Constant in Prayer (03/30/24)
My notes this time follow along pretty closely with Paul’s message,
so let us begin where he begins, with a notice of prayer. To begin
with, be sure that every time we thank God it is in fact an act of
prayer. Perhaps that may give us a key to how it is we are to pray
without ceasing, as Paul urges elsewhere (1Th 5:17).
We tend to think of our prayers as a bit more of a production, a
carefully cordoned off time with God, whether alone or together. But
prayer is also conversational, as God is our constant companion.
We may also develop an overly keen sense of carefulness in regard to
our conversations with God. We don’t want to be thought of as
appreciating only His gifts and not Himself. But those two go
together, don’t they? It becomes rather an odd, awkward thing to
studiously avoid mention of gifts received. I mean, it’s nice to be
appreciated for oneself, to be sure. And, to know that one is not
seen simply as a sugar daddy of some sort, an easy mark, is assuredly
welcome knowledge. I don’t suppose God is that much different in this
regard. If His children are praying solely with an eye towards, “Give me this, I want that,” then can it
honestly be said that they love Him? Are they not simply viewing Him
like one more pagan deity, to be appeased and wheedled so as to make
life a bit more pleasant?
Yet, to receive from God and insist that those gifts don’t even
register? Act like we didn’t notice? Well, for one thing, it’s not
like we’re fooling Him with this pious acting. Perhaps we seek to
tame ourselves, to discipline our flesh. That’s possible, certainly.
And maybe that’s something we need. But I will maintain we need
balance in that as well. And here is another key to propriety in such
prayer. Notice that the thankfulness Paul expresses is somewhat
outwardly focused. “I thank my God for you.”
One could argue, given other matters covered in this letter, that
Paul’s thankfulness was in response to having received material
support from this church. And to be sure, that support was
appreciated. But as we see later in the letter, material support
wasn’t the point. It was appreciated, but of far greater interest to
Paul was the benefit accruing to them for their generous participation
in the work of the Gospel. What was of greater interest to Paul was
what God was accomplishing. And that also comes across clearly in
this prayerful beginning.
So: Thankfulness. What Paul expresses here is connected with the
dative of God. God is the focus and the recipient of this action.
And the use of the dative has impact on how we are to understand the
word itself in this case. Thus, the thankfulness expressed implies a
favor received. And God being the focus of action here, it is a favor
received from Him. And what is that favor received, that kindness
done Paul by God? “You. Your participation in
the gospel from the very first, continuing even now.”
Well, there’s something to take into our prayers! Could I, I wonder,
look about the church tomorrow and honestly say, “I
thank my God for each and every one of you”? Could I even
claim to have any idea who some of you are? There are many in the
body whom I barely know or recognize at all. And on one level, this
is a good thing, for it means the church is growing. On another
level, it is a personal note of concern, recognizing that I do tend to
partition somewhat, and keep to those few whom I have gotten to know
more. And even there, I may tend to a degree of insular behavior.
But it remains the case that these who share in the gospel with me are
a source of joy to me. I can look about this church and rejoice for
those who love God as I love God. We may not always see eye to eye on
every aspect of worship and godliness. We may not be so compatible as
one might like, personality-wise. But yes, I can thank my God for the
kindness done in setting me amongst such a body of believers, and
granting me a part in the work of His church.
Yet, the chief aspect of this whole passage for me at present is this
note of constancy that rings throughout. I think the NASB does well
in presenting that constancy as regards Paul’s thankfulness. “I
thank God in all my remembrance of you, always
offering joyful prayer, in my every prayer for each
and every one of you.” Look how repeatedly that
point comes up. It’s always. It’s every day. It’s all-inclusive,
and it’s also intensely personal. I bring this up in part because the
NIV, which was my daily version for today, presents this rather
differently. “I thank my God every time I
remember you.” Now, that may be a perfectly fine rendering
of the Greek in a more familiar speech pattern for modern English, but
it loses something of that constancy. After all, “I
thank God every time I remember you,” is not saying all that
much if I never give you a thought. But it’s all, always,
in every prayer for all of you.
That powerful constancy of mindfulness and prayer is something we
ought to long for, strive for.
And that this is Paul’s intent, I think, becomes clear when we
compare to other such greetings as this. As Romans
1:9 comes up as parallel for our passage, that comes readily
to mind. “For God, whom I serve in my spirit in
preaching the gospel of His Son, is witness as to how constantly I
make mention of you in my prayers.” There it is far more
explicit: I constantly speak of you in my prayers. And this was a
church he hadn’t as yet had any direct involvement with! How much
more these churches he had planted, and with whose members he was in
far more constant contact?
I want to suggest something. I am not a fan of the whole positive
thinking business, but there is something powerful in adjusting our
attitudes and perceptions so as to appreciate that which is good. We
will be hitting that more fully towards the end of this letter, with
Paul’s great admonition to focus on what is good and lovely and
praiseworthy and true. How needful such advice when the world is
busily flooding us with news of the awful, the ugly, the false. But
thankfulness: If, instead of being ready to complain at every little
inconvenience, we could instead shift ourselves to a readiness to
appreciate every small kindness, how very different our perspective on
the day!
I will give the simple example of yesterday, as it was so in contrast
with days preceding. For one, there was the joyful sound of peepers
out back as I awoke, which is always a spark of joy to me. And
coming, as it does, amidst a spring that seems slow getting off the
ground (though it is probably quite typical), I acceded to the urge to
open my office window a bit and enjoy the serenade as I went through
my morning studies. Add in the voices of birds awaking, including the
two ducks who have made our back swamp their abode for however brief a
time, and honestly, it just supplies such a joy to the day as carries
forward. For a change of pace, the thought of logging on to work lost
somewhat the sense of dread and overwhelming load that it’s had of
late. Nothing’s changed at work. The load is still there, and the
difficulties still quite present. But there’s a shift in me. There’s
a joy. And that renders the work much lighter.
Noon came before I had time to register the length of hours that had
already passed, and oops! Forgot I need bread, so off to the grocery
store at noon – always a busy time. Lots of traffic to navigate, and
feeling at least a little bit the urgency, as Jan was already
preparing her meal, and now I was holding things up. But in quickly
enough, grab my bread, go to the checkout. Understand that this
grocery store in particular has, for some time now, seemingly been
working under a cloud. None of the employees seem particularly
thrilled to be there, which is understandable, I suppose. But they
had by and large become almost zombie-like, unresponsive, unhelpful,
just trying to get through the day and be done with you. Today, the
girl at the register was downright bubbly. Ask her how she’s doing,
and she just explodes with a litany of positivity. I’m wonderful!
I’m grand. I’m every superlative there is. That’s me! I have to
say, such a cheerful spirit just encouraged the cheerfulness in my
own. It was like a booster shot atop those peepers in the morning,
and helped keep me going through the afternoon.
Now, observing all that, it’s easy to recognize a danger. I could
become one who simply responds to circumstances, whose feelings for
God are nothing more than this response to stimulus. And I know
that’s certainly a risk for me, I suspect for all of us. That’s the
risk we feel when we move to thanking God for what He’s done. We’ve
all read Job, after all. We’ve heard Satan’s
argument there. Meh. He only honors You because You do so much for
him. Stop that, and he’ll curse you to your face (Job
1:9-11). And we don’t want that to be true of us,
certainly. But what happens? We become unthankful formalists. Oh,
God, I love You, but it’s You, not what You do. Yeah. Okay, Jen.
Look. He knows you’ve noticed those things He’s done. He knows that
you’ve enjoyed them. It’s okay to fess up to it. Indeed, it’s
appropriate and right. Thankfulness is His due, not this pious
façade. Be honest. Be real. Love Him for both. You do anyway. You
might as well be open to that truth with yourself. It’s already open
knowledge to Him.
So, yes, my God. Thank You for that lesson of yesterday, and may
I, by Your Spirit and Your strength, carry it forward into this day,
and into days ahead. Help me to stop looking for things to
criticize, and instead, to look upon the work of Your hands with
gladness. Help me to cease from trying to take the measure of my
fellow believers and instead, to rejoice in their fellowship, at
whatever level. And help me to be such as would provide a welcome
fellowship to these, my fellows. Bring me to such a constancy of
thankfulness as I see here in Paul. There, indeed, would be a great
change for the better!
Constant in Participation (03/31/24)
The second matter of constancy that I see is in the matter of
participation, or fellowship. It’s a term that has become familiar
amongst Christians, koinonia. We
generally associate it with fellowship more than anything, with the
sense of shared community that we hope to experience as part of our
church life. This is quite certainly a function of our need as social
creatures. We are created for fellowship, being made in the image of
the Triune God Who has perfect fellowship in Himself. But there is
more to this than just sharing space and experiences. There is this
aspect of real participation. We cannot, for example, feel ourselves
part of the community in which we live if we do not take part in
community events. We may count ourselves citizens of the town, but
really we’re little more than occupants at some address unless we
actively, intentionally take part in the things which make this town
particularly what it is. In a nation of bedroom communities, I fear
the majority of us probably find ourselves lacking in this
department. And that bleeds into our experience of church because,
once more, we come into the church as products of the society in which
we live, and we bear with us many of those habits and behaviors which
define said society.
There is a third sense of the word mentioned; that of a collected
contribution. The idea here appears to be that this contribution has
come from the shared effort of many contributors though it seeks to
address a single need. Thus, certainly, that collection taken up to
help the Jerusalem church as famine threatened was a koinonia,
a contribution from the many. This sense of the word seems
potentially of interest as we consider the passage before us. After
all, it comes up as giving reason for Paul’s thankfulness to God. So,
is this just a first thank you, of sorts, for their contribution sent
to meet his need? It’s possible, I suppose, though it would then
strike my ears as being at least a little at odds with his later
addressing of that matter. There, the emphasis is on his contentment,
and on the idea that his thankfulness is more for the good such giving
would do for them spiritually, than for the provision it represented
for him in his present situation. If I take that meaning of
contribution here, it shifts the focus from “I
thank God for each and every one of you,” to, “I
thank God for this gift sent from each and every one of you.”
And that just doesn’t sound right to me.
However, if I come back a step, to this matter of participation, now
we’re onto something. This is, after all, the basis for their giving,
as well as for having sent Epaphroditus. There was concern for Paul,
yes, but alongside of it was a concern for the matter of the Gospel.
Why had they sent support to Paul in Thessalonica? It wasn’t as if he
was in any particular need there. He could support himself with his
tentmaking. He wasn’t in need of alms. But they sent. They sent to
support the ministry that he was doing, to relieve him of the need to
ply his trade in order that he could focus more fully on the ministry
of the Word. They were as deacons to him in that sense, we might say.
But I find I incline to returning to that most basic sense of the
word, that of fellowship. “I am thankful for your
fellowship in the Gospel from the first day until now.” The
ASV comes close to this with its reading, with verse 5 presented
as, “for your fellowship in the furtherance of the
gospel from the first day until now.” Well, if we look back
to the record of events there as presented in Acts
16, one thing is clear. From the very first preaching, there
by the riverside, Paul had met with a positive response. Lydia had
been, it would seem, an instant convert, and her fellowship and
hospitality to the travelers was equally instant. As brief as his
time there was – and it’s hard to get a read on just how long he was
there – this seems to have been a defining feature of those he met.
They were ready to receive this gospel he bore, and they held to it.
It’s a response that seems to have been prevalent throughout
Macedonia, more so than in other places Paul ministered. It’s
somewhat the defining feature of that work, that here were people who
gladly received the gospel, and then held to it tenaciously, even when
faithfulness to Christ became difficult and costly.
So, let me work back the other way through these shades of meaning.
As I have already observed, if we have real fellowship in our
community, whether we consider the societal aspect, or simply life in
the local church body, it must surely involve participation. Let me
focus on the church side of that equation. I may count myself a
member of this church, but if my membership consists in no more than
coming in on Sunday morning, occupying a pew for an hour or so, and
then departing, is it really membership? If I add to this attendance
at business meetings of the church so as to cast my vote, I don’t
suppose I’ve yet shown myself a member. I’ve merely availed myself of
the chief right granted to members in being part of the decision
making as concerns leaders and budget. I could say the same of those
whose sole participation in the life of the town in which they live
consists in attending town meeting and voting. You likely don’t know
much of anything about those for whom you cast your vote, and you
still don’t know all that much about your town, only about those few
who choose to be politically active. Taken at larger scale, it seems
to me that this is part of the trial facing our nation. We don’t know
our countrymen anymore, and I don’t think we’re all that sure we want
to. We vote, and we would like to think our vote counts. But in
truth, we know little to nothing of those for whom the vote is cast.
It may be slightly less the case when it comes to voting for
president, but even there, we have come to learn that what we know of
them is carefully scripted, more reality television than reality.
But back to this participation in the life of the church: We face a
challenge. On the one hand, fellowship indicates active
participation, and something in us longs for such depth of fellowship,
longs for shared experience, shared life. And as Christianity becomes
less welcome in the marketplace of ideas, it becomes that much more of
a need for us to have this fellowship in the body. Faith does not
thrive in isolation. God will maintain it, for He is faithful. But
this is not the design. This is not the intent. The church is called
a body for a reason, and a large part of that reason is that each part
of the body has need of every other part. We need that support. And
in return, we need to be that support to our fellow believers. And
that, in turn, gives motive to the ideas of contribution. Why do we
support missionaries? After all, they’re not serving our local
community, and they’re not really contributing directly to the
fellowship of this body. They may not even be part of this body, most
likely weren’t. Yet, we send support gladly. Why? Because they are
furthering the work of the Gospel, and we, by participating in their
supply, are able to have some small part in that effort. We may not
be able to go, but we can send. In like fashion, we don’t ask our
pastors to work for free. I might argue that we probably underpay
them significantly, but that’s a different matter. We pay them
because they are doing the work of ministry, and the minister is
worthy of his pay. We would prefer that he has his time free to
pursue the work of ministry than that his time be eaten away by the
needs of making a living at other trades.
I think how that impacts my own pursuits. So much of life is given
over to earning a living, and to other necessities of maintaining life
and property. It’s easy enough to understand the longings of
idealistic youth, that one might be free to simply pursue their
passions and not be troubled with this matter of making money and
taking care of stuff. How much better such a carefree existence would
be! But it’s not reality. It’s not the course God has set for His
children, because it does not in the end produce maturity. And what
does not produce maturity cannot produce beauty, cannot finally result
in good either for oneself or for the community at large. No. We are
called to work. We are called to participate, to contribute, to be
part of the life of the church and of society. It is here that we
discover how it is that our wholly prosaic employments are in fact a
holy vocation; holy because they are appointed to us by our God as the
means by which we are enabled to support ourselves and our families,
and the means by which we are able to contribute to the cause of the
Gospel.
So, then, may we be found faithful. May we, like these
Philippians to whom Paul is writing, be found constant in our
participation in the gospel, and in the work of the gospel. As it
was at the beginning, so let it be with us throughout our remaining
days, however many they may be. May we be found holding fast to the
word once for all delivered to the saints, and may we not hold only
to the word, but to the ground we have gained in godliness as God
has thus far worked in us. Praise be to His name.
Constant in God (04/01/24-04/02/24)
In first reading through this passage in various translations I found
myself wondering exactly what Paul meant about this work in verse
6. Was he addressing the work of sanctification, or did he
have in mind this contribution they had sent? Come across this
definition of koinonia as describing a
collection taken to support another, and it could readily tilt you
toward that latter idea. I see that I am not alone in this. Wuest,
in his translation, appears to pursue a similar thought. He writes, “having come to this settled and firm persuasion
concerning this very thing, namely, that He who began in you a work
which is good [their financial support of Paul] will bring it to a
successful conclusion right up to the day of Christ Jesus.”
Such a reading aims Paul’s thankfulness at that work of ministry which
their support would enable, or perhaps even more personally, to his
solvency while facing the costs of his own imprisonment. Recall that
while he was granted to live in a rented house, rather than a prison
cell, he did so at his own expense. And that in turn provided him
with the liberty to receive visitors and to proclaim the gospel to
those who came, as well as to those guards who had no choice but to
listen. So, sure. Such a meaning is possible, but it feels too
self-centered to me.
It’s going to depend heavily on how we hear verse 5.
Is it in view of their participation in the gospel as having received
saving faith and growing in it, or is it in view of their
participation in the gospel in that they, having believed, lend their
effort and their wealth to the support of seeing that gospel spread?
I incline towards thinking that if in fact the latter is in view, it
is in connection with the former. After all, their active
participation by giving, and most likely by their own efforts in
evangelizing, could not come about except God was indeed at work in
them to bring sanctification from this seed of salvation. That, too,
is a theme we shall see pursued as the letter continues, and I incline
to see it as the predominant message here.
Consider the ERV translation, for example. “I am
sure that the good work God began in you will continue until he
completes it on the day when Jesus Christ comes again.” Let
me just say. No financial contribution, however large, is likely to
persist to such a time. However much you have given, and however
great the impact, those funds will run out. If it built edifices,
those edifices will, in due time, fall to ruin. If it established
churches, sad to say, there is no guarantee those churches will
survive. Again, look for the church in Philippi today. It cannot be
found, for Philippi is no more. Did faith persist? I am sure it did,
even when adhering to faith led to persecutions such as we have never
known, and I would add, hopefully never will. But should it come,
praise God, and count yourself blessed to be found worthy and mature
to the bearing of it. For He will be there with you.
Let me combine a couple more of the more paraphrastic translations.
I begin with the NLT, and then revert to the TLB. “God,
who began the good work within you, will continue his work until his
task within you is finally finished on that day when Jesus Christ
returns.” That, friends, is believable. It is anchored on
the fact that God is doing the work, that God is both faithful and
eternal. God cannot fail. Finances can fail. Buildings can fail.
These bodies can most assuredly fail. But the work of God is in the
soul, and the soul persists even when the flesh has been destroyed.
Now, as we see that God is doing the work, there is a response we may
find in ourselves which can prove counter-productive, if not downright
destructive. We could sum it up in the bumper-sticker slogan, “Let go and let God.” Now, there’s some truth
to that, in that if God is not doing the work, the work shall not be
successfully completed. “Unless the Lord builds
the house, he labors in vain who builds. Unless the Lord guards the
city, the watchman keeps awake in vain” (Ps
127:1). So, too, the work of ministry, whether in personal
growth or in evangelization. If God is not in the work, the work is
all vanity and wind.
So, let’s consider the two actions of this most wonderful verse,
began, and will perfect. The first, it is well worth noting, is
presented in the middle voice, that voice which English lacks. It’s a
curious bit of syntax, in that it so often devolves to an active voice
application. In those cases, we find there actually is no active
voice form of the verb, primarily because the action denoted by the
verb is fundamentally of a middle voice nature. But what is that
nature? Well, there is a sense of acting in regard to oneself in the
nature of middle voice action. I do this to me, or for me. Or, it
may take on a permissive sense, reflecting a more nearly passive voice
activity: I permit that this may be done to or for me. But there is
this reciprocal sense to the voice as well, which I think applies
here. In such a usage, the idea is that there are two subjects
involved in the action. It’s no longer I act upon you, or you act
upon me. It’s we, together perform this action.
As we look at this beginning, it may appear to us in the English of
the translation that God is the clear subject, and you are the object,
which is to say, God does, and you receive. But that would require
the active voice. We have the middle, and that being the case, we
have two choices in how to receive the meaning. Either God, as
subject, is acting in self-interest. I.e. He is doing this good work
in you for His own benefit, or some such, which would be true enough,
I suppose; or He is doing this with you. Let me stress: It is quite
true that where God has chosen to save, He has done so solely from His
own volition. He has acted solely in self-interest, in that regard.
Nothing compels Him thus to act. Nothing forces His hand. Ever. And
that’s well and good. But if I view this as reciprocal action, as God
and, shall we say, soon-to-be believer both working in tandem, then
here is that acceptance of God’s offer in us. We may still pursue our
arguments as to whether this was an act of man’s free will accepting
what God proffers, or whether this was irresistible grace, the Spirit
working upon the soul in such fashion as renders rejection not only
unthinkable but truly impossible. What we cannot argue, though, is an
uninvolved soul, a passive receiving of the inevitable. We did not, ‘let go and let God’, we willingly laid hold of
what God had initiated in us, joined Him in that process, and
received, as ultimate blessing, this marvelous gift of salvation.
There is something of a parallel to conception here, isn’t there?
And that is most fitting, I should think, to what has brought about
rebirth in us. The egg does not just passively receive the sperm. As
we have all learned well enough, there were myriad sperm making
attempt on that egg, and in some fashion, I think we can say that the
egg made choice of which sperm would be granted union. I suppose a
more masculine view might insist that this warrior sperm won through
against defenses too strong for its weak competitors, but I suspect
that misses the reality of the thing. But let me not try and press
this analogy too far. Suffice to say that here, in this first act of
salvation, man’s will plays a role. I would maintain that indeed, the
soul’s willing participation and reception of God’s offered salvation
are, in this case, irresistible, inevitable. The Holy Spirit, after
all, is already present and involved. The heart is already undergoing
change. Truth has won through the defenses of unbelief, and what else
could possibly result? Would you really look upon this good news of
reconciliation with God made possible, knowing to your core that you
are in fact a sinner of long standing, and fully advised of your
status as rightly condemned by the court of heaven, and throw this
pardon aside? I think not.
Okay, let’s go to the other end of this equation. “He
will perfect it.” Now we have shifted into the future
tense. This is an action that lies ahead of us yet, and given the
description of that timing, odds are it will remain ahead of us
however long this physical shell may persist. That act of perfecting
is reserved for ‘the day of Christ Jesus’,
and there’s simply no way to hear that other than as indicating the
time of His return to claim His kingdom, and bring us into heaven once
for all eternally. There, as we take reference to other parts of
Scripture more fully exploring that final day, we shall find our
bodies not simply renewed, but as regenerated as our spirits have
been, which is to say, entirely new and quite different. We may, it
seems, remain recognizable to one another, but the nature of this new
body has little in common with the old. It does not wear out, for
one. It is not bound up in inherited proclivity toward sin for
another. And it is apparently able to take to the air. I don’t know
about you, but as a youngster I had many dreams in which flight, or
something very nearly like flight, was possible, and it was a wonder
my dreaming self thrilled to experience. But it’s something of a
foretaste, isn’t it? This won’t be the stuff of dreams and fancy, but
the stuff of reality in that day. We shall lay aside these mortal,
failing bodies for a new body, fit for eternal use. This may happen
as the component remains of our bodies are revived from wherever they
may have been interred – and I would have to say that there is nothing
about cremation which prevents such a thing, any more than natural
decay and recycling of organic material in the course of existence
would, or it may happen, as Paul writes, in the twinkling of an eye (1Co 15:52). But it will happen. This body
simply cannot handle eternity, cannot handle heaven. However much we
have advanced in our maturation in Christ, the fact remains that this
body is tainted by sin, and as such, could not gain entry into heaven
even if it were capable of survival in that place. It needs
replacing, renewing, even as our souls have been in need of renewing.
The distinction would seem to be that whereas the soul requires this
gradual, gentle work of renewal, the body shall be dispensed with and
replaced outright. At least that’s my read of things.
Back to our perfecting, more rightly, God’s perfecting of us. Yes,
this is presented in what must still feel to us a distant future
time. It may feel closer these days, given the increasing decrepitude
of life, but there’s no guarantee that this is truly the case. Try as
we might to pretend otherwise, God’s timetable for these events
remains His to know, ours to experience. This revolution, to steal
the old sixties line, will not be televised. But here’s the thing.
In spite of being some future event, quite likely so far future as to
lie beyond our physical expiration date, it remains a certainty. It
is an indicative verb, the action rendered certain. Now, typically, a
future event would have to carry some degree of uncertainty. We might
see it in the subjective voice, as a high probability. But when we
have God involved, God as the active performer of the thing, this
thing is certain to come to pass. God, after all, does not fail. Nor
is He a man, that He should repent of His decisions. His word goes
forth, and having gone forth, accomplishes all that was purposed in
that going (Isa 55:11).
Well, beloved, His word has gone forth. It was there in that middle
voice beginning. The future outcome is already certain. That’s no
cause to just get on with life as if nothing had happened. That’s
certainly no permit to return to the vomit of your sins with impunity,
convinced that God will clean you up and bring you home regardless.
If you can still consider such a course, I think we have to wonder
whether indeed you have ever known that beginning. That’s not to say
that we won’t slip up and sin. We will. And with sad, maddening
regularity. But there’s a new trendline in our lives. There’s a new
desire in us, the desire to please God, and the regret and repentance
that come when we see that yet again we have acted contrary to His
good pleasure. We might sum this up, then, with this idea: God is
indeed doing the work of sanctification in us. If He is not, then it
is, quite simply, not being done. We may deem ourselves, ‘a good
man,’ but we are quite wrong. Our definitions of good remain off.
But where He is at work, He is at work alongside our glad
participation. I tend to think of it like this: The work of
sanctification is not possible without God, but God is not inclined to
pursue that work except that we commit ourselves to work alongside
Him.
I could once more think in terms of my father’s example. I’ve spoken
of that example before, how he would have me alongside to help in this
or that. And this or that may have been some project I wanted him to
do for me. That business of those speaker cabinets for my car come to
mind, or for that matter, the obtaining of a car in the first place.
But he wasn’t going to just do it for me, and present me with feat
accomplished. He would have me actively participating, in whatever
small way I could. I think, also of that first car he had repaired
for me, and the wreck I made of it within hours. And there it sat,
behind the local NAPA where my brother worked. And there it would
continue to sit until and unless I proved willing to lend myself to
the work of repairing that damage. Stubborn mule that I was, or
careless youth, I never did. But it was still a lesson learned,
however belatedly. And it’s a lesson we would do well to carry into
our participation in God’s work in us. Get busy with it. See what
He’s doing and see how you can contribute to it, or at the very least,
get out of His way.
But come back with me to this confidence Paul expresses, confidence
that God will indeed finish what He has begun in us. There are times
when we may find ourselves questioning this, whether about ourselves
or another. Having just read of Simon the Magi this morning in Table
Talk, and having discussed his case at men’s group last
week, here is one such case. Did he truly believe, or did he make
false profession? Table Talk seems pretty confident that
his was an example of false conversion, and a comment on those whose
faith is too much in signs and not enough in the Word. That’s
certainly one way to read the event, but I have to confess that I look
at the end of the brief snapshot we have of this event and find at
least the possibility of repentance there. But then, too, I have to
recognize that Peter apparently saw no such possibility.
We may have times when we hit similar doubts about ourselves. There
are times, certainly, where my actions and attitudes leave little
place for seeing Christ in me, and in those moments, I can certainly
wonder if this faith of mine is real, saving faith. But then my
Counselor speaks comfort to my troubled soul, reminding me yet again
that yes, I am His, and He is doing the work. He will do the work, as
He has been doing, and this work, being His, will have its perfect
completion in Him.
Consider how this same confidence displays as Paul writes to the
church in Corinth, that, too a church of his planting, but one with
some serious issues at the time he wrote. What does he say in
greeting them? “God will also confirm you to the
end, blameless in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ” (1Co
1:8). And I can’t but notice that here, too, it would seem
both church and city are long gone. But the promise remains. What is
God doing, then? We will see more in answer to that as we move
forward into this letter, but to bring some application of that back
into this passage, as He causes love and knowledge of Him to abound in
us, He is bringing change in us, “so as to approve
what is excellent, and to be sincere and blameless until the day of
Christ, holding fast the word of life.” I am combining Philippians 1:10 and Philippians
2:16 for that thought. And again, we have that note of
permanence, such permanence as outlasts this body, and these edifices
we build up so as to be remembered in future generations. They are as
nothing on this timescale, mere dots on the line of time. All memory
of us may have long since faded from the thoughts of mankind. All
evidence of our time spent here may be gone, for nothing in this life
is permanent. But still, this work of God in us remains. Still, the
assurance of His word stands. We who have held fast the word of life
will arise in that day to the reality that we are held fast by the
Word of Life, and by His doing, we are now refit for heaven, equipped
for eternity, an eternity together with Him Whom we have come to love,
He Who has loved us with an everlasting love.
Listen! This is not some new development in this ancient faith.
This wasn’t some sudden shift of belief worked up by Jesus and His
followers. We can go right back to David. We can go farther, in all
fairness, but this will do. Hear him, and hear God speaking through
him. “I will cry to God Most High, who
accomplishes all things for me” (Ps
57:2). I have to think we will be seeing this verse again
when we reach chapter 4 of this text. How is it
that Paul knows He can do all things through Christ Jesus? Well,
there it is! He accomplishes all things for me.
In my case, I have observed before that when I give thought to how it
is I am still alive and well and able to praise God at all, it comes
back to that same fundamental truth. How is it that I did not become
a junky, as did so many I knew? It wasn’t me. I was, sadly, quite
ready, willing, and able to take that same course. Why? Who knows.
To fit in, I suppose, or to stand out. Something like that. But
God. This was not His intention for me, and in spite of my
willingness and my attempts to be part of that scene, it didn’t work.
The needle could not find a vein, and I was spared. How is it I did
not become a traffic fatality statistic driving that long stretch of
icy highway at foolish rates of speed? At the time, I put it down to
my stellar abilities and a good car, but honestly? When the
professionals have taken to the side of the road to cower and wait it
out until things improved, it’s nothing of the sort. It wasn’t my
handling that led to my car simply waggling its tail once and getting
back on a straight line after an emergency shift across two lanes of
black ice. Nor was it my situational awareness and quick thinking
that got me around the car that cut me off in depths of snow later
that same long drive. God was good. And this, I have to stress, was
well before I had any thought of acknowledging that fact, or that He
was anything at all, for that matter. I am here because God was doing
it, and I remain here because He still is.
This, as I noted in preparation for this study, is our blessed
assurance. God has begun the work. God is doing the work. God will
continue to do so until He has accomplished all His good purpose for
me. And how can I think such thoughts and not arrive back in Romans?
“For we know that God causes all
things to work together for good to those who love God,
and are called according to His purpose” (Ro 8:28). We know this.
This is settled ground with us. We may question the goodness in
present circumstance. I’m sure Joseph had his questions at times, and
Abraham before him. Yet, like us, they knew this.
And, I should have to say, they know it with even greater certainty
now, as we will also in due course. All things.
To be sure, there are hard providences in the life of the godly. It’s
easy for me, who has lived in relatively sound health, to be a tad
condescending to those who have faced chronic illness, and wonder how
it is that they find themselves so tried as to faith that God is
good. I have known some who dealt with those conditions with a grace
surpassing all reasonable expectation. I have known others who, as it
were, kick against the goad, all but demanding that God had better fix
things. And, in my clearer moments, while I would hope to emulate the
former should such trials come my way, I suspect I would more likely
join the latter. What can I say? I’m soft. But should such trials
come, I will join David in this prayer of his, crying out to God Most
High, who accomplishes all things for me. I shall no doubt be
reminded by the Holy Spirit of that marvelous assurance of Romans
8:28. Because I do know this. I may occasionally lose sight
of it in my pain at present circumstances. I may fail to live in the
recognition that this is all working for good somehow. But I know
it’s the case nonetheless.
And let me make further observation on that verse. I have noted
before how we tend to misremember it, to make it a matter of those who
are serving and working according to His purpose. But that’s not how
it reads. And such a reading puts the weight of compliance back on
us, a weight we are still ill-equipped to bear. No. It is those called
according to His purpose. Not even those who answered the
call, but those called. The impetus is all in Him. If we love God,
as John reminds us, it is because He first loved us. He is ever the
one with the initiative. And He is God Most High. What He would have
done, He will see done. His word does not fail. God does not fail.
As such, this work of sanctification which He has begun in me will not
fail. He will complete it because He is faithful. It’s not that I’m
something special, and therefore He goes out of His way to preserve
me. He has gone out of His way, and that alone
renders me something special. I am special because God has chosen to
account me so, and He has been at work these many years to make me so.
Recognize, then, that this confidence Paul expresses, not only here,
but in all his epistles to the churches, is indeed well-placed
confidence. For his confidence, though it is applied to specific, and
oft-times troubled believers, is not finally in them and their
constancy, but in God and His faithfulness. As Paul looked at his own
situation, jailed and awaiting trial before a truly unstable emperor,
it had clearly become his maturing outlook that however things turned
out for him, it would indeed prove to be for his good. Should this be
the end, and his days in this life about to be terminated, well, it
was God who numbered his days, and God who was calling him home. Well
and good, then. Indeed, the best of all possible outcomes. But
should God decide his work here was not yet done, well and good, as
well. If it serves His purpose, so be it. If it suits His good
pleasure, so it shall be.
How we need to have this same perspective. We are too much caught up
in the constant tragedy and terror of daily events. If things aren’t
awful, we’re being urged to look ahead to the awfulness to come. And
we wonder that suicide is on the rise! Why wouldn’t it be? If all
one has to look forward to in life is this constant battering by
events, if nothing good and lovely and true is in the offing, really,
what’s the point? And this is the drumbeat of modern life. This is
the substance of every newsfeed, and the lion’s share of our every
entertainment. And sad to say, there are plenty who take to
themselves the mantle of ministry to promote this same landscape of
fear. Judgment is coming! Take heed! Look out! Prepare for
awfulness. Well, yes, judgment is coming. We know this. We are
called to live in light of it, but not in dread of it. Something is
very off in the message when that message produces fear rather than
faith. Something is very off in the message when it leads to assured
believers being so caught up with earthly trials, and dangers yet
unseen, that they lose sight of what God has already said.
Indeed, all of this will burn up. Is there some rogue planet X out
there, careening towards us yet somehow managing to pass unnoticed
until it’s too late? Perhaps, though I have to say I am utterly
dubious. Honestly, consider how visible Jupiter and Mars are in the
night sky. It’s not like you can hide a planet, unless it is somehow
made of some light-absorbing substance unknown to mankind, such that
the sun does not reflect off its surface or such atmosphere as it may
have. I mean, yes, such a thing would of course prove catastrophic,
should it come to pass. But here’s the thing. If that’s the plan,
that’s the plan. And if that’s the plan, then God has got you. If
this is how the destruction of the present order is coming to pass,
all that means for the believer is that the new creation has been
ushered in. It’s not a thing to dread, but a thing to anticipate.
And in that anticipation, we rest in this confident assurance: He has
clearly begun this good work in us, else I for one would not be here
in the early hours of the morning each day to study His word to me, to
consider what it speaks to my life each day. I certainly would find
other uses for my time of a Sunday, or lately, for a large chunk of
Saturday spent in preparation. But He is God, and
He is at work, and He will finish
in me that which He has begun. That holds come what may. That holds
whether He comes for me in this lifetime, or manifold centuries from
now.
My part, our part, is to live in the possibility of imminence, not in
the dread of it. We are called to live each day as though it could
well be the day of His return. There is, as we have seen in other
texts, no schedule given for these events, nor shall there be. It is
tempting, honestly, to look to each one of these dire predictions that
comes along as an assurance that there is one more day that can be
written off as not being the one, one more set of developments that
can be dismissed. For, the more stridently these self-proclaimed
prophets pronounce their certainty as to how things are going to fall
out, the less likely it seems to me that their prognostications are
likely to prove accurate. But I suppose were one to start predicting
each day in turn as being the last, he must eventually prove right.
So, let us be no less dissuaded from expectation of His return by
these prophecies of near and certain doom than we are encouraged in
expectation of His return by His instruction to live in daily
expectation. And this we are called to do in joyful anticipation, not
in dread. God is doing the work. He is doing the work in us, and He
is doing the work in Creation. If today happens to be the day He has
chosen to bring that work to completion, praise God! If it is another
day to walk about in this Creation which He made, praise God! If it’s
a beautiful day, and full of ease, praise God! If it’s a miserable
day, and full of challenge and annoyance, praise God!
Here is a thing we need to establish in ourselves, right along with Romans 8:28, and with this passage of Philippians
1:6: Whatever becomes of these earthly bits of our lives
is utterly immaterial, other than that we grow daily in the reverence
and admonition of the Lord. Whatever becomes of these earthly bits of
our lives, our inheritance remains secured in heaven. Whatever
becomes of these bodies, our soul goes on, and should we be laid to
rest, whether due to traumatic injury, or disease, or old age, the
most this means for us is that our soul has gone home to be in the
presence of our loving Lord, no longer facing the trials and
sufferings of life, but now together with Him forever, and joyously
awaiting this day of the fulness of His reign, when new bodies shall
be ours. It’s a time of rest. What is to be dreaded in that?
Beloved, let your soul rest at ease in Christ. This is not to
say we can just slack off and wait for the inevitable. God forbid!
Let us, through His power, live for Him. May I, dear God, live more
fully for You. I know I am as yet too full of my own wants, and You
have been gracious to address those wants. Thank You. But help me
to keep my eyes where they belong, on Your goodness and Your certain
hope. Grant that I might enjoy the gifts of this life without
becoming so attached to them that I lose hold of You. Perish the
thought! And even should my grip slip, yet I will praise You and
give You thanks, for I know that You have firm hold of me still.
Blessed be Your glorious name, and how I look forward to this day
when You have come and I have gone to be with You ever more. Even
so, Lord. Even so.