Good and Evil in Close Proximity

The author of Hebrews refers to mature believers “who because of practice have their senses trained to discern good and evil.” Little children may not know the difference between good and evil. Adults should. But it takes practice, and lack of the practice of discernment will allow one to slide back into immaturity and confusion. 

It would be much more simple if good and evil were not in such close proximity. It would be nice if they were always easily distinguished and had clear edges. But it is not so simple. Because someone can do something seemingly good, but the unintended consequences could be evil. Or, because someone can do something that is seemingly good, but have evil motives for doing the “good” that they do. 

Worse yet, we find in ourselves principles of both good and evil in close proximity, within our hearts or wills. Pauls says in Romans 7, that conflicted chapter: “For the good that I want, I do not do, but I practice the very evil that I do not want.” (Romans 7:19 NAS95) We have a level of “want” or “will” that desires to do good, but we end up not doing it. Why? It seems that it must be because there is another, deeper “want” or “will” that desires something darker. And so we can we how closely both good and evil lie in our hearts.

James, in his practical epistle expresses the same truth, yet framed differently: “With (our tongues) we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in the likeness of God; from the same mouth come both blessing and cursing. My brethren, these things ought not to be this way.” (James 3:9–10 NAS95) Good and evil, in close proximity in our hearts, inhabits our mouths as well.

And so, we must hold fast our confession, and we must commit to application. To “hold fast our confession” means that we entrust our souls to our Savior, and ask that as He has justified, He will also sanctify, and re-create our hearts and minds and mouths to be the home of good and not evil. Also, we look with hopeful expectation for a future world in which there is only good, and all evil is eradicated. But by way of application, we must sharpen our “senses,” our moral antennae, so that we can sharply discern what some would regard as the foggy outlines of good and evil. Not legalistically. But theologically, for the glory of God, and the good, not evil, of our souls.

Jesus Christ, the Center of History

I’m tired of hearing about being on the wrong side of history. It’s an arrogant phrase, in that it assumes that finally our generation has “progressed” so far and become so enlightened; and further, that everything that came before is ignorant and stupid. Well guess what? Following that pattern, in a few years, another page will turn, and you will be on the wrong side of history, and they will consider you to be the ignorant and stupid one. And they might be right.

In addition to the whole “wrong side of history” thing being arrogant, it is also simply wrong. Fundamental and foundational truths are just that, regardless of the mood of the current age. And God, in His grace, has revealed to us in Word and in Person something about what that fundamental, foundation truth is: Jesus Christ stands at the Center of History.

Think of a book with many pages, yes, even the pages of history. Jesus as the Center means that He is not merely a page of history that has come and gone. Rather, Jesus is the Binding of the Book, the Center of History. And by faith in Jesus, we can see how history fits together, both in the many manifestations of human foolishness, and also, graciously, in the manifestations of divine wisdom. But we must notice and accept that Jesus is directly, personally related to and integral to each and every page of the book, of all history, always and everywhere. 

Without this Binding Truth, this Central Character, our view of life and times is like a loose-leaf notebook let loose in the wind, pages flying every which way, with us grabbing hold of one and proclaiming that we are now on “the right side of history.” Arrogant, ignorant, and foolish.

By faith in Jesus, acknowledging and accepting who He is and what He has done - we come into personal relationship with the very Center of History, as Savior, Lord, and King. He is what holds everything together. So when a person who does not have such faith in Jesus diagnoses you or me as being on the wrong side of history, they are doing so as one who is reading a page from the book with no binding. They have lost sight of the Story, and hold merely a page that they think is the beginning and the end of everything. And they are sorely mistaken, though they speak so confidently. But by faith, we know Him who is “the Author and Perfecter of faith.”

Remain On at Ephesus

This is the time of year that I get a bit more reflective about the number of years serving in one place. Jane and I moved to Milford in 1986, and my first Sunday of ministry as pastor of Milford Baptist was an Easter Sunday. That year, Easter fell on March 30, so by now, I’ve completed 33 years in one place, and by Easter this year, will be a few weeks into the 34th.

When Paul, the elder, wrote to Timothy, the younger, he gave instruction to stay in one place. “As I urged you upon my departure for Macedonia, remain on at Ephesus so that you may instruct certain men not to teach strange doctrines,” (1 Timothy 1:3). 

We don’t know how long “remain on” meant for Timothy. It certainly didn’t mean that he would never leave. But since Paul was, when not imprisoned, generally on the move, it was remarkable advice to Timothy.

We are not sure if Timothy welcomed the instruction. I can imagine some push-back responses. 

• “But Paul, this isn’t my home, and my family is so far away.”

• “But Paul, I don’t really like big-city life.” 

• “But Paul, I don’t like the culture, or the climate.” 

• “But Paul, I get tired of dealing with the same old people and their same old problems.”

• “But Paul, Ephesus is so wicked; so worldly.” 

• “But Paul, I want to be on the cutting edge, like you, not forgotten in the backwaters of a settled, pastoral ministry.”

But there are, on the other hand, blessings in a “remain on at Ephesus” ministry. You get to know people’s lives in depth. And yes, change is most often slow, but you have a much better chance of seeing change over a score of years rather than a score of months. You get to know people’s families, and extended family connections. Often times, extended family doesn’t get it. “Why does my Dad trust this pastor more than he trusts me?” And yes, there is the problem of one’s own predictability. The church family knows the pastor’s tendencies. But guess what? I also know yours. Some of it is double-edged. I carry the weight of peoples’ secrets that will remain unshared forever. And funerals of people I love are killers. To quote the song, “every time we say good-bye, I die a little.” But then, when one remains on at Milford, there are a lot less good-bye’s

Christ Jesus, who is our hope

Paul begins his letter to Timothy with this little phrase, perhaps innocuous, but certainly not insignificant: “Christ Jesus, who is our hope.” For followers of Jesus, He is our hope. Which means, there are certain things that must not be our hope.

1. My health is not my hope

There is a saying, “If you have your health, you have everything.” In light of our Biblical phrase, “Christ Jesus, who is our hope,” this popular saying is patently untrue. First of all, if you have your health, and not Christ, then in the end, you will have nothing. Secondly, if you don’t have your health, but you have Christ, you do indeed have everything.

2. My spouse is not my hope

A good marriage is a wonderful thing. And I love my wife. But she is not my hope. And actuarily, it would be best if I were not hers, since she will likely live longer, without me, but not without Christ. She will still have her hope.

3. My house is not my hope

Oh, goodness, no. I am thankful for our house, but some days I feel that I’m a prisoner to it. If it’s not maintenance to stay the decay, it’s improvements to keep up with the times. No, my house is not my hope.

4. My retirement is not my hope

I think “retirement” may be a construction of sociologists, similar to “adolescence,” in which at least a few of both classes are excused for living irresponsibly. If retirement is your hope, you will find it short-lived and short-sighted. We must always ask, “And what then?” “Retirement years” are just as much preparation for the enjoyment of our true hope as are any earlier years of our lives.

5. My pleasures are not my hope

We are a pleasure-seeking, pleasure-indulging society. We believe that our happiness is linked to our pleasures. But pleasures, like spouses, are not designed to be the substance of our hope. Know this, that your hope is linked to your worship, and we ought not worship our spouses, or our pleasures, but rather, Christ Jesus, who is our hope.