verses 5 and 6) to identify the steps we must take to make this calling a reality in our lives: faith, virtue, knowledge, self-control, perseverance, godliness, brotherly kindness, and love.
Because it is a process that obviously requires great commitment, it would be helpful to understand more about this line we're on. I'm going to borrow two natural images to describe our options. For the concupiscence end, I picture a black hole. This is a strange component of our universe that sucks everything into itself, even light. It is always consuming and is never satisfied.
There is a description in Habakkuk 2:5 of a man who lives in concupiscence. "Indeed, because he transgresses by wine, he is a proud man, and he does not stay at home. Because he enlarges his desire as hell, and he is like death, and cannot be satisfied, he gathers to himself all nations and heaps up for himself all peoples." This man craves wine, women other than his wife, and endless power...but despite all that he "gathers to himself," his hungers are never abated.
The agape end of the line can be represented by the sun. Out of its own resources it endlessly pours light and warmth into the universe around it. From this light and warmth there springs up new life which is blessed and sustained by the energies it receives, and which in turn passes good things on to others.
There are many wonderful descriptions of the agape life in the New Testament. I've chosen this one (Romans 12:9-13) because it has so many practical aspects. "Let love (agape) be without hypocrisy. Abhor what is evil. Cling to what is good. Be kindly affectionate to one another with brotherly love, in honor giving preference to one another; not lagging in diligence, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord; rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation, continuing steadfastly in prayer; distributing to the needs of the saints, given to hospitality."
I doubt there is anything that can be more strongly contrasted than concupiscence and agape. But here is the crux of the matter: we can be facing in only one direction on our line. We are either receiving the warmth of God's love, or we are being drawn into the blackness of death. If, after our rebirth (which effectively turned us heavenward for the first time), hell no longer holds power over us, then why would Peter and the other writers of scripture be so concerned that we "give all diligence" to becoming like God?
I think the key comes down to our epithumeo (desires). You see, while most of the time this word is used in a negative context, there are several scriptures that speak of desires which are godly. For instance, Jesus tells His disciples (in Matthew 13:17) that "...many prophets and righteous men desired (epithumeo) to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it." In Philippians 1:22 Paul writes that he has a strong epithumeo to "depart [from this life] and be with Christ."
Some religions have proposed that the path to holiness is found through renouncing all desire. Christianity instead promotes increased desire...but only for God Himself. The more we look toward Jesus, and the more we come to know Him deep in our innermost beings, the more our desire for Him will replace every other epithumeo we might have. As Peter expressed it, "Grace and peace be multiplied to you in the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord, as His divine power has given to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of Him who called us."
Concupiscence tempts us to be self-seeking and self-exalting, and then demolishes the self in its all-consuming corruption. Agape requires absolute selflessness, but even as we are dying to ourselves we are mysteriously raised to join into the koinonia of Christ, a fellowship that frees us to become more significantly individual than anything that can be found "in the world."
In our world of seemingly endless options, we sometimes overlook the reality that scripture only gives us two. Either we are "partakers of the divine nature," or we are in bondage to the "corruption that is in the world through lust."
The first option is ours by choice. We "partake" of God's nature as one might choose to partake of good food. The Greek word is actually koinonos, which some of you will recognize as being related to koinonia, or shared companionship. We gain this nature of God by deliberately associating (communing) with Him. He is always willing, but we must also consciously determine to be part of this supernatural community. It is never forced upon us. Notice how Peter phrases it: "that...you may be partakers."
Option two is very, very different. It is something that must be escaped. It holds us captive against our will. It is described as corruption, as something that is in the world, and as something that is produced by lust. The word translated "corruption" is a powerful word. It refers to things which destroy and which will themselves be destroyed. This is our destiny apart from the mercy of God.
The word I want to focus on, however, is the word "lust," or epithumeo. It literally means directing our passions toward a desired object. While we normally associate this with sexual desire, it actually can apply to anything we deeply long for. In most of the scriptures that use epithumeo it is translated "lust" or occasionally "desire." However, in the King James Version you will sometimes find instead the old-fashioned word "concupiscence."
Picture if you will a long line, a continuum. At one end of the line is concupiscence. At the other end of the line is agape, which is the word that best describes God's nature. Each of us lives somewhere on that line, and we are affected by both forces. Even before we are saved we see the mercies of God, in the natural world and in the people around us. There is even an echo of God's nature within us, which enables at least some of us to be kind and good.
But no matter where we are on that line, until the point of our salvation we are moving toward the concupiscence end. Only by God's redeeming grace can we be turned around and headed toward agape. The agenda of our life then becomes this steady movement toward heaven. It happens through the moment-by-moment decisions to keep our eyes and minds (and even our bodies) turned in the right direction.
This is what Peter is discussing in his second epistle. He says we who are believers have everything we need to keep ourselves aligned with God's nature, specifically the power, the knowledge, and the "exceedingly great and precious promises." God also continually "calls" us, not through loud demands, but through the beauty of His glory and virtue. Peter goes on (in verses 5 and 6) to identify the steps we must take to make this calling a reality in our lives: faith, virtue, knowledge, self-control, perseverance, godliness, brotherly kindness, and love.
Because it is a process that obviously requires great commitment, it would be helpful to understand more about this line we're on. I'm going to borrow two natural images to describe our options. For the concupiscence end, I picture a black hole. This is a strange component of our universe that sucks everything into itself, even light. It is always consuming and is never satisfied.
There is a description in Habakkuk 2:5 of a man who lives in concupiscence. "Indeed, because he transgresses by wine, he is a proud man, and he does not stay at home. Because he enlarges his desire as hell, and he is like death, and cannot be satisfied, he gathers to himself all nations and heaps up for himself all peoples." This man craves wine, women other than his wife, and endless power...but despite all that he "gathers to himself," his hungers are never abated.
The agape end of the line can be represented by the sun. Out of its own resources it endlessly pours light and warmth into the universe around it. From this light and warmth there springs up new life which is blessed and sustained by the energies it receives, and which in turn passes good things on to others.
There are many wonderful descriptions of the agape life in the New Testament. I've chosen this one (Romans 12:9-13) because it has so many practical aspects. "Let love (agape) be without hypocrisy. Abhor what is evil. Cling to what is good. Be kindly affectionate to one another with brotherly love, in honor giving preference to one another; not lagging in diligence, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord; rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation, continuing steadfastly in prayer; distributing to the needs of the saints, given to hospitality."
I doubt there is anything that can be more strongly contrasted than concupiscence and agape. But here is the crux of the matter: we can be facing in only one direction on our line. We are either receiving the warmth of God's love, or we are being drawn into the blackness of death. If, after our rebirth (which effectively turned us heavenward for the first time), hell no longer holds power over us, then why would Peter and the other writers of scripture be so concerned that we "give all diligence" to becoming like God?
I think the key comes down to our epithumeo (desires). You see, while most of the time this word is used in a negative context, there are several scriptures that speak of desires which are godly. For instance, Jesus tells His disciples (in Matthew 13:17) that "...many prophets and righteous men desired (epithumeo) to see what you see, and did not see it, and to hear what you hear, and did not hear it." In Philippians 1:22 Paul writes that he has a strong epithumeo to "depart [from this life] and be with Christ."
Some religions have proposed that the path to holiness is found through renouncing all desire. Christianity instead promotes increased desire...but only for God Himself. The more we look toward Jesus, and the more we come to know Him deep in our innermost beings, the more our desire for Him will replace every other epithumeo we might have. As Peter expressed it, "Grace and peace be multiplied to you in the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord, as His divine power has given to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of Him who called us."
Concupiscence tempts us to be self-seeking and self-exalting, and then demolishes the self in its all-consuming corruption. Agape requires absolute selflessness, but even as we are dying to ourselves we are mysteriously raised to join into the koinonia of Christ, a fellowship that frees us to become more significantly individual than anything that can be found "in the world."
July 10, 2009
Consider Him - Hebrews 12:3
"For consider Him who endured such hostility from sinners against Himself, lest you become weary and discouraged in your souls."
Some of the hardest tests in our walk of faith are the criticisms and rejection of others. We may think we're not really affected by these, but all of us are. Particularly when the judgments come from people we admire, or from those who are our own friends and family, we can find ourselves quickly becoming "weary and discouraged."
The wise response, according to the author of Hebrews, is to put this process into perspective. I am on a race track (12:1), running a custom-crafted course that has been laid out from all eternity specifically for me. There are weights I must cast off, snares I must resist, and endurance I must learn, or I will never finish my race.
The hostilities of others are testing points. They test whether I have become more thrilled by the "joy set before me" (12:2), or whether I am still seeking joy from earthly sources. The affirmation of others is very exhilarating, and thus it can be a very powerful distraction away from that eternal joy at the end of my race.
One might think, then, that God would help us out a bit by making the future joy clear and easy to see. But, we are told, that's not exactly His first thought. Instead, He disciplines us. Verses 5 and 6 actually use even stronger words: "chasten," and "rebuke," and "scourge," which means to beat with a whip. We are put in a position where we must choose between being directed by the rebukes of God or by the admiration of our friends. It is indeed a very difficult spot.
The solution to this challenge is always the same. "Consider Him." Oh, you might say, but Jesus never had to be disciplined. He always chose to obey His Father. Well, amazingly, that's not what the scripture tells us. In Hebrews 5:8 we learn that "though He was a Son, yet He learned obedience by the things which He suffered." He too had to endure earthly pain. He too had to choose between His earthly family and His heavenly Father (see Matthew 12:46-50), and it may not have been exactly easy for Him either.
The difference, we are told, was that Jesus truly understood the "joy that was set before Him." He knew what heaven was. He knew His Father. But perhaps most importantly, He knew what awaited Him at the end of His race (which is, I believe, the same destination toward which our individual races are headed). Jesus never lost sight of the glorious union He would one day enjoy with His beautiful, perfected Bride.
If we can understand this, we will not be discouraged by our testings. For in fact, these are precisely the means whereby our loving Father is preparing us for His Son. When we are willing to trade our present joys for an unseen future joy, we will gradually discover that God provides us with another gift for which we do NOT need to wait. It's something called peace.
"Now no chastening seems to be joyful for the present, but painful; nevertheless, afterward it yields the peaceable fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it" (12:11).
Some of the hardest tests in our walk of faith are the criticisms and rejection of others. We may think we're not really affected by these, but all of us are. Particularly when the judgments come from people we admire, or from those who are our own friends and family, we can find ourselves quickly becoming "weary and discouraged."
The wise response, according to the author of Hebrews, is to put this process into perspective. I am on a race track (12:1), running a custom-crafted course that has been laid out from all eternity specifically for me. There are weights I must cast off, snares I must resist, and endurance I must learn, or I will never finish my race.
The hostilities of others are testing points. They test whether I have become more thrilled by the "joy set before me" (12:2), or whether I am still seeking joy from earthly sources. The affirmation of others is very exhilarating, and thus it can be a very powerful distraction away from that eternal joy at the end of my race.
One might think, then, that God would help us out a bit by making the future joy clear and easy to see. But, we are told, that's not exactly His first thought. Instead, He disciplines us. Verses 5 and 6 actually use even stronger words: "chasten," and "rebuke," and "scourge," which means to beat with a whip. We are put in a position where we must choose between being directed by the rebukes of God or by the admiration of our friends. It is indeed a very difficult spot.
The solution to this challenge is always the same. "Consider Him." Oh, you might say, but Jesus never had to be disciplined. He always chose to obey His Father. Well, amazingly, that's not what the scripture tells us. In Hebrews 5:8 we learn that "though He was a Son, yet He learned obedience by the things which He suffered." He too had to endure earthly pain. He too had to choose between His earthly family and His heavenly Father (see Matthew 12:46-50), and it may not have been exactly easy for Him either.
The difference, we are told, was that Jesus truly understood the "joy that was set before Him." He knew what heaven was. He knew His Father. But perhaps most importantly, He knew what awaited Him at the end of His race (which is, I believe, the same destination toward which our individual races are headed). Jesus never lost sight of the glorious union He would one day enjoy with His beautiful, perfected Bride.
If we can understand this, we will not be discouraged by our testings. For in fact, these are precisely the means whereby our loving Father is preparing us for His Son. When we are willing to trade our present joys for an unseen future joy, we will gradually discover that God provides us with another gift for which we do NOT need to wait. It's something called peace.
"Now no chastening seems to be joyful for the present, but painful; nevertheless, afterward it yields the peaceable fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it" (12:11).
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