Not-so-Strong Timothy

Not-so-Strong Timothy

The world is made up of people with different personalities and different temperaments. It is part of the amazing variety which God designed into all creation. And yet, curiously, we tend to think that others should be more like us.

They are type-A’s and type-B’s. You know the “A’s” because they pretty much announce themselves wherever they go. The “B’s”, not so much. Why would you brag about being second class? And yet we know that under every Type-A there are a host of Type-B’s doing the more mundane work, and often doing it quietly. Paul was a Type-A, praise the Lord. Timothy, Type-B, and again, praise the Lord.

A lot of us are much like Timothy. No, we do not take God’s strength for granted and presume that it is our own (like Samson). Rather, we mistrust the availability of such strength, and are tempted to shrink from hard tasks at hand rather than take necessary steps of faith (also hard) that will lead to an experience of strengthening that comes from God.

I think of Timothy as a great helper to Paul. Paul could not do all that he did without helpers, and Timothy was especially dear to him. In 1 Corinthians 4, Paul refers to Timothy “my beloved and faithful child in the Lord.” Paul, whose life was spent in the furtherance of the Gospel, also poured himself into Timothy.

So Timothy was called for a time to live in Paul’s shadow. Paul was a giant in faith and passion, and his shadow was broad. It was a good place to be. Paul’s faith would have a strengthening affect on others - on Timothy. But when called to leave the shadow, that may have been when Timothy would begin to quaver. Maybe Paul could face down all these enemies, but Timothy was not so sure.

In my mind, Psalm 3 seems to address the Timothy’s of the world, the Type-B’s. Let’s see if it fits. It takes a person who has counted himself out and brings him around so that he finds confidence in God once again. The sovereign God is tender to such people: Psalm 3:3 - “But You, O LORD, are a shield about me, My glory, and the One who lifts my head.” The Lord provides the struggling soul with unassailable protection all around; one finds that the glory of God outshines the glory of men; and our strong and kind Savior lifts our downcast faces so that we can look in His face and be assured.

In light of this, Timothy-types, who may not have found their courage, find their voice, and they cry out (and keep crying out) to the Lord. The chorus of that song/prayer goes like this: “And He answered me from His holy mountain.” What do you do when you find the future to be bewildering and intimidating? Take it to the Lord in prayer. What is the result? Hope and a new confidence and, we assume, a new boldness. Listen to the awakened believer in the bright, new morning of faith and confidence: “I will not be afraid of ten thousands of people Who have set themselves against me round about.” Are you shocked by the change? Could that same change happen in Timothy? In you?

All along, Timothy had stayed faithful in the small things; the ordinary things. Listen to Paul describe him: “I have no one else of kindred spirit who will genuinely be concerned for your welfare. 21 For they all seek after their own interests, not those of Christ Jesus. 22 But you know of his proven worth, that he served with me in the furtherance of the gospel like a child serving his father” (Philippians 2:20-22).

Timothy was not a flake or a bum. He was a faithful servant, a faithful servant who at times found the low-water level of his faith falling below the red line. This would result then, not in over-reaching heroic efforts to make things happen. It would rather lead him to doubt himself and his place in the whole Gospel project. But again, if we allow Psalm 3 to write the end of the story, we find the kind of confidence in Timothy that sounds like this: Psa. 3:8 “Salvation belongs to the LORD; Your blessing be upon Your people!”

Psalm 2 (part 3) - The Only-Begotten

Psalm 2 (part 3) - The Only-Begotten

Psa. 2:7 “I will surely tell of the decree of the LORD:
He said to Me, ‘You are My Son,
Today I have begotten You.
8 ‘Ask of Me, and I will surely give the nations as Your inheritance, And the very ends of the earth as Your possession.
9 ‘You shall break them with a rod of iron,
You shall shatter them like earthenware.’”

Imagine being present in the midst of the heavenly council. There is the glory of the Father; the presence of the Son; the wind of the Spirit. Also we find the seraphim and cherubim, perhaps the elders as well that we find in Revelation 4 and 5. And there you are, tiny and scared like a church mouse. You can hardly breathe. Isaiah fell on his face. You probably should as well.

But let’s take a step further and find you behind a curtain as the Father and the Son whisper back and forth to one another in glorious intimate and profound words. Their secrets want to make your head explode with wonder. The Son will be installed (last week’s section) and begotten (this week’s section) into the world scene? And, at His request, He will be given Kingship and Mastery over everything? From Jerusalem to the ends of the earth? Every enemy will be vanquished, and He will be King of kings and Lord of lords. And there you are quivering and trying to disappear.

This divine interaction tells the story of the outcome of human history. This is where we will end up, with earth’s ruin ruined, and the glory of the Son vindicated. We do not know all the steps to get there. But man, oh man, you had better be standing on the Son’s side when it comes about.

This glory of the Son is often called into question by the use of the word “begotten.” It certainly is used most commonly of bearing children. If that is the case here, then the Son would be an offspring of the Father, something of a creation of the Father, and therefore not God Himself. Remember, in our understanding of the Trinity, there is but one God with Three Person. All are fully God and not brought about by the others.

In the verse above the title, we see the word used in the Book of Job. In a section where God speaks, God asks about begetting and giving birth in creation. But the answer seems to be, no, rather these things were established by the eternal decree of God, a phrase that we find here in Psalm 2. The Trinitarian God has in the forever past decreed that the Son would, one day, be revealed to the world in an action that is so mysterious, we have to stretch words to describe it. God in this Psalm dictates the use of “installed” or “begotten,” unmasked to the world as the One who will rule in a new heavens and new earth which will be fully submissive and reconciled to God.

The way this is described in the NT uses the same word, with safeguards and curbs wrapped around to keep us from being too literal with “begotten.” John 1:14 “And the Word (the Son) became flesh, and dwelt among us, and we saw His glory, glory as of the only begotten from the Father, full of grace and truth.” That is, the Word, who already existed before the unveiling, now reveals, according to divine eternal decree, the glory of the Father, the glory of the Godhead. Earlier in the chapter, John begins, “John 1:1 “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was in the beginning with God. 3 All things came into being through Him, and apart from Him nothing came into being that has come into being.”

Charles Wesley in Hark the Herald Angels Sing says it like this: “veiled in flesh, the Godhead see; hail the incarnate Deity, pleased as man with men to dwell, Jesus, our Immanuel” (God with us). Jesus is not God’s creation. He is Himself God the Son, one with the Father and the Spirit. He deserves the same worship as does the Father.

Between a Rock and a Hard Place

Between a Rock and a Hard Place

If you had never heard of “the Strait of Hormuz” before, you have no doubt heard about it now. Because of hostilities, one nation is impeding the flow of ocean vessels through this strait, with ships “trapped” both inside and outside the Persian Gulf. One of the key categories of products being held hostage is energy.

This newsletter is not about geopolitics, so the description above is illustrative of another energy problem. When we think about the members of the Trinity: Father, Son and Spirit, it is the Spirit who brings energy to the church’s and the believer’s life in order to enable us to do the will of God. It is not oil, though that emblem is used in the Bible. It is a spiritual energy, a spiritual enablement that allows us to serve in ways that would be impossible without such energy.

As oil and fertilizer are being held up by the hostilities around the Strait of Hormuz, so spiritual enablements are similarly obstructed by spiritual hostilities. We sometimes summarize these hostilities by referring to an unholy trinity: the world, the flesh, and the devil. All three of these work against the free flow of the Spirit’s energy into the life of the church and the life of the Christian.

Think with me for a minute about that listing of the fruit of the Spirit in Galatians 5: 22 “But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, 23 gentleness, self-control.” Is the flow of such things ever impeded in your life? Of course it is. Why? Well, it could be different reasons, but they would find their root in sins of the flesh, or the influence of the world, or the opposition of the devil. And as sure as there are hostilities between tribes and nations in the world, there are spiritual hostilities opposing the work of the Spirit in our lives. Some of these are very, very close to home.

And it is that battle close to home, inside our own souls, that we should address first. Yes, it is convenient for us to blame the ungodliness of the world or the schemes of the devil, but in the end, without the flesh, those may not be so effective. What is flesh? It is you and I adopting a self-sufficient attitude toward the governance of our lives. We want to do what we want to do. We choose to set our own agenda. We make our own decisions without time and attention to what God wants. And it creates an energy blockade.

The problem is the problem of one’s own self, and it is through our own self-centeredness that we obstruct the Spirit with the “Strait of Me.” We are our own worst enemy, and we ourselves are the obstacle over which we stumble, obstructing the free flow of the Spirit’s energetic graces, such as the fruit of the Spirit.

The Reformers who broke from the Roman sacramental system had to study their Bibles and reformulate how it is that God’s grace flows to us. In my understanding of the sacramental system, one is given “chunks of grace” per sacrament performed or to which one submits. Go to confession, get a chunk of grace; last rites, get your final chunk. But the Bible describes other “means (conduits) of grace,” and they see these means as ways of adjusting our posture before God to seek the continual flow of His grace into our lives. Prayer is one of these means of grace, not a meritorious act, but a posture of supplication for God’s mercy and grace in our lives. Attention to God’s Word is a means also, as is the gathering of the people of God under the ministry of the Word, including participation in the ordinances of Baptism and Lord’s Table. All of these put the self in its proper place, with bowed head and bended knee to the One whom we worship. We do not worship ourselves or the church. We worship the Head of the Church, the Son of God who loved us and gave Himself for us.

When we leave off from such personal and congregational practices, done honestly and humbly, we are in a position to enjoy the free flow of the Spirit’s energy that produces good things from above. May such straits be opened. May our hearts be open to what God wants to do in us and through us.

Hosanna Sunday

Hosanna Sunday

I know why they call it “Palm Sunday.” But I think they could have done better. It’s better than Easter, or “Ishtar,” or whatever. Both could be improved. The pastor under whom I served when a youth pastor a hundred years ago always used Resurrection Sunday for Easter, religiously. He would also wear orange on St. Patrick’s Day. He was an interesting dude.

For Palm Sunday I would suggest Hosanna Sunday. “Hosanna” is a Hebrew terms that means, “Lord, save us,” and was most probably a heart-felt cry on the part of many of the people as Jesus rode the colt into Jerusalem. As far as palms go, they are mentioned in the Bible, though I don’t see a clear connection.

In Leviticus 23:40, in the instructions concerning the Fall festival called the Feast of Booths (or, Tabernacles), we find this verse: 40 ‘Now on the first day you shall take for yourselves the foliage of beautiful trees, palm branches and boughs of leafy trees and willows of the brook, and you shall rejoice before the LORD your God for seven days.” In another text, it seems that perhaps the palm branches were also used in constructing booths for the outdoor harvest festival. But Jesus’ approach to Jerusalem was just before Passover, in the Spring, not the Fall. Also, only John mentions palm branches. The other Gospels mention leafy branches (leafy branch Sunday?).

Palm carvings are mentioned with regard to Solomon’s Temple in 1 Kings 6, and also Ezekiel’s future temple prophecy in the closing chapters of his book. But again, I’m not seeing a clear connection. Perhaps Revelation 7:9-10 opens a future look: Rev. 7:9 After these things I looked, and behold, a great multitude which no one could count, from every nation and all tribes and peoples and tongues, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, and palm branches were in their hands; 10 and they cry out with a loud voice, saying,“Salvation to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb.” But, as you know, Revelation hadn’t been written yet on this first Hosanna Sunday.

It is a strange Sunday, and it seems we don’t know exactly what to do with it. The pastor of the church we attended last Sunday was invited away this week, but chose to be home for Palm Sunday. The inviter said, “Why? We treat it like every other Sunday.” Obviously, I’m away as well, sitting under a palm tree as I write this, though I think this coming Sunday’s service in Milford, Hosanna Sunday, is going to be extra special.

This will just be the second Sunday before Resurrection Sunday that we have missed. The first time was 34 years ago when we had travelled to N. Carolina with our young kids and had planned to be home for Hosanna Sunday. Taylor was showing strange symptoms, always thirsty, and finally we called home to June Jones, an RN in our congregation. She said to go to emergency right away, and we did. It was a slow-moving little hospital in Blowing Rock, NC that also doubled as a nursing home. The old doctor plodded along until he took a blood test and said Taylor’s blood sugar was at 1300. If Taylor had been older than 8, he would probably have been in a coma. That was our introduction to Type I diabetes, and we weren’t going anywhere until they were able to get his blood sugars under control and until they could trust his parents to get him home safely (learning how to test and give shots). 

The doctor invited us to his church, Methodist, I believe, for their Palm Sunday service. You know, celebratory and all. We sat there with tears running down our faces as everybody said “Hosanna,” “Lord, save us.” Well, He did. Jeff and June travelled to N. Carolina to shepherd us home. Andy Rogers, our youth pastor, preached in Milford that Sunday, and I’m sure he did very well.

So I guess Hosanna Sunday carries differing overtones for different people, but right now, I’ve got to go dry my eyes and blow my nose. God is good.

Psalm 1

Psalm 1

Psalm 1 is one of the best-known psalms It seems to have been written as an introductory psalm for the collection of psalms, also known as the Psalter. It features an important and common theme: the distinction between the righteous and the wicked.

Psalm 1 begins with the word “Blessed,” and is contrasted with the unwritten opposite, “cursed.” While the first three verses describe the blessedness of the righteous man, the psalm ends with this “curse”: “But the way of the wicked will perish.”

The importance of this distinction cannot be overstated. There are only two kinds of people in the world. There are the righteous, comprised of those who have been made righteous and those who will be made righteous; and then on the other hand, the wicked. There is no middle ground. There is not a third party. Members of both parties have an eternal destiny, whether an eternity in the presence of God and enjoy the blessedness of that presence, or those who will be forever separated from God and will experience the cursedness of that existence. Many people would like to imagine a different kind of existence, whether this life ending in death and then nothingness, or heaven for all, etc. But if there is only one, true God, and if, as He says in His Word, that we were created with eternal souls, then we will either spend eternity with Him, or without Him. And to live without God and His blessings is a severe existence. God is the source of our good. No God, no good.

It is interesting that Psalm 1 begins with the blessed man and describes what he avoids. We could summarize the three phrases this way: he avoids the influence of the world, comprised of the wicked, the sinners, and the scoffers. The “postures” indicate that, though we live and function in this world, we are not hanging out with the world. We do not place ourselves in position to be easily influenced.

Rather, and this is the central point of the psalm, the blessed man, the righteous man, meditates on the Law of the Lord. That is, he seeks to be influenced by God’s Word as opposed to influenced by the world. He feeds his heart and mind on what God says.

We experience something that I call a “covenantal shift” as we read and apply these words. Yes, as Christians, we meditate on the Law of the Lord. But our devotion is not merely with a book. We have a relationship with God through Jesus, the Living Word, and our fellowship is with Him, defined for us and illustrated for us in the written Word. A person can be a student of the Bible but not be a Christian. To know God, and to know God by knowing Christ, is an essential aspect of the Christian faith, along with submission to God’s Word.

Let me say it again with the words of the psalm in mind. This relational Christianity that allows us to know the Trinitarian God personally while seeking daily direction from God in the Scriptures will produce fruit. A person can study Scripture mechanically, with the relationships mentioned above, and be as dry and brittle as a dead tree. They can discuss theology and the Bible with the best of them. But without the relationship, there is not blessedness, no vitality, no usefulness, no intimacy.

Such people will not have proper standing, as I would explain the phrase, in the judgment. We don’t stand well before God with Bible knowledge. We stand well in the judgment clothed in the righteousness of Christ which comes through faith and trust in Him, our Savior whom we love.

The world has had quite enough of dry Christianity (which is really no Christianity at all). The world does not need Bible answer-men. The world needs men and women who know Jesus, and live by His Word.

Be Killing Sin, or It will be Killing You

Be Killing Sin, or It will be Killing You

The Amalekites were enemies of Israel. They were a wicked and willing obstacle in God’s plan for His people, and because of this and their sin, they were to be destroyed. This is what the prophet Samuel told King Saul in 1 Samuel 15, something that Saul failed to do in its entirety, and it would come back to plague the people years, even centuries, later. Be killing sin or it will be killing you.

The king of the Amalekites was named Agag, not a particularly attractive name, but perhaps traditional. There was a reference to a king Agag of the Amalekites way back in Numbers 24, written in the wilderness. 1 Samuel’s events occur years later. But even back in Numbers 24, Balaam prophecies that Agag and the Amalekites will one day meet their end before Israel.

We do not have much appetite for the eradication of a people, but this is not an interpersonal or human rights matter; it is a divine disposition that the ungodly will not triumph over the people of God, whom God will protect to the uttermost. In the last judgment, we will see the full breadth of this divine determination in the separate destinations of heaven and hell. And, it is written explicitly in the Bible, God’s Word.

King Saul spared the king and some sacrificial animals. Samuel counters with the famous words, “Has the LORD as much delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices As in obeying the voice of the LORD?” (1 Sam 22:15). Saul was not fully obedient. He was not obedient in the killing of sin, and later, it would threaten to kill the people of God once again. It seems that there must of been other escapees of the required defeat and destruction, other descendants of King Agag, who Samuel killed himself when Saul would not. They would be called Agagites.

The Book of Esther covers events in the Persian Empire, dated in the 6th century, B.C. Some of the Jews from the captivity had returned to Jerusalem, but some had stayed, and Mordicai and his cousin Esther found themselves in the capital, Susa. The king’s second-in-command was named Haman. He was a man of almost comical self-promotion and arrogance. And, he was an Agagite: Esth. 3:1 “After these events King Ahasuerus promoted Haman, the son of Hammedatha the Agagite, and advanced him and established his authority over all the princes who were with him.”

Now the book of Esther is a fascinating story. You could read it easily in an hour, and you should. It is the amazing story of the preservation of God’s people, a fragment of God’s people, far from home and away from the Promised Land, surrounded by pagan people. Yet God was able to do so, and He did.

The enemy of the people of God in the Book of Esther seems to be a descendant of the Amalekite people, and a descendant particularly of the king’s family, the Agagites, that were to be destroyed by Saul 500 years earlier. He failed in his assignment, and since he did not “kill sin”, back then, it would still be alive to kill God’s people 500 years later. Be killing sin or it will be killing you.

The phrase that I keep repeating, and the title of this article, is not mine. It is found In John Owen’s work, “The Mortification of Sin in Believers.” Owen, the Puritan, is both thorough and helpful. But if you never read the book, you can gain a lot from just the little quote from the book: “Be killing sin, or it will be killing you.”

Owen also is not producing original thoughts. As a good preacher, he relies on the Scriptures, and he finds there verses like this: Gal. 5:16 “Now those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires.” Our actions in this regard are to be repeated, so often as sin begins to emerge from the dirty soil of our hearts. The ultimate destruction of sin is at the hand of Christ. But the instruction comes to us, and we must be careful to obey: “Be killing sin, or it will be killing you.”

Don’t Bet on It

Don’t Bet on It

Gambling is having its moment. But I’m not sure it’s a moment. Once accepted as acceptable, like living with your girlfriend, I don’t think society will trend back to a a higher morality or more wise sensibility. Gambling is a game, or, if you are poor, your last best chance to solve your problems. It’s a dumb game and a worse life choice, but let’s think about it.

First, I’m not an expert gambler, so perhaps you may think I have no standing by which to weigh in. And, I am confused about what gambling is and what it isn’t. I would wager (no, I wouldn’t) that you are confused about it as well.

Was Warren Buffett a gambler? No, most would say that he was an investor. What is the difference? One factor asks if the activity leans toward chance, or skill. Buffett was a skilled investor. Some perhaps could “play” the stock market, and for them it would be gambling. No skill. In addition to skill, gambling demands that you put something like money on the bet. A guessing game is not a gambling bet unless you put money on it. Buffett, of course, invested lots of money. But the money alone doesn’t make it gambling. And also, is there a prize? Bragging rights that you were right and your buddy was wrong is not a gambling prize. But if you are able to win something of value, it may be gambling. Buffett won on many of his investments, and lost on a few as well. It seems that it was skill that sets him and other serious investors apart.

The point that makes sense to me is whether it is a serious thing or a play thing. Gambling seems to be a play thing. Since it is a game of chance, it is not serious. It is dangerous. We do not know what tomorrow holds, and research simply cannot reduce the level of chance. The number of factors involved make the serious likelihood impossible.

We take risks every single day, and we may be confused at times as to whether a “gamble” is involved. We want to be responsible and serious, and there are ways to do that. But it seems necessary to remind ourselves that only God has no risk and never gambles. Why? Because He knows at once all the contingencies of yesterday, today, and all the tomorrows for eternity. It is a reason to trust God, because we dare not trust ourselves to weigh all the factors which we cannot possibly assemble in our poor and prejudiced brains.

Perhaps the presence of “discretionary income” explains the rise of the gambling industry. We are a prosperous people, and many have money left over after the bills are paid. What to do with it? Gamble it away. I’m not sure I believe this theory, since poor people seek to get in on the gambling as well. When they lose, and they will, they have no way to get out of the hole they have created.

But I would like to question the validity of “discretionary income” for the Christian. We believe that life and all that we have is a gift from God, and as His servants, we are to steward our resources, not primarily for the good or pleasure of ourselves, but for the good or glory of the Master who redeemed us. Has God blessed us with “discretionary income” so that we can buy lottery tickets or place a bet on how many points some basketball player that we don’t know will score or what will end up being the balance of Republican vs. Democrats in the House and Senate following the 2026 elections? Is that why he has placed us in this particular tie and place, so that we can blow money on vapid games?

In the parable to the talents, three who were accountable to the Master were given various sums to invest, with the principal and interest to be returned to the Master in the future. Two were serious. One was a lout. He dug a hole and threw the money in. Was he commended by the Master? Don’t bet on it.

If … Then

If … Then

The Bible is written in words, and those words comprise the Word of God. The Spirit of God superintended over men to write, using words, that which God wanted written. The writings bore the style of the writers, using their vocabulary and grammar, and yet they wrote exactly what God wanted. We call this the inspiration of Scripture. No other set of writings is so inspired.

In our daily emails, we have been studying patterns of words and phrases in the Bible: all the “but’s” of the Bible; things sinners say; most recently, references to pride. I have looked at all the promises of the Bible, and will likely sample the “do not’s” of the Bible in future daily emails. But right now, I’m working on “if … then” statements.

“If … then” statements are conditional statements rather than absolute. Oh, there is an absoluteness to them, but it is conditional on the action you or another party take. The very first “If … then” statement in the Bible is in Genesis 4, and it is God speaking to an angry Cain, who even at this moment may be contemplating the murder of his brother Abel. God says to him, “If you do well, will (you) not be lifted up? And if you do not do well, sin is crouching at the door; and its desire is for you, but you must master it.” (Genesis 4:7 NAS95) You will notice that there is no printed “then” in the text. It is understood. We do the same thing in our contemporary speech.

I take “doing well” or “not doing well” to refer to how one approaches God. Abel approached God with an acceptable offering, with a sacrificed lamb, foreshadowing our approach to God through the sacrifice of Christ. Cain had approached God with goods from the garden, things which quickly rot. He had not done well, but it appears that he still could do so. But if not, then sin is lying (better than “crouching”) at the door. It is lying in wait. It is seeking to gain the upper hand. God says, “you must master it.” But, can you?

The stakes are high. If you do well, your will be raised up. I take that to mean an offering that admits the need for atonement that will result in forgiveness and favor. If you do not … well, that is another story, and a sad one at that. “You must master it.” But can we master sin?

The account of much of world history is that men and women have more often been mastered by sin rather than they themselves mastering it. For many, life is comprised of a difficult dance with sin, seeking to blunt its attacks and mitigate its influence. We seek to hide it and keep it secret. We end up being deceptive about sin, and thus deceive even our own selves. We find that as we seek to manage sin, it manages us. We excuse and rationalize and blame. But managing sin and mastering sin are two very different things. And with sin at the door, we have to be on our game all the time.

I am glad that in the face of our failure to master sin, God has followed the “if … then” with a “so then.” In light of our inability and unwillingness to defeat the sin that is at the door, both inside and out, God sent His Son to be the propitiation for our sin. That is, Jesus is the One who came and lived the one sinless life that has ever been lived on this planet, and then died the only satisfactory, sacrificial and substitutionary death in our behalf. He mastered sin when we could not. He mastered sin for us. He mastered sin for those who will recognize Jesus as their Master.

I do not have the last word on this, thank the Lord, but it appears Cain never found or accepted his or God’s mastery of sin. He went his own way, did his own thing, and died his own death. He died with his sin, and away from God. He could have done better, by following Abel; by following Christ.

Righteousness - Doing the Right things Rightly

Righteousness - Doing the Right things Rightly

We are not saved by our righteousness. It’s a good thing, because we do a lot of wrong things, or perhaps a lot of right things wrongly. No, we are saved, first and primarily, not by our righteousness but by Christ’s righteousness. By faith in Him, He gives to us what we could not accomplish ourselves, and then, and only then, we seek to follow Him righteously - that is, doing the right things rightly. But what are the right things?

Some would go to the Ten Commandments, but I’m not sure whether we get the depth of it all, right from the beginning: “no other gods before Me.” It also ends with a tough demand: “you shall not covet.” Those are right things, and big things. If we find the Decalogue inconvenient, where do we go next? The short form these days seems to be “Love God, love neighbor.” Good direction, but short on the detail. What does it entail?

I would like to suggest two passages from the Bible that seem to outline the proper direction, one from the Old Testament, and one from the New. The first is from the prophet Micah, chapter 6 and verse 8. The first line answers the question we are asking:
He has told you, O man, what is good;
And what does the LORD require of you
But to do justice, to love kindness,
And to walk humbly with your God?
(Micah 6:8 NAS95)

To “do justice” does not mean just to talk about it. It does not say to fix things in places where you have no influence. Where you live, in your setting, with people around you, do justice. This would naturally point you to “hard luck” cases and the disadvantaged. It leads to the second element, which is to love kindness. This translation, “kindness,” is very weak. It speaks of covenant love and loyalty. Love those to whom you are bound, your family, your church family, your community. And yes, be kind. And in all of this, you walk in the shadow of God’s presence and grace, not making a name for yourself, but giving glory to Him. That’s a start in doing the right things rightly.

Jesus faced off with the Pharisees and gave them a piece of His mind, that being the mind of Christ. Here is what He said:

“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you tithe mint and dill and cummin, and have neglected the weightier provisions of the law: justice and mercy and faithfulness; (Matthew 23:23 NAS95)

It seems that the Pharisees were doing some of the right things, but wrongly. It is wrong when we focus on minor issues and neglect major issues. If you give your spouse a birthday card, good for you, but not if you are cheating on him or her. Whatever the dumb card says, it is a lie. “Justice, mercy and faithfulness” are major. It seems that this NT passage mirrors the Old: the first elements line up; mercy corresponds with the covenant love and loyalty of Micah 6:8; and faithfulness can easily hold hands with a humble walk with God. The Pharisees were certainly in a place to help people who were hurting, but instead, they were counting and weighing the spice drawer. Jesus didn’t die for the spice drawer. He died for that neglected kid down the street. The Pharisees were also very good, extremely good, at keeping track of other people’s sins. This makes them experts at passing down judgment, which is not the same things as justice, and which is the exact opposite of mercy. Those who are called children of God have received a God-sized boatload of mercy, and we should be extravagant in sharing it with others who need it, and especially those who know that they need it. And then there is faithfulness, which means, in part, do things every day, starting today. May God help us to do the right things in the right way.

Your Clock and Your Calendar

Your Clock and Your Calendar

I have this scenario in my mind that is of a cartoon nature. Moses is up on Mt. Sinai taking dictation from God. The content is the Law of God, the covenant stipulations by which Israel will be held accountable. Every word is important. But dictation in those days was difficult. Moses would have been using some kind of stone chisel on stone tablets. It had to be hard work. And so as God speaks the words of God, Moses takes dictation, and finally, in frustration, Moses says to God, “could You please slow it down a little?”

The irony of this is that we say the exact opposite to God all the time. God is working out His purposes in human history, shaping nations and individuals according to His infinite wisdom. If we were to multiply all the pleas directed heavenward, there would be many voices saying, “Could you please hurry it up?”

The point, of course, is that we are not in charge of God’s pacing. It is wrong for us to think that God, the Creator of heaven and earth, should accommodate our clocks and calendars. In fact, to a large measure, I would hold that our clocks and calendars matter little to God.

There verse in Galatians 4:4 reads: “But when the fullness of the time came, God sent forth His Son, born of a woman, born under the Law.” I’ve sat through calendar meetings, and I’ve heard people say of a suggested date, “That doesn’t really work for me.” Could you hear Joseph or Mary saying such a thing about the birth of Jesus? “God, this is not the ideal time for me.” But what Paul is saying in Galatians 4, among other things, is that the fullness of time is decided by God, not by you or me. How could we possibly know anything about the fullness of time or the skinniness of time? We have already forgotten the lessons of yesterday and we don’t have a clue about tomorrow. How could we possibly decide? And if that is true for the birth of Jesus, I suspect it is also true of a whole host of other things as well.

You might sit with your clock or your calendar and plan things out very carefully. You try and cover all the angles; all the contingencies. And do you know what happens? Something interrupts. God interrupts. Your calendar is soon filled with scratch marks.

Jesus said in John’s Gospel, chapter 7, “My time has not yet come.” He implies that there will be a time when His time in fact has arrived. But not yet. He seems to know something of that time. The disciples do not. God is bringing together many threads that will result in the death of the Messiah, in the fullness of time; at just the right time. The disciples are thinking about human risk factors. Jesus is thinking about eternal salvation. It will involve His death, His time.

Are there calendars written this week that have that kind of “time,” the day of one’s death, planned out? We don’t know, do we? But God does. Our clock and calendar will not reflect that major death-event in our plans, but God already knows. And, we yield to His perfect plan. We yield to it because we have no other choice.

Let me just add one more thought on top of the last. It says above, “we yield to His perfect plan.” We have being talking about God’s choice of time, but we should also think about God’s choice of Person, of His Son, Jesus, as the fulcrum of history and the source of salvation. If you really want to yield to His plan, you will keep your eraser close to your calendar, but you will also bow before His Person. Just as your calendar does not dictate to God the order or timing of events, neither do you get to choose your own savior. God has appointed only one, and His name is Jesus, and according to Scripture, the time for you to accept Him is now

- 2Cor. 6:1   And working together with Him, we also urge you not to receive the grace of God in vain — 2 for He says, “AT THE ACCEPTABLE TIME I LISTENED TO YOU, AND ON THE DAY OF SALVATION I HELPED YOU.”
Behold, now is “THE ACCEPTABLE TIME,” behold, now is “THE DAY OF SALVATION” —

Sad Christmas

Sad Christmas

It has struck me this year more than before, and it struck me again sitting next to my mom at her assisted living, listening to a guest group from a church singing Christmas Caroles. So many of the caroles are sad. Now maybe the choir had something to do with it, but they were doing something very nice for the residents, so I’m not going to blame them. Several caroles are written in a minor key. Some are sad. Some are downright depressing.

You might decide that sadness is in the ear of the listener, and that those songs wouldn’t be so sad if weren’t for my already sour disposition. Well, thank you for that, but if you don’t hear the sadness in the songs, then your sappiness has stolen your senses. There is something wrong here, black clouds and heavy hearts.

The Roman Empire rules. Herod is the fake king, given authority by Rome. The soldiers are not hidden, and the crucifixions on the road out of Jerusalem are sickening. The God that they worshipped has been silent for 400 years, which is a really long time (four hundred years ago for us would have been 1625). That’s how long it had been, and the people of God’s faith had grown old and brittle. The promises of God seemed stale. Little freedom and little hope.

So sad songs? What other kind could there be, given the situation? The authors of the caroles, written years and even centuries after the birth of Jesus, are seeking to catch the mood of “those living in darkness.” And then, finally, Jesus is born, and the Great Light shines.

When we get to this point, we think that every problem is solved, but it’s not. As Jesus lives and grows and then dies, Rome is still in power. Right after Jesus is born, baby boys around Bethlehem are murdered, because of the birth of Jesus, as interpreted by Herod. For so many families, the child is gone, and this First Christmas is Sad Christmas.

And this year, this Christmas for many will be sad due to the empty places around the tree and table. But Jesus has come, and that makes all the difference. And yet, and yet … does it? Because Jesus has come, and the chair is still empty. Yes, every tear will one day be wiped away, but that’s the rub - one day, not today.

For those who pray for a solution, we say that there is one, and there is. The solution is found in Jesus. He is gathering His people, and many children will come home. And we are glad for all the young people who find their way back. But the Scripture says a remnant will return, meaning that many will not, and we are not sure about yours, or if you will be alive to see it.

Christmas is sad when it is just about me and mine. It is the fallacy of judging the truth with only the facts at hand, and with the feelings of the heart. Christmas can only be glad when our faces are lifted to heaven, and we say with meaning, this is not all there is, and there the richness of the community of believers will be full and fully satisfying to all who are included. That is faith that battles with our feelings, and the feelings of those who suffered heartache and loss in very real ways. Our faith asserts that “it will be worth it all, when we see Jesus,” though it is difficult to explain now.

One of the caroles Mom and I heard sung, that should have been happy, but sounded sad, was “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day. The third verse goes, “And in despair I bowed my head: ‘There is no peace on earth,’ I said, For hate is strong, and mocks the song Of peace on earth, good will to men.” Don’t get stuck in the third verse, for the song goes on and reminds us that our feelings can’t grasp the grandness of the finale. Only there from that perspective will we find meaning and comfort, and only by faith. 

Heart of Hearts

Heart of Hearts

I’ve heard the phrase used, and used it myself: heart of hearts. I supposed it meant, deep down. This is what I seriously think, or deeply love, in my heart of hearts. 

The phrase (or something quite similar) seems to have been first used by Shakespeare in Hamlet, a book, and an author I never read. We had no serious literature in my high school (which is a poor excuse), and though I read a lot of history in college, not a lot of literature. I’ve been drawn to a few significant authors since, but never Shakespeare. I think maybe I should read Hamlet.

I don’t really know the story, and I’m not sure it matters. When I think of “heart of hearts,” I tend to think a little more theologically rather than in terms of literature. Now to be sure, two people can think about something theologically and come up with very different views. But hear me out.

I am thinking about Mary, who would be the mother of Jesus, and the strange appearance of the angel who informed her of what would soon happen. She would conceive a child by way of the operation of the Holy Spirit. This was not a suggestion. It seems not to have been an invitation or a proposal. It was a statement: this is what will be.

And yet, as we read the text in Luke, Mary says the following at the end of the conversation with the angel: “Behold, the bondslave of the Lord; may it be done to me according to your word” (Lk 1:38). She consents to what God has ordained. And so now I ask a sticky question: did she operate according to her free will?

This is where my own definition (not Shakespeare’s) to the phrase “heart of hearts” comes in. Mary willingly assented to the plan of God that would seriously upend her life because her heart was in His hand. God had taken Mary’s heart in hand and had prepared her for a very special life of service, unbeknownst to her ahead of time, and when your heart is in God’s hand, you can’t say no. Yet she herself assented personally and freely, though she could do no other. 

Oh, I believe that there are many cases where people in fact have said “no” to God. I have to admit that I have done so myself, though I would prefer to speak of Biblical examples, like Jonah. Perhaps most of life is filled with these examples of being able to take a right turn or a left, to follow God’s will or, our own. But then there are these critical moments, in our own lives, or in Mary’s, or perhaps also Moses’ experience.

As Moses stood at the burning bush and was commissioned to represent the people of Israel before Pharaoh, the supreme leader of Egypt, and perhaps the most powerful man in the world at the time, he was dead to rights. Oh, he tried to says “No,” more than once; in fact, many times. But God would not have it. You will lead my people. Moses embraced the calling. It seems he could do no other. His life was in the hand of God, and the heart of God had mastered his own heart, even though Moses’ heart desperately sought to avoid what he knew would be a very difficult, seemingly impossible situation.

I have more thoughts about this, but the perfect picture is that of Jesus, whose heart was in the heart of the Father, and at each step, He fully agreed and fully consented to do the will of the Father, even at great cost to Himself. Jesus could have done no other. And if that is true of Jesus, why would that not be true of you?

Big Brains and Bad Hearts

Big Brains and Bad Hearts

Big brains and good hearts: they do not necessarily go together.

I’m thinking here about the human brain, that neurological organ that is studied and continues to amaze. What are the limits of the human brain? And the heart? I am not thinking of the heart studied in cardiology. I am thinking rather of the Biblical heart, from which flow the issues of life (Proverbs 4:23, “Keep your heart with all diligence; for out of it are the issues of life.”

By “big brain,” I mean smart people. They are people who use their brains to remember and to synthesize and to figure things out. They have a hunger to learn, and they want to know how things work. They want to be able to do what others do, whether to learn the art of juggling, or to design tall buildings. We know that the brain can develop strengths in many different directions, and that it can be a powerful tool. Oh, and it was created by God in man and woman, and it has served them well, though not as well as we would have liked.

A “good heart” is a bit of a puzzle. This is the heart that the surgeons cannot find when they open your chest. It is the center of your being, and is immaterial. Your heart is the real “you.” It shapes how you think and how you act and react. Your spiritual heart causes you to see yourself in a certain way, and to see the world in a certain way. Your most noble thoughts and actions arise from your heart. So do those thoughts and attitudes and words and actions over which you are most ashamed (or, should be)

Would it make sense that those with the biggest brains would also have the best hearts? It is a pleasant fantasy, and yet it is not necessarily so. There are brilliant people who have very dark hearts. There are very simple people who seem to have hearts that are unusually sincere and pure. Neither does it work in reverse. A person with a good heart does not immediately become “brainy.”

In redemption, that plan of God to bring about the recovery of this fallen world, and humans in particular, – where does God begin? Does He begin with the brain, or the heart? You may know the answer, and yes, it is the heart. In theology, it is called regeneration,and Jeremiah and Ezekiel describe this “heart change” in metaphorical terms (since, after all, we are speaking of things spiritual, not physical). Jesus describes it as being born from above, or being born again. But it doesn’t start with the brain. It starts with God’s attention to our heart.

So once the heart is cured, why does it not spread to the brain? Oh, it will, in measure, over time, if one follows the Word and the Spirit. But these brains of ours are going to be distorted to one degree or another until the renewal of all things, when Jesus comes again. In fact, the more we depend on our brains without coming to terms with their deficiencies, the more likely we will be given over to pride and a kind of certitude that refuses to admit that one is wrong.

Well, at least we have whole hearts, right? No, even there we find that our hearts are “prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love.” Our hearts are gradually being discipled even as we remain anchored to Jesus, seeking to learn from Him, in dependence upon the Word and the Spirit. Welcome to life in a fallen world. Big Brains. Bad Hearts. And a few who are on the road to restoration.

The Crooked made Straight

The Crooked made Straight

What if there were a medicine that would straighten out all that is crooked? The toothpicks fall out of the box on the floor, and there they lay in all directions. What would it take to make them straight? I think of the crookedness as disarray; as things not being the way they are supposed to be. And sadly, there is much that is not the way it is supposed to be.

What if gratefulness straightened out all that was crooked? Suppose you are near-sighted, or far-sighted - it does not matter which - something is wrong, and there are things you can’t see clearly, whether near words or distant birds. What if, through the regular practice of gratefulness, your vision could improve?

It actually does, you know. Oh, I don’t think for a minute that gratefulness improves your physical vision, but what about your spiritual vision, your ability to see the goodness of God in every corner, and what is important over against the trivial, and the value of persons made in the image of God and loved by Him. That is pretty good vision, and many of us find ourselves shortsighted.

What if the regular practice of thankfulness could rid ourselves of aberrant cells in our body that threaten to reproduce and create a cancer that seek to destroy us? Again, God can cure cancer, but your thankfulness cannot. But your thankfulness can cure cancers of the soul, such as bitterness, or apathy, or selfishness, or resentment. And while I do know that there will be no cellular cancer in heaven, I believe that we should not be content to live with spiritual cancer in the meantime. And a regular practice of thankfulness may be the medicine that we need.

You may regard yourself as a thankful person. I hope that it is true. Do others hear you complain? That would be a red flag, wouldn't it? Do you find in yourself patches of soul-ish illnesses mentioned above: bitterness, apathy, selfishness, resentment. I mention them because I find them in myself. Do you find them in yourself? They are dead patches in the green lawn of gratefulness, and the dead patches are generally more noticeable than are the green areas.

Do you brush your teeth? Of course you do. I’ll leave flossing aside, since it seems to be a different matter, but we all brush our teeth, probably twice a day. Do you spend some time in thankfulness twice a day? Perhaps that is more like flossing, something you do once in a while. But do we really think that soul decay is less a problem than tooth decay? Yes, a bad tooth really hurts. But a bad soul carries a pain that is worse, though different. Soul pain may actually affect more those around you than yourself; soul pain is keenly felt by the Father, the Giver of such good gifts, while we may be oblivious.

Come, ye thankful people come, be thankful, and be healed.

Three-in-One

Three-in-One

The wonder and mystery of the Godhead is beyond us, and yet God has revealed Himself as the Three-in-One. One God, and yet three Persons. All illustrations are lacking, but here is my attempt:

In the mind of the Father is the most beautiful color that exists. The beauty of this color exceeds anything else that you could find in creation. If you were to see it, it would take your breath away. If you were to behold it, it would change your life. But, you cannot see into the mind of the Father. That which your heart desires and your soul seeks - it is beyond your reach, deep in the mind of God.

But God (oh, that little phrase), - but God - was unwilling to keep this beauty to Himself. He desired that it be shared, and that you see, and be changed. And this is where the second Person of the Trinity comes in. You see, it is the Father’s place to conceive the color that is beyond the beauty of any other color. But it is given to the Son to communicate the color. “And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us. And we beheld His glory (that color), the glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth (the beautiful color of grace and truth) (Jn 1:14, less the parentheses). When we see the Son, we something of the being of the Father, not physically, because the Father is Spirit. But we see something of who He is, His character. And, it is beautiful beyond words.

We see the beauty of the most majestic color hidden in the mind of God when Jesus speaks, and when He refuses to speak. We see it when He confronts, and when He overwhelms; when He forbids, and when He welcomes. We see it in all the ways that He lived; and we see it in the one way that He died. We see the beauty of the Father in the face of the Son. It takes our breath away, and we are changed.

When you are told of the beauty in the un-open-able can of heavenly color, you wonder. And when the lid is taken off the can, you see and believe. But it does not end there, does it? Because there are not only two members of the Godhead, but three: Father, Son, and Spirit. They are together God, and they are each one, God, one God. Their beauty is/are functions of all Three.

The beautiful color of paint in a can is indeed beautiful. But God never intended for that color to be observed, as in a museum. He intended for it to be displayed, to be expressed, to be worn. And so the Spirit applies to the lives of those who believe the beauty of the color that is demonstrated in Jesus and conceived of by the Father. We are adorned with such beauty, frail and foolish creatures that we are, and we are able to then continue to share what God the Father willed to have shared, as displayed by Jesus, with the assistance of the Spirit. The hidden beauty in the mind of the Father is revealed in the Son, and then applied to those who believe by the Spirit. It takes our breath away, and we are changed.

Grasping and Grabbing

Grasping and Grabbing

When Eve gave birth to Cain, she gloated over what she had gotten from (in spite of) the Lord. This is not how the text is rendered in NASB or most of our translations, but it would be a literal rendering. God had said, “You will surely die!” And she said, “Oh yeah! Not only didn’t I die, but I gave birth to another life!” Cain’s name is a transliteration of the Hebrew word for “get.” She “got” what she wanted. It seems to me a tale of grabbing and getting, grasping for what one wants, and it usually comes at a cost.

Another re-translations of mine is in Philippians 2, where Christ considered that equality with God was not something to be grasped. On the other hand, He “took the form of a servant.” But the word “took” is also translated in the active sense “received.” He didn’t grasp; He gave up something of great value. He did not “take” as if to steal what was not His. He received that which no high and holy King would ever want.

Jane and I have had both kinds of experiences, just in normal daily life. One category would be the purchase of a car. They cost money, you know. And at times, not having all that much, you decide what you can afford, and then you borrow. But in our case, there have been times when we have waited, and God has supplied something, not necessarily free, but on the cheap. And we enjoyed it as a gracious gift. Grace is so much better than grasping or grabbing.

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," the saying goes, and that applies to those vehicles for which I was most fond. That first Isuzu Trooper, damaged on three sides in a car accident, was a treasure. I got it for cheap and found replacement doors and had a blast with it. The Chevrolet Cavalier that was rear-ended received new life when a new body was given and the old engine placed in it, for free, by friends - more miles of grace and kindness. Other cars, when we “got” what we wanted and paid the price - not so satisfying. I am not sure how to categorize every case, but you know grace when you receive it.

The way of Jesus is in being given, and in giving; not grasping and grabbing. Salvation is not grasped or grabbed. It is received. Service happens as we step away from something that is nice for something that is better - hot chocolate at home vs. sitting and listening to a broken soul. Jesus did not call us to “get ahead.” If He would have done so, we would still be stuck, guilty in our sins. But He stepped aside from the most glorious to the mean and gritty. He did not grasp, but He gave. And He expects His followers to do the same.

Winning (now) is not Everything

Winning (now) is not Everything 

We have heard the “winning is everything.” Is it, really?

As I write, two baseball teams are left, playing for the right to be called World Series champions. They are scrapping and fighting, because winning is everything. You cannot be called “champion” unless you win the last game. But do you know what will crop up in the post-game discussion? “What about next year?” It seems that winning it all this year is not everything, since there is always another season.

Yes, there is always another season, and that changes the calculation on how we think about winning. So what if you did not win the final game? Were there accomplishments along the way that were actually more important than winning the final game? Were lives changed, or goals met, or a brotherhood formed, that will survive long after the celebration of a last game victory? Winning is not everything. What if your struggles in the present season are preparing you for what you will experience in the next season? Is that “winning”?

For Christians, the next season is not in this earthly life. Whatever accomplishment you may achieve here, it may not count for much over there. Winning now is not everything. Being the winner in the money sandbox is not real winning. Nicest house or fastest car? No. Travelling around the world. These may all be nice things, but they speak only to this-world accomplishments. They are not indicators of doing well in the next season.

There are believers who have served the Lord in difficult places who will be regarded as winners in the next season - the season that counts. There will be relatively less-gifted people who stewarded their gifts well who will be more richly rewarded than those with greater gifts, because they used well what they were given. There will be those who lived very short lives who, in those short years, accepted God’s plan for their shortened lives and served faithfully and testified clearly that living a short life in right relation to God far exceeds the value of living a long life in this world only to find that the ladder they climbed is leaning against the wrong reality.

I still think of Joseph, who married Mary, Jesus’ mother. He accepted the situation of a pregnant fiancé, though it was difficult to understand and impossible to explain. He obeyed God, at risk to his own life, let alone that of his wife and baby. He moved and started over and worked and prayed. And then he disappeared. No one would call Joseph a winner. Joseph went from marginal character to a missing person. Winning is not everything. 

And though I don’t know the whole story, I suspect in the next season, when we stand before God on the throne, Joseph and those like him may receive more honor than those who seemed to win it all in this world.

Adiaphora

Adiaphora

“Adiaphora” is a fascinating word to think about. It’s Greek (αδιαφορα), and the form above is plural. The website GotQuestions.org defines it this way:

Adiaphora, the concept of “things indifferent,” offers Christians a means of navigating non-salvational differences within the body of Christ, especially in matters that are neither strictly commanded nor forbidden by Scripture. Rooted in both biblical principles and historical application, adiaphora encourages believers to focus on core doctrines while allowing freedom in non-salvational matters.

Interestingly, this particular word does not appear in the Greek New Testament, but the concept certainly does. Consider Romans 14:1:

NASB: “Now accept the one who is weak in faith, but not to have quarrels over opinions.”
NKJV: “Receive one who is weak in the faith, but not to disputes over doubtful things.”

Those “doubtful things” are adiaphora.

They are not unimportant—but they are matters about which sincere Christians may disagree. Some hold strong convictions on one side; others, equally sincere, on the opposite. Yet these are not tests of faith. In our polarized age, we often struggle to handle disagreement graciously, but not every issue is ultimate.

Adiaphora in the NT came to include circumcision. As Paul’s pattern with Titus and Timothy shows, you could do it, or not. Today, we might think of subjects such as where to send your children to school, or the efficacy or ethics of vaccines, or the appropriate use—or avoidance—of certain technologies.

Scripture does not speak directly to these issues. We may differ, and still remain one united fellowship of believers, in full agreement with the truths Scripture clearly teaches.

In the early church, a sect called the Gnostics claimed to possess “secret knowledge.” Variations may still appear today with those who claim insight others supposedly lack. Yet the truth is, we all know far less than we imagine. Our knowledge is partial, and humility requires that we acknowledge it. We should certainly learn from one another, but always, like the disciples, we are called to “watch and pray.”

When the Bible speaks, we have God’s revealed truth—what He wants us to know, with certainty. Yet even then, our understanding is not exhaustive. God reveals what is necessary for faith and godliness, not everything there is to know. Therefore, wisdom and grace demand that we admit the limits of our understanding.

A quote often attributed to Richard Baxter, the English pastor who lived in the 1600’s in England and author of The Reformed Pastor, captures the point well: 

“Unity in things necessary; liberty in things unnecessary; and charity in all.” 

Wiersbe’s Reading Room

Wiersbe’s Reading Room

Many of you will recognize the name Warren Wiersbe—pastor, conference speaker, and author. Born in 1929, Wiersbe devoted his life to helping others understand and love God’s Word. Shortly before his passing in 2019, he donated his vast personal library to Cedarville University. That collection now has a place of honor in the university’s new Bible building: The Wiersbe Reading Room.

Jane and I were there for homecoming a couple of weeks ago. Between events, while others were catching up with old friends, I wandered into the reading room. Before long, I found myself surrounded by Wiersbe’s books—and drawn into one in particular.

Every volume I opened bore his name neatly inscribed on the flyleaf. The shelves were filled with a remarkable variety: theology, pastoral works, devotionals, biographies. Wiersbe himself wrote extensively—his well-loved “Be” series has been a staple in our Ladies’ Bible Study more than once. 
One important rule governs this room: no book may leave it. “Of every book in the room you may freely read,” I joked to myself, “but from the room no book shall be taken, lest you surely die.” (Genesis 2 speaks of another subject entirely—but the rule seemed just as serious here.)

Lately, I’ve been especially interested in Augustine of Hippo—a towering figure from the time of the Roman Empire’s fall, known for Confessions and The City of God. Augustine’s writings contrast the crumbling city of man with the enduring city of God.

On a shelf, one title caught my eye: Augustine the Thinker. I opened it and began to read—and before long, lost all sense of time. The pages felt crisp, almost untouched. It seemed that Wiersbe himself may never have opened this copy. Of course, with 13,000 volumes in his library, who could possibly have read them all? Still, I smiled at the thought that perhaps someday, in heaven, I might tell him what he missed in that book. Though, considering he may be in conversation with Augustine himself, I’d have to wait my turn—and I imagine there are no interruptions in heaven. I’ve since ordered a copy of Augustine the Thinker for myself—though, for now, it’s out of stock.

What was it that made this small experience so meaningful? Was it the room’s unmistakable “bookish” scent? The quiet sense of Wiersbe’s presence lingering there? Or perhaps it was something deeper—the realization that this well-known giant of the faith and an ordinary pastor like me share something essential: a love of books, yes, but more importantly, a love for the same Savior.

It may have been the simplest moment of the weekend, but it has become one of my favorite memories from homecoming.

It Will All Work Out in the End

It Will All Work Out in the End

An intriguing story in the Bible is found in Joshua 9, called the Gibeonite Deception. Bob is probably covering this chapter this week in adult Sunday School, so I will try not to steal his thunder, though one verse sticks out: “the men of Israel … did not ask for the counsel of the LORD” (v.14).

It all worked out in the end, since the Gibeonites became “hewers of wood and drawers of water” for the Israelites. Just think, every day, heavy chores that the Israelites themselves would have had to do, they had slaves to do for them. What a blessing! It all worked out in the end. Except for the hidden costs. What costs?

Again, Bob will tell the full story on Sunday, So let me just read between the lines a little, and say that one of the reasons that Israel was to destroy the inhabitants of the Promised Land, including the Gibeonites, was because of the evil influence the idol-worshipping inhabitants would have on Israel which was to worship the one true God, the LORD, and God alone. But instead, they kept that evil influence in their midst. Are we to suppose that the evil influence did not in fact influence? We do not want to harbor cancer in our bodies, nor evil influences in our souls.

A cross-reference to Joshua 9:14 is Numbers 27:21. Someone was needed to lead the people of Israel after Moses, someone upon whom rested the Spirit of God. It would be Joshua, a uniquely suited candidate. If the people would just follow this man, it would all work out in the end. Right? That’s not what Scripture says. Our trust is not to be in the wisdom of men and their best ideas or strongest intuitions. It is to be in the guidance of God. What is the counsel of the Lord?

The text tells us (Numbers 27:11) that even the great leader Joshua is to go to the high priest, in this case, Eliezer, and seek the counsel of the Lord. Eliezer, the high priest, was outfitted with the Urim and Thummim, a breastplate by which God would signal His will. It is mysterious to us, and it is not in use today. We are to follow the dictates of Scripture and the leading of the Spirit, and not just one’s individual leading, but the counsel of spiritual leaders. This is in line with 2Pet. 1:20 “But know this first of all, that no prophecy of Scripture is a matter of one’s own interpretation.”

Are there exigencies in which we are justified in acting without God’s counsel? Are some crises so urgent that we need not ask for direction from above? I suppose that someone, somehow, could come up with a scenario. But such a situation is not common in life, and yet we act as though most every situation is so urgent that we must just do what comes natural, out of reflex, and not from a place of prayer that seeks the counsel of the Lord.

And do we think that it will all work out in the end if we just continue to go our own way and do what seems right in our own eyes? Or should we rather prepare to slow down and ask, along with the disciples of Jesus, “Lord, teach us to pray” (Luke 11:1)?

The End does not Justify the Means

The End does not Justify the Means

Our title is a common phrase that has been used in philosophy and in practical life for years and years. Some agree. Some disagree. I would like to view it from another perspective.

Many people, though not as many as at an earlier time, still believe in something called “moral absolutes.” These are encoded in such things as the Ten Commandments and other scriptural texts (“scriptural” can refer to other religons’ sacred texts). One of the important features of such moral absolutes is that they are actually written down.

But it seems many more people today have embraced moral relativism, in which the standards of morality are decided by the mood of society at the moment. What was forbidden before is allowed now. And it is not only allowed, but it must not be criticized, and further, must be affirmed. That is moral relativism encoded in public policy.

In a morally relativistic world, the means to an end are justified by the desired end. Censoring unfavorable opinions is allowed because of the absolute importance of a view that only came into vogue yesterday. People are not invited to think and debate, but only to agree, or be silent. That is but one example.

But the perspective from which I would like to evaluate the phrase, “the end does not justify the means,” (a phrase that I fully embrace, though I may not always practice it so faithfully), is based on the following verse: “For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may be recompensed for his deeds in the body, according to what he has done, whether good or bad.” (2 Corinthians 5:10 NAS95)

Some day, when we stand before God (and, we will all stand before God), we will be judged “for his deeds in the body, according to what he has done, whether good or bad.” This applies, in different ways, to both believers and unbelievers. For believers, we are saved and forgiven by faith in Christ. But our obedience and disobedience will be noted in relation to our (un)faithfulness. For unbelievers, such sin will be used as confirmation of their unrighteousness, for which they will be condemned, having not received the righteousness available in Christ.

Does anyone really think that they will only be judged for the ends they pursued, and not for the adoption of all kinds of cruel and selfish acts to achieve the “noble” ends? Does not “his deeds in the body” include, and even refer more specifically, to the smaller, daily acts of disobedience(the means), even if we sanctify them in our own minds as excusable? And one more time, if we agree that the highest and best End that supersedes all other ends is “to the glory of God,” then can we really posit that our dirty schemes of lying and deceiving contribute in any way to the high and holy End of glorifying God? I believe that there will be many self-righteous do-gooders at the judgment who will be shocked that God was not so pleased with their moral relativism and abandonment of Biblical and constitutional norms as they were at the time.

No, the ends do not justify the means.

Lashed to the Mast

Lashed to the Mast

I’ve read a lot of books over the years, and remember things from a few of them. One memory that I’ve retained is an image provided by pastor Eugene Peterson who wrote a book called “The Contemplative Pastor.” The illustration that he used was from classical literature, from Homer, and his book, “The Odyssey.”

The main character of The Odyssey is Odysseus, captain of a long-departed ship seeking to make their way home. One of the destructive dangers that they would face on their journey would be the Sirens’ songs, so alluring that they would be tempted to approach these beautiful figures, and would crash on the rocks.

To counteract this temptation, Odysseus filled the ears of his crew with beeswax. He then had himself lashed to the mast so that he would remain true to the mission and not pulled aside by the intoxicating songs of the beautiful maidens.

Peterson likened his ordination as being lashed to the mast. He was to be a Pastor, and one according to the dictates of Scripture. That was his mission. There are many voices that entice pastors to do something else, to do something more, but Scripture gives an outline of what God expects, and he would be lashed to the mast, steadfast in doing those things and those things alone.

My understanding of these priorities for pastoral ministry has two such imperatives at the top of the list: preach the Word, and pastoral care. That is, preach from the pulpit, and minister the Word face to face, with one or two at a time. There are many other things that pastors can or could do. But to me, following Peterson’s advice, they are to be left for others to do. It seems that they should be able to be done by members of the congregation that God has assembled.

Having adopted a corporate-style church government, many have accepted that the pastor is CEO of the organization. He is to cast vision, and assemble a team, usually a church staff, that will carry out that vision. I don’t find it in the Bible. The best youth workers we ever had were Jim and Linda, regular members who opened their hearts and homes to the young people. The best music leader we ever had was Jeremy, who led songs from the heart as he led the congregation in worship. That is the church being the church, as the pastor is allowed to pastor.

Interestingly, Peterson has written a raft of books. Perhaps we could call him a pastor of pastors, though I wonder how this is related to being “lashed to the mast.” It seems a bit like a siren’s song. It seems as though he didn’t completely followed his own advice.

But then, neither have I. I’ve done plenty of things that needed to be done, but would have been better done by someone else. All pastoring is serving, but not all serving is pastoring.